#try to do some work in the house or go out. for them to see that something happened?

[callmearcturus]

tobias

radiation

fox

is working on the new soundtrack to OFF

hang on the interview with them is actually interesting

What did you think about composing some tracks for the new soundtrack? Well, it's a complicated feeling. Let me clarify. Obviously, Fangamer and Mortis wanted to use the original soundtrack. They tried to reach out to the composer, ACC, to get the rights to use it... but ultimately, he felt nervous about signing anything and disappeared. However, he has stated that he doesn't mind that his music isn't being used, and he has no problem with the new soundtrack. So, it's a bit weird, but everything is chill. That being said, OFF is a very atmospheric and memorable game, and the soundtrack contributed a lot to that. It's an integral part of the memories that people have built of this game. Trying to replace those songs feels like breaking into somebody's house and pasting your face into their family photo album. But, Mortis asked me if I was interested, and, given that his game really inspired me, and he's a super nice guy... I decided I would try my best to help. To ensure that new players, even if they didn't get the exact same experience, would get a pretty cool one. I ended up handling a lot of boss tracks. I attempted to match the game's "style" by aiming for idiosyncrasy and atmosphere over everything else. I think the results are pretty cool. I also was assigned... the normal battle theme. I'm gonna be honest, just feels like I got assigned to take a bullet in the back for everybody else. I looked up almost every jazz song from the 1920s, I commissioned Carlos to make an entire fake jazz song for me so I could cut it up into samples, I tried making like 6 entirely different songs, but nothing I could come up with on my own felt quite right. In the end, I summoned Camellia to help me out by re-remixing my first track into multiple versions, and so ultimately I think it will feel pretty cool as you go through the game. (But, I'll be the first to say that I can't replace your memories...) By the way, I did the music for free, and I'll upload my tracks for free after the game comes out. Personally, I don't think the original music is replaceable, so I want to treat what I made like "fanmusic", made just out of love and respect for the original. Alright, see ya.

Love the remark about "assigned to take a bullet" because for fucking real, imagine being a game music composer and being asked to make a new "Pepper Steak"

for people who are not Certified Game Likers, it's like being asked to make a new version of The Fifth Element. nothing you do will replace the original and most likely you were heavily influenced by its existence, so what do you even do?

/slinks off to listen to "Pepper Steak" again

[swaps55]

I know everything feels so bleak right now, but I need you to believe me when I say there is hope. Sometimes you just have to look for it, in places you're not used to seeking it out.

One of the things I occasionally do for my job is attend networking events with people who work in planning and development for public agencies like cities, state universities, transit agencies, etc. They talk about the projects they're working on, from new roads to new academic buildings to public parks to new rail lines.

These aren't elected officials - these are people who are doing the work. They're looking at the problems the people they serve has, and are looking for ways to fix them. And they're doing the work. They're looking for solutions, fighting with budgets, making compromises to ensure that they can make at least some of these ideas real.

In the one I attended yesterday, I listened to four different transportation agencies talk about all the ways they are trying to extend rail lines to relieve traffic congestion and pull cars off the road. They have so many challenges in their way, but every day they get up, go to work, and try. Because it will make lives better.

Another project in my area is working hard to add a park to one of the most underserved areas of a major city to make lives better for the people who live there. Right now my job is trying to make sure the awesome people I work with are the ones they pick to make that idea a reality. That's cool. That's some good I can put back into the world.

A community college here is going all out to build more on-campus housing to help relieve the housing crisis because of how many students get their education while living out of their cars. They see this happening - and they want to help. Guess what! I voted to give them more money to do those kinds of projects, and they got the money.

I wish you could hear how passionate and excited these people are. They care. They see problems in their communities and want to fix them. Many times they'll have the wrong priorities, have ideas that won't work, suffer unintended consequences, etc. They're human. But still get up and they try. Every day. That hasn't stopped with this new administration. It won't stop.

If the big picture is making you feel hopeless, look at your community and see what's happening there. These are things that can affect you directly - and make your life better. There are Leslie Knopes in the world!

It may feel like you have no power over what's happening, but I beg you not to lose hope. Even the smallest kindness is an act of rebellion right now. They are trying to take good out of the world. Every good thing we put back in it stands in defiance of that. Good comes in so many shapes and forms. Good is still out there.

All is not lost.

[kiszjuli]

BREATHING .ᐟ

✸ donghyuck x reader | genre. angst w happy ending | w.c. 1.1k | ╳

"hey...can...can we talk?" donghuck, your ex as of only a month ago stood outside your front door. his breathing heavy; as if he had ran to your house. the moonlight shinning dimly behind him, you stared with parted lips. your heart pounding as you silently step aside letting him in.

when i just want to settle down heavily you approach me like the moonlight and talk to me

you and donghyuck had a hard break up, neither one of you wanting it in the first place. it was fueled by a string of misunderstandings and frustrations with life. he had gotten home late, exhausted from his whole day of working, so he was already not in a great mood. not that you were either, your boss having been on your ass all day. needless to say, you two got into an argument that you had been trying to avoid.

i'm so up and down that i can't stop i am full of unanswered questions

during the heat of the argument, you both said things you didn't mean. you wish you had know what this stupid argument was going to do to your relationship.

letting out a frustrated sigh you stand from the couch. "you don't get it hyuck! you've been so distant lately, and i feel like i'm the only one trying to make this work. i get it, you're busy, but i am too! and when you are here, it's like you aren't even really here!"

donghyuck stands and raises his voice slightly. "baby, i'm trying! you think this is easy for me? i'm working nonstop, and it's not like i don't care about you anymore...but i can't just drop everything to reassure you of that! i'm tired of you making it seem like i don't wanna be with you!"

you feel yourself getting emotional.

"that's not what i'm saying...i just..i feel like you don't have time for us anymore," your voice cracking as you speak.

donghyuck is hurt by your words, but he masks it with his frustrated voice. "what do you want me to do, y/n? you don't think i feel the same way? every day i can't be here? it hurts me too you know..."

there's tense silence before he speaks up again. "i can't keep trying if you keep making it seem like i'm the only one messing up here..."

your head tilts, feeling your emotions take over your words completely.

"i can't do this anymore donghyuck..i don't wanna keep trying if you've already given up!"

this makes him angry. he felt like you weren't even listening to a thing he said.

"you know what, maybe we're better off apart!" he yells across the couch in your living room.

your heart sinks. "..maybe we are!"

"fine!" he storms passed you to the bedroom to grab a bag and some of his clothes.

you follow him, obviously not wanting him to leave. "wait..." you say as you stand in the doorway.

"this isn't how i want things to end, i think we both just need to cool off," he says and walks passed you to leave, afraid if he actually stopped he would stay.

as he walked out of your house, your words died in your throat, being choked up by tears. you didn't see him again after that, nor did you two speak to each other. that whole month felt like hell. everything seemed to remind you of him, haunting you of your immature words that night.

i've been searching for another meaning will we be able to see each other?

which all leads to the reason why you let him in without another word, shutting the door behind him. he steps in, his familiar and comforting smell enveloping you.

you look up at his once so bright and lively face, seeing his beautiful eyes red with small bags forming under them. your heart clenched.

he takes a deep breath trying to steady his voice before speaking. "i don't...know what to say really. i've been thinking about everything, every day. and.. i hate myself for how thing ended. i should've fought harder- i should've said more." he looks up at you with a pained look.

your face softens a little, trying to hold it together. "donghyuck... it’s not just about the words. you weren’t... there. it felt like i was invisible, like i didn’t even really matter."

his eyes fill with immense regret and pain knowing that he caused this hurt for you. "i know. i know i messed up. i got so caught up in everything—my work, my distractions—that i forgot about us. and the worst part is… i didn’t realize it until you were gone... until you weren’t there anymore,"

donghyuck steps closer to you, reaching for your hands slowly. your warm hands in contrast to his cool ones. you squeeze them a little.

"y/n, i- i feel like i don’t have any air without you. i don’t know how to exist without you in my life, without your voice, without your smile. everything feels so... empty without you. i need you.."

your eyes well up with large tears that spill over without being able to hold them back.

you're my last chance to go back i don't have any air without you

"you don't know how hard it was to watch you leave like that..after what i had just said to you about never being here-" you break down.

his heart seems to break all over again and he pulls you into his arms. you immediately wrapped your arms around his middle, tucking your face into his chest.

"i'm sorry baby, never again will i make you feel that way. never, m'so sorry for hurting you..so sorry.." he holds back his own tears, as he tightens his grip around your frame.

"missed you so much," you say between huffs of air from crying.

breathing, inhaling all the air think about you i reach out and hold you, who shined on me in the darkness

he needed you to understand that he would never make you feel that way again. he pulls away just enough to grab your cheeks in his hands, wiping away tears that stained your face. looking deeply into your eyes he spoke firmly. "i swear to you, i will never let you feel that way again. i'll make sure you never feel invisible or unloved again. i'm gonna fight for us, always." he never falters in his words.

"i love you, donghyuck," you mutter looking up at him.

"i love you baby, always."

when i open my eyes i am at the end of a long night it's warm when i feel our hands holding each other's and my heart starts beating

—

🎧 — breathing by nct dream

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don’t think you’ll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You’re not entirely enthused for the cooking class. The taint of Andy’s intentions follows you down to the community centre, that echoing reminder that you’re inadequate. There is a part of you that cherishes the distraction, the moment outside the house when you’re not mopping or tittering around to make sure everything is perfect. Even so, it’s only to make sure that you don’t give your husband another reason to rant. 

As you enter, you’re greeted by the rather bouncy instructor. She introduces herself a Barb. She’s plump and her pixie cut is died a shade of purplish red. You give her your name and she checks you off the list. 

You look around as she sends you off to find a work station. You’re drawn to a familiar face. You smile and cross the room. 

“Hey, Porsha,” you approach your neighbour. “I thought you’d be home with the twins.” 

She turns to preen at you. Her perfectly highlighted hair ripples in soft waves and you wouldn’t guess that she’s three months postpartum. She greets you with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh, hi, how are you?” 

“Um, okay. How are you feeling? How are the boys?” You ask. 

“A lot. Timothy’s still on his business trip so the nanny’s with the tots. I needed a break,” she explains with a sigh. You see her live-in nanny often; dark-haired woman often dragging out the garbage or schlupping round the stroller. “Mandy’s on her way. We signed up together.” She looks behind her at the counter, “I’m saving her a spot.” 

You glance over and realise each station is made only for two. You take the hint with grace. Her and Mandy were always close. In fact, all the women in the neighbourhood knew each other better than you knew any of them. You’re still the new one and your family is still incomplete. 

“Right, well, I hope you enjoy the class,” you smile. 

“Oh yes, I pumped before I came so I can enjoy some wine. You get a glass to cook with,” she chimes. 

“Ah, that’s... cool. Well, I’ll go find a place,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb. 

You turn and a squeal erupts across the room. Mandy taps furiously over to Porscha, passing you without notice, and the two bounce and hug. You could use some of that wine but you’re not drinking. You promised Andy. 

You find a station in the corner, far from your neighbours. You feel left out even if they don’t mean to exclude you. It’s hard not to when every time you see them, you’re just sort of there and more interested in each other. 

Barb’s full voice fills the room as she welcomes the newcomers. You focus on the counter top, taking in the sink, the cooktop, and the various pieces set out for your work. You’re not so sure about this anymore. You’ll go home and try it on your own then prove to Andy that you will always be mediocre. 

“Pardon,” a thunderous timbre pulls you from your self-pity. You raise your chin as you bat your lashes at the rather large man at the corner of the counter. He smiles. He’s familiar but you don’t think he’s from the neighbourhood, “do you mind if I share? Barb says we should have a partner and my brother declined my invite.” 

“Oh, um,” you look around. The other stations are full. You shrug, “sure, that’s okay.” 

“Wonderful,” he booms in his boisterous voice. You narrow your eyes at him and tilt your head as you try to pluck out where you know him from. 

He’s tall and broad, blonde hair past his shoulders, the front strands pulled back into a runic clip, and he wears a button-up that threatens to split as the buttons strain over his chest. He turns to stand parallel to you and grabs the tongs, clacking them contently. 

