#to be fair I got pretty wrapped up in the more dramatic parts of that story pretty quickly

[mellifiedprincess]

it is very evident i wrote this in like 20 minutes. this one is pretty suggestive too and not as fluffy as my usual stuff. butttt look at this man, I CANNOT.

also this is as close to smut as i’ll get because ~no~

“I think you’re trying to kill the whole of your fan base, and me along with them.” You see the sly smirk grow on Chris’s unfairly attractive face.

He knew what he was doing. Worst part is, you can’t be mad at the kid because he did it so damn well.

“Now why would I ever wanna put the love of my life in harms way?” He was being serious yet still had an underlying tone of sarcasm.

You roll your eyes and dramatically shove your face into Chris’s pillow. “It’s not fair that people like you exist!” You yell into said pillow, though it’s mostly unintelligible from your muffled voice.

Moments ago you witnessed Chris take an annoyingly hot, without even trying, selfie. A lollipop placed on his tongue as he looked down at the camera. It was sinful how good he looked. And that fucker knew it.

“Baby, you are one of those people.” He argues back while laughing at how dramatic you’re being. He just doesn’t get it. His fans are going to go absolutely batshit crazy over that picture.

Of course you don’t even acknowledge anything he’s saying, too busy thinking about how it’s gonna be even harder for him to fight off screaming girls. “Have you ever considered getting surgery done to make yourself uglier?” The question falls from your lips and Chris just looks at you like you grew a second head. You were being dead serious.

“I think it would be very beneficial.” You state with the same serious tone as before. “For who?” Chris exclaims, his voice raising a few octaves from how confused he is.

“Well for one, every male on this planet. Like you’re kinda being selfish walking around with a face like that.” You sit up and throw your legs over his waist to straddle him, making him look up at you now. “Just think of how insecure they all must be. Knowing you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, and they could never compare.” You sigh and gaze down at his lips, wanting to slap yourself for being so in love with a man.

“I don’t know if my ego can take much more baby. You’re making me feel really good about myself.” You offer a lovesick smile, before leaning down and planting a sweet kiss to his lips. “It’s cute that you think I actually believe you’re worried about your ego.”

He giggles at your callout before he grabs your hands and brings them up to his lips.

Another sigh falls from your lips as you continue to admire your boyfriend’s face. Your eyes dance across his features, trying, and failing, to understand how you got so fucking lucky to be able to be here with him in this lifetime.

“I should start taking more pictures with lollipops if I’m gonna get this kind of attention from you.”

“I don’t know if my sanity could take any more.”

“We both know you can take it.” As your mouth falls open from the innuendo, that same sly smirk from earlier appears back on his face. You feel a blush spread across your cheeks and your hands instinctively reach up to cover them.

“Don’t get all shy on me now baby. You’ve been looking at me like I’m the last meal on earth since I took that picture.” Chris is sitting up now, his hands softly grabbing your wrist to pull your hands away from your face. When you look at him again, he’s staring at your lips, ready to smash his own against them.

The air in the room changes drastically. The once love struck awe you both held in your eyes, replaced with a look of lust.

“You gonna kiss me or just stare Chris?” Your voice comes out light, like you were scared to break out of this trance the two of you seemed to have shifted into.

Chris’s gaze flicks up to your eyes, before trailing back down to your lips.

And finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, his hand wraps lightly around your throat and he envelopes his lips with yours, and you felt like your skin was on fire.

You never thought you would be so fucking grateful for a lollipop in your life.

[mr-payjay]

feel free to complain to me about the ii finale <3 i'm all ears

thank you ellie :)

fair warning for ii neg, especially on the latest episode.

prefacing this with saying: I LOVE INANIMATE INSANITY!!!!!! inanimate insanity is my favourite show in the world and every episode leaves me full of joy and excitement. i adore criticizing it not out of hatred but out of genuine love. i enjoy every single episode i watch.

however, i find that iii19 has been the worst episode so far. it has gotten me the least hyped out of any episode in the series, which is saying a lot because i bounce off the walls at every episode no matter how much i end up criticizing it later. there are. so many problems i have with it. im gonna try and organize them the best i can, though i'll probably(?) edit this post later to insert anything i missed or forgot to say.

starting off positively: oj!!!! personally i am so glad he didn't talk in this episode. i was terrified of the idea of him having a new va. the spin was adorable, i loved his signature thumbs ups, and every time i saw him i squealed with delight. him voting for balloon also made me really happy! despite the grudge he's had against him for so long, he still sticks with him on this part. even after laughing at his death the episode before that

in general all the seasonwunners voted for balloon!! which makes me happy!!! paintbrush, nickel, balloon, and oj have all been there for the very beginning of season 1, three of them being there for every season. i love the inherent connection the contestants from season 1 have with each other. they've been together since inanimate insanity began and they're there for the end of season 3 too. very sweet.

onto more negative stuff! I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE WHAT THEY DID WITH SILVER SPOON AND CANDLEEE they set up something crazy in the last episode and then did NOTHING with it!!! they had silver spoon beat candle unconscious the second she said something that wasn't coddling him like the manchild he is and she STILL voted for him. where even was she for half of the episode?? they just left her lifeless corpse on the ground in iii18 and then she eventually got up in this episode and just. went back to the competition??? dogshit writing

okay now i wanna talk about cabby. I Don't Like Cabby Anymore. so from the very beginning i have loved cabby. she was extremely similar to me in fact! i have really bad memory issues and i tend to keep files on people and on things that i might forget about, as well as just to organize my thoughts and ideas. i loved her confidence, obsession with knowledge, and analytical personality at the start. i was pretty upset when the characters (mostly test tube lmao) started relentlessly bullying her, and i HATE the whole thing in spring on the breakfast where they try to demonize her files. it was kind of annoying when they tried to remedy it really quickly after that because it was clearly because of the backlash, but i was glad they at least tried to fix it. however, over the course of the series, she just felt like she was... becoming sadder? pitiful, honestly? she went from an awesome smart character who loved taking notes on people's behaviour and using that information to get better at the game into some kind of Sad Little Bullied Victim. she doesn't even feel like a character anymore to me, just a mouthpiece for the creators to write dramatic "cathartic" speeches through to prove they're Definitely Not Ableist. also what was the deal with her parents lmao they never brought that up again

aaaand this episode was generally written really badly. super fucking corny for one. they literally had a little dance party at the end like people make jokes about for stereotypical Kids' Shows. but my issue is more with like... the weird super fast character development? and the way they wrapped everything up as quickly as possible? something that bothered me was the tonal whiplash between zuwie voicing springy super hysterically and dramatically and then springy being fully redeemed within like the next 5 minutes and dying for mephone. Why did they even die for mephone. like as a character why would he of all people die for mephone. thats so fucking stupid. the rest of the voice acting felt completely different from springy's as well so it just made the effect worse. everyone's lines were really corny and felt so manufactured, like they would pull characters to mephone's side (losing my mind over all the contestants rooting for mephone like cmon man that guy sucks i just know oj at least would want him dead) with a short Cathartic Speech and everything would be fixed and lovely and peachy keen. its just painful to watch. everything feels really weirdly disjointed and badly put together, the flow is awful, the "danger" doesn't feel like there's any suspense to it at all, and every character gets fully redeemed for no good reason. even walkie talkie chats casually with mephone at the end as if they're good friends after they were HYSTERICALLY INSISTING ON MURDERING HIM? AND MAKING HIM WATCH HIS OWN DEATH?? idk if this will get explained in s2 but we still don't know who walkie talkie is, what their motive is, WHY they got redeemed, etc. we know nothing about them. and even if it will be explained later, i think it's shitty writing that NOTHING was explained in this season.

some extra stuff

- SO FUCKING GLAD THEY DIDN'T BRING HOTEL OJ INTO THIS I WOULD'VE CRIED IF THEY PUT SEASON 3 CHARACTERS INTO HOTEL OJ OR MADE IT ALL SLEEK AND S3 STYLE

- the "you can do this" thing at the end was fucking stupid man that was so corny (btw corny isn't always bad but jesus christ... this episode was just awful with it)

- could not feel any emotion towards the Emotional Parts but laughter and secondhand embarrassment

- HOW DID THEY GET THE FUNDING FOR A LIBRARY? I THOUGHT THE PROBLEM WAS THAT MEPHONE DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING FOR A PRIZE HOW DID HE PAY FOR AN ENTIRE LIBRARY

- speaking of, why isn't oj back at the hotel. doesn't he have to manage it. wasn't paper having a ton of trouble managing it. why are all of them still on that fuckass island. did the library take like 5 minutes to build what the fuck

- ALSO!!! Why did they build a library in the middle of a deserted island

- i liked the short nickloon scene because im a nicklooner

- glad yinyang and candle got to talk

- test tube saying nearly nothing at all the entire episode except for sitting on the ground in a really stupid pose and apologizing to cabby made me laugh

- weirded out by tt and fan not talking to each other at all? not as a ship thing but like they're best friends aren't they

- really fucking annoyed by the fantube family picture at the end i hate fantube family leave that grown ass adult (bot) alone

- glad they didn't canonize any ships i was so scared about silvercandle and fantube

- 4s scene and s1 flashback was cool i love s1 so i got excited

- aaaaand i think my misogyny thread is relevant again. i should update it sometime because ii has only gotten worse about it lmao

- didn't like them making clover stupid for some reason like "is he talking about me?" come on

- oj not talking in these last two episodes is so glaringly unusual because he's never been able to shut his fucking mouth for even a minute

[lonesome-witching]

Writer's Block

After all this time I'm finally posting another ronance ficlet. This one was sort of requested by @ronance4life42 who told me to write about my own writer's block but then for ronance. And so this is the end result. It ended up being good advice so more prompts are coming very soon.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Nancy tapped her pen against the table. Her mind was blank. Her mind was never blank. But now the empty page was taunting her. It had been taunting her for over three hours now. It was torturous. A hell made by her own design. At least she was still dramatic. The writer’s block hadn’t broken her just yet.

But it might if this kept going. Her writing was the one thing she had. Her one talent. She had gotten lucky after college. She got to do what she loved every single day. Only right now it felt more like a curse than a blessing. And she was on the clock. Her deadline was rapidly approaching, and she had nothing.

She heard the door slam shut behind her. “I’ve asked you several times, can you please stop slamming the door? What am I? Your fucking mother?” Nancy bit out.

“Well, hello to you too.” Robin dropped her keys in the bowl next to the door. The sound bothered Nancy. She shouldn’t have lashed out. She knew that. But she felt troubled, annoyed, insecure. And she had trouble biting her tongue around Robin. Once upon a time that had been a good thing. It was the reason she got to kiss Robin in the first place. Now it just kept pushing Robin away as the workload and stress piled up. Their near break up in their senior year of college was still fresh in Nancy’s mind.

“I’m sorry.” Nancy pushed her seat back, slowly walking towards her girlfriend. Her girlfriend, not her enemy. “Hey, Robs. How are you feeling? How was your day?”

“I’m fine. My day was fine. How are you? What’s bothering your pretty, little mind?” Robin wrapped her arms around Nancy’s waist, pulling her closer.

“Little?” Nancy smiled.

“You know what I mean.”

She sighed heavily. “I’ve got writer’s block. Three hours of work and I’ve got nothing. Any tips? What do you do when— Shit, your meeting! How was your meeting with your supervisor?” She couldn’t help but slap Robin’s shoulder softly.

“It was… God, it was awful. I gotta change everything. He hated my entire approach. And I mean yeah, what does he know right? He doesn’t care about the portrayal of women in horror film. But he has a major impact on my grade and whether or not I actually get my PhD, so I gotta do what he says.” Robin’s fingers were tapping Nancy’s skin. A nervous habit Nancy had learned to pick up on.

“How do you deal with that?”

“Well, I come home to my beautiful girlfriend and I give her a kiss,” Robin said with a smile, leaning in to kiss Nancy, “and I realize my research is getting funded by the university and the government and that money really does come in handy.”

“Charmer. How about any tips for dealing with writer’s block?”

“Well, my professor always says that a good cup of tea fixes any great writer’s block. But he’s a jackass. I like walks, they help clear the mind and you can get back to it with fresh eyes. And if that doesn’t work, just write. Even if it doesn’t make sense. You can always scratch parts and re-write bits. But the essence of writing is just putting words on a page, so start there and work your way to something good.”

“How do you do that?” Nancy dropped her head against her girlfriend’s chest.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“No, I don’t have to clear my head. I feel like it’s empty already.”

“Alright, how about we work this together? What you writing about?” Robin untangled herself and walked towards Nancy’s notes.

“It’ll bore you,” Nancy complained.

“It won’t.” Robin had already sat herself down. “Tell me about it. Maybe I can help.”

“Alright, but after this I want to hear everything about the portrayal of women in horror movies and the feedback of your supervisor. It’s only fair.”

“Alright, deal.”

Nancy leaned down and kissed Robin’s forehead. “I love you, you know that?”

“You’ve told me before, you can tell me again though.”

[mamadoc]

After a few days of writer’s block, I had the flood gates open last night and typed out over 8k words. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Which then made the chapter far too long even though it wasn’t done. So I split it into two chapters.

Read on to get a snippet from the one I just posted. The chapter to follow is going to be packed!

————————

At exactly 9:00, Lucy heard a knock at her door. Of course, he would be exactly on time, she thought, smiling as she went to the door. Her smile widened as she saw Tim. He was wearing a Henley again, that seemed to be his preferred look, but today’s was black and long-sleeved. In his hand was a small bouquet of flowers that he extended to her as he said, “Good morning.”

“Aww. Thank you,” she said as she gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. “Come in.” She walked into the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers.