You sense the attention of another. You lean to see around the man as Porscha and Mandy whisper behind their hands and stare. You frown and teeter on your toes. 

“Forgive me,” he snaps the tongs again. “I’ve not introduced myself. Thor.” 

“Thor...” you repeat then give your name as his snags in your head. “Thor... you’re not...” you squint at him. 

“Hm, I hoped I’d not draw suspicion,” he tries to make himself smaller in a rather comical way for someone so big. “It is I, yes.” 

“What...” 

“I found this place on a map. I thought perhaps somewhere smaller might afford me some discretion,” he turns his head as he continues to toy with the tongs and he glances around at those peeking at him. “Your planet is rather small and reputations do spread far and wide.” 

“Right, uh, well, yeah, it must be awkward.” 

“Mm, it is not something I’m unused to. I am known across the nine realms and beyond.” He turns back. “But, since I have chosen to reside here for a time, I thought I might learn the customs. The food. I’ve been eating a lot of pizza and well...” he looks down and pats his stomach, the fabric just as taut there. “It’s accumulated.” 

You can’t help but laugh, “mm, pizza. I haven’t had any in ages.” 

“No? In New York, it is everywhere. I find myself inundated.” He declares. “I understand we are to cook... alfr-ee-doo.” 

“Alfredo,” you correct him. “Looks like we’ll be making our own pasta too,” you point at the press. 

“Pasta. Mmm, yes, I do enjoy the dish.” He nods as he scratches his beard with the tongs. He can’t seem to stop his fidgeting. “And what brings the lady to the cookery?” 

“Oh, uh, my husband signed me up,” you say, tucking your hands behind you.  

“He did? And he did not accompany you?” He inquires. “How unfortunate. Were she still speaking to me, I’d have asked my... former acquaintance Jane, but she is far too busy and wise for me. I must admit I was hesitant to attend alone.” 

You nod, “I’m sorry. That’s too bad.” 

“Not very bad. I’ve met you. A lovely young lady,” he proclaims and gestures to you with the tongs. “I can already see you will be a partner preferable to my brother. He is not very skilled at collaboration. I would need to mind the knives.” 

You chuckle again. It feels good to laugh. You only realise then, how long it’s been since you’ve done so genuinely. 

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 11

Hello! And welcome back. You'll be happy to note that this story is now marked complete. It will have a total of 15 chapters that will be released here every Thursday! So I hope you enjoy the ride.

In this we have Steve adjusting to Eddie being home and Hopper runs afoul a creature.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Steve was adjusting to life with Eddie with some difficulty. Since Eddie did most of his work from home, Steve would turn a corner to do the laundry and be surprised to see someone else in the house.

“You had Chrissy and Wayne here for two weeks each,” Eddie huffed with a amusement the third time it happened. “How are you still surprised to see me?”

Steve’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. “I don’t know. I’d guess that it was because they tended to stay to the guest wing part of this massive house and you don’t.” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not that you have to or anything! Just an observation. I’ll get used to it! I promise!”

Eddie chuckled. “I’m not going to lie, having you here sometimes startles me too. I spent nearly a year with just me and the girls and now the house is teeming with people and it’s a bit of a shock to the system.”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yeah, I guess it would be. Do you like it better with people or without?”

Eddie smiled that sweet fond smile that melted Steve’s insides every time. But they were extra melty because that was the first time Steve had seen it aimed at him and he felt warm all over.

“Oh it’s definitely better with people,” he murmured. “Especially knowing that you hand picked everyone and would have never picked someone you didn’t trust. You also somehow managed to make the D&D room something other than a shrine to my past. People play in there now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “You’re welcome. I just did what you asked me to do, to find people I could work with and that’s what I did. I’m just glad it all worked out for you.”

Just then the girls came barreling through the hall like a herd of elephants.

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and then Steve dropped the laundry basket and they both took off after the girls. They chased them through the house until they were cornered in the kitchen.

“Joanie,” Eddie said darkly, “Janie, you were supposed to be napping.”

Both girls looked at each other then at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands on their hips and crumpled. Joan started with the water works first and then Janice.

Eddie and Steve shared an exasperated glance and eye roll, then Eddie picked up Joan and Steve picked up Janice.

“See how tired you are?” Steve murmured as he rocked Janice back and forth. “You’re crying because you need sleep but you’re fighting it.”

“Come on,” Eddie said gently. “I’ll read you a story for your nap so that you can go to sleep. But just this once. This is what Steve is here for. To take care of you while Daddy works, okay?”

Both girls nodded. But in the end Eddie hadn’t needed to read a story to them because halfway up the stairs, Joan fell asleep and at the top, Janice followed suit. Steve and Eddie carefully tucked them into bed, stuff animals piled up around them as fierce guardians. Eddie slipped out first and then Steve, turning the light off behind him.

As Eddie and Steve walked down the stairs trying to be as quiet as possible, they only were able to breathe once they had reached the bottom.

“I’d put them in their own rooms,” Eddie said with an exasperated huff, “if I didn’t know that they would be sneaking into each others rooms anyway.”

Steve licked his upper lip, nodding, “Oh yeah. But they’re also getting to the point where they’re starting to form their own thoughts and opinions and realizing that they don’t match up to their twin.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Steve said, sighing. “Oh, I wanted to let you know that Dustin called, they’re moving the game to Saturday from their usual Thursdays, Lucas is trying out for the basketball team and they’re all going out to support him.”

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know,” Eddie said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re partying or going out drinking on the weekend anymore.”

“God,” Steve said shaking his head. “I remember my frat boys days and it is not something I care to repeat.”

“When did you go to school?” Eddie asked, “I thought it was the circus and nannying?”

“There was about two years where I decided to get an associate’s degree in early child development,” Steve said with a shrug, “and applying at my dad’s former fraternity helped pay for the education.”

“Wow.”

He shook his head. “I was also nannying for a couple where they only needed me on the week days to make sure someone was home and the kid fed before they got off work.”

“Was that the weird taxidermists?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“That would be them,” Steve replied with his own answering grin. “It got me through college and gave me free weekends to blow my liver out.”

“God,” Eddie said, flopping on the sofa, “I remember those days. Before I met and married Ethan.”

“How did you two meet?” Steve asked, sitting next to Eddie.

“Some award show,” Eddie said, rubbing his eyebrow. “Not the Grammy’s, I’d remember that. Teen Choice Awards or the VMAs. Something like that where it was a mix of models, movie stars, and musicians. And he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. He had sea green eyes, coal black hair and a single dimple in his left cheek. I wanted. And the bastard made me chase him. And I did. I think that should have been my first sign he didn’t care for me like I did for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said scooting closer to him. He took his hand into his and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure there were too many signs to count but because he played happy to the hilt you believed it, because you were happy.”

Eddie scoffed. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience there. Any skeletons in the closet you keep your exes?”

“Loads,” Steve said with a snort. “I don’t date much because usually I’m up to my eyeballs in kiddos, but there have been some absolute chunkers of walking red flags in there. Men and women both. They all seemed to wander in search of other people some times breaking up with me first, but not always. But the unending refrain of why never changed. I was too much... of everything I guess.”

Eddie covered Steve’s hand with his other hand. “I don’t think there is anything you could do that would make me think that of you.”

Steve smiled back. “That’s kind of you.”

The back door bang open and there was a lot of swearing, forcing the two men to jump out of their skins, but somehow not apart.

“Those God damned critters!” Hopper cursed. “When I get my hands on them, I’ll skin them alive!”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance before they both got to their feet and followed the sound of cursing to where the house kept their garbage bins on the days it wasn’t out on the curb. Two of the three cans had been tipped over and riffled through. Hopper, the groundskeeper was standing over top of them with his hand on his hips glaring down at the mess.

“Oooh,” Eddie hissed. “What happened here, chief?”

Hopper looked up at them in confusion as if he had forgotten the house populated at all. He blinked a moment. “I didn’t wake the girls did I?”

Steve shook his head. “It would take a sonic boom going off near their heads to wake them once they’ve actually fallen asleep.”

Eddie chuckled, “They’re like their dad that way.”

Hopper breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was worried I had woken up the littles. As to what happened, raccoons is what happened. They get into the trash and just fuck it up.”

“How do you know it’s raccoons?” Steve asked cocking his head to the side. “Couldn’t it have just been someone messing around or even vagrants?”

Jim rubbed his chin. “Could be, but I used to do security on one of the neighborhood houses.” he said wearily, “and they were having raccoon problems. They put locks on the garbage bins and that was that. I’d suggest you do the same.”

Steve nodded. “And if it’s the other two, the lock would fix both problems as well.”

“Eehhh...” Eddie said with a wince. “If my cleaners were anything other than a single mom and her fifteen year old daughter, then I’d agree with the lock and move on. But aren’t there other things we can try first, like those bear proof bins at Yellowstone or whatever?”

“You’ve been to Yellowstone?” Steve asked tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t have thought you were the outdoorsy type.”

“Yup!” Eddie said with a bright smile, rocking back on his heels. “Wayne and I used to travel to all the national parks before I had the girls. We plan are starting back up next year or the one after now that they aren’t babes in arms anymore.”

“I’ll look into get some,” Hopper said clearing his throat so their attention was back at the matter at hand. “See if I can find some approved by the county. I’ve got a friend who’s a wildlife rescuer. Maybe he can loan me some traps so we get the critter some place safer.”

Eddie nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure the girls would appreciate knowing that the animal isn’t going to be harmed.”

Hopper got a twisted sort of smile. “Had a little girl myself once, I know how tenderhearted they can be.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve murmured, noting the past tense of that statement.

Hopper cocked his head and then shook it ruefully. “Pastor says she’s in better place, ain’t sure if I believe that anymore.”

“I hear that,” Eddie said, “I felt the same way when my mom died. Everyone was telling eight year old me that she was in a better place. When I thought the best place she could be was with me.”

Hopper nodded. “I get to it. I didn’t mean to startle you. Have a good day.” Then he wandered off to find garbage bags to clean up the mess.

“Grumpy, old man,” Eddie said fondly. “He’s good at his job though. How did you entice him away from his other job?”

Steve grinned. “I told him that he could live on the property rent free and be left alone for the most part.”

Eddie threw back is head and laughed. “That would do it all right. And it’s not like I don’t get wanting to be left the fuck alone. He does his job and his does it well. Ten of ten, no complaints from me.”

“I really should get back to doing the laundry,” Steve said jutting his thumb behind him to inside the house.”

Eddie checked his watch. “And I’ve got a Zoom meeting with some weirdo nu metal band who wants me to produce their album. Lord save me from Nu Metal!”

Steve just shook his head and the two of them went inside. Maybe living with Eddie wasn’t as hard as he thought it was.

~

Tag List: ONE SLOT OPEN!!

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @yesdangerpls @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon

[pepstarvanmoon]

Someone please get El out of there

Is it not obvious what this is? Do you really not know what you should be doing? SAY THE DAMN WORDS.

Why do you think she’s doubting you? Can you really not tell?

Mike, sweetheart, your relationship balancing skills are a terror to your friends, family, and romantic partners.

This is why people found Midleven cuter in S1/2, because the day you made it official marked the beginning of El’s doubts in your feelings for her.

You cannot seem to grasp that El is your friend AND your girlfriend, and somehow treating El like a girlfriend equates to treating her like shit.

You cannot make this up. El needs WORDS because Mike’s ACTIONS actively make her feel unloved. She does not feel it, so she wants some kind of verbal/written affirmation because of how emotionally distant Mike feels.

(someone talented please edit Elmike to Hamilton’s Burn or send an existing edit my way, thank you ♡)

His actions do not align to her expectations of love, not that it’s a good idea to let TV define romance for you, but you’re allowed to want/expect certain things in a relationship, and El isn’t getting that.

And let’s not act like Mike isn’t good at making people feel loved/cared for. Will is in love with him for a reason. El loves him for a reason.

(It was difficult to pick scenes for this because I’ve read arguments for how these aren’t really romantic at all, but from 12/13-year old, “fresh out the lab” Eleven, it’s as romantic as romance gets imo)

El has been trying to convince herself that their relationship is better than it is, because once she admits to herself that it’s not working, what does she do?

Her day-to-day life isn’t that great. Sure, she has her new family in the Byers, but her dad recently passed away and she’s being bullied at school. She has no friends outside of Will, and while I’m sure their relationship is great (wasn’t explored that much tbh), he can’t keep her from feeling isolated, and his own trauma with bullying keeps him from standing up for her.

One good, unchanging thing she has is her relationship with Mike. He’s the one who took her in and housed her, he taught her what it meant to be a friend, and… I’m having a bit of trouble here lol. I was going to say:

Never used her for her powers (not true lol)

When she was burnt out, he never expected more from her (not true LOL)

Never treated her differently for her powers (for this one, he found her awesome in an awestruck way rather than a Brenner “I’m gonna exploit this” way, but when he thought she lied about Will/hurt Lucas he was on her ass lmao)

My girl has those ‘first love’ blinders on. I keep having to ask myself what she sees in him besides ‘first person to accept me + we kissed’ like besides the latter, Dustin was right there. A lot of the parts of Mike I enjoy don’t reveal themselves around El outside S1 (barely S2). He’s shown as caring and protective, but he’s like that for all of his friends?? Especially when they’re in danger so idk what’s different. I’d have to peruse the milkvan tag to get a hint, but I’ll probably get a better idea watching Sleeping Beauty.

I’m a firm believer that Mike kept it ambiguous because he didn’t want to admit what the real problem was to Will.

“I couldn’t tell El that I love her.” - simple as that. Must be something about Will that has him holding his tongue because after S3 I doubt he’d have that much trouble telling Lucas.

Are you embarrassed? If you thought it wasn’t that serious you wouldn’t have told Will that it was something you “can’t come back from”. Is love serious to you, Mike? Because you can’t love El in the way she wants, do you think you’re incapable of it? Do you feel wrong? Do you not want Will to know?

Hit a little too close to home, huh.

(and let’s not get into the "team, friends, best friends" scene they had together like what was the point in having them make contact a SECOND time.

They already established a connection between them. Mike could’ve asked to be a team after the "guess it's gonna be up to us again," and Will could’ve taken the painting offscreen (the focus shot of Will grabbing the painting gets me so bad like WHY), but instead they wanted them to blush and giggle over each other AGAIN before they got to the van.

Make it make non-Byler sense I'm begging.)

You’d think that’d be good enough, but Mike still feels conflicted and has to make it Will’s problem (actually, Will kinda made it his problem. The way they shot the triple take makes it seem like Will dragged Mike away for another talk because of how spacey he was being. Who knows.)

Tf do you mean you didn’t know what to say? “Maybe if I said that thing” so you DO know? It’s painfully cut and dry if you take emotions out of it. El wants Mike to say that he loves her, so to fix this, to come back from that fight, Mike has to say he loves her.

Why is it such an internal battle for him? If I were to take it at face value, I’d chalk it up to what he said in the van scene.

So your solution is to push your relationship to a point that has El crying and throwing all the loveless letters you sent to the floor? To tell her that she’s incredible and a superhero and that she should know how you feel about her because, despite the tears streaming down her face and her DIRECTLY asking you if you still love her, she must know how amazing she is too?

NEWSFLASH, Queerler! She’s learning just how much she doesn’t need you right now, so I guess it’s time to face your fears!

This isn’t what I meant, but go off ig (don’t, actually, this is awful for everyone involved).

No way you expect El to buy this. You’ve expressed this fear of "losing El" to Will, I’ll give you that, but nothing you’ve done IN FRONT OF EL has conveyed this. Your letters weren’t helping, and you being there in person only made it worse.

Eagerly awaiting the day Michael Wheeler stops lying.

Well, I guess he doesn’t lie ALL the time.

[wri0thesley]

a prize to be won - capitano x fem!reader (5.3k)

you are not there for the destruction of your home. but you are there for the aftermath, when you catch the eye of the captain.

cw: dark content. kidnapped 'spoils of war' reader, descriptions of a razed village and death of everyone reader knows. explicitly fem reader. dubious consent, alcohol. based on this post.

this was a commissioned work.

You have never seen so much destruction. 

You have never even thought you would see so much destruction, truth be told; the very idea of such things has never crossed your mind, when your village is ordinarily so calm and peaceful. You have loved your home fiercely and protectively your whole life - you have done everything asked of you, you have shared in the joys and the sorrows of your neighbours. Your home life is a humble one - your father a baker, your mother his assistant, your older brother set to inherit the bakery with the understanding you would work in it until the end of your life too - but it is not one you have ever maligned! 

You've felt, perhaps, a rumbling of discontent once or twice - the thought that out there, there might be something more than what you have always dreamed about - but it has always been quickly quashed when you've been called to work, or your father has smiled at you or your friends embraced you. This is a good life you lead, and you are happy to live it. 

Your village is supposed to be peaceful. 

Your village has stood for years and years; was here for your grandparents and their grandparents before them. There are people who say the great tree in the village square is a thousand years old or more, who'll tell stories about the settlement that sprung up beside it with a laugh about how it will probably stand for a thousand more--

And yet, in front of you is the heart-rending proof that this is not to be so. 

You feel yourself start to shake. 

You had only gone out for a few hours; to gather some flowers for the bakery's window, some herbs that grew in the woods that your father would turn into deliciously flavoured bread. You had expected to come home, as you have so many times before, to the exact same place that you had left. Who would expect anything else?

But before you--

You can hear shouting and screaming, the beat of boots on the ground. Great plumes of smoke rise up from the houses that you know just as well as your own, as fire devours thatch and wattle and everything else the walls are made from - your own home is on the other side of the village, and it makes your stomach twist and ache to think that it could be following the same fate. 

You do not understand. 

You drop the basket you're holding, your arms suddenly feeling far too weak to support even themselves, let alone your spoils. Your feet drag against grass as you numbly, desperately, try to make yourself approach the smouldering ruins of your home. Nobody has seen you, not yet - but as you walk, as the smoke stings at your eyes and your throat, you can begin to make out figures striding amongst the carnage. 

Big-booted, armoured and weapon-furnished figures, in helmets and furs, barking out orders in an accent you can only just place. 

The Fatui. 

But why here? Why now? Why your village? 

It would be foolish, you know, to go any further. A clever girl would turn tail and run and hide out amongst the forest and the wilderness until the threat has gone and then maybe return to her home to see what the damage that has been wrought is. Your family have always been proud of you for being that kind of clever girl, when you've found errors in the accounting or remembered some little detail or other your harum-scarum brother is too bright and bouncy to keep in his head. 

It is not clever of you to duck beneath the fence of the nearest home, to sidle into the garden, and to pick yourself a path behind the houses to try and stay out of sight. 

You cannot simply go into the wilderness, not fully knowing if perhaps within that cacophony of flame and noise and horrors your family may still be alive and frightened and able to be saved. You have never thought yourself a particularly brave person, but it turns out that when one is in dire straits a hidden well of courage may be tapped into, and that is how it feels as you work your way through the grassy back gardens, ducking behind hedges and trees and walls and begging all of the Archons you can think of for their aid in staying hidden. 

You hear screams, sometimes, and wet plunges and noises that are worse, and you cannot bear to think of what is happening to your friends and your neighbours. If they catch you, what will happen? Will they throw you to the fire? Will they plunge blades into the soft flesh of your body, will they tear you limb from limb, will you even have time to beg for your life before the rush of death is upon you? 

You try not to think about it. 

You're doing well, you think. You get closer and closer to the side of your village that your own home is on (you cannot go past the bakery - it is far too central, and has probably already been ransacked. You can only ask the Archons for their grace that your family was not inside of it when the Fatui squadron arrives). 

And why are the Fatui here anyway? Simply for the pleasure of murder and pain and suffering? There are no riches in this village - there is nobody important, nothing that ought to have dragged a whole army down onto you--

You slide yourself into a small alleyway between two houses. With the sun setting, you are more hidden - and you must cross the centre of the village in order to reach your own home. You cannot stay on this one side forever. The spot is sheltered in shadows, at least, and you will yourself to peer into the murk of the darkness to ascertain whether you can dart out without too much attention.

You hear a crunch of leaves underfoot and your heart flees into your throat. You stop dead where you are, but as the noise gets louder and louder, you realise you have been found. You will not reach your home before the Fatui reaches you. You will not get to give your father one more kiss, your brother one more whisper of how proud he makes you, and bury your face in the sweet powdery scent of your mother's apron for one last moment. 

He rounds the edge of the alley and stands there, an impressive figure caught in strands of moonlight, a visor down over his face, a cloak billowing around him. Trembling, you raise your chin to look your death straight in his face. 

When the figure speaks, his voice is low and dark and rasping. 

"Well," he says. "What do we have here?"

Everything about this man tells you that he is more than just some Fatui grunt. There is a certainty in the way he stands and surveys you, a craftsmanship to his armour that you have not seen in any of the other soldiers, a commanding tone to his voice than can only belong to a man who is used to issuing orders and even more used to those orders being followed to the letter. You are still trembling, and you do not lower your gaze. 

You wish you could tell if he was smiling, or if he was preparing to strike you down - but behind his armour, his face remains a mystery to you, no matter how badly you may wish to know. 

"Who are you?" He asks you, surprising you. You are expecting death, truth be told; the rest of your village, it seems, is burning around you. There is no reason to suspect you may be spared that fate. 

You tell him your name, still trying desperately to cling onto the bravery that has made you lift your chin and stand proudly instead of running away. Far better to die staring it down, you remind yourself, even as it feels that your insides are a snarl of knots begging you to run. You even tell him that your family owns a bakery in the village. Even, at the end, you find yourself asking this; 

"And who are you?" 

It is enough to surprise a laugh out of him - a strange noise, half low velvet and half wheeze, as if he is unaccustomed to making merriment. That helmet stays levelled at you, and you see a hint of blue fire behind the darkness where his eyes should be, and you get the distinct impression that you are being observed. Sized up. Considered. 

"I am the Captain," he says, eventually. He does not elaborate beyond that, but you do not need him to. 

Rumours do not often make it this far out, but the exploits of Il Capitano have certainly preceded him. You have heard tell that he is a monster of a man, that his men will kill you as soon as look at you, that he leaves a trail of ruined cities in his wake, let alone villages. If this is truly the Captain before you, then you are in even worse trouble than you anticipated, and any last-minute desperate hopes that your family may be alive vanish on the wind as you swallow back tears. 

He must be able to see the shake in your shoulders and the sway in your knees, but you do not let yourself show any more weakness than that. Your gaze stays steady, even as you feel a tear roll down the apple of your cheek. 

"Then I suppose I am going to die here," you say, your tone final. You swallow. You lift your chin even more, exposing the soft and vulnerable skin of your throat, hoping he will make it quick. You are all the more aware of your clothing now than you were before - the simple peasant dress, well-made but worn, the skirts and the aprons you had just a few hours earlier gathered herbs in. It feels like almost nothing, standing before Capitano in furs and silver and armour, but it is yours. And a peasant girl dies as a peasant girl lives. 

You prepare yourself for the swing of a sword, the gush of hot blood down your neck - but Capitano does not so much as place his hand upon his sword. He simply continues to look at you in that terribly interested way, as if you are a puzzle he desires to solve. 

"You would give your life to me so easily?" He asks you. "Give everything up, little flower, and die here?" 

"It is no more than everyone else in my village has done," you say, trying to be careful with your words. If you are too rude, perhaps he will drag you into the town square - perhaps he will make an example out of you, before his men. And though you are prepared and expecting to face your death, you would rather not make it even worse than it has to be. 

A figure appears at Capitano's side, and then another; two of his men, who immediately fall to their knees and do not pay you a whit of attention. 

"We're done here, My Lord," they say, in the voices of sycophants. "We have no useful information. No intel at all." 

Is that what they were looking for in your little humble village? Intel about what? Nobody here goes further than the next village over! What could they possibly know that would be of any use? 

"Very good," Capitano says, without turning his helmet from you. The two grunts laboriously pull themselves up from their knees, finally sneaking a glance at the peasant girl still standing, wondering what you must be doing here. Wondering if Capitano is about to kill you. "One more thing," he says - the men straighten to attention, waiting for whatever orders their leader is about to give. 