As she was trimming the stems of the flowers under the water and putting them in the vase, Tim came up behind her. First, he rubbed her back for just a few seconds; then, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed himself to her back.

He whispered in her ear, “I had the most amazing dream last night. There was this super hot woman in my house.”

“Oh?” she responded with a smile as she finished arranging the last few flowers in the vase.

“Mmm hmm,” he continued. “We had dinner and danced on my patio and kissed… a lot.” He punctuated that statement with a gentle kiss just below her ear. “She had long, dark, wavy hair,” he said as his twisted a tendril of her hair. “And the most soft, creamy skin,” he said while kissing down her neck. Then he swept her hair to the opposite shoulder and kissed along the back of her neck while he said, “She was so kind and smart and selfless and strong.” Then he kissed her other ear and said, “And she listened to everything I said and looked interested, even though I’m really boring.”

Lucy giggled in response to that and turned her head to face him. She opened her mouth to say something, but Tim silenced her with a gentle, caring kiss on her lips.

“And she had the cutest nose,” he said, booping her nose with his. “And I got lost in her gorgeous, chocolate-brown eyes,” he said looking deep into her eyes and turning her so that they were facing each other. “I was convinced that it must have been a dream because it was just too good to be true…” He paused for a moment for dramatic effect. “Until I got out of the shower and noticed this.” He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side to reveal a small hickey at the base of his neck near his collarbone.

Lucy giggled as she gently touched the little bruise. She looked up at Tim to see if he was really upset at all, but as the first part of the word ‘sorry’ left her mouth he caught her lips with his.

When they separated a moment later, Tim said, squinting his eyes, “What was it you said when you hit my butt yesterday? Turnabout is fair play?” Then he dove back in to kiss the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.

Lucy laughed and then moaned as he found just the right spot. But she pushed him away pretty quickly. “Hmmm. Another time. But the dress I’m wearing tonight definitely does not cover that part of my body, and I don’t trust my cover up to hide that all night. I do not need to meet your friends with a hickey on my neck. Yours doesn’t show at all because your shirt covers it.”

Tim growled his disapproval but acquiesced.

Read more here -

[analogwriting]

The Other Side of Paradise

Chapter 5: Helium

Killer x gn!reader word count: 2.9k first|next

Slowly, your friends began to roll in. You play the part of host, greeting and mingling with everyone. Killer was attached to your hip, not wanting you to wear yourself out - he was still worried about last night's ventures taking a toll on you. You were just fine, however, so you think that was an excuse to stick to your side.

With Kid’s help, you were able to help him relax and he ended up going off to shotgun a beer with some people that arrived or whatever Kid called him to do. You loved him a lot, but sometimes he worried a little too much. You didn't want to impede on his fun just because he was concered about you. 

Besides, you felt fine aside from some stiffness. 

That was really put to the test when you felt someone tackle you from behind. You caught yourself, wincing only slightly, but otherwise fine. You looked back, seeing Dive hanging on you like a wild animal. “HI Y/N!” She shouted in your ear, causing you to flinch a little. You snorted, standing back up with her plastered to you.

“Hey, Dive.”

You heard another laugh and looked up with a grin. “I'm surprised you're still standing with how you went radio silent after your date last night,” Hop mused as she walked up, a sly grin spreading across her face. Your own face felt like it was on fire suddenly.

“What's the big news!” Dive looked at you excitedly. She wasn't one to care about romance or any “boring” things like relationships. You knew that you were going to have to give Hop the rundown. And you'd probably do it whenever Bubblegum arrived because he was going to want to know just as much.

You set her down, shaking your head. “Can't tell you.” 

Hop snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, c'mon. You can tell us. We'll act surprised whenever they announce it.”

“Yeah! Tell us! We can keep a secret!” Dive was bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement as she looked up at you with wild eyes.

You hold up your hands, shaking your head once more. “Not my news to tell.”

“Not fair that you got to know before we did,” Dive mumbled, folding her arms over her chest. 

Though, it was always a given. News couldn't be kept from you if Killer knew. It was only natural that you were told the news since it had to do with him in the first place. It would’ve been the same if roles were reversed anyway. Neither of you could keep anything from each other. Well, at least not too long. He did make you wait, after all.

“Can't even give us a hint?” Hop narrowed her eyes at you. You made the motion of closing a zipper over your mouth, locking it, and throwing away a key. 

“You're so lame!” Dive groaned, rolling her eyes. “What's the point of being best friends if you keep things from us!”

You feigned having your feelings hurt. “Oh, Dive, how you wound me so.” You shook your head, putting your hands on your hips. “And it's not like you guys aren't already going to find out in a couple hours anyway. Dramatic ass.” You rolled your eyes with a grin.

Dive stuck out her tongue at you. “Whatever.” Then she skipped off, shifting her attention to the food that was laid out on the table. 

“You're really not gonna tell us, or at least me?” You looked over at Hop who had her eyes narrowed at you, shaking your head. “I promise it's good”.

“Better be with all the hype and build up.” She snorted. She wrapped her arm around your neck, putting you into some weird side chokehold, and moving on from the discussion. “Now let's go do some shots!”

--

People continued to show up at a steady pace and it wasn't long until your house, backyard, and garage were filled with people. The music was loud, bumping through the house, conversations being carried at full volume, different kinds of party games, all kinds of chaos in general. When you had a friend group as large as yours, it filled any space pretty quickly - especially when they were actually able to all show up.

Honestly, you loved it when your house was like this - filled to the brim with all of your favorite people having a good time. 

Killer had found you a few times to be showered in kisses before disappearing into crowds again. You were just glad he was more relaxed and less worried about you now. You were sure the alcohol helped with that, but you’d take it.

“Hope the two of you aren't having too much fun without me.” A voice came from behind both you and Hop as the two of you stood out back, having a small gossip sesh. A voice that the two of you were very familiar with. 

“Gummy!” Both of you cheered as you turned around. He mirrored the large smile the both of you had plastered on your faces. “Hello, my absolute best friends. Especially the one who went radio silent after their date last night.”

Your face went red again. “Whaaaat?” The two just grinned at you after glancing at each other. Man, not even two seconds into being here and he’s already hounding you for details.

“Well, you can make up for it by telling me what the buzz is all about,” Bubblegum said, moving to make himself a drink. 

“Huh?” You're perhaps a little drunk, not fully grasping what he was asking. 

“What's the news? Why were we all summoned?”

You blinked slowly as you processed his words before taking your head. “No.”

“No?”

Hop shook her head right along with you. “Nope. Wouldn't tell me either.” She sighed, pouting slightly. 

“Must be real big if you won’t even tell us.”

You nodded, saying nothing more on the matter. You were determined to keep their secret safe. You were already fighting for your life trying not to tell Hop and Bubblegum anyway, so the less you spoke about it - the better.

“With news this big and with how you guys are hyping it up, they better have been signed,” he grumbled, sipping his drink. 

You, however, were caught off guard that he guessed right off the bat, choking on your own drink. You're pretty sure it came out of your nose. 

“Oh my god. Was I right?” A big, shiteating grin spread across Bubblegum’s face. “I'm right, aren't I?”

The same smile was appearing on Hop’s face. “Holy shit, why didn't I think of that! It’s totally that isnt it?”

You held your hand up, still trying to recover from choking. You'd done a movie worthy spit take with that level of surprise. The two snorted at you as you tried to gather yourself, coughing and doing another shot to help recover.

“With that response, I'm assuming I'm right,” he said, snorting and shaking his head. “Even if you deny it at this point, I know in my heart of hearts I’m correct now.” You just stared at him with wide eyes not saying anything. 

“Oh my god! He is right!” The two of them cheered and laughed while you sat there pale as a ghost. Oh, you hoped they didn't say anything. Sure, they were good at keeping secrets, obviously, but alcohol could be a cruel mistress in letting things slip out.

“Oh lighten up, y/n!” Bubblegum threw an arm around you. “We're not gonna say anything, your secret's safe with us,” he mused. “Until everyone else knows.” The two of them chuckled at your stunned silence. He was right though, you knew you could trust them. After all, they were your closest friends outside of the ones you grew up with. You knew they wouldn’t tell anyone.

“Before we accidentally blow it, let's change topic. Something I've been wanting to ask, but I've been waiting for Gummy to get here.” Hop, thankfully, switched the topic. You were worried that they'd say something too loud and then everyone would know. With this many people around it was hard to talk about things without being overheard.

“I bet I can guess that one too,” he said. You looked at him quizzically. “Uh?” They were pulling you in a million directions, leaving you stunned and confused like some kind of flashbang.

They both gave you droll expressions and you tried to rack your brain. “What- oh.” They grinned, nodding. “There it is,” Hop said. 

They wanted to know about yesterday. It was only the one thing you talked about since Killer made the plans. You had been over the moon about it.

The three of you settled onto the couch in the garage and you told them how the date went. The smoothie place, the movie, your mischievous actions, the forest, and the fact that it went pretty much until the sun came up. You didn't give them the absolute details, but you mentioned that you're pretty sure you saw god and it was Killer. 

The three of you continued to do what you did best. Gossip. They asked questions, you answered. Then they filled you in on what you missed from being out for the count the last twenty four hours. And with a friend group as large as yours, there was always a lot going on. 

-

Eventually, you hear Kid's voice boom through the house as he called for everyone to make their way to the set up outside. Earlier, the five of you, well, four, considering Killer wouldn't let you help, set up a few tables to make one long table out back for the dinner you had planned. Yes, there was food already out but that was just snacks, this was going to be a feast. 

That's why Killer had been cooking all day, after all. Though, Kid was able to help a little bit with the grilling. 

The two next to you start grinning their knowing grins and you had to smack the both of them to remind them that they're not supposed to know. You just hoped they were able to save face and not reveal anything long enough for the news to be delivered first. It was getting harder the drunker you became. You were also glad that Dive wasn't around when they figured it out because she was the worst at lying which made her terrible at keeping secrets. She always would have a pained look on her face and that's how you knew she was hiding something. It wasn’t exactly her fault, she tried to keep secrets, she just looked like she’d explode if she didn’t tell people. Not for lack of trying.

The three of you head outside and you immediately spot your boyfriend at the table. You grin widely, making your way over to him before plopping yourself down in his lap. “Well, hello to you too,” he mused, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You turn to kiss him, sighing into him. Man, you were going to miss him. 

“Bigs! Knock it off! I'm tryna make an announcement here!” Kid's voice rang through the backyard and made your ears ring. The two of you laughed, pulling apart. 

“Alright, alright. You have the floor, Tungsten.” A sly grin spread across your face. You two weren’t ones to shy away from arguing in front of your friends. Actually, it was a given at this point.

Kid just narrowed his eyes at you at your light teasing. “That's not…” He trailed off, grumbling to himself for a moment before shaking it off. He wasn’t going to let your egging on get in the way of his news. “Anyway.”

His eyes scan the table, looking at everyone for a moment before grinning. “I bet you're wondering why I've gathered all of you here today and why the universe aligned so perfectly to let us ALL enjoy it.”

“Get on with it!” A tong flung across the table, striking Pomp in the head as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Kid straightened himself back out. “Fucking. Don’t interrupt.” He huffed. “As I was saying.” He grinned widely. You knew he wasn't one for speeches. He was just going to say it.

“Finally, after years of hard work - we've been signed!” 

Everyone was in stunned silence for a moment. You could hear the gears turning. Luckily, Bubblegum and Hop were just waiting for everyone to react so they could join in. You thought they’d immediately cheer, but luckily, they could read a room.

Then everyone burst into roars of cheering. There was screaming, howling, whistling. Gig even ripped off his shirt as he cheered, waving it around in the air before throwing it. Boogie and Mosh yelled before smashing their heads together after shotgunning a beer. Just buck wild all around. 

Kid yells, demanding everyone's attention once more. It takes a moment, but it slowly calms down. Also after your cousin throws a few items at a few domes, that helps catch people’s attention. 

“That all being said, we'll have to move to the big city. We'll be moving about 20 hours away.”

Everyone was silent. Realization was settling in. Yeah, they were signed, but they'd also be leaving. Which also meant they'd come to parties less often and overall be not around. Sure, there was the group chat, but they were about to be so busy. 

“When do you leave?” UK asked. 

“Monday.” 

The crowd burst into murmurs and whispers. “Monday? Thats so fast!” Hip said, shaking her head. “Why so soon?”

“Well, there's a lot of papers and such to sign. They just want to get started as soon as possible.”

More whispers. 

“You're still gonna visit, right?”

Kid scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course we are! You guys are our friends - our home. We wouldn't have made it this far without you. As soon as we get rich, we're gonna buy one of those huge mansions and everyone is welcome to live with us!”

The crowd erupted into cheers again. After all, it's pretty much what you did now. The house was much smaller than a mansion, of course. Much, much smaller. But everyone came and went right now anyway. Everyone had their own routines and classes. They didn't live here, but that would truly be the life. 

All of your best friends, your family, in one place. Coming and going as they pleased like always but you'd live together. Now that you could get behind. You found yourself cheering as well. 

The idea of everyone living together in a mansion had also been the dream along with the rockstar dream. If the rockstar dream didn't work out, everyone was gonna pitch in for a large house to live in. Which, with thirty or so people could be pretty easy. Some people might have to room together, but it wasn’t anything that bothered any of you.

But if they ended up getting a mansion everyone could have their own room!

At this point, things grew too chaotic for Kid to rally, not that he really tried. He said his piece, everyone was excited and buzzing about the news. You noticed Gig crying and hugging everyone around him. You couldn't help but smile. 