You think you hear the ghost of a smile in his voice. 

"I wish to take a souvenir," he says. "Bring this one back to camp and put her in my tent."

You are not fool enough to struggle against the Fatui who come to you, who take you by your arms - gentler than you'd expected - to march you on your way. You suppose they do not want to risk hurting you, when Capitano has expressed such an interest - but it rankles in the back of your throat that you are nothing more than a 'souvenir', some thing that can be taken and placed as and where the Captain pleases. 

But you are lucky to not have been killed where you stand. 

They march you out of your village, and you try not to look at the burnt-out husks that were once your neighbour's homes - you try not to let your eyes desperately seek out the shell that was once your family's bakery, or worse, your home. You keep your chin high and your lips pressed tight together, and all of the thoughts and feelings that are spooling around your head remain silently trapped within there. You do not think you would like anything you will hear from these soldier's mouths. 

The campground is more alive than you would expect - and it simply makes you feel worse. When they have meat aplenty, to roast on open fires, when they have fine furs to drape over their tents and books to read . . . why ransack your home? Why not just search for this so-called 'intel' and leave? But you cannot say this aloud. You bite your tongue. 

Before you know it, you are brought to the biggest tent of all. It stands tall and royal-blue, imposing and regal in the insignias and crests embroidered upon it. The two Fatui guards push you inside, and you hear the sound of something zipping, and see their shadows take guard outside to make sure you make no attempt at running. 

As if you would. 

You would not get a hair's-breadth from the tent before you found yourself shot or stabbed or grabbed or worse, and all the more painful they will make it when they realise you are running from their leader. You bring a hand up to smooth over your hair, noting ruefully that in your morning activities foraging and your attempts to sneak around, you are dusty and dirty and out of place. The tent is a strangely clean place, for all of the bloodshed that its occupant must regularly indulge in. 

You take a moment to peek around it. There are those fine, expensive furs - there are bottles of wine and alcohol stacked together, a makeshift desk scattered with papers and quills and ink, a bedroll far bigger than any you've ever seen festooned with pillows and blankets and more of those same white pelts. It is only a tent, only designed to be brought from place to place, somewhere to sleep at night and nothing more - and yet within it, there is more luxury than you would have ever seen in your humble cottage home. 

Voices from outside. 

A low rumble that you now recognise as the Captain makes you stand up, stock-still and straight, from the books you were crouching to read the spines of. You press your hands into fists at your side and wait for the flaps of the tent to open and for the Captain to come in, to kill you or worse, all fury and blood and desire. 

It does not happen like that. 

Il Capitano does enter the tent, and you notice that he dismisses the two grunts standing guard outside with an order ending '. . . and bring it back here'. You wonder what it is they are to bring back - something to dispose of your body, perhaps? But he does not rush at you. In fact, he strips his sword from his side to rest it in a rack by the entrance of the tent, and then he stands there, regarding you once more. 

The silence stretches between the two of you like a thing that can be seen, a shroud of fear on your side and amusement on his. Finally, you break: 

"Are you going to kill me now?" You ask him, hating the tremble of your voice. It is difficult to get a read on whatever it is he is thinking, with the mask covering his face, but he tilts his head to the side. 

"I would not have brought you here to kill you, little flower," he says. "What do you think I wish to do?" 

"I . . ." You swallow. There are hundreds of possibilities running through your head, and you do not like a single one of them. "I don't know." 

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says, after a pause, your fear shimmering in the air. "I would not have wasted my time."

"Why not?" That one falls from your lips before you can deadfall it, and your shoulders draw in, all fear. You shouldn't be questioning why he doesn't wish to rip you limb from limb! You should be grateful to still have all of your internal organs on the right side of your body! But . . . you are nothing special, and you do not understand what it is that has saved you thus far. 

Capitano crosses the room instead of answering you, and one of his gauntlet-clawed fingers tilts up your chin instead, to look down at you with that inscrutable blue-fire gaze behind the mask he wears. 

"You didn't run," he says to you, after a moment. "You didn't scream. You're terribly sweet to look at. You trembled and shook like a leaf, all big wide deer-eyes - and yet you stood firm and strong and brave. Why do you think I had you brought back to my tent, little doe?"

You are saved from answering the question by the tent opening - and those two Fatui grunts from earlier enter, hauling between them what looks like a large tin bath. One of them goes to a corner and begins to poke and prod at a fire, and then they place it before the fire and bow respectfully at Capitano. A creeping tendril of dread strokes down your spine as you look at it, and Capitano calls out a thanks as they leave. 

He turns back to you. 

"You're filthy," he tells you, and that gauntleted hand strokes over your cheek now, and further down, until it rests against the bare skin of your collarbone. "Will you undress for me and let me bathe you, or do I have to unclothe you myself?" 

Oh. Oh. 

"I--" You fumble, the truth crashing about you like a tidal wave. Your hands flutter helplessly. But there is no escape, is there? And if you wish to keep your life-- "I can undress myself," you say, swallowing back more protestations and begging. You strip off your apron, and move to the buttons of your blouse - through it all, Capitano's eyes remain hidden by his mask, just a flash of blue fire. But you know he is looking at you. You know he is watching, as your skirt falls to the ground, and then your chemise, and then you are standing bare and shivering in his tent. 

"Beautiful," he says, after a moment. "And you'll be all the more beautiful once clean. In the bath, please, little flower."

You give one last lingering look to your pile of clothes - the last remnant of your home life - and hope he will not have them destroyed, before you cross the short distance to the tub before the fire. You lower yourself into it gingerly, expecting it to be either boiling hot or freezing cold - but as you dip a toe in, you find that the temperature is perfect. It soothes the aches and bruises you have from your adventures today, and you can't stop the soft sigh of pleasure that falls from your lips as you fold yourself into it. You hear Capitano let out a low chuckle - and then he is kneeling beside you. 

You notice he has shed his gauntlets, now - but he still wears dark gloves beneath them, and he seems not to care if they get wet as he reaches forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"I shan't hurt you," he reminds you, in that low voice like the churning of an ocean. "Submit to me. Let me take care of you." 

It is a strange thing to hear after everything he has done, but you are at his merch, so all you do is give him a stiff little nod. You wonder if he smiles at your acquiescence beneath the helmet, even as he reaches to a small shelf beside the fire and pulls out a collection of jars and bottles and washcloths and sponges, in colours and shapes and sizes that feels like an excess to you. 

He pours something sweet-smelling and floral into the bath water, uses one hand to swish it through so that the sweet scent will permeate your body, and it seems it flows up from the surface of the water in almost-visible swirling curlicues.

(At home you are used to bathing in a similar tin bath, but there is one washcloth for each of you, a communal bar of soap, and the thought of anything so luxurious as bath oils or your own shampoo would get you a scolding for the waste of money. You have never wanted for such things - you are content with your life - but the thought that Capitano would use them, on you, a lowly peasant girl--)

The first thing he does is reach into the water, to swell the sponge - and your breath catches as he leans closer, and then the sponge is slowly working over your body, to clean the dirt and the dust of the day from your skin. You feel like you cannot breathe at his closeness - and you expect him to take advantage, to use this as a way to touch you more--

But he does not. You find it rather strange how his body does not seem to kick off any heat, but he is so close as he leans to work at a particularly stubborn grass stain on your shoulder that you cannot give it more than a single moment's thought. 

The way he cleans you is almost worshipful - ritualistic, slow and careful and thorough. Your breath shakes in your chest, as he reaches the curve of your breast. And though he does indeed clean it, though the sponge does indeed brush over your nipple and make it pebble and harden, he does not linger any longer than he needs to in order to ensure your cleanliness. 

Even when he switches to a washcloth and he dips it between your thighs - he notices, from the brief tense of his shoulders, that you react to the sensation - he does not push further. 

"Your hair, now," he intones, and he moves to kneel behind you - and with those same fingers that washed you like he was a postulant in a church, he works through the tangles, smooths and cleans it, until it lays about your shoulders in clean wet strands. 

You think this is to be it, but Capitano is not yet done in this strange pampering - he reaches for other things, for other bottles full of ointments and lotions and potions, and he works those, too, into your skin where it is red or bruising. You can do nothing but stay there in the tin bath, as he calmly continues. 

"You will want for nothing, now," he tells you, as he dabs something sweet smelling on your collar bones, behind your ears - you think this is perfume oil, though you've never been able to afford it. "I will take care of you, little flower. You will be my most prized of all." 

Your hair, as he works more floral oil through it. And then he is standing, taking your arms to help you up - your knees feel strangely weak, like they will buckle beneath you. You have never felt quite so clean, even after baths at home. Flour always seemed to linger in the cracks of your palms, dough beneath your nails. But you feel as if you move in a cloud of fresh-scented air, as Capitano's massive bulk lifts you from the bath as easily as if you were a doll and wraps a fluffy towel about your body, thicker and more luxurious than the scratchy old ones that you have - had - at home. 

You feel strange. Warm and hot and wanted, and fearful at the same time of what Capitano will want from you now he has cleaned you. You can feel a strange stirring between your thighs - an awareness of your body that you are not used to. You have never given much thought to the men of your village. You have always thought one day you would marry, of course . . . but no men have ever caught your attention. 

And though Capitano is your kidnapper, though he has lain waste to everything you have ever known - he is broad and mysterious and far more gentle than you would have expected, and him being the first one to touch you in such a way has ignited a fire within you that you do not know how to quell. 

"Come over to the bed, little lamb," he says to you - and like a lamb, docile and obedient, you follow him. 

This must be it, you think. This is when he will shove you onto his bedroll and have his way with you, wanting as only a man can, using you as nothing more than a receptacle - and then you can once more hate him, and these strange feelings whirling in your stomach will finally abate, and life will put itself back on an axis you understand. 

It is still not as you expect. You should not have thought anything would be, in this strange new existence you have found yourself in.

Instead, he cups your cheek and murmurs against your ear; 

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

You realise you have not eaten all day, and you feel your cheeks heat as you give him a nod. It still feels frightening to let him know of your weaknesses - but as you say it, he produces a tray laden with breads and cheeses, and places it upon the bed between you. You go to take a slice, but Capitano stops you - and then he is hand-feeding you, as delicately and with as much care as he had washed you. 

It's delicious. You are used to freshly baked bread, as a baker's daughter, but the soft sweetness in your mouth is something else - you are almost glad that he's feeding you himself, for after the day you have had you are hungry, and you are not sure you wouldn't shame yourself falling upon it like a wolf. 

"Pace yourself," Capitano says, and though you cannot see his face there is a smile in his voice. "There is more where it came from. You will not want for anything, my sweet flower. Not ever again." 

He decides when you have had enough - your stomach comfortably full, as he moves the tray and takes it across the room for some lowly other Fatui member, you're sure, to clean up. You feel that fear again, as he moves towards you, and you realise the wide bedroll you are on is draped all over with furs and cushions, and you are still in nothing more than the towel he wrapped you in after bathing you. 

"A drink," he says, and it is not a request. He brings a bottle of wine and one glass over to you, and you watch as he pours the viscous red liquid into the glass, so like the colour of blood that you have to dampen the fear that goes coursing through your veins. He must notice that you have tensed, for he softens his words as he says; "It will make you relax. It will make this easier. I have no desire to hurt you, little lamb." 

So you let him wrap one of his strong, big hands around the back of your head, cradling you as gently as one would cradle a lover. You let him lift the glass to your lips and tilt it, until the red wine - sweet and thick and cloying - slips down your throat as easily as silk. You have drank before, but never something so rich, never something so expensive - never with a man like Capitano beside you. 

"There," he murmurs against your ear, cradling you, holding you, his body still cold but firm and strong behind you. "Another sip. Good. Good girl." You swallow what he gives you, and in time - as you're laid there for him, as you're held and coddled and treated as precious glass - you feel that familiar sensation. 

A warmth that spreads to your toes and makes you feel as though you're floating on air - a soft kind of airiness, as if the things that are happening around you are not truly real. Capitano does not lean down to kiss you, but you understand why he has carefully gotten you just drunk enough to feel light and expectant when he peels your towel away and tosses it aside, leaving you utterly bared before him on his bed. 

"Beautiful," he murmurs, and this time he does let his hands learn the shape of you. This is no quick attempt to clean you - he is not intending gentlemanly cleaning now. This is a desire to hold you and touch you--

And yet he still does not wrest control from you, as you had feared he might. 

"I have promised," he murmurs, "that I would not hurt you." The curve of his palm, taking hold of the heavy weight of your breast - your nipple gently tugged between thumb and forefinger, just enough so that your back arches involuntarily and a soft whine escapes your mouth that makes him sigh. "I do not break my agreements, little flower. You are safe."

You ought not to feel safe. You ought to be terrified - you ought to be wondering if, when he has had his fill of your body, he will toss you aside. You ought to be wondering how much of this is a lie. But Capitano's hands are stroking over your waist, your hips, the softness of your thighs. When he urges you to spread them, you cannot help but do so. 

"Exquisite," he breathes, as he uses his thumbs to spread open your sex, the coolness of the air hitting it and making you fight back the squirming. You do not want him to touch you. You want him to touch you more than you've ever wanted anything before. 

"Lovely," he murmurs, when he leans down and presses his helmet up just enough for a mouth - strangely cold, again, a tongue harder and longer than you're expecting - to wrap around your nipple, for teeth to graze the sensitive skin and your body to go on high alert that he will bite and eat you alive the way that fairy stories and rumours of the Fatui have said that they so enjoy doing. 

"Perfect," he murmurs, when he brings his thumb to your mouth and you - terrified and brave, afraid and yielding, unsure and battling with your own conscience - open your lips to let him slide the tip of it past your lips, to rest there. 

And when he moves, when he covers you, when you feel the stiffness of something impossibly hard and big pressing against your inner thigh, he murmurs;

"Will you be good for me, little lamb? Will you be my spoils?" 

Your throat is dry when you answer him; the only answer you can really give. An answer that gives up your personhood, that reduces you to nothing more than a prize to be won - but an answer that wins you, at least, your life. 

"Yes, My Lord. Yes."

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Let The Rain Fall | Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Reader | Short Series - Part 2 of 4 - 1.9k

Bucky gets a welcome surprise and you finally meet Captain America. But when things don't go quite how you expect, you start regretting your decisions.

Warnings: reader is very obviously uncomfortable, some mention of workplace bullying from other agents and the preamble to reader having a meltdown.

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read Part 1, I've been so ovewhelmed by the really personal responses and support, thank you! I also love how much the fabric softener scent has been brought up! This is definitely me and is an Easter Egg I've left in other fics too, so if you do check out any of my other stories keep your eye out!

<- Part 1

Masterlist | Let the Rain Fall Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

The last thing Bucky expected when he pushed the door to the hanger open was to see you sat on the benches with the other recruits. He noted there was a foot of space between youand the agents beside you, their voices loud and echoing. You were wearing the suit he’d brought you, you seemed comfortable enough apart from the zipper, which you were pulling up and down in time to the hum of the fan above your head.  

He was pleased you’d come, but something like guilt twisted inside of him at the look on your face. You looked genuinely pained, agonised, and he wondered, not for the first time that week, whether there was something you hadn’t told him.  

“Good to see you all.” He said, eyes scanning the room but consciously not settling on anyone as he walked past.  It was too tempting to let his gaze linger on you.

A chorus of ‘good morning, Sergeant Barnes’’ followed him as he entered the jet and took his place in the cockpit.  

The day was as uneventful as Bucky had described, a short ride on the jet and then an hour hovering over some empty base while the other recruits worked with Steve.

Each time the comm crackled you had a rush of panic that you’d be expected to join them on the ground, an opportunity you’d shook your head at and then allowed Steve to move on very quickly to the agent beside you. 

You gripped the seat harder, your jaw clenched. Closing your eyes you took a deep, steady, breath trying to imagine your happy place, a safe place, inside a tent, under a blanket and... 

“Are you okay, agent?” Bucky’s low voice echoed through your imaginary tent, breaking your peace. The dark utility of the plane came rushing back. 

“I’m not going down there.”  You said decisively, adrenaline coursing through you, preparing to argue. You could feel it, making your leg shake in anticipation of defending yourself.

“Okay.”  Bucky shrugged a shoulder.

“I’m serious I’m - wait, did you say okay?” You opened your eyes to find Bucky sat in the empty seat next to you, the jet clear of anyone else. His long legs were splayed open as he let his weight rest against the netting behind you.  

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Just came to make sure you’re alright.”  

The lead weight of dread that had been settling in your gut vanished and, weightless, you smiled, “better now.”  Adrenaline still flooding your body you tried to hold back tears of relief.

“Is there anything you did want to see? Steve said you oversee mission debriefs? Maybe you’d like to watch the mission from the cockpit with me?” Bucky stood then, holding his hand out to you briefly before tucking both hands into his pocket awkwardly.  

“I’d like that, thank you.”  

Bucky wasn’t sure he’d ever had such a nice time waiting in the jet. He was often resigned to babysitting the Avengers’ jet, car, boat, horrid little safe house, whenever there was actual teaching to be done. He didn’t mind so much, it gave him the space to read his books, listen to some music or catch up on all the history he’d either missed or inadvertently been a part of. 

But today you were there too, and your presence brought him a sense of calm that had truly surprised him. 

“Make yourself at home.” He insisted, gesturing to the spare seat. 

“Thanks.” You sat carefully.

“I mean it, make yourself comfortable, we’ll be here for a while. You want a drink?” Cautiously you tucked your legs up, crossing them on the seat. Your boots were clean, immaculate even, worn only through the compound and into the hanger this morning, but you were careful to keep them as far off the seat as you could anyway. 

Bucky poured coffee from a large flask tucked into the side of his seat and topped it off with a generous helping of milk. 

“That’s just how I like it.”

He smiled, wide and pleased, “I asked around, wanted to make sure you enjoy your first mission.” 

That flutter appeared in your chest again, the surprising desire to stay close to him that had first made itself known when he'd squeezed himself in to your tiny office.

“Not really a mission if I don’t do anything,” you blew steam from the top of your enamel cup and took a sip, cupping your hands around the warm metal. 

“Well, that's all I’m doing and I’m an ‘Avenger’.” Bucky laughed making his voice deeper as he said Avenger before reaching his arm out to clink your mugs together. “Cheers to the easiest job on the roster.” 

You fell into an easy silence, Bucky read his book for a while until you couldn’t hold it in anymore and told him you’d read it a few weeks before. Before you knew it two hours had melted away and you were curled up comfortably in Steve’s seat, giving Bucky a run down of your favourite books so far that year. He watched you, the wide grin softening into an indulgent smile while you blossomed before his eyes. 

Some of the other agents had been whispering about you, while you boarded the jet, that you were odd, childish, over the top and impossible to be around. But he enjoyed the exuberant way you described each plot, the glimmer of excitement in your eyes when he agreed with you and the blunt dry way you told deadpan jokes before breaking into peals of laughter. 

Silently he prayed that you’d come with him again, just to spend time with him even if you didn’t want to be in the field.  

You surprised Bucky by coming on the next recon as well, even agreeing to accompany him to collect Steve and some other agents from a secondary base. Silently, you followed him into the cockpit and set your bag down next to him, tac suit immaculate apart from one addition, a small toy turtle on a keyring that dangled from the zipper.

“I got you a present,” you said once the jet was at altitude and Bucky had flicked a considerable number of important looking buttons and levers. Steve and the others had parachuted in this time, your stomach had turned just watching them.

Bucky turned to look at you, the clear blue of the sky reflected in his eyes. 

“Really? You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know, but I saw them in the gift shop in New York and, well, I like mine so-” trailing off you rummaged in your bag, pulling out a paper gift bag sealed with tape. 

Bucky took the little parcel from you and carefully opened it, removing the fluffy socks, striped like his arm, that were tucked up inside and staring at them.  

“Oh god that was stupid, I’m so sorry.” Your heart beat wildly, sweat forming on your brow.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, a way to keep you focused while you saw your doctor in New York. The city didn’t seem so busy when you were focused on your task, and Bucky had been so kind he deserved a present. But this was a stupid present, stupid, stupid present. You ground your teeth and squeezed your hand together, allowing your nails to bite into your palm. 

Before you could take them back, Bucky unrolled them and held them up, a huge grin growing on his face. “They’re socks! They make socks of me.” He laughed, rubbing his thumb against the soft fluffy fabric. “And you said you like yours - you got my socks have you?” 

“I - no - I -” you stammered and Bucky looked at you properly, a flush of embarrassment appearing on his own cheeks. 

“I’m messing with you ya doll, I love them, thanks.” 

Bucky’s heart

had soared, you’d bought him a present. Something you liked too and you’d thought about him when you weren’t together. He couldn’t deny how addictive your presence had become, the mixture of calm and joy. If you brought him a present surely that meant you liked him too? 

He’d have to talk to Steve later, he seemed to know more about you and where you’d come from.

The rest of the journey went by quickly, you talked about a new show you were watching, a book you finished and how terrible most of the agent’s handwriting was when you were trying to decipher their field notes, not to mention the way they ticked boxes wrong and put things in the wrong files.

He discovered it was you who’d streamlined the paperwork, automated some of the questions and changed the paperwork so it matched across teams. He was somewhat in awe of your ability to see efficiencies as if they were tangible, organising his own Avengers issue tablet to minimise the emails he received and sorting the rest into neat little folders in his inbox, all in the last twenty minutes of the mission.

Too soon the agents themselves were piling into the back of the jet, tired but excited, chattering away. Even Steve was still in a good mood, bouncing into the cockpit, his Captain America smile plastered on but his suit unzipped enough to show his flush chest and the grime of the mission on his neck. 

“Hey Buck, let’s get - oh, hello Agent.” He came up short, as if he hadn’t seen you at all. 

“Hi, Mr Rogers, Sir, Captain?” You fumbled. 

Bucky winced, you hadn’t really met Steve yet, he should’ve introduced you both properly instead of letting you struggle. 

“Steve is fine, Agent, you stay there if you want,” the Captain America smile morphed into his real, Steve, smile, and you looked surprised. He winked and turned to leave the cockpit again.

Before Steve had even shut the cockpit door you could feel the awkward lump of confusion move from sitting in your through with your unuttered words down into the pit of your stomach. Should you have given Steve his seat back? He seemed so insistent that you stay but maybe he was being polite and there was some etiquette rule that you weren’t away of at play.

You looked out at the gathering clouds in the distance and fixed your eyes on one cloud in particular, honing in on the shades of grey that built each bump and groove. 

“Are you alright? You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to?” Bucky whispered from the seat to your right, the dark metal fingers of his hand lingered on your arm rest, so close you could feel his presence without him touching you. 

No.

No you were not alright.

It had been too long since you were in your own space, the jet was so loud and the din of the other agents so overwhelming that you thought you might be drowning in noise. You were confused about Steve’s behaviour, he was a superior, yes, but just a man and you didn’t think you needed to bow and scrape to him. But maybe you did?

“You’ve gone again, Doll. I need to know you’re okay.” His hand touched your elbow for just a second and then withdrew.

Oh, shit, you had, you were gone, everything felt weird and heavy and fuzzy, your eyes had drifted back to the clouds, body still, apart from the heaving of your chest as your breaths became more panicked. 

“I - yeah - I’m fine.” You grit your teeth into a false, pained smile and dug your nails into the arms of your chair. “I shouldn’t be here though, I should go back. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I’ll get Steve.” Before Bucky could stop you, you’d jumped up and rushed through the door leaving Bucky confused and alone in the cockpit. 