“Ugh, I'm so glad we don't have to hold it in anymore. I thought I was going to explode.” Bubblegum spoke before thinking then his eyes widened at you. Your own eyes widened. You felt Killer’s arms wrap around you a little tighter. 

“What is this about holding something in? Did you tell them?” His voice was low and in your ear. 

Hop and Bubblegum looked at you, both wide eyed. They saw the look Killer gave over your shoulder and they skittered away quicker than you could blink. Even drunk, he was sharp. And they just signed your death sentence.

You turned around in his lap. “Babe.” He looked up at you through his hair, a dangerous look on his face. “It's not what you think. I didn't tell them.”

“Then what was that about?” His voice was smooth and deep, sending you shivers down your spine. Not in fear, but excitement. You knew exactly what to expect when he got like this.

“Uh, well, earlier we were drinking. And Bubblegum guessed it-”

“And you told them?”

“No! I didn't say anything! But they went with it as truth.” You frowned. 

“Mm, still sounds to me like you admitted it. Looks like I'll just have to-”

“KILLER!” The two of you jumped as Kid’s voice rang through the crowd. “C'mon, we're gonna play a set!”

“We'll pick up this convo later,” he purred before removing you from his lap. Your heart is racing with excitement and anticipation. You knew he wasn't actually mad. He could never be mad at you, but damn when he put on that fake anger attitude, it turned you on so much. 

Hop and Bubblegum rejoined your side. “Are you in trouble?”

You had a dreamy look in your eyes. “Hopefully.” You sighed, leaning into the table, chin in hand as you watched your boyfriend head towards the makeshift stage they set up.

The two of them burst into laughter. “We'll take it!”

With that, the three of you go into full rager mode. 

next

[squeakygeeky]

My Ride Episode 10 Drama vs. Novel

I'll actually start with Nadia. I was kind of disappointed by the way it took a really bad date to make Nadia finally go for Mayom, although it was a pretty funny terrible date. I'm also disappointed how the show needed to make Mayom the Most Specialist Barista Influencer to justify them getting together. Book Mayom does disappear for a bit, leaving Nadia upset, but he was just taking a management training course and a latte art class (because he does want to improve himself to be a better match, but he is a perfectly normal barista). Mayom gives him a latte with a heart (less impressive than a detailed portrait, but still very cute), and their story wraps up with them happily together.

Meanwhile everything with Mork and Tawan in the show just...did not happen at all in the book. But I understand that they needed something exciting to end the series. I hate the cliche of the ex coming back and causing a misunderstanding, and I hate that Tawan was apparently ready to quit his residency over a boy. But I do love that as a mototaxi driver Mork got to have a big dramatic moment on a bike, and a sunset kiss on a mountainside is a romantic cliche I need more of so 10/10 for setting, although I'm not sure we needed the mototaxi guys watching (what were they even doing there for any of this?)

The book has a much simpler and quieter confession scene, with Mork meeting Tawan at the end of a difficult shift in order to bring him more 'hearty' hainanese chicken rice. Tawan had been worrying a little bit about risking losing a friend but at that gesture he goes ahead and confesses to Mork that he likes him, and this is the thing from the end that I wish they'd kept for the show. TAWAN GETS THE CONFESSION. Technically Mork is the one that officially asks Tawan to be his boyfriend, but only after Tawan is forced to repeat himself several times so Mork can get his thoughts together. Also Tawan has to tell Mork to stop calling him Doctor and use his name now that they're boyfriends.

@bengiyo I'm kind of laughing at myself right now because the book doesn't even have a real kiss, when the show has 3. Literally Mork just kisses Tawan's hand and then the hug for a while. But to be fair I'm pretty sure this is all taking place at the entrance to the hospital still and also Mork is telling this story to P'Fueang as a flashback so it's not like he was going to include anything racier.

There's a flash-forward scene in both, but the book's scene is not quite as far ahead in time, it's 2 years. Mork just graduated with his high vocational certificate and is just about to start studying engineering and Tawan is about to start even more training, in cardiology. They celebrate with the mototaxi guys and I really like that Ms. Ai the teacher is there too. There's some joking re: Tawan being the 'wife' clearly related to him being the bottom which its just as well that didn't make it to the show, but maybe this was what made think there had been something vaguely spicy in the novel when there absolutely was not. Anway, Mork asks Tawan to move in with him and Tawan agrees, but only on the condition that Mork meets his father first so we're left with that as a semi-cliffhanger.

The show gives a little more closure, but I kind of prefer seeing Tawan becoming part of the mototaxi tribe. There's a lot in the book about Mork working to better himself, and that's a good thing, but it's nice to see that Tawan also becomes part of Mork's world, it's not all about Mork becoming good enough to be able to date a doctor.

I'm sad to be saying goodbye to Mork and Tawan again. Rewatching the series without the Boss and Toy scenes drastically improved the experience, and this remains one of my favorite BLs, and the only change I'm really mad about is Nadia because otherwise it was a very close adaptation. I do think there were different vibes, with something about the book feeling a little more real. Maybe just because it was in first person able to be introspective, in a way that I don't think you can translate to screen.

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - Fair-weather company

CW: corny behavior, suggestive language, PTSD, aftermath of torture and injury, medical whump, mention of self harm, hand whump

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The taste of cheap liquor still stuck to the roof of their mouths, and with the streetlights already guiding the way, they could stumble freely onto the driveway. Hardly trying to keep her laughter down, Amber unlocked the front gate of the massive family home and let the cold spring breeze follow them.

Her escort was close behind her when she stepped over the doorway, hands still clutching onto her bags. As always, they had swiped a lot more food from her friend's house party than intended, but that turned out to be his favorite part of the night.

"You good?" she slurred while turning around to meet him.

With a gentle push of his foot, Elliot let the door fall back into place: "Yup, I'm just gonna say hello real quick and get going. I got practice tomorrow morning."

This would be a terrible first impression, but better than bluntly running through a house he didn't belong in.

"My parents aren't home tonight," she disclosed, the news echoing through the foyer, "So no rush. The party doesn't have to stop."

Elliot knew that glance well enough, the one he got at family reunions. Or birthdays. Or funerals, for some tasteless reason.

"Oh come on, not when I'm half-shitfaced!" A tired huff was all he could muster as she grabbed him by his hands to lead.

"Please, baby..."

With that, he was dragged through the hall past the coat rack and over to an upright brown piano at the back of the living room. The simple white decorations didn't divert him from noticing how this room, apparently only existing for a couch and TV, was nearly big enough to fit his whole apartment.

"Still a no," he tried to mumble, only to be excitedly interrupted.

"Pleasepleaseplease!" sparkling eyes begged without ever losing contact, "You didn't want to do it at Rhys' place, it's just us now."

Amber hugged his waist tight, holding him close for a minute. Elliot knew what she wanted and also how it would end: with her winning, like she always did.

"Alright, alright," he pressed a quick kiss on top of her head. "But only one!"

Kicking his shoes off at the carpet's edge, Amber made him sit down on a dusty velvet stool to warm up to the old box. Elliot thought about playing some ethereal overture, an hour-long session that would only impress his conductor; or maybe the Faerie's Aire...

Let's hope I still got that ready on call.

Through his tipsy courage, he remembered a gift he prepared weeks ago, before their first big fight-

Why not, actually?!

Slender fingers pressed carefully down on the black and white keys, forcing the first notes of the evening out from the mahogany.

"I know you like this one. I had to secretly google the lyrics first, though," he admitted through a whisper.

A few wayward sounds proved what he had already worried about: that thing hadn't been tuned in forever. What a waste of art in this suburban ivory tower.

"But you know I can't sing for shit, so save your jokes for later. And if Sahra ever gets wind of this, she will not let me live it down," Elliot continued to sigh dramatically, "I mean, should I flop at the next auditions, maybe they can use me as a choir boy instead."

"You would get one of those pretty white robes, so think about it!" Amber too settled down on behind him, arms wrapped in sequin rested around his neck.

"You'll definitely need a safeword when this gets too sappy."

His hands practically danced from left to right now, filling the whole room with bone-deep warmth.

"How about something creative; like: Please, Elli, stop! My ears are bleeding!"

An amused scoff was everything she earned and unable to hide his smirk, Elliot cleared his throat one last time. As the familiar melody began to match the gentle hum in the back of her sweetheart's chest, Amber got more than she bargained for:

"True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree

A willow dancing on air before covering me

Under cotton and calicoes

Over canopy dapple long ago"

Elliot must've had a few more drinks than expected, she wondered, giving how calmly he let the words bubble from his lips; usually she had to press up against the bathroom door to catch a taste of it.

"Must be felled for to fight the cold

I fretted fire, but that was long ago"

With a sudden spark, the pace picked up intensity, fingertips now slamming out the melodies from inside the wooden frame.

"And it's not tonight

Where I'm set alight

And I blink in sight

Of your blinding light"

How lucky could a girl like her be?

"Oh, it's not tonight

Where you hold me tight

Light the fire bright

Oh, let it blaze, alright"

To meet someone like this?

"Oh, but you're good to me

Oh, you're good to me

Oh, but you're good to me, baby"

To wake up with hands around her shoulders, holding her close. Not on her chest, ass or in between her legs. No hard, needy pressure rubbing against her back.

"With each love I cut loose, I was never the same

Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame

I was fixed on your hand of gold

Laying waste to my lovin' long ago"

No, he never used her like this - even when she asked him to.

"So in awe, there I stood as you licked off the grain

Though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame

Long as amber of ember glows

All the would that I'd loved is long ago"

The drone of the strings still reverberated deep inside them, as the last echo died down somewhere between these walls.

Meanwhile, Elliot was grinning like an idiot because of the puns and if not for free video tutorials, he would've missed out on this inviting opportunity. He really overdid it with the shots this time, even made him miss some dazed notes, but he couldn't say no to a shot of Apple Pie.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the glimpse of a teared-up Amber. Her head rested on his shoulder, shaky hands petting his back.

"That terrible? Oh god," he whispered against her hairline with a small chuckle. She dyed it honey-yellow this week, very pretty, like always.

"Shut up." Amber kissed a line down his neck.

He hoped the embrace they were caught in would last forever. It did, for a moment, until they both noticed a shape leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

"Cute," Chase nodded, munching on his midnight snack of dry high-protein cereal, "if that didn't make you wet, I don't know what will!"

Lovely like always.

"You're so fucking gross," Amber hollered with an earring in hand, ready to be thrown. "No wonder that Taylor didn't screw you without getting paid first. Piss off!"

Elliot decided not to get in between the twins when they were... mediating. God knows he never had to bother fighting any sibling off, but all they got was the dirty "Make me, bitch!" Chase made on his way upstairs anyway.

Public Amber was back, it seemed. Not that she wasn't herself when they had company, just... different. Elliot wondered when he would get used to it.

Walking back to him, she let the grained lid lower itself down onto the keys: "Should've eaten him in the womb, honestly."

Besides her irritated huffing, one question remained, though: "Can you stay? I don't want to be alone tonight."

Of course he did, but the only downside threatened to ruin this too.

"Practice?"

Amber melted into the hands that slowly stroked over her forearms: "I wake you up, promise!"

As if that ever worked before.

"Okay then," he blinked towards the full bags that still leaned against the door frame, "just need to get this into the fridge first."

If it meant he would always be like this for her, Amber could wait for him. And if she let herself be herself with him, Elliot could learn to love all her other sides too. Together.

Always.

---

--

-

-

-

"Mr. Ribera?"

"Mhh?"

"Are you still with me? Just this exercise and you're done for today."

"Yeah, sorry..."

The off-white walls of the hospital room had grown homelike during the weeks he spent in and out of feverish delirium. Fahim from OT, more than an angel in his turquoise scrubs, patiently let his pen rest on the clipboard. He had been here every day since the fog inside his head had lifted, but today, Elliot wasn't sure if he liked the company. 

Sitting together at a small table, only a bit of equipment and a glass of water between them, this suddenly seemed too familiar in the worst way possible.

Yes, he needed the exercise, be it a walk around the corridors or a quick game of catch, but after all the training, he knew he was still where he started. And Fahim seemed to finally recognize this too.

Elliot had offered to be on a first-name basis, but even after agreeing to it, the OT was too polite for his own good. Elliot could try to read the annotations that waited to be shared with the doctors and nurses, long upside-down medical babble was all he could make out right now, ready to be filed.

Did he really want to know what it said? 

The sudden beep of monitors around them reminded of the fact that he was still wired up like the Christmas tree in the foyer, just less joyous. The tube of a catheter snaked up to his left collarbone, making Elliot accessible for whatever they wanted to shoot him up with. Liquid relief, if only for a few hours. He didn't press the friendly red button at his bedside often enough, especially not before therapy, to not alienate the outcome, Fahim insisted.

And why not so? He already hit rock bottom.

"Let's go, then," Elliot said, and his voice cracked weakly.

"Okay!" Fahim quickly picked up and let his attention rest on the board between them; nine holes in it, waiting for the unlucky patient to fill them up. 

"Now I’d like you to switch and use your left hand. You can use your other to stabilize the board. Ready?" 

Only one at a time and neatly placed, surely. How thrilling my life is.

"Same order as last time?"

"Exactly. Whenever you're ready." With his thumb steady on the stopwatch, Fahim waited for Elliot's left to start moving. It was still wrapped up in tidy white gauze but left his fingers free to move. His first three ones, that was, the rest stayed tightly screwed together.

At the click of the watch, Elliot had already picked up a peg between his thumb and pointer finger to carefully maneuver upright into the first hole. With this one placed securely down, the second made his whole forearm shake so badly, it nearly slipped out of his grasp in the first few seconds. With the iron grip back, the always present burning decided to let itself surface from under the chemically induced numbness. Quicker than anticipated, the flare shot up from his hand all the way to his neck, meeting where the thin plastic tube had been shoved in.