[hyohaehyuk]

I think a lot of people are not understanding one thing about this show: Louis have an eating disorder caused by his rejections of being a vampire and a queer man. Eating animals and rejecting eating humans is not a normal diet for vampires and is not the same as veganism/vegetarianism like i have seen some keep saying. In the AR' vampire universe is not just the blood but also the hunt and the memories they get from the victims that get them healthy. Even the way Louis eats in present days is weird af (even tho is consumes more human blood provided by his unethically farm) bc he is forcing himself to eat human food too (the whole thing is weird af. watch it again now with the image of him having a eating disorder in mind and you will see what i am saying)

Everything Lestat was doing (especially between ep 2/3) was trying to make Louis eat properly but all his desperate attempts was just pushing Louis away. The reason he brought Antoinette to their house was to recreate their 1st time with Miss Lily (bc if it worked 1 time surely it work another🤦). I think he was hoping that Louis would feed out of Antoinette and maybe even kill her. Same reason (besides the pride and bad communication) of why he opened their relationship. He was hoping that while he was hooking-up with someone he would feed from it but instead Louis chose someone who it had story (maybe to piss Lestat. I think this will be revised in season 3 bc i remember seeing on twitter that Lestat was next to Antoinette but once he he sees Louis talking with Jonah he is in another place far from her). He was already mad that Louis eating disorder was taking a tool on their relationship (which is why he start cheating 💀) but suddenly Louis was in the mood for some sex with someone else and on top of it Lestat also had to watch him hurting dogs (which maybe we will see in season 3 that human lestat loves dogs) instead of feeding on his hook-up human being.

The saddest thing is that there is nothing Lestat could have done to help (if you watched the last season of heartstopper Nick was dealing with a similar situation with Charlie and everyone's attempting to help him was actually making it worse). Things would only start getting better if the person admit to themselves and others they have a problem and seek for professional help which unfortunately for Louis was a thing that didn't exist at the time. Thankfully Louis at the end of season 2 finally accepted himself so on season 3 we will see a completely new Louis and i don't think Lestat will be ready for that Louis 🤭. Tho I hope Louis is not automatically cured in season 3. I think he will still mess it up occasionally until he gets cured for real.

Anyway, i hope they revise this (and a few other things) in season 3 bc it seems that a lot of people still dont get it. There is a chance of them doing that bc depressed Lestat was also feeding out of rats just like Louis was and maybe they could touch on this when doing connections with Nicky depression. i think we will see a lot of connections related how Lestat dealt with Louis and Claudia bc of his relationship with Nicky and his family, particularly his mother. Since Daniel works like the public voice maybe he will be the one doing those connections especially now that Daniel is a vampire and knows more about how it works.

i do think loustat in the show are monogamous, however given the nature of the vampirism they still have to seduce their victims to feed so i can see them hooking up with the victims before killing them but that dont make them non-monogamous in my eyes bc that would involve them actually having feelings for others.

And no, i dont think Louis was in love with Armand (he was attracted at most. i will not go much in depth into their relationship bc i don't want loum*nd shippers annoying the shit out of me. the only thing i am gonna say is that their relationship was all about Lestat: it started bc of him, continued after Paris bc of him and ended bc of him) and Lestat with Antoinette (she was more like his therapist so he could vent about Louis and Claudia. if he had love her he would have told her she could had attached any human' finger to hers after he made her cut her finger. He only keep her 1st bc she was giving him the devotion Louis was refusing to, 2nd bc it still made Louis' jealous which casually he would show it and then bc he needed her to spy on Louis and Claudia. if you guys noticed Louis was quite undecided in going forward Claudia plan of killing Lestat, until he brought Antoinette. It was then (especially when petty Lestat call her "love") when he made up his mind. That was Lestat worst mistake that night bc he knew about their plan and was trying to make Louis not going through it but then does that 🤦)

louis and lestat wouldn’t even hesitate to walk out into the sun if the other ceased to exist and people think they would ever consider polyamory. it’s just not realistic. they invented monogamy and the soul being irrevocably tied to one other soul for eternity and beyond

[anonymous1233211]

Recycled from Muscle world's stories

Thanks to @transformee for this great idea! This one's for you man.

Adam was a very successful businessman. Graduating top of his class and able to open his own business, he's been known to be a clever man. As an employer to over 30 employees, he was always busy. He decided to hire a new assistant that would help him with his day to day activities.

He was going through the applicants that had submitted their resumes and looked at one in particular. The mans name was Arnold, and he seemed to have little experience in business but made the decision to select Arnold as his new assistant.

Adam met Arnold the next day and put him straight to work. The day had passed and Adam was exhausted. He sat in his office working on some emails when he called Arnold in. Arnold came in and Adam asked him a personal question, if he could look into finding him a protein shake. Adam was thinking of working out since his ex wife always told him to get off his lazy ass and go to the gym, since he apparently had a weight problem.

Arnold said he would look and give him one tomorrow morning. Adam thanked Arnold and let him go home for the day. The next day Adam and Arnold went into his office and Arnold took the shake out. Arnold said he found the recipe online and said that Adam would like it. Adam took a sip of the drink. The drink was cool and flavorful, it tasted like vanilla and chocolate at the same time. Adam smiled and thanked Arnold for the shake and sent him to work. As the day progressed, Adam drank the shake and finished it at the end of the day. Before he left he told Arnold to make a bunch of those shakes, and he would get a bonus to his paycheck the next paying period.

Adam went home and looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn't middle aged but his body looked like it. A round gut shaped his dress shirt and his face looked tired. Adam took off his shirt and headed to bed.

The next morning Adam got up feeling suprisingly energetic. It was Saturday and he got a text from Arnold that he dropped off the shakes and left them at the front of his house. Adam got up and went to the door, but as he passed his mirror, he noticed that his gut looked like it had shrunk a little. His gut didn't look like it was hanging down as much. Adam smiled, seeing that these shakes seemed to be doing something. He went to his door and picked up a box that was filled with bottles of this shake that Arnold had made.

Adam texted Arnold thank you and added a heart emoji. Adam wasn't gay but he appreciated how Arnold went out of his way to drive by and drop off the shakes. Adam went to his gym and began to work out. He went to the weights and something in him was telling him to try the heavier weights. He looked at the 25lb dumbbells and picked them up. He struggled at first but felt like it got easier to lift as he went on. Adam finished his last rep and checked his phone, 2 hours had passed! Adam looked down and saw a giant stain of sweat on his shirt. He headed to the lockers and took a hot shower. As he was showering, he saw a fellow gym user on the opposite side, who was butt naked taking his shower. Adam tried not to look at the man but there was something about seeing the man aroused him. This was not right, Adam thought, he wasn't gay. Right? Adam quickly finished his shower and drove straight back home.

~1 week later~

Monday had come yet again and Adam went to work. Arnold met Adam at the entrance and they walked into the office together. Adam held his shake in one hand and his briefcase in the other. Arnold said good morning to Adam and they made some small talk. Arnold complimented Adam's physique, saying those shakes seem to be doing the trick. Adam thanked Arnold. Adam had suddenly started losing belly fat like crazy since he's been on the shakes and muscle had started to come out. He's gone through almost the entire box Arnold brought him last week.

Adam worked in his office for a while, seeing Arnold come in and out with him telling Arnold to do certain things for him. Adam watched Arnold do his work, noticing every small detail of his body. Arnold had a nice frame with beautiful brown hair. Adam felt a strain in his pants, he was getting hard. Adam frightened, quickly went to the bathroom and sat in the stall. He unzipped his pants to see that his dick had become fully erect. He tried to clear his head and stop thinking about Arnold but he couldn't. He stayed in the bathroom for a while to wait it out. When his erection subsided, he went back to work, feeling embarrassed about how long he had to wait.

~1 week later~

Time had passed and Adam was at the top of his game. He had lost a whopping 45 pounds of fat and he had a decent set of abs showing. He decided to celebrate his insane weight loss journey with a party at his house. He wanted it to be small so he invited only a few friends and family. He even invited Arnold, because without those shakes he wouldn't have been where he was. The party was a blast for Adam and his guests. They all took a toast to Adam and mingled a bit. Adam viewed his guests and saw that they were all having a great time, but as he looked around the room, he saw Arnold stare right at him. Adam locked eyes with his assistant and started feeling what he felt the week before. A sudden urge to go to him.

Adam walked to Arnold not breaking his gaze. Arnold took Adam to his bedroom, where they locked lips and began to make out. Adam picked Arnold up and was shocked at how strong he had really become. He made love with Arnold like he had never made love before. They ended up sleeping together the whole night. The next day Adam woke up and looked out the window. He smiled, knowing that what he did with Arnold was something he actually was missing in his tired life. Arnold came out of the bathroom and greeted Adam, saying "Good Morning Daddy". Adam smiled and flexed his arms, telling Arnold to get back in bed, he wasn't done with him yet.

[letteredlettered]

Hello there! I recently read your thoughts about By the Grace, in which you mentioned that you've never been happy with how it turned out. (I am one of the readers who love BtG, btw, I found it transformative in the sense that i loved it so much that I felt changed afterwards. my comments trace my slow disintegration 😅). I wondered if you'd be willing to share which fics of yours you like the best - which fics came out as you wanted them to, which fics make you feel understood and known? (Totally understand if this is too personal an ask btw but just thought I'd see if it's something you'd like to share).

Well, hi. You sent this ask in August of 2022. I am apparently very very behind on a lot of things. I just had a lot to say to you and didn't have the energy to say it. I'm currently dealing with some health issues so fandom is actually now one of the only things I have energy for, so here I am.

The first thing I want to say is how glad I am that you liked By the Grace. It's hard not to love something I've written, but I think it shows so much about our humanity that something I find so deeply imperfect could be something that really worked for you. Thank you so, so much for all your kind words.

The second thing I want to say is that for me, the fics I like best are the one that came out as I wanted them to, but they are not necessarily the ones that make me feel seen and known. For instance, I wrote By the Grace because I felt upset about the world, and I also felt upset about some things in fandom that felt like an ugly reflection of the world in a place where I didn't want to have to think about such things. The fact that people love BtG, in spite of its flaws, makes me feel that people understood what I was trying to say, no matter how imperfectly I said it; they care about its message and its values, even if I couldn't deliver those messages and values in the way I hoped and worked for.

Another example is The Way Down. The Way Down is one of the first Harry/Draco fics I ever wrote. I started writing it in 2007, and I was in a very difficult place at the time. It was two years after I finished college; I still wasn't doing anything with my life; I felt like a failure. I started to want to stay inside, never leave the house, never see anyone I knew, never do anything but talk to people on the internet all day long. Incidentally I felt very lonely and left out of the fandom I wanted to be a part of, which was H/D. No one was interested in my writing and I couldn't make friends in that community. I couldn't finish the fic. I got myself out of that situation, moved across the country, got a job, made new friends, and also stopped caring as much about whether my fic was popular. I was able to finish the fic because I as a person changed, and that fic reflects both parts of that journey. I don't actually think it's a good fic; some of the characterizations are too fanon for my taste; some of the scenes are a bit too silly; a lot of the deeper parts don't go deep enough. But when someone loves that fic, when it really touches someone, it's like they're loving me as I was then, loving the fact that I got myself out of it, loving a person who can struggle in that way. And that means so much to me.

Meanwhile, Away Childish Things is a perfect fic to me. It came out exactly as I wanted and said so much about both Harry and Draco that I had been wanting to say, that I felt I hadn't been seeing in fic. I knew it was good when I was writing it. Frankly, I thought people would like it, and I was right. I'm not sure that people loving it makes me feel seen and understood. It's not like ACT isn't a personal story for me--it's terribly personal! But I don't think it's saying things that make me feel bad about myself, or that I think other people or the world are struggling with. It's a sharp story that I think many people can identify with from different directions.

In terms of fics that turned out exactly as I hoped, The Eighth Tale is another such fic. It always makes the list because I had this idea for so, so long--a fic in which the war didn't go as it was "supposed" to, but instead drags on and on and on, a fic in which the canonical ending is glimpsed, but other endings are glimpsed too, a fic in which universes collide into the idea that the ending is never set, it's always the choices we make that give us our own endings. But whenever I imagined such a fic it was half a million words long, and while such a fic sounds interesting, I am so glad that @tacktigerfic would come along so many years later to write that grand epic. Meanwhile, what I had in mind was just a little paradox timey-wimey business that should take only 15-20K to get out into the world. I just didn't know how to do it. But finally, I read a fic that really inspired me with its voice (in a completely different fandom; it's Crow on the Cradle by Refur in SPN fandom if anyone is interested) and it helped me to understand I would need a very particular narrative voice to make this fic happen. Then I sat down and wrote it in about two or three sittings. It's exactly what I meant to do.