His face was on fire now too, from pain or humiliation, he couldn't tell. The white-hot prickle gouged itself deeper and deeper into his flesh, dancing around the wires that held the bones in place, making Elliot feel them straining the tight stitches ever so horribly. A pressure that didn't belong inside him.

The wooden peg fell down onto the board, rolling back towards its box.

"Take your time."

He despised Fahim for these calming words and hated himself instantly for it. The poor man was doing his job, wasn't his fault that Elliot was as strong as a bundle of lettuce.

Despite all efforts, he couldn't get a grasp on that little stick again and with another click of the timer, this chance was officially over. 

The therapist gave him a reassuring smile, just as empty as his words: "Great work, I think you can rest for today."

I performed Beethoven, you know?

Enjoying his prescribed rest, he watched Fahim move the pen on the paper, probably documenting every failure of the day. A peek could do non harm, Elliot supposed. He thought of how his music teacher made him play with the sheets turned upside-down, as a fun warm-up. What a cruel blessing this turned out to be.

Thumb opposition (✔, Kapandji 6)

Inferior+superior pincer grasp (✔)

Radial palmar grasp (✔)

Closure of fist (✗)

9HPT: r= trial 1 (16s), trial 2 (14s), l= trial 1 (✗ after 120s). Elliot could make out a big thunderbolt scribbled behind that, probably the first note he understood. Weakness, P unable to complete trial due to physical limitations.

Physical limitations. That sounded so nice; much more harmless than molten iron running down his arm and turning to ants under his fingertips.

"Let's try that again soon," Fahim finally looked back up to collect the arsenal of tools and elastic bands, "until then you need to take your walks and train your hand." His head bopped toward a small foam ball on his bedside table. Elliot had stomped on it a few times, to give it that well-used look the therapist needed to see.

"How long will it take?" he mumbled with a thin smirk on his lips.

"My colleague will be here tomorrow, so-"

"No, sorry. I mean...how long will it take?"

As he leaned back into his chair, Fahim was visibly trying to hold back a sigh, his ink-black beard rustling against the hospital's uniform. He let his view rest on Elliot for what felt like the longest five seconds of his life, warm and patient. Elliot hoped he wasn't a 10 on the annoying-patient-scale, but he just had to know-

"One day at a time."

Yeah, they were definitely on the same page now.

"Thanks for your time," Elliot tried to sound at least a little bit motivated as he walked with him as far as the tubes allowed, "See you on Monday."

--------

The first thing Elliot remembered was screaming at the doctors. How they had gotten him into the hospital was lost to the feverish heat of the first week, just as any questions or treatments he endured. Thank god he kept his stupid mouth shut, even though that didn't stop anyone from asking over and over again.

Elliot hadn't been lucid enough for a good enough excuse, so none ever made it across his lips, he didn't own that cheap lie to anyone. Any injury had to be self-inflicted then, more or less officially because nobody intended to get the police further involved. Too much paperwork, they had whispered.

Now, everybody knew it was his fault; that's what they believed, and he didn't intend to convince anyone of the opposite.

Elliot's mother had told him about how terribly he lost it when they brought him in for the first surgery. Embarrassing, really, but he couldn't think of what he went on about or why he would ever be so aggressive.

They treated him to some extra medicine, making him stay quiet for even longer. He recognized that weirdly trusted feeling after a while: whatever had kept him down during his time in that crack house bathroom was also flowing into him with a press of a button, conveniently placed in reach.

He was behaving himself since, of course, after that aimless fury got out of his system. They gave him a splint and biweekly counseling and OT... as a treat, he supposed.

The man in the bed to his right went home after a day, "Just carpal tunnel," he said with an apologetic smile.

Elliot was alone again, only surrounded by an ocean of flowers with some cards swimming in between:

"Get well soon!"

"All the best! "

"Visit Fleming Beach!" Huh?

In the short time living on his own, he wasn't able to make many friends around town; his parents visited nearly every day, but that only made it harder. Between her shifts, Elliot's futility had practically forced his mom to pack up everything on her own: the ultimate offense to the woman who had nothing but helped him.

They were all safe now, but somehow the relief about dodging his worst fear didn't show itself. It was just pain now, every day for every minute.

Two more weeks in here, according to the latest prognosis, and then straight into the unknown. Ambulant rehabilitation maybe, workplace retraining - something like that.

Alone again, until another blood sample or change of dressing became necessary.

Couldn't it have been something else? Elliot would rather be living with his ankle smashed to pieces... or skull, he didn't use its contents anyway, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't be in that fucking bed with a piss bottle on its side.

How much healing to get his life back?

It would only get harder from here on out, that's for sure; although he didn't have to feel all of this right now, therapy was over. So Elliot pressed the big red button down, letting the rush of numbness take him away, if only for a moment.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24

[bittyfromquotev]

Madie Aizawa: Origin: Part 3

WARNINGS: Not edited, somewhat detailed smut/rape, cussing, sex toy/restraint, pet names, hate sex

Puppeteer sucked in air and exhaled deeply. “Man, that was a lot of talking!” she exclaimed. “But, there shall be more to come.” Endeavor leaned back in his chair, making it squeak. “You mentioned a party that seemed important. Where did it take place?” Puppeteer nodded. “Yeah, yeah, okay. So…I finished my project, summer came and went, the new school year started, blah blah blah.” She cut herself off to clear her throat before continuing. “Then we got to the party, which I chose to go to Japan for. It was so much fun!” A knowing grin spread across her face when the sarcastic comment was made. Every Pro in the room began to grow slightly concerned, and they showed it. Hawks, Mic, Eraser, Endeavor, Jeanist, all of them. “Go on. Keep talking,” one of them said. Puppeteer began stomping her feet, giggling in a manic excitement. “Yes!” she cried. “Haha, yes! I get to expose them! Okay…lemme see…” . . . They left for Japan on October 4, at 1:30 PM. Madie and her parents looked into Japanese time in order to arrive on time, so it would already be the sixth when they arrived. The plane ride was fun; she sat with Bri and Tokoyami on the way, and when they arrived, she was glad to have been fluent in the language. “Pretty sweet country, isn’t it?” Madie’s heart skipped a beat when Johnathan brushed his hand against hers. “Mhm.” “Makes ya wonder why your dad didn’t want to join us.” Madie nodded, making eye contact. “Exactly! He never talks about why he moved!” The boy made a peculiar face in response. “Yeah. Oh, you might wanna get your suitcase, Madie. Looks like we’re leaving.” Crap!

Everyone invited met up at a large, expensive-looking hotel that Madie’s mom booked to put their stuff in their designated rooms and officially start the day. She went up to hers, and found Johnathan organizing his things. He grinned at the sight of her. “Oh, lookit that! We’re sharing a room? This must be a love hotel.” Madie pursed her lips, eyes watering a little. “No…” she blurted, voice wavering. She tried composing herself, and it worked, but she’d been put in a downhill mood. Johnathan cupped her check in his hand, thumb dragging across her lips smoothly. He scolded her with those quiet, sweet words he used on everyone before he released her and left the room, jogging in the direction of the elevators. She followed suit soon after, hoping that nothing went wrong before…before they had to go to bed.

When Madie arrived at the lobby of the hotel, everyone was gathered in a group, ready to head out. Before Selena could say anything about how the day would go, the hotel doors swung open dramatically as two people stepped in. One of the was the one that was missing before. In a foggy flurry, Madie had dashed over and wrapped her arms around the tall boy’s slim waist, burying her face into his chest. His fair arms returned he hug, one hand placed comfortingly on her head. He lifted her head to face him with a look of nothing but happiness and concern etched in his features. With a low voice, he greeted her back. “Hey, I missed you too. What’s the matter?” He looked back up, his icy gaze scanning the hotel. “Who. Hurt you.” His voice was louder now, more firm and threatening. Not to her, but to the others. Madie shook her head, breaking the hug. “Yes, hello Leo. No one’s hurt me,” she assured him. “Yet.” His faint freckles glowed in the light when his face relaxed, transforming from murderous to teasing. “Still as short as always, I see,” he laughed, patting her head. Madie nodded back, playfully annoyed. His mother stood tall, watching the interaction with eyes that analyzed all they gazed upon. She tapped Madie on the shoulder. “Hi there, sweetie!” she chirped. “How’ve things been since we called?” Madie made eye contact with the taller woman, grinning in phony kindness. See? I’m just like you today! “Hi Ms. Takami! It’s been fine. You?” The woman nodded in return, her expression responded ‘me too’ without speaking. Madie pointed to the small group of (mostly) preteens. “My mom’s over there, if y’all wanna talk.” Ms. Takami didn’t hesitate to make a beeline to Selena, leaving Madie and Leo by themselves, standing awkwardly. Madie began to chew on the loose, dead skin around her fingers, flicking her eyes back and forth between Leo and anywhere else in the hotel. “Uh…” she began. “How’s, uh…How’s life been?” “Oh. Life’s been great!” Leo snorted. Yep. Could’ve guessed that from his demeanor. “You?” “Hah! Bro same,” Madie huffed, voice laced with excessive sarcasm. “Anyways, you ready for this fuckin’ party?” Leo grinned, a sparkle in his brown eyes. “Yes. So fucking ready for this fucking party.”

The whole day was spent traveling around the country, seeing sights and eating some good food. Some of the best food Madie’s ever eaten, actually. The group went to stores, parks, bridges, anywhere interesting they could afford and find. Tokoyami was introduced to Leo, and was “officially” made part of their little friend group. A lot of catching up happened, and overall a lot of talking between everyone as well. Nothing really noteworthy happened until right after dinner. The party group sat in a couple benches of a circular area of a large park. Madie’s friends and family carried gifts to her in the form of boxes and bags. Why did they get me so much stuff? She opened her gifts one by one; there were some clothes, fancy bags, makeup, books, and even school supplies. She smiled and accepted all the gifts, hugging the givers. Polite words of thanks and compliments were exchanged for every gift she opened. Almost everything that had happened that day had lifted her spirits from earlier. Then Johnathan and his friends handed her a gift bag.

How did she get here? Wearing some weird, skimpy sex-toy thing, holding onto a pillow with her dear life as Johnathan thrust that cock of his into her? That wasn’t important. The boy gripped her sides, making her wince through her own choking sobs. “You wanna say something, bitch?” He seethed threateningly, stopping for a moment to rest. “What did I do!?” Madie shrieked, spitting the cloth of the pillow she held out of her mouth. “I didn’t…I didn’t say anything to you!” Johnathan picked up his pace, both hands on her shoulders as he lectured her about taking back. About being ‘easily provoked’ and gullible. It wasn’t fair. If she was forced into the whole ordeal, it would be fair if she was at least allowed to speak. But life is never fair, right? Yeah. Keeping her mouth shut and following orders is what she was taught to do, so she should just do that. Just shut up. “Mhm…” the boy behind her was finally wrapping up his little lecture. “Stay quiet and still. Just like that.” Madie’s nails dug into her palms when he yanked and twisted her body to fit his desires. She was twisted around like an action figure until she laid on her back, feet up and knees almost touching her bare chest. Johnathan moved along with her, making sure he was the only thing in her limited field of vision. The only thing. His hands snaked up and down her body in a way most people would call ‘loving’. The rest was mostly a blur, both visually and mentally, save for a few sickly sweet insults and praises. When this happened, which was often, all Madie could do was cry through it. Her eyes stung and fogged up, even more than when she had her glasses off. She tried to suck it up and stay quiet. She had to, didn’t she? Unless, of course, she wanted to end up with more blood and bruises on her body than the act itself could inflict on her skin. Johnathan always ended up getting what he wanted regardless of what transpired before then. It was always the same; it made her cringe. She knew it wasn’t for her, though. He gripped the contraption he called a gift that was locked onto her form, removing it roughly and tossing the thing aside before resting his head in between Madie’s breasts. He murmured something like, “How the fuck are your tits so nice,” loud enough to make her shiver in embarrassment. Shut up, dude. The boy propped himself up, sliding off of Madie and the bed she lay in and proceeded to quickly throw his pajamas on and get in his own bed. “If you wanna shower, do it now. I don’t wanna hear another sound from your mouth until morning.” He strut over, now fully dressed, and planted a tender but hateful kiss on her temple. “Baby Bunny should want to look good for her friends and family on her birthday night, right?” Shut up. “Hurry up.” Yep. They hated each other with a passion.

The next morning, Madie felt sore. More sore than she’d ever felt in her life. She got up, changing out of her sweaty pajamas and into some nicely comfy clothes, slowly putting her glasses on and rushing out of the room. Quietly. Don’t look scared. Leo’s the only one who’d believe you anyways. Downstairs in the lobby, several party members were waiting, including a few parents. They all greeted her, congratulating her on becoming a year older. Her mother and Ms. Takami began to almost smother her with questions about her night. Weird. “Uh, I slept great.” Madie strained to hide her sarcasm as best she could. Again, nothing really noteworthy about the rest of that morning. Until, that is, right after a few attendees left for the day.

~~~~

[liopleurodean]

Season 10, Episode 20: Angel Heart

Isn't that the Novak house?

This must be a flashback

Poor Amelia

Oh no

A dream?

So the mom is alive

What?

That's freaky

She's definitely not

One of her happiest moments

Claire!

Ouch

Interesting

Poor guy

She's looking for mom

Fair point

She's the furthest thing from a girl scout

Claire...

She never gave a last name

Yikes

Dude.

At least he called

Oh, Cas

Heyo!

Yeah...

Dad mode™

Sounds like fun

You were hurt!

Ouch

I'm sure it was

They want to help

Closure

He did it for you, Claire

He didn't help much

Oh boy

Wait a second. Give or take, two years ago she might've been on the trail of Emmanuel.

Cas...

Right

Um. Bye Dean

Escape artist

Yay

She doesn't like you, Cas

Dean.

Fitting

Yikes

Dean can be scary

Dean, you need to chill a little

Oh, Dean does NOT like those

I'm sure

Hah! If it was Roy, I'd laugh

Weird

And that's not concerning at all

This is weird

I don't believe him

Spooky

But you're getting it anyway

Makes sense

He didn't know his mom

AND THIS IS PRE-SEASON TWELVE????

I'm pretty sure I've heard this out of context and I thought it was post-Amara, but he's literally just talking about time travel 😭😭😭

Sam.

Yeah...

That wouldn't stop Sam

I'm sure

Spooky

An angel?

Yikes

Hey, remember when Sam ragged on Dean for credit card scams? Yeah, me too

Yeah...

Okay fair

What was he taking from Amelia? It almost looked like grace

Aww

GRUMPY CAT

I GOT IT AT THE HOT TOPICAL

And Dean was with him 😭 can you imagine Dean Winchester in a Hot Topic

It's cute!

It wasn't Dean

Dean...

Slammed his face into a table, though

Um.

Right

He didn't kill the guy, though

You've probably heard of Eric Clapton, but if you haven't, he's known for Knockin' on Heaven's Door, I Shot the Sheriff, and Layla (as part of Derek and the Dominos). Jimmy Page is the guitarist and founder of Led Zeppelin.

Nice, Dean

Angel blade, definitely

Of course

Weird

Probably

It's not that simple

Claire.

He's a loose cannon

Dean...

Daddy-daughter date!

Ouch

Claire is more antagonistic

I mean. True.

That's true

Cas... that's a loaded question

Sam.

Sam is right on this one, but it's hard

I LOVE THIS SCENE

Caddyshack!

Bill Murray is awesome

Come on, Claire

How can you know if you like it or not if you haven't seen it?

He's so dramatic

Ok, boomer

Happy Gilmore.

Sylvester Stallone face

The mini-golf is rare

I love the side-by-side

That was unfortunate

Also Cas was a jerk back then

Several times over

That's good to know, I guess

Dean?

I have no clue what's happening

Yup!

So like... an archangel?

*insert Michael joke here*

SMART DEAN TRUTHER

What?

Depends on the angel

There's Amelia

Not exactly

Oh boy

Poor girl

Dean, maybe the lore is both. They prey on some and help others

That's fantastic

Wouldn't be the evilest angel out there

Nah

THE GRASSHOPPER

No promises

Thanks, Cas

That angel was doing some messed up stuff

That's so sad

Jimmy's been gone for a long time

Cas...

Speaking of Claire...

Oh, Amelia

Wake up, Sam

Yup

Dean was right!

That's horrifying

Not for the humans

There's the sword

Evidently not

You kind of screwed up there, buddy

Baby's first hunt!

Two years

Cas!

Family reunion!

Protect your mom

Of course

Where did he go?

Sam?

Enough with the jump scares!

Apparently not

That's suspicious

Oh no

I don't think it is

Figures

Oh no...

Cas to the rescue

This is going great

Um. Bad idea

He's mopping the floor with them

Claire!

There's no saving her

Oh, Claire...

She's in her real heaven now

The light is beautiful

Oh, Jimmy...

This is so sad, but so sweet

Wayward sisters!!!

Heck yeah!

I think Jody has it handled

Yeah

Aw, he got her a birthday gift!

HAH

That's sweet

Worth a shot

Awww

Dude. Throw away the wrapping paper

He's not even 40

She didn't know better

I hope so

Oh, Dean...

Absolutely

This is cute

Hugs!

Of course

Somewhere between

[red-riding-wood]

3, 11, 27, & 28 for AO3 wrapped! 🤗

Thank you for the ask, Linds! And my apologies in hindsight for the rambles. I talk way too much when people ask me questions.

3: Heroes. I am never outdoing that. I believe it will forever be my best story, probably including original works, to be honest. Which is funny because I was very self-concious when I initially uploaded that! I felt like it was super cheesy but after encouragement from a couple friends (thank you so much for that one, Linds), I realized I had nothing to be ashamed about.

11: Well, Monster, but that's hardly fair considering it's a 417 page/approx 159k word novel lmao. I actually smashed that one out pretty quickly all things considered, and it sadly shows in some of the rushed writing. The one that took me the longest for what it was had to have been Tag, You're It (probably my least favourite thing I've written). I wrote a fair bit of it, and then it took me weeks I think to get around to finally just picking it up again and finishing it.

27: Oh man, it really depends. I used to always listen to something -- usually something that fits the mood or atmosphere. Something dark? Eerie ambient music or dramatic orchestras. Tragic? Some beautifully heart-wrenching piano. Kinky? Got a whole playlist. Something to just keep my mind a little occupied but not too occupied? Either some instrumental or something with mellow lyrics. Nowadays, though, I've been trying to write in quiet. Works best in the morning.

Oh, I do actually want to say, my best "music moment" in writing was probably Chapter 43 in Monster. Rok Nardin - Circus of Doom was on repeat the entire time and I am obsessed with it. But I won't say anything more because of course that is massive spoiler territory.

28: I mean, I'd have to give it to Heroes, again. But if Monster was better written in some parts it'd be a close contendor. And I think, if I write it right, World on Fire.

[victorluvsalice]

Forgotten Vows Friday: A Side Story Whoops

Me: [going about my business] Oh crap, I should check FanFiction.net and make sure I don't have any PMs to answer. [goes over]

PM: [responding to a response I gave to a review on "Fixing You" back in 2019] Hey, did you ever write this thing?

Me: ??? [scrolls up to my original post -- which mentions that Victor and Alice skipped Queensland in the "visiting Wonderland" chapter because I figured Alice wouldn't want to go back right away. . .

. . .but that I might do a one-shot eventually about Victor meeting the King of Hearts]

Me: ...

Me: Aaaand I entirely forgot about that.

Yeaaaah, this is what happens when you have a lot of story ideas for a particular verse -- stuff gets lost in the shuffle. (Especially when, like I told the PMer, you switch verses to focus on a different story!) So yeah, chalk that up as another story I owe the verse. . .wonder if I could slip it in as a weird little "bonus" epilogue to "In A World Of His Own." It doesn't take place in Victor's Wonderland, obviously, but it does, in a sense, involve him meeting a counterpart. . .

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶One missed call. No new messages.✶

NSFW — angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, 18+ overall for smut

chapter: 9/15 [wc: 4.8k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 9: A Slow Rejection

——January 1, 1986——

[One missed call. One new message.]

“Hey! It’s getting pretty late, so I thought you’d be back by now.. Call me when you get this, so I know you made it okay.”

——January 3, 1986——

[One missed call. One new message.]

“Are you back to working on Fridays? Wayne let me know you made it home safe. Uh.. Miss you and stuff. Call when you can.”

——January 12, 1986——

[Two missed calls. Two new messages.]

“Been missing you, again.. Been so long, I’m starting to forget what your voice sounds like. Ha, I know, I’m being dramatic, but yeah.. It’s really not fair Wayne’s gotten all your calls, while I pick up the ones from bill collectors. I’m sure he’s a real riot, too. Telling the same story about how he tore his thumbnail clean off in that accident at the plant, but need I remind you, I’m the one you’re supposed to be.. Oh, fuck–shit–!”

“Man, sorry about that. You ever manage to burn pasta? Anyway. What was I saying? Right! We should try scheduling calls again, so we stop missing each other. Well, I guess we’d have to talk in the first place, but you know what I mean. Hope to catch you soon, so we can work something out.”

——January 24, 1986——

[Three missed calls. Three new messages.]

“I know you’re out of town for a meet, but Goddamn, I hope you don’t mind me ranting–because–holy shit, I just dropped the biggest plot twist on the club tonight. They totally didn’t see it coming, and shit, I’ve been planning it from the start. I’ve got even more twists later in the campaign, but this one was so good.. Hey, If I fill this whole cassette, I’m sorry, babe, I’m just excited–”

——January 27, 1986——

Every part of you ached. Wincing at the smallest tasks like lacing up your boots, and zipping your winter coat. Lower back pleading with you to stop bending over to pick up your purse. Arms shaking under the strain of textbooks. Eyes burning from lack of sleep. Head spinning. Water. Food. You needed both, had time for neither. Instead, you grabbed your waitress uniform, loaded your other shoulder with your gym bag, and walked the three flights of stairs down to the parking lot.

“God fucking damnit.”

You dragged the door closed from the white abyss, and stomped up three flights of stairs, rage simmering to a boil as you remembered you left the ice scraper and shovel behind.

But as soon as you entered the hallway, you sprinted. You could hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?” you answered, disguising the nauseating hope in your voice under a layer of genuine curiosity at who would be calling at dawn, and a touch of fear in case it was bad news.

It was never bad news when it came to him.

“Hey!” The pure relief in Eddie’s exhale wrapped you in a warm hug, placed a chaste kiss on your chapped cheeks. “I finally caught you.”

Finally. God.. finally you could reconnect with him after he swept you off your feet on New Year’s Eve.

You imbued your gratefulness into your voice, trusting he’d understand the magnitude of comfort he brought you, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school too, Munson?”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he promised with that little laugh of his, surely grinning ear to ear, pacing around his kitchen, probably annoying Wayne. “I just had a feeling I should try calling in the morning, and hey, it worked out. Do you have time to talk?” He knew the answer as soon as he asked, hearing the pause.

“I’m sorry.” Another pause. He didn’t interrupt. “My car’s buried under snow, and I’m running late as is.”

“It snowed there?”

“Mhm..” Certainly did, and if you didn’t get a move on, your coach was going to chew you out. But the temptation to keep sharing this blip in time was too enticing. Pretending things were better. “If you were here, would you shovel the snow for me? Scrape the ice off my windows?”

Eddie’s boyish, smitten murmur tingled across your skin. “Of course I would, baby,” he spoke in a lower range, in a whisper from where his heart resided. “Wouldn’t even have to ask. I’d take care of it.”

You knew he would. He was reliable like that.

“I’d have breakfast made, too,” he said. “Probably something frozen, but! Not to brag or anything, I know the exact amount of time to microwave a burrito so the inside is cooked, but the outside isn’t soggy, nor stale.” His warmth coaxed you into joining him in laughing, but it was repressed. Hollow. Delaying the inevitable. You both knew what was coming.

Aware he was burning the spare minutes you could afford, he asked the question you dreaded answering, “Do you have time to talk later?”

Oh, Eddie. Silencing your apology before it upset him more, you explained, “I have work later. What about Wednesday?”

“I have a date booked with Jeff’s mom. They moved into a new house over the weekend, and need help fixing faulty electrical stuff in their bathrooms. His dad is out of town in Indy. How about Thursday?”

“I’m usually in the gym until 11, and I have an exam to study for the next day.. I’m really busy during the Spring semester, with competing and stuff, on top of school bullshit–exams, papers, projects, whatever–and waitressing.”

“Mm..”

“Yeah..”

“Yeah.”

Ugly silence.

He said, “Well, I’ll let you go. We can work something out some other time.”

“Of course,” you promised. “Some other time.”

——February 8, 1986——

[No missed calls. One old message.]

“Uh.. I had to convince your roommate not to answer the phone, so I could leave this, and uh.. Now I feel super cheesy, but I wanted you to have a message waiting for you when you got back from New York–and–here it is, I guess. Jessica, are you listening to this? Whatever, I wanted to say I missed you, and hope you won all golds. I know you did, because you’re the best, but I wanted to wish you all the luck in the world, regardless if you needed it or not. Think of it like you opened a chest and found a Stone of Good Luck. +1 to all your rolls.. or tumbles, I guess.. Jesus Christ, I swear I’m done being weird. Call me when you’re back. Okay, bye.”

——February 9, 1986——

You called. No answer.

——February 10, 1986——

You listened to the fourth ring on the other end, and hung up. Defeat welcomed you like an old friend. Draped its blanket over your shoulders, squeezed you tighter than the lump in your throat, and reminded you to grab your new grips for the uneven bars on your way out of your dorm. It’s not like you had time to talk, anyway. You just wanted to try.

————

Eddie sprinted from his van. He heard it, he heard it, he heard it. Trailer door was locked. Wayne wasn’t home. God. Fucking. Loose doorknob he’d meant to fix yesterday knocking his keys from his shaky hands. Hehearditheheardit. Scraping his nails on the steps. Couldn’t find the right key. No, not the gold one, the bronze. Fucking hell. The ringing stopped. Maybe he could still–

He got the door open and dialed your number faster than his tunnel vision could discern. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

Ringing, ringing.

It rang. It rang.

It clicked over to voicemail.

——February 12, 1986——

You took matters into your own hands.

——February 15, 1986——

“There’s a letter from your girlfriend waiting for you on your nightstand,” Wayne told him.

Eddie reminded him with a dull glare, “Not my girlfriend.” To which his uncle’s grin grew, watching his nephew fidget under the scrutiny of his curious gaze.

“It was delivered yesterday. What exactly do you call someone who sends you a Valentine’s card?”

Paling, then flushing at the suggestion, Eddie’s tongue stumbled over a half-assed response about the date being a coincidence, and disengaged from the odd twinkle in Wayne’s eye, hurrying down the hall to his room. Closing the door behind him, and locking it just in case.

The density of the card was substantial in his palm. He wanted to take his time, but his eagerness got the better of him. He ripped into the envelope and pulled out the thin letter stuffed with goodies. Beige cardstock. Crinkled along the top.

He meant to read the note first, but when he unfolded it, an abundance of riches slid to the floor, onto his dirty Reeboks. “What the..” With shame, he gathered the money first. It was no secret Wayne was throwing away the bills before Eddie could see the bright red stamps of FINAL NOTICE on them. Any time the lights went out, they would share a look from across the trailer, or a sigh if it was at night, until they flickered on due to a random outage. Things were rarely permanently cut, they made sure of that–with longer shifts at the plant, and Eddie selling weed, amps, acts of service, whatever he didn’t need–but there was always the looming threat. A voice in the back of his head when he needed to buy milk, and it had gone up another 4 cents. Morals; that’s what those voices were. Allusions of rules set by the wealthy. He bought the things he cared about, and stole the rest.

But with what you gave him..

“Damn,” he whispered, counting. Recounting. The weight of the money was comfort stacked in his dirty hands. A warm greeting after a long, cold day of working on his pregnant neighbor’s car for next to nothing. Granting him, and Wayne, the luxury of rest. It was enough to pay what they owed. Maybe more.

“Luckiest man on Earth,” he said, in reference to his sweet girl. “And you sent me..” He picked up the Polaroids and matched them to the paragraphs in the letter. One of you on a podium when you won first place overall; the picture was taken from the sidelines, far away. Another one of you competing on beam. Cute. Nice back shot of you in a leotard, too. Then..

You were at the edge of a pier overlooking the Statue of Liberty. Another girl was beside you, arms hooked around each other’s waist, having the other hand raised in the air as if you were holding the torch. The pose helped open your jean jacket, and beneath that, he saw peeking between the buttons, his Hellfire shirt.

“Sweetest girl.” He shook the picture steadily, like a nod. Gradually doing it more vigorously, until he was outright slapping it across his other fingers. “Goddamn, baby. You make me so proud.” Wearing his Dungeons and Dragons shirt out in public.

You would be a keeper, if you were his.

——February 17, 1986——

He meant to write back.

——February 22, 1986——

[One missed call. One new message.]

“.. I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry I haven’t called. Things got busy over here. Seems like when one thing goes wrong, more piles on. Did finish my book report for class, though, so you can be proud of me for that.. Yeah, miss you. Hope you’re doing okay. I don’t know if you’ve been calling and we’ve both been missing them, but Wayne hasn’t heard from you, either. You’re competing out of town today, aren’t you? Uhm.. Call when you can. And thank you for sending us money. Bye.”

——February 26, 1986——

You meant to call back.

——March 1, 1986——

Nothing really happened to trigger it, he was just sad.

Eddie sat at the kitchen table. Small and cramped with magazines and mail. He picked at a scab on his knuckle, twisted the black ring around his finger. Was tired, hungry. Quiet, and reserved from his usual personality, using all his energy yesterday to entertain Hellfire. Wayne would be back soon, he knew. The grocery store closed in 30 minutes. He just needed to occupy himself until then, but couldn’t find anything to do. New Metallica album in two days. He could listen to his bootlegs and finesse a song. But.. None of it sounded intriguing right now. Instead, his mind filled in the blanks. What were you doing on a Saturday night? Were you in your dorm? Out with friends? Working? Training? On a date–?

No. He stopped himself from fleshing out that last thought.

Tucking himself into the corner, huddling until his shoulders sagged, and drawing a knee to his chest, he grabbed the phone from above his head and dialed.

It didn’t matter if you couldn’t talk for long, he just wanted to hear your voice. Your voice would make things better. Shake him out of this cycle. These unfair consequences of being the one who could leave remnants of his heart for you to listen to at your leisure, but wasn’t afforded the same luxury. Unless you were both available, he didn’t get to hear you speak. Just ringing, ringing, ringing. Suffering ringing.

Wrapping his arm around his leg in a hug, he rested his temple on the stained wallpaper, and rocked his head back and forth, grinding his forehead into the wall. Ringing. Ringing. The same position he took when he was a boy, on the rare–very rare–occasion his mother called on his birthday, or Christmas. Mostly Christmas, that was easier for her to remember. And he sat in this exact arrangement, curled up as small as he can be, wishing the person on the other end of the line loved him.

“Just thinking of you,” he said, after swallowing the thick spit in his mouth foretelling the water in his eyes. “Miss you. Call me when you get this.” He hung up.

——March 5, 1986——

You wanted to call, but last week’s graded essay was burned onto the back of your eyelids. So much red ink.

Under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the library, you squeezed in the last of your allotted time before they closed, and forced your cramped hand to write, making it to your dorm in time to pass out.

[No missed calls. No new messages.]

——March 8, 1986——

He meant to start his letter to you. Really.

——March 10, 1986——

The quarter-sized blister on your palm you attained due to your own negligence around the flat top griddle at work burst on your fourth pull up. Fluid snaked down your forearm, cutting a stark line through the chalk. Coach would be livid if he knew you had a job. No distractions, he said. Not for champions like you.

[No missed calls. No new messages.]

——March 15, 1986——

Wayne took one look at him and sighed. He pulled Eddie’s wobbly desk chair up beside the bed, and sat facing him, lighting a cigarette. The heavy wooden box beside his nephew’s feet told him everything he needed to know.

Eddie held out his hand for Wayne’s lighter and lit the end of a joint.

“So,” his uncle started, drawing his eyes from the decades of memories stacked neatly in the keepsake box taken from the top shelf of the closet, to the Polaroids tacked onto the wall above his bed, to the worn black journals spread around the boy who laid there with his eyes on the ceiling, moping. “What’s gotten to ya, now?”

“Same old,” Eddie answered. Nonchalant, he took a drag on the joint pinched between his thumb and index, and rested his wrist on his forehead. Wayne waited patiently. And as usual, Eddie caved under the silence. “Unless she’s purposefully calling when we’re busy, she’s just.. not calling at all, and I don’t know what pisses me off more.” He shook his head. Long shakes, rolling cheek to cheek on his limp pillows. Eyes drifting closed. “I think I fucked up.”

Wayne leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, preparing himself for a long conversation. “Why do you think that, son?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at the memory. “I promised her we’d be together forever, and she said ‘okay.’ That’s all. ‘Okay.’” He started to mock himself, “I want to be with you forever,” and shifted his pitch higher, “Okay!” Eddie stopped his theatrics, and sank to his mattress. “Jesus.”

“You seemed really happy the next morning when I came home.. Are you sure you’re not reading too much into her reaction? Maybe she was surprised, is all I’m sayin’.” Eddie didn’t give so much of an eyeroll, as it was him sliding his gaze away from Wayne, disinterested in analyzing what he’d been poring over for the past few months in solitude; as the phone calls decreased, and his loneliness worsened. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you said?”

At an impasse, they inhaled their vices at the same time, and tapped them into the ashtray on Eddie’s nightstand in sync.

“Fine,” Eddie heeded, “But it’s not like I remember it verbatim.” Wayne spun his hand in encouragement to try. “It was something along the lines of.. I don’t know, man. She has these amazing opportunities lined up for her, and I told her after I graduate, I’m gonna work odd jobs, so wherever she goes, I can go with her, so we can.. you know, be together. Forever. I explicitly stated ‘forever.’ I’ll follow her forever, so we never have to be alone.”

Wayne spoke with the cigarette between his lips, “Sounds sorta stalker-like.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just givin’ ya a hard time,” he said, after a slight laugh, and a coughing fit. His nephew seemed less amused, rubbing the back of his thumb across his forehead in a self-soothing gesture. “Was there anything else?”

Eddie burned through another fraction of his joint as he recalled that night. “She sucks at taking care of herself, so I said she needed her best friend there to look after her. Meaning me, obviously. Y’know, help keep her car functioning, make sure she gets rest so her injuries heal, cook for her because she doesn’t eat when she’s stressed. Stuff like that. I just want to be there for her, and.. Why’re you looking at me like that?”

Cigarette paused half-way to his mouth, Wayne debated with himself over which style of guidance he should take. For as long as he’d known him, Eddie was stubborn. Liked to figure things out for himself. But this? This was a little much for Wayne to sit back and watch.

“You told her that.. platonically?” he asked, a touch of astoundment at his nephew’s stupidity in his inflection.

“Yes.”

Jesus, kid. Get a clue. “And did it ever occur to you..” he drawled, waving his cigarette, “to tell her how you really felt, so you wouldn’t have to go through this? So you’d have a definite answer, whether she rejected you or not, and we could avoid all this back and forth worryin’?”

Eddie begged him to understand, “You know I can’t just.. say that to her. I mean, I said everything but that and all she could say was ‘okay.’ What if I actually told her? Made some grand confession at midnight, and kissed her? Christ, at least she still sort of talks to me.” He cut his arm across his chest. Quick, hard, and final. “No. No way am I doing that.”

Calming himself down, the joint between his fingers burned to a nub, and he spoke through the haze. “We’re finally friends again. I’m not going to jeopardize what we have by talking about my feelings.”

“Well, you’ve already lost her once, and you’re worried it’s happening again.. So, why not risk it?”

“Because now I know what it feels like for her to be a stranger.”