Ginny Weasley: Dragon Slayer is a similar fic in that it did exactly what I wanted to, and I wasn't sure I would get there. I think both of these fics are things I often think of as perfect because I have a habit of having rather small ideas that quickly turn huge and unwieldy. It's why BtG is a problem, imo. I love that I was able to make these fics concisely what I wanted them to be, no more, no less.

There are fics in other fandoms that are exactly what I want them to be: Sincerely Your Pal, in Captain America fandom, Say More in The Untamed (CQL) fandom. The End Resting Only on Air is the perfect end to my series of fics in The Walking Dead fandom. I still think Or Even Rearrange You has the best Tony Stark voice I've read, and that's cool because I wrote it. The Chuck Writes Story for SPN fandom is one of the cleverest and most incisive things I've written, because it's about SPN fandom more than SPN--and I happened to write it before SPN even had the mythos that it does now. But in terms of fics that make me feel seen/understood and I'm perfectly happy with how they are written, Responsible Science in MCU is always my answer to which fic I've written is my favorite fic for a reason (although it's actually a series). That Lesson Alone in Schitt's Creek fandom is probably one of the most personal things I have ever written, and I wouldn't change a word of it.

But in H/D fandom, if you want a fic of mine that I'm happy with, that came out exactly as I envisioned, and makes me feel seen and understood, only one fits the bill: The Pure and Simple Truth. I actually don't think the writing is perfect--I would tighten it up a little, maybe. But it's exactly what I wanted to write, and it was so fun to write; I still think it's fun to read. But on top of that, this fic is also trying to say something about morality that I think is really fundamental to who I am. It's trying to say things about friendship and forgiveness that I believe with my whole soul. It's trying to say things about conversation, what that means for people, what that can build, what community is and what it isn't. I've gotten a few comments over the years from people saying they didn't really understand it. I've also gotten a lot of comments yelling at me about it because there isn't a kiss at the end. I've also seen people saying that the fic is suggesting that Neville's a bad person because he struggles to forgive folks who tortured him, which is the exact opposite of what the fic is about.

But when people do get this fic, when they comment or message me to tell me what it means to them to see folks who have hurt each other, some of whom have been actual torturers and part of hate groups, come together and grow from that, discuss that, and learn to love in spite all of that...wow, that makes me feel like the things I care about aren't just mine; other people feel that way, which is a wonderful feeling.

[kizzfolio]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

인탁 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfem!reader, skinship, use of petnames and y/n, fluff ‹𝟹 proofread !! 1469wc

─────── your boyfriend tries to surprise you on valentine's day, but things don't go as he expects. ᰔ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤlikes and reblogs are appreciated <3

intak knew instantly from the smell of burnt cookies that he had messed up, he felt like this was the worst day ever. his frustration choked his words as he stared at the complete disaster in front of him, the once golden and wonderful smelling cookies had become circles of burnt dough.

he could feel the tears forming in his eyes and his heart felt like it was clenching in his chest. he had been planning this day for the entire month — you were going to visit him at his house to spend your first valentine's day as a couple. intak had planned to bake some cookies from scratch for you instead of buying them from the bakery, just to make it extra special for you, but he had ruined it with his lack of baking skills.

“how am i supposed to surprise y/n now?” he whined, staring at the cookies in the oven.

he turned off the oven and took out the overcooked cookies, placing them gently on the counter. intak let out a heavy sigh, feeling completely disheartened as he looked at the ruined batch of cookies. it just wasn’t fair. he had worked so hard to make everything perfect for you. he had even bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers to deliver as soon as you arrived.

he glanced at the clock, seeing that you would be arriving in less than an hour. he felt a wave of despair wash over him, knowing that the surprise he had meticulously planned was doomed to failure. to make matters worse, he didn’t have time to go out and buy more cookies. he mentally cursed himself for not thinking of a plan b. he had been so confident in his baking skills — well, lack thereof — that he hadn’t even considered that things could go wrong.

he took a deep breath and tried to think of what else he could do, anything that could make the gesture seem even slightly salvageable. but no matter how much he tried to think positively, he knew that nothing could change the fact that the cookies were a total disaster; he couldn’t bear the thought of ruining the day you were so excited about. feeling completely dejected after his impending failure, intak slumped against the counter and buried his face in his hands. he had imagined this moment in his head for days — seeing your smile and hearing your praise for the treats he had made for you. but now it was all a distant dream, crushed by his own ineptitude. the evidence of his failure was right there, sitting on the kitchen counter, mocking him with its burnt, unappetizing appearance.

the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, announcing the imminent arrival of a visitor, leaving intak stunned to think that you had arrived, your mannerisms were nothing new to him, who knew you well enough to know that you would not be too late for such an important appointment, you wanted to enjoy every second you could with intak on this day.

he frantically looks around for a solution. he can’t let you see the burnt cookies, he simply can’t handle your look of disappointment. he considers hiding the cookies or throwing them all in the trash, pretending everything is fine. but it’s impossible, the charred smell of the treat permeates the air, making it painfully obvious what happened.

he takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself, before walking to the door to open it. he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat when he finds you on the other side of the door, looking so radiant and he even forgets about the cookies for a few seconds, your smile and the way your eyes light up when you see him are like a knife in the chest and the only thing he can croak out is a “hello” and he can't help but feel like he’s about to crush your excitement.

“hey,” you greeted, smiling brightly when you saw intak, wearing an apron and with his cheek stained with dough, revealing what he was doing before he could even speak, you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek, intak can’t help but lean into your warm embrace, feeling a wave of comfort invade him. he hesitates for a moment, his usual behavior doesn’t seem to be present today and you pull away staring at him for a moment. “have you been crying?”

“i’m fine,” he tries to reassure her, even though he’s panicking internally. he knows he can’t hide the burning smell coming from the kitchen, but he doesn’t want to see the disappointment on her face. he tries to feign confusion at her question about crying, trying to act casual. “what- i, crying? no... i just, uh, i had a speck in my eye.”

you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes at intak’s mediocre explanation, his behavior didn’t convince you either, you could see through his lie that something was wrong.

“what happened, baby?” you insist on asking, and intak squirms under your intense gaze and he feels cornered.

“well... i, uh, i’ve been trying to surprise you with a little something for valentine’s day,” he confesses, his voice hesitant, “but, uh... it didn’t go as planned.”

he can’t look you in the eye, feeling ashamed of his failure. he just knows that you’re going to be very disappointed.

“oh, did you make something for me?” you asked sweetly, holding his face between your hands to make him look back at you. intak’s eyes widened when he heard nothing but sweet words coming out of your lips, it was like you hadn't even heard him.

“yeah...i was trying to bake you some cookies. but i...uh…” he trails off, gesturing towards the kitchen. you look towards the kitchen. the burnt cookies are sitting on the counter, their blackened form the evidence intak’s failed baking attempt.

you release his cheeks and take a few steps into the kitchen, curiously approaching the cookies, unable to help but let out a soft laugh, seeing their dark and unappetizing appearance. you reach over to the counter, taking a cookie in your hands. it’s still warm and the burnt smell of melted chocolate fills your nose. you study the cookie carefully, examining its unappetizing appearance, before letting out another soft laugh.

intak watches in despair as you move towards the cookies. he braces himself for your reaction, expecting disappointment. instead, he is shocked to hear you laugh. he can’t help but feel a twinge of surprise at your response.

“you’re not... mad?” he asks shyly, following you closely like a wounded puppy.

“how could i? you tried your best,” she says with a reassuring smile, looking at intak. she can see how guilty he looks. “you tried to make something special for me, even if you burned them.”

intak’s heart swells with gratitude as he listens to your kind words. the guilt he felt slowly begins to dissipate, replaced by a sense of warmth and affection.

“really?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. he steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as he gazes into your eyes. “you’re not disappointed? not even a little bit?”

“i’m not disappointed,” you reassure him, hugging him reassuringly. even though he failed in his attempt to make something special, it was important how much he tried to make this day perfect. “it’s okay to make mistakes, it was your first attempt and we can always try together.”

intak melts into your embrace, feeling your warmth and love. he buries his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. your words are like a soothing balm to his bruised ego.

he pulls away slightly, still holding you in his arms. “i just... i wanted everything to be perfect for you,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice muffled. “i wanted everything to be perfect for our first valentine's day together. i just feel like i failed you.”

“don’t let burnt cookies ruin our day,” you say, cupping his cheek. despite your words, intak still worries that you'll see him with disappointment, but your eyes are filled with love and affection. “if you want, we can try again, make new cookies and this time we’ll try not to burn them.”

intak can’t help but smile at your optimism. your words wash away the remaining traces of guilt and anxiety in his heart. he looks back at the counter, where the burnt cookies still sit.

“i promise i won’t let you down this time,” he says firmly. “we’ll make the best cookies you’ve ever tasted.” he leans in to leave a peck on your lips before you both start working on the cookies.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@kizzfolio

[technicallybeautifulfest]

Oh hello SOMEONE WANTS TO GET TO KNOW ME I'm putting this in my diary 🫶🏼

Thank you @bitching-and-witching for tagging me🥰

🎧Last Song🎧: idk honestly, my fiance and I have Playlists together for different moods (smoking, ear worms, working out, etc) so it may have been Fall Out Boy or LP or Coheed and Cambria....this morning though inhave doechii stuck in my head(:

🎨Favorite Color🎨: this changes all the time!! Right now I'm obsessed with purple, pink, and green. I do have a favorite color combination though and it's peach and grey

Like how stinking pretty is that? I also love pink and white together.

📚Last Book📚: i just picked reading back up so I haven't finished anything in a while but the last one I did finish was Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult. It is about a school shooting and was written in a time when a school shooting in America was a national tragedy and not another Tuesday. I have started other books more recently but have yet to finish. The most recent book I opened is actually a self help book to help me control my mean girl inner dialog.

🍿Last Movie🍿: does Dead Meats Kill Count count? If not, it was a studio ghibli. I can't remember which one though, I think Spirited Away.

📺Last TV Show📺: Bridgerton! I literally finally started it yesterday and I am already so into it. I love love LOVE drama TV shows. I hadn't watched this one until now though because I usually don't like period pieces like this but I've been hearing only good things about the show since it came out. I'm only a few episodes in so far but I can and will binge watch like crazy so we'll see how long before o finish it lol

🍔sweet/spicy/savory🍔: spicy. I know i have been blessed with a weak stomach/GI system but so far I am (somehow) still able to eat spicy foods. I don't typically like sweets but I will have some times when a craving is too strong and I need a zebra cake. Savory is also OK but I will add hot sauce(:

🌀Current Obsession🌀: YouTube. 🙃 Dead Meat has become a staple in this house over the last few months. Also watch a ton of Memoria, Any Austin, Gabi Belle, and Game Grumps. Oh and Let's Game It Out for when I need a little chaos.

🔍Last Thing Searched🔍: how to spell Gabis name lmao

👀Looking Forward To 👀 : a job?! Lmao I have only worked about 6 months out of the last 2 years. I hate it and I hate being so broke. I know with everything going on politically in this world it doesn't matter but I miss having GOOD HAIR CONDITIONER?! And also the ability to put away for savings for a house but the conditioner too cause I will chop off my hair if it's too dry lol.

Uhm idk who i would like to know better lol I have yet to try to reach out anywhere and now I don't know how to end this wow awkward bye (actually going back to the previous post I follow some of those accounts and would also like to know them more)

// 10 People I'd like to know better //

I got tagged by @kbthebearcat and @captain-clandestiny THANK YOU GUYS

🎧Last song🎧: I am not sure to be honest 😭 i was listening a mixed playlist on shuffle but i last remember listening to return to forever and when i fall in love

🎨Favorite color🎨: THE ONE AS MY BLOG BACKGROUND i am obsessed 💔 AND A WARMER TONE OF MUSTARD YELLOW tbh all the natural colors really 🤭

📚last book📚: I am not much of a reader, but i read "Ağrı Dağı Efsanesi" as homework. (Browsed the recap but sshhh)

🍿Last movie🍿: Ugh i am so embarrassed but Sonic 3. MY FRIENDS FORCED ME OKAY?!. Like you can't expect someone who likes "The Game", "Silence of the lambs", "there will be blood", "Jane Eyre" etc to like such a movie- i am REALLY picky about what i watch. But yeah it was Sonic 3 I'm sorry 💀

📺 Last tv show 📺: It was "Baby Raindeer" i guess... It was alright.