~~~

More words were exchanged, and many of them circled around the same subject without a resolution, but Wayne made sure to end the night on a positive note before he left for work.

He leaned over and dusted the ash from Eddie’s hair, pushing the fringe out of his face for a sincere, long moment of eye contact. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“I hope she calls. I’m sorry, son.”

——March 16, 1986——

The red lights on your alarm clock blared 2:35AM. You rolled over, adjusted the foam cups of your headphones onto your ears, brought the quilt to your chin, and rewound the tape to play it from the beginning.

“Crashed at Rick’s last night.. Sorry if you called.”

Then, a slurred message an hour later. “M-Mm.. Miss you.. I.. Hm? I.. Damn.” A drink spilled. Music played in the background. Something recognizable in the depths of your subconscious, but too quiet to place. Eddie inhaled deep, held his breath, and resumed with a steady cadence, “Wish you were here.”

——March 19, 1986——

Black. Black. Black. Searing white.

You came to holding onto a rope, and someone’s hand gripping your shoulder, acting as your sole buoy in the sea of your dizzy spell.

“Are you okay? Don’t answer that.” Katherine’s voice cut like a snake’s tongue. She lowered you to the spring floor next to the foam pit, and released a string of infuriated whispers about miracles, and you not falling from higher up. They came muffled against the high-pitched whine in your ears, and the pounding heart beats racing blood to your face.

She had a first aid kit with her. “Hello? Do you not feel that?” You looked at your hands. A cold flash of sweat prickled your skin. Nausea rose. The bleeding wasn’t bad, but it did leave a streaking trail on the last few feet of knotted rope dangling beside you.

At least Coach was in his office while the rest of you did your conditioning, so he didn’t see.

You rubbed your knuckles into your brow bone. “I think those caffeine pills caught up with me,” you muttered. Kat sucked her teeth, and handed you what you needed to patch up your torn calluses.

“I wish you’d stop taking those and give yourself a break. Rest isn’t a punishment.”

You may not have known her long, but she was the first friend you made, and her disappointed voice struck you in a way your Coach’s didn’t. Kat understood. She had a similar upbringing to you, and could relate. She also worked at the diner, and you helped cover for each other when other girls asked why you couldn’t make it to their bonding nights out.

And being vulnerable with her meant she knew intimate details of your life no one else did, and you were beginning to regret it.

Not really. But it sucked when she knew she was right.

“I can’t take a break now,” you mumbled, surveying the rest of the gym to make sure your conversation was private. “I’ve gotta study for next week. Gotta go to work. Gotta make money. Gotta–gotta–” You moved your hands erratically, drying the sharp sting of rubbing alcohol on your palms. “Gotta live up to everyone’s expectations.”

“Why not at least cut your hours at work? I know you don’t need the money that bad right now.”

“No.. But he does.”

The exasperated sigh Kat released grazed your cheek. She placed the first aid kit in her lap, and shifted closer to you. The side of her thigh squished against yours, and you wondered if anyone else on Earth would have stopped breathing at the small sign of affection. If anyone else’s eyes welled with tears at what others took for granted.

Kat’s tone went gentle, “You’re killing yourself over a guy who will never commit. You deserve better than that. Why not try going out with Roger again? You already know he likes you.” She bumped your shoulder and tipped her head at the group of sweaty guys standing under the rings. Most notably the stand-out amongst the men’s team jumping and grasping the apparatus, hoisting himself up for minute-long holds in poses that had your abs burning in empathy.

Roger was nice. His smile was nice. His short, sandy blonde hair was nice. Your date with him at the Italian restaurant in town was nice. He paid for the meal, which was nice. His eyes crinkled when he laughed at your bad jokes in a nice way. He made it a point to walk you to your dorm at night, like a nice man. He spoke to you nicely. He hugged you tight, and long. And when you made your intentions clear, he accepted you didn’t want a kiss, and left like a gentleman, without complaint. Nice. He was nice.

“You didn’t hear the way Eddie said–” the most romantic thing anyone had ever promised you.

“He called you his best friend.” She took over bandaging for you, turning her body to block the others from seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “He doesn’t love you like you want, and you’re starting to worry me. Well.. You’ve been worrying me. You need to take care of yourself, first. Coach might turn a blind eye because you’re still able to compete, but I see the way the stress has been eating away at you.” An opportune moment for your stomach to growl. “And I love you, and I want better for you than some guy who’s not into you, taking advantage of your kindness.”

“Eddie’s not like that. He’s different..” you offered meekly. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“Just.. consider going out with Roger again. Pay attention to the date. How he treats you, what he says. Maybe compare him to Eddie, and see what I mean.”

Done patching you up, Kat tossed the first aid kit to the side while you chalked your hands over the bowl, not caring the white powder clung to the wet smears on your face. She opened her mouth when you grabbed the rope again, fists on her hips not unlike a mother who actually cared for her children.

“You’re going to get hurt,” she said.

You put your weight on the rope. Your open flesh wrung against the fiber, padded by a few layers of athletic tape rapidly losing their adhesive from the blooming blood soaking through. The pain stung deep. Not enough for you to quit. You could persevere. Climb up to the rafters of the gym, and back down again without rest two more times, as Coach instructed. You could remain calm. Focus on the task, finish it, and still read your textbook until the crack of dawn, and go in for a quick morning shift at the diner before your afternoon class. You could do it all. You could. You could do it all if it meant securing a future for you, and for Eddie.

You replied, “Maybe I will.. But it’ll be worth it.”

Kat waited until you were half-way up to question, “Will it?”

——March 21, 1986——

If Eddie answered, you wouldn’t go out with Roger. That was the deal.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered with your head resting against the doorway to the back of the diner. The two line cooks gave you sympathetic looks. “Pick up,” you pleaded with a bite of anger.

You hung up.

Dialed again.

“Come on, Eddie..”

When he didn’t answer, you let Kat embrace you in the walk-in cooler, blotting your tears on her brown uniform shirt, and she listened to you sob about how not only had the phone calls stopped, Eddie had stopped calling you by pet names long before that.

————

Roger was soft. His grin was soft. His hair was soft, brushing across your forehead. The callus on his thumb was smooth, soft as he traced your bottom lip. The back of his fingers were soft as he caressed them over your cheek. His lips were soft, too. Placing them gently on the corner of yours after you turned away at the last second.

His voice was soft. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“I’m sorry..” You struggled to say more. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said, and left. Softly spoken through the rejection, and accepting it like the nice man he was, not coercing you into more.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, long after Roger walked away. You went inside your dorm, and did the thing you always did, pressing the blinking light on your answering machine, noticing the cassette through the plastic window hadn’t moved.

[One missed call. No new messages.]

Oh.

He’d never not left a message before..

——March 22, 1986——

You awoke with a start. “Wha–?” Your bloodshot eyes refused to open under the disturbing amount of daylight streaming through your window. What was that noise? Was the phone ringing? 

The phone was most definitely ringing.

Answering under the grog of not knowing when you went to sleep, nor what day it was, you said the first thing that came to mind, “Eddie?” You winced, and jerked the phone away, taking a moment to place the loud, exuberant–panicked–voice on the other side. “..Dustin?”

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins @barbielibra 

[jerry-hornes-foot]

Love your writing! I was wondering, if you haven’t already, if you would write something with a line like “You don’t get to cum until i say so” with dom reader and sub Steve.

Omg thank you so much you're so sweet! 🥰💖 Literally going apeshit for this idea too!! I could write Steve getting edged till the cows come home I swear to God it's so hot 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so yeah went a bit wild on this one, thank you again!

1070 words

18+ only

Smut

Steve Harrington x Gender Neutral Reader

Tags: dom/sub; dom!reader; sub!steve; brat!steve; edging; orgasm denial; choking; scratching; rough sex; collaring; handjobs; 69ing; penetrative sex; ownership; multiple orgasm; excessive cum; offensive language

Your hand is pumping rhythmically over Steve's dick, making him cry out through gritted teeth. He's been brattier than usual tonight, living up to the engraved silver heart that dangles from the collar around his neck, which simply reads "BRAT". He's been acting up since you got him into bed, and it seems he thinks he's gotten away with it. You feel his cock start to twitch and swell in your hand and take the opportunity to remind him who's in charge here. With a swift, dramatic movement you lift your hand away from his cock and wave at him. Steve stares up at you, mouth open in horror as he's cut off just at the edge of an orgasm.

"That's not fair!" He protests.

"What did I tell you about talking back, Harrington? You were warned there would be consequences."

"I know but... that's... you can't just... its not-"

You cut him off with a hand around his throat, gently rubbing the soft pleather collar under your fingertips as you stare down at him.

"I think you might have forgotten what this means, Harrington." You hiss. "You're mine, understand? All mine. You don't get to cum until I say so."

Steve glares up at you, his bottom lip slides forward into a pout.

"Oh don't be such a crybaby." You release your grip on his throat and lie back on the bed, parting your legs and staring down at him. "Now, show me what that pretty little mouth can do and I might be inclined to feel a bit more generous."

Steve's knees straddle your head as his mouth works over you. He didn't take very much convincing once he realised he'd have his dick in your mouth too. You're teasing him intentionally now, running your tongue up and down the underside of his cock as you suck it and making him tremble. You know he's already close again, but you have absutely no intention of letting him finish. Using all the strength you can muster you manage to pull up a little, enough to draw Steve's full length length into your mouth, and firmly trace a few circles into the base of his cock with the tip of your tongue. It works exactly as intended and you feel him twitching against you once more. The rhythm of his tongue on your skin gets sloppy as his knees start to shake. Without hesitation, you pull your mouth away and let your head flop back down onto the bed. Steve let's out a loud whine,

"Come on!!"

Steve lowers his hips in an attempt to get your lips wrapped around him again, but only succeeds in smearing your lips with precum. In one quick movement you push your hand up against his ribcage and flip him over onto his back. Scrambling up beside him you throw one leg over his chest and put your weight down, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head.

"And just what makes you think you can talk to me like that, Harrington?"

Steve doesn't answer this time. He can't take much more of this and he knows you're more than capable of keeping this up all night.

"Didn't think so."

Your fingers grip the sheets as Steve pumps in and out of you. You're on all fours now, lulling Steve into a false sense of security by letting him fuck you. Steve moans loudly as you tense around his cock. As his hips pound against you, you start to feel yourself getting close too, but Steve still needs a little more punishment. His fingers dig into your hips as he starts to peak once more. Leaning backwards you push Steve back onto his knees, sitting on his lap with him still inside you and forcing him to stop what he's doing. You can hear him whimpering behind you, but this time he's smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"What's the matter, baby?" You tease, gently rocking your hips. "Thought I'd let you win that easily?"

You buck your hips once more, a little rougher this time, and Steve's hands grip at your arms. He lets out a few ragged breaths in your ear as his body tenses and convulses. His fingers remain tightly grasping your skin for a few more seconds before his body relaxes. To your great surprise, you don't feel him cum. Climbing off his lap you turn to face him and, from the looks of it, he's just as surprised as you are.

"Interesting," You say with a slight smirk. "Think you can manage one more?"

Steve's hips are jackhammering against yours. Over your shoulder you can hear his collar jingling as his body moves sporadically. You can feel your skin flushing white hot, whole body tingling as Steve's cock works in and out of you.

"Such a good boy." You purr. "I'm so close, baby, make me cum and I'll let you too."

The words barely escape your mouth before you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs as you lunge forward with the force of a sudden orgasm ripping through you. The sounds of your lust filled screams spur Steve on, slamming his hips against yours in a fast, messy rhythm. Within minutes you feel Steve start to convulse again. He scratches down your thighs as his cock twitches once more. This time a fountain of cum sprays into you, wave after wave filling you up as Steve's body tenses against you. When he finally stops he barely manages to pull out of you before he flops down on the bed, fucked out and gasping for air.

There's silence for a long time. You stroke Steve's hair gently before you get up to get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom. When you come back Steve hasn't moved. You perch yourself on the edge of the bed, reaching around to the back of his neck you carefully undo his collar and take it off for him.

"You okay, sweetheart?" You ask, softly.

Steve tears his eyes away from the ceiling and looks up at you. He laughs suddenly and a wide smile spreads over his face.

"Holy shit."

"That good?" You say with a laugh.

"That was fucking incredible." He says, still a little out of breath. His face melts into a smirk, that mischievous sparkle back in his eye already. "Bet you couldn't do it again."

[chiruba]

JJK BOYS' REACTING TO S/O IN A BUNNY OUTFIT !

req. hiii bestie !! i can smell potential in this account, so i'm here for a request ! jjk boys' reaction to their s/o wearing a bunny girl/boy outfit (they lost a bet) ?? maybe with... megumi, inumaki and gojo ?? thank you and i give you all my love and support for your work!!!❤️❤️️

an. HII BESTIE!! i loved this req omg and thank u for supporting me!! hope i did this req justice <3

ft. gojo, fushiguro, inumaki x fem!reader

wc. 1.5k

genre. fluff

tw. a lil suggestive but like 99% sfw

► MASTERLIST ► TAGLIST ►

GOJO SATORU ►

— this mf would be so cocky and teasing about it

— definitely the type to whistle and wiggle his eyebrows

— he's probably the one that made the bet with you

— and of course he made it knowing he'd win

"satoru!" you whine from behind the closed bathroom door, thoroughly embarrassed. "are you kidding? i'm not wearing this!" well, to be fair, you were already wearing it, but coming out of your sacred space the bathroom in it? absolutely not.

"come on!" you heard him say, his tone clearly teasing and excited. "you lost the bet, after all!"

"and you cheated to win!"

"baby-"

"no."

gojo let out a dramatic sigh, and you could practically imagine him pressing an exaggerated hand to his heart. "fine!" he said, letting out another sigh, "i guess our bets mean nothing to you."

"it's a stupid bet, satoru-"

"i understand, don't worry." you groaned, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend's usual childish antics. you could hear him shuffling from the other side of the door, "i'll just go to bed." you let a sigh, glancing to the large mirror to your right, your reflection staring back at you. you felt your face get hot at the thought of showing this to gojo. i mean, you could use it to try and get back at your boyfriend for all the times he'd teased you, and maybe even fluster him a bit? impossible, but a girl can dream.

"...fine." you grumble so quietly you're unsure if he even heard it - until you hear the giddy squeal come out of your boyfriend's mouth from the other side of the door, catching you so off guard that you can't help but let out a snort. before you even have a chance to do so yourself, gojo swings open the door and catches you as you stumble out.

he grins at you cheekily, one eyebrow raised and a low whistle sounding from his lips. "you were already wearing it?" he asks, and before you can respond a bright light flashes in your eye, and you realise he's taking pictures.

"satoru!" you go to cover your head, immediately regretting your decision. "i'm changing back right now!" you exclaim and try to rush back into the bathroom, only to be stopped by him pulling you back gently, his chest colliding with your body.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ►

— BLUSHY BABY!

— he'd be so embarrassed even looking at you LOL

— doesn't mean he won't look though

— would probably be like "what are you doing?" all grumbly and annoyed

— but his eyes stay trained on you and the outfit

you didn't think last week that your saturday night would be spent waiting on your boyfriend's bed, dressed head to toe in a bunny girl outfit while you waited for him to get done showering. it originally began when nobara showed you a funny tiktok of someone else pranking their significant other while they were dressed in a bunny outfit, and you'd both joked about doing it to your respective significant others. you had teased nobara, doubting that maki would be flustered even by such an outfit, which then led her to tease you about how fushiguro wouldn't even bat an eye at it. and, well, here you are.

you want to blame nobara for this entire fiasco, but you can't help the scratch of curiosity you yourself have about your antisocial boyfriend's reaction. if you're being entirely honest, the thought of making him flustered makes you a bit giddy. you decide to wrap yourself in his bed covers, seeing that fushiguro's designated showering time is ending soon, and then duck your head under the covers like a child hiding from a monster. the door lock clicks, and you hear the familiar sound of the sliding door.

"what are you doing?" fushiguro asks, closing the door behind him as he makes his way over to the mound on his bed. you giggle and hug the covers closer.

"take a guess," you tease, and you were sure if you could see him he'd be rolling his eyes.

"i don't know," he responded bluntly, "are you cold? i'll warm you up." you could hear the slight grumble in his voice at the last part, clearly still getting used to voicing his affections. it made your heart flutter a little, and you decided to stop teasing, mostly because it was the first time today you'd be able to see your boyfriend's face. you quickly pulled the covers back, sitting up on his bed as you stared up at fushiguro with an innocent grin.

"wha?!-" fushiguro spluttered, pink immediately beginning to stain his cheeks. his mouth hang open as he stared at you, eyes rapidly glancing around your outfit. "what are you doing?" he asked, gulping obviously after his sentence.

"what do ya think?" you teasingly asked, deciding to stand up and give a quick spin around, only flustering fushiguro further. "maybe this should be my halloween outfit? oh, we could even match! you could be a magician-" fushiguro let out a noise similar to a growl, and the next thing you knew, you were back in his bed, covers one again wrapped around your body like a cloak.

"no." he said plainly, and you had to hold back your laughter.

"no? no what, love?" he scrunched up his face at the nickname, but you could tell he liked it just by the simple fact that he'd never told you to stop. your teasing smile dropped when he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting on your ear as he whispered,

"i wanna be the only one to see you that way."

INUMAKI TOGE ►

— he got so flustered at first omg

— and said the one word that came to his mind - "wow."

— inumaki has such great control when it comes to his speech, he already knew it would be a safe word

— what he doesn't have great self-control over is, honestly, his love for you

— inumaki's just so amazed at how you're his s/o

— after he gets over his initial flustered reaction, he tackles you in affection <3

you were sure that you've never been more embarrassed in your life than now. nobara had suggested the grand idea of playing 'truth or dare' for girls' night, and sadly, your turn had ended up in maki's hands. you thought that maki couldn't come up with anything too bad, especially not this late at night, and so you went with the dare.

...and now here you are, dressed in a bunny girl outfit, standing in the middle of your boyfriend, inumaki toge's, room. the outfit was bought last halloween as a complete joke between the three of you, and you had completely forgotten about it afterwards, keeping it in the deepest part of your closet. how had maki even come up with that on the spot? damn her brains. your phone pinged, vibrating on inumaki's desk where you had put it, and you glanced over to see nobara's text;

'he's coming!!'

the simple message made your heart pound, your head frantically snapping back to look at the door as you waited for your boyfriend to come through. you held your breath when you heard a key being inserted into the door, and a small noise of surprise when inumaki realised the door wasn't locked. he quickly understood that you were most likely in his room.

"kombu-" inumaki froze, quite literally froze. it reminded you of the times he'd unzipped his collar and whispered the words "don't move,", his enemies bodies going rigid just as his just did.

you began to speak, and then realised, what the fuck were you meant to say in this situation? you'd been so focused on when inumaki would come through the door, you hadn't even thought about what to say when he did. you quite literally felt the way your heart fluttered when you heard inumaki let out a quiet breath, and you heard him whisper,

"wow."

it was already rare to hear your boyfriend's soft voice, even when he was simply speaking in onigiri ingredients, and you were shocked that you had caused this much of a reaction from him.

inumaki finally took back control of his body as he dropped the plastic white bag full of late-night snacks he was out getting, quickly shutting the door behind him and rushing over to you. his arms snaked around your waist, and you stumbled when he pulled you from the middle of his room to his bed.

"toge!" you yelled, arms wrapping around him automatically. you giggled when he began bombarding you in kisses, kissing you on the tip of your nose, the corners of your mouth and continually along your jaw, each a sweet peck full of affection that was more than enough to convey inumaki's feelings. "toge," you whined, now lowering your voice, "maki and nobara are probably right outside the door!" inumaki continues to hold you close while he reaches into his shorts pockets, pulling out his phone and typing a quick message, still giving you sweet pecks as you read his text.

'too bad. ur mine now <3'

ill give u a kiss goodnight if u reblog <3 

©  2021 sinrinyoku — please do not repost, translate, modify or plagiarize my work! i will beat the shit out of u (maybe)

[winterhawkkisses]

Bucky and Clint and a corn maze for the autumn prompt please?

Loving all your stories and shares!

Bucky Barnes was brought up in Brooklyn, and as such had been woefully unprepared for the concept of corn mazes as some kinda competitive sport.

"Swear to God," Clint muttered, shoving his feet into unlaced boots at some ridiculous time in the morning, "if the Butchers win again this year I am going to shove my foot so far up that judge's ass -"

Bucky must've made a sound, or raised an eyebrow, or given off some kinda aura that questioned Clint in this, 'cos Clint whirled on him and pinned him with a crazy-eyed stare.

"Five years," he said, low and fervent. "Five goddamn years of the same Iowa Hawkeyes logo, stalk for goddamn stalk. I have done Steve's shield. I have done a damn circus. I have done the cataclysmic destruction of the Death Star that I had to finish with a scythe -"

"I don't understand that reference," Bucky said, deadpan, and Clint pointed a shaking finger at his chest, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again and threw his hands in the air, slamming the screen door behind him.

Bucky couldn't help sniggering into his coffee.

It wasn't always so dramatic. Sure, the farm in general, where the pace of the days was generally pretty slow, peace rising up from the ground like the morning mist, but also the run-up to fall and the county fair. Most of it was quieter: Clint groaning happily as Bucky tried out another pie recipe on him, determined to perfect it this year; the daily measurement of a beast of a pumpkin, and Clint's cracked voice singing rock ballads to it every night before bed.

Somehow he'd got it in his head, though, that everything was riding on his corn maze this year. Somehow everything seemed to be hinging on getting it just right, and Clint had strung up a sheet over the back bedroom window so Bucky couldn't jinx it by seeing it too soon.

"Like seeing a bride before the wedding?" Bucky asked, unable to keep the laugh outta his voice, and Clint had twitched and headed hurriedly out to sing Sweet Child Of Mine.

"Hey," Bucky murmured from the porch swing one evening, catching Clint by the belt loops as he paced along the porch and pulling him closer, between his legs. "Hey, Clint, it's gonna be fine. You've got this."

Clint ran his hands through his hair, looking down at Bucky with a weird sort of vulnerability in his eyes.

"You think?"

"I know it," Bucky said, pulling him in closer still, wrapping his arms around Clint's lean hips and resting his cheek against a plaid shirt that still carried the warmth of the late summer sun. "You can do anything you set your mind to."

Clint's hand came up to cup the back of Bucky's head, his callused thumb catching a little as it swept across his hair.

"You know I love you, right?" Clint said, and Bucky couldn't help but smile with it, the way happiness filled him up like there'd always been a space ready for it.

"Sure," he said. "I know."

*

It was the week before the fair when Clint finally seemed to settle. Not completely relaxed, maybe; more like the pause at the top of the rollercoaster, where all the potential's somehow resolved itself into a final moment of calm.

He cornered Bucky in the kitchen, taking the coffee mug out of his metal hand and weaving their fingers together instead.

"It's ready," he said, on a long breath. "You wanna see?"

Bucky couldn't help laughing a little, but followed along gamely enough as Clint dragged him up the stairs, then climbed the precarious ladder into the loft before opening the little window that led out onto a just about perchable part of the roof. Bucky led the way out, bracing himself on the weathercock - which was a good thing, since it gave him something to grab when he finally got a look at the corn maze Clint'd been working on so long.

He'd been expecting the title card for Dog Cops, maybe. Or Iron Man in flight, like Clint'd been promising Tony for at least the last few years. He hadn't expected -

"What d'you think?" Clint asked, just by his ear, and Bucky let out a choked laugh, reaching back to grab Clint's hand.

Most of it was - it had to function as a real maze, if it was gonna win, and the complicated knotwork was gonna make it a bitch to run. Bucky's focus, though, was the center of it all, the way the corn had been cut away to ask the curling cursive question Bucky, marry me?

"Think it'll beat the Hawkeyes?" Clint asked, and Bucky turned to drag him down so he could press their foreheads together, so Clint could be close enough to hear him breathe out a fervent yes.

[cherrysrambles]

Riduur (Part 1)

Basically, it got really sappy and cute and Din kind of started turning into Anakin a teeny bit, which is quite funny when you think about it. But then it got sexy. I just like making Din horny

Warnings: yes. 18+ although part 2 makes this look like fluff

Words:1527

‘Din what’s wrong? You’ve been off all night”

He stays silent, what a surprise

“You can’t get angry at every guy that wants to talk to me, and especially not with me”

“I’m not angry because of that” he says as he gently strokes your hair

You pause this time, letting him have his space to open up to you

“I just. I didn’t like how you called me your boyfriend earlier. I mean I am, and I’m so grateful to be, but, I just didn’t like you calling me that”

“Then what do you want me to call you?”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“Your riduur”

Without even thinking you say “Well Din, you’re going to have to marry me first”

“I intend to” he says with conviction”

With Grogu fast asleep and the crest initiated in ground security protocols, you could technically go out for a drink in the nearby cantina while Din picks up some new pucks, right? Wrong.

“Hey pretty lady, mind if I buy you a drink?” This smarmy Twi asks you

“No thank you” you say as you turn to face the other way.

“Come on, one drink won’t hurt”

“It won’t hurt me, but it’ll sure as hell hurt you”

“What?’

“No, go away”

“Why not!?”

“Because my boyfriend won’t like it”

“Yeah and where is your boyfriend?” he says with a sneer

You move your head dramatically to the side signalling that your big, sexy Mandalorian is behind him.

The Twi turns around still laughing “Oh shit! Oh no, hey dude I don’t want any troub” Din grabs him by his lekku and drags him out the cantina. You hear the Twi screaming and then one distinct gunshot. Just when you think Din had gone too far, you hear the Twi screaming in excruciating pain. That’s better then killing him, right?

Din walks back inside and heads straight for you

“Are you ok Meshla?” His gloved hand caress your face.

“I’m fine tha-“ You get cut off by the Twi screaming outside

“Din, what did you do to him!?”

“Shot him in the dick” he says

“That’s a but dramatic don’t you think?”

“I showed him mercy by not killing him. He should be grateful” Another scream “come on, lets head back to our ship”

As you start to walk back you can sense that something is off, Din seems distant and more quiet than usual. You know he’s jealous, but it’s not fair to harbour on to this and bring it home.

As soon as you get into the ship Din heads for the ladder but you grab him and pull him into your bunk. Slowly stripping him of his beskar and boots in the process.

“Get in, I’m going to check on Grogu. I’ll be right back”

Grogu is sleeping soundly, just as you left him, you tuck his blanket around him a little tighter and crawl into your shared bunk with Din. His arms instantly wrap around you, and you rest your head on his chest.

After a moment of silence you speak.

‘Din what’s wrong? You’ve been off all night”

He stays silent, what a surprise

“You can’t get angry at every guy that wants to talk to me, and especially not with me”

“I’m not angry because of that” he says as he gently strokes your hair

You pause this time, letting him have his space to open up to you

“I just. I didn’t like how you called me your boyfriend earlier. I mean I am, and I’m so grateful to be, but, I just didn’t like you calling me that”

“Then what do you want me to call you?”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“Your riduur”

Without even thinking you say “Well Din, you’re going to have to marry me first”

“I intend to” he says with conviction”

“Cyare marry me, be my riduur, lets be bound to each other for longer than an eternity. You’re the only one for me, it’s only ever been you. I didn’t think I’d be able to have any of this, I didn’t think I could love someone the way I love you. I love you so much that it hurts me every moment we’re not together. You are my everything”

“Yes” you say with no hesitation. “Din, I’ve only ever been sure of two things in my life. 1, that Grogu is mine” He laughs, “ours, but go on”

“Ok ours” you laugh. “And that I’ve only ever wanted you and that I want to marry you. To be your wife, your riduur”

“Marry me now” He whispers

“What?”

“Marry me right now Cyare, we can say our vows to one another and we are bounded forever” Then he pauses. “Unless you want a big wedding, which we can do, I want whatever you want”

“Yes” you reply, still shocked at his words.

“Yes to what?” He asks

“Yes to marrying you right now, I don’t need a big fancy wedding, I just need you”

He nods and you both stand up facing one another holding hands

“We’ll say it in Mando’a first, then in basic”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, then we’re bound”

He slowly starts.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde”

Your Mando’a is awful, but you try your best repeating everything word for word.

Then he starts in basic and you smile finally understanding what you were promising, and you happily repeat after him.

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.”

You finish your vows, meaning every word of it and stare into his visor with the biggest smile.

“OK Cyare, I’m ready”

“Ready for what?” You ask confused

He places your hands on the sides of his helmet “ready for you to see my face, for you to see the real me”

You freeze.

“Din, I didn’t marry you because I wanted to see your face, I married you because I love you. You are my everything. Even if we go for however long without me seeng your face then I’m ok with that. I need you to know and understand this”

“What if you don’t like what you see?” He asks, and you can hear the vulnerability in his voice.

“If I looked different would you still love me? Would your feelings change in anyway?” You ask

“No. But it’s a bonus that you’re hot” he says and you can’t help but chuckle at that.

“My love we don’t have to do this now”

“We do, I want to” which has to be the most unconvincing thing Din has ever said to you. So you try a different tactic

“You know I basically know what you look like already, and let me tell you, it’s something”

“Seeing my body isn’t the same as seeing my face Cyare” he says exasperated.

“No, but, I know your skin colour, I know your hair colour, you’ve told me you have brown eyes, I’ve felt your face in my hands, on my body, between my thighs” Your move closer to him.

“I know you have a strong jaw, a talented tongue that loves being inside me, a prominent nose that likes to nudge my clit and if it’s not your nose, then its your pillowy lips sucking hard on my nipples, just how I like. I know you have facial hair, the burns all over my body can attest to that. I know what your voice sounds like without your vocoder, when I’m wearing a blindfold and am on top mercilessly riding you, pulling those delicious noises from deep within. Am I close?” You ask

“I’m ready. Really this time, let’s do it”

And he places your hands on the sides of his helmet again.

Your heart beats so loud that you’re sure he can hear it, you hear the latch open, and your slowly start to lift it off.

Something inside you makes you feel as nervous as he is, maybe more, which is ridiculous after that pep talk you just gave him. As you lift his helmet you see a strong jaw, with a light smattering of stubble, golden skin just like you’d predicted. Higher you lift and there is that talented mouth, that prominent nose and there it is. His eyes, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, looking back at you with so much love.

“Hi Din” you say trying to hold back your tears.

“Hi Cyar’ika” he whispers

His thumb reaches up and wipes your tears away as he leans in for your first kiss as husband and wife. You pull back but he pulls you inn closer, his tongue making its way into your mouth, you can’t help but moan in satisfaction. You both pull back for air and you eyes instantly find his. So you start looking at him, really looking at him.

He starts to fidget “What is it? What do you see”

“Just one second” you whisper as you continue to get a really good look at him.

“Just had a thought” you say

“What?””

“My husband is hot, like really really hot, fuck”

‘Cyare, I think in this relationship you’re the hot one”

“That’s debatable. Now are you going to take your wife to bed and fuck her senseless or what?”

“I’m going to take my riduur to bed. But first I’m going to take my time, savouring every part of you I can touch, making you yearn for me. You will cum for me at least three times before I finally get to be inside you. You’re mine Cyar’ika, forever, and I’m going to remind you of that. I want your whole body to ache tomorrow because of me. I’m going to take my time and mark you. I want everyone that sees you and thinks they have a chance with you to know that you’re taken, that you’re mine and only mine. Do you want that Cyare? Do you want me to dominate you?”

You nod.

“Use your words"

He backs you into the wall and whispers

“Who do you belong to?”

“You”

“Say my name”

“Din Djarin”

And with that, he leads to to your shared bunk.