🍔 sweet/spicy/savory 🍔: Savory 😌

🌀Current obsession🌀: ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED

Finished the ezio trilogy and now playing unity and black flag. Torturing myself by replaying missions (in unity) over and over until i perfectly ghost them. People hate that game for some reason but i like it a lot tbh

🔍 Last thing searched 🔍:

I was answering the ask then i called Hargrove "passed away recently". i was sure it was not as "recently" so i searched to find out. 2018 was the date. He was such a nice trumpeter. I found about him after coming up with Roy and now one of his songs i think is roy if he was a song. Here's the song for those wondering !

👀looking forward to👀: nothing specific. But i am curious about the gt of that upcoming fable game. Probably can't afford it and don't have the hardware to run it so I'll watch the gameplays 💀

People I'd like to know better:

@justagiantpotato @pipinpali @pacthesis @ohnobrooo @paxmorgana @guaxinimraccoon @olivexing @territorialrain

[avaredava]

Finding Nemo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fluff

Master list

⯌ Sum

Your boyfriend Choso can't find you at the super market :(

(he's never been to one)

⯌ Wc

614

Something short and cute <3

⯌ Warnings

Fluff, Pet names and some words like 'hot' and 'sexy' (nothing bad), like one swear word, Alcohol mentions, snuggles and some kisses <3 (MAN EYE LINER 🤤)

Since Choso used to work with Kenjaku and such, none of them really ate from the supermarket so they don't get caught. So they just grew stuff from gardens and had a small chicken coop. So ever since he met you after Shibuya he has some things to get used to.

A new thing you and Choso did was clubbing all night.

Got drunk.

And went home and just got knocked out. You both woke up hungover with a weight on you. Choso. "Ah- 'Cho your heavy-" You choke out. He hugs you tighter with a grunt. "Choso i'm hungry." You say with a tired voice. "Mmh..." he sighs. he rolls off of you. Kissing your nose, then all over your face but then you get up and he whines but stays put since he was tired.

You leave to go to the kitchen and open the fridge. Nothing. The both of you ate all the food last night in your drunken state. You really don't want to go to the store hungover. But, you are starving.

"Cho!" You yell across the house. "Get dressed! We're going to the store!" He's quite a good boyfriend and always listens to you. So he comes down the stairs looking hot as usual. His hair down and in his black sweater with some black joggers. Nothing special but goddamn.

He brings down an eye liner pencil down. "Baby can you do it on my water line?" He asks holding up the pencil. You sit on his lap and gently put it on the water line under his eyes.

After that you finally ask the question. "We are going to the store 'Cho there is no need to look sexy."

"Just for my pretty girl." He responds with a small smirk. "Thanks baby for the eye liner anyway."

Eventually you guys get up and walk away holding hands. He gets in the drivers seat with you in the passenger rubbing your thigh. You guys eventually get to the store.

His cheeks blushed as he begins to say something. "I've never... been in a grocery store." He looks away with a small huff. You try not to laugh, not because it's funny, but because it is so adorable...

"It's fine baby." You say.

You and Choso walk in holding hands. His eyes widen when he sees the high ceiling and food smells hitting his nose. Since he's a curse his senses were overwhelmed. He squeezed your hand and you squeezed back reassuring him its alright.

The both of you went into a snack isle. "Hold on stay here 'Cho i'm grabbing some meat, stay here and grab the chips you want." You leave and go to the poultry area and leave Choso alone.

Choso found some Ruffles and does a cute little smile. He leaves the isle and tries to find you.

You leave the poultry and go back to find him not there. Shit.

"Cho?!" You call and walk around the store. Some kid giving you a weird stare and you glare back. You walk into the bread isle to see him munching on a loaf of bread with tears in his eyes.

A small smile forms on your face when you see a grown man- your man being adorable. "Cho," You smile. "You have to pay first." He wipes his face and finishes the bread. "I thought I lost you..." He mumbles and holds you tight.

"No its okay baby, I'm right here." You kiss his nose.

You both went home and basically just watched movies and ate ice cream (and that bread he found out he liked).

Ps:

You never took him to the store again.

Tag list:

@bbuuggs-thought, @ravester , @suicidollz, @lzzzzzzig, @bighappypiels @boyimjustaloserforyourlove

[jealousmartini]

STUFF I CANT WAIT FOR IN MY MHA DR .𖥔˚🎀

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

⤷ a bit of FYI

Because I am shifting to my dr during the end of the 2nd school year, I will have already found vigilante Deku with the rest of class 1A, won the war arc against my own personal nemesis, and had my awesome quirk awakening. It's also 5 days before Bakugo's birthday in my dr AND it's the weekend (Friday) so I dont have to worry about patrolling or homework when i literally just got there! So it's free time!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

... Super stoked for!

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing my entire appearance!

Not even gonna lie to yall.. I am SO stupidly fine in all of my mha drs actually. But specifically talking about my main mha dr, I literally am so gorgeous. My body is so undoubtedly bomb, my face card is fire, my hair so tea.. no wonder so many people are down bad for me. I know for sure the first thing I'll do when I shift is stare at my reflection, tracing my curves and all.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Wearing my hero costume, using my quirks and my gadgets

My hero costume is so iconic. It's like a mecha space suit centered around a cunty corset with big ass chunky boots like uraraka, a pair of bug eye looking goggles and a mecha headset with antenna. The space theme is fitting for my for my quirk, and my Twilight sparkle ahh hair.

My magnetism quirk is so much fun dude. I can make anything attract, retract or rotate to or from me, and manipulate it to mimic telekinesis. Uraraka wannabe yeah yeah I know but it's unique enough for it to be it's own thing. Using it creatively is gonna be a blast too!

In my dr, I am a pro at creating gadgets, weapons, and upgrading preexisting gear. I work in both the hero and the support course so my class mates get the best of both worlds cus they've got a mini Tony stark in their class. I even got the spare keys to the utility support room.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Hanging out in my dorm room, the dormitory and my best friends rooms

I made slight tweaks to the design of the dormitory, the rooms are a bit bigger and it isn't just green and yellow ew. Also the class rooms in the UA building have big ass windows to the left, the tables can fit 2-3 students and the rooms aren't a cold blue hue anymore.

My room is perfectly customised to my personality, my likes, my needs and all that stuff. I've got my entire pinterest closet in my wardrobe, my makeup, my trinkets and my gadgets on my tables and shelves. The walls are decorated in anime, game and movie posters, drawings and sketches of my gadget plans and polaroid pictures of my family, friends and classmates. My room has a colour pallet of pinks, burgundys and cream with dimly lit off white and orange accent lights. It's very homly, very comforting.

I also have a mini fridge, a ceiling fan and a two screen computer in my room. Each floor has bathrooms and shower rooms of their own. I'm on the same level as Momo, Ochaco, Kirishima and Katsuki. My most visited rooms are Uraraka's, Mina's Katsuki's, Deku's and Kirishima's. I like to welcome myself and relax on their beds. Sometimes I bicker, most times I gossip with them and actually more than most times, they visit me more than I do them. I can't wait to casually hang out with them, go out to eat, go on trips with them, especially since I'm part of "Baku squad"

And btw he dormitory has robot maids and floor cleaners that do most of the cleaning around the building, including the washing in the kitchen.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| The FOOOOOOD

See we've got some bomb ass cooks in our class already, me being one of them ironically enough. But we are actually allowed to order takeaway to the dorms. The house rules are that you shouldn't order food past curfew but most of the time, Aizawa doesn't notice so I do it anyway.

There is also a shopping center close to campus and some convenience stores with my fave foods and stuff I've always wanted to try like tteokbokki, pho, seafood boil, ramen stew all that good stuff🫠🫠

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing my crushes: Katsuki, Uraraka, Sero and Kirishima

Lord. I can't even say too much because I love these idiots so much UGHHHHH. I've got casual crushes of Uraraka, Sero and Kirishima but good GOD I am down bad for Katsuki.

I've scripted that me and Spikes end up together in the middle of the 3rd year but it's initiated by... ME. Yeah that's right bitch I scripted I grew a pair of balls and asked him out😝. I know it's pretty basic for an mha shifter to have cactsuki as their s/o but yall don't get him the way I do and I seriously don't care. I stood on business and pulled that bitch like my quirk was on. Period

I will admit tho Katsuki intimidates so bad but like in a good way. I love an intimidating, scary but funny, brash, stern babe. Like come here and kiss me but also don't cus ill run away.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| THE FAN EDITS, FICTION, GIFTS AND ART

Yall already know as shifters how exciting fan stuff are. Not a day goes by when Im not daydraming about the edits especially. I can't wait to see what my fans are up to, react to their edits, fanfiction, gifts and art on live stream. I scripted my fans are super creative and most of them ship me with people I actually like🤭🤭

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Going patrolling with my bbygirls

I'm so excited to use my quirk in action especially when I've already had my quirk awakening. I scripted I can formulate and act out plans perfectly and quickly. I also scripted most patrols are fun, relaxing, exciting or interesting. I'm always learning something new, meeting new people, going new places and growing bonds with my team mates.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Streaming and being featured on popular streams

One of my hobbies is streaming/vlogging/blogging. I have been recording my experiences as a student in UA and a hero since the beginning and I've got a big following that catch up with me every now and then. I use two different cameras; a high quality one and an early 2000s digital hand cam to make it look like I'm in 2006. I do a lot of eat with mes, I gossip, I do study with mes I draw and anime a lot and I also do gaming as well because I am the biggest game geek.

I'm also pretty siked to appear on popular Streamer lives like kai cenat and Speed. The interviewers are going to be so entertaining since I'm just a British girl talking about my experiences as a British student in Japan and the amount of culture shocks ive gotten.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Seeing me in Horikoshi's art

Fun thing I scripted. Horikoshi made a manga of class 1A which is literally MHA but I'm in it this time. Idk how this is going to work but I thought this would be sick.

Speaking of art I am an artist in my dr too. I've got stacks apon stacks of notebooks filled with me and my friends, even my hw has little doodles in the corner. I'm very excited to draw my friends, myself, my favourite medias in my many art styles onto tiktok and tumblr and they actually get views😩.

ᨳ⊹ ˖ ࣪| Exploring Japan

And lastly exploring Japan has been one of my biggest dreams since forever. To explore the country with my favourite friends or just by myself in the day or night is a dream come true. The peaceful nature of it all motivates me to go walking every now and then. It is such a beautiful place.

[wannabanauthor]

My Night ADHD Brain wants to write a check that my Day ADHD Brain can't cash

So on my drive home from work, I was thinking about that coworkers with benefits outline post for BuckTommy from a few days ago, and I think I actually want to write it.

It would be so much fun to see how they go from meeting to fucking in the span of a week. Especially with Tommy still being closeted and Buck not even knowing he's into men.

You know the hate sex would be so much fun to write. Well, not hate, more like "you're annoying as fuck" Tommy vs "you're wound too tight" Buck.

But before I even start, I need to look up a fire station layount/blueprint because I do not want to use the same sex locations as those in Sick With It by Mellow Yellow. I just need to find more creative places for them to fuck, if it even happens in the fire station.

It could be in a bar parking lot, or in a car, or even in the locker room. I could see Buck jacking Tommy off in the locker room in a race against time for the other crew's shift. Hell, he'd probably join Tommy in the showers for a quick blowjob while Tommy is struggling to keep quiet. Maybe they almost get caught hooking up on shift, so Tommy refuses to put out at work, so they have to make more of an effort to keep their little fling going.

Oooh, even better: introducing Eddie as their platonic friend well into their affair, and they get even more jealous of each other because they both like being Eddie's friend but also suspect the other of being interested in Eddie, but neither of them are.

Maybe at Eddie's House Warming Party, they have a minor spat, and they manage to sneak off and talk it out, and maybe Hen or Chimney walks in on them kissing.

And since both of them are talented and creative, I see their sex life as very varied and fun. Tommy loves muffling Buck's moans so they don't get caught, and Buck loves the thrill of almost getting caught. Maybe things change for them when they start hooking up primarily in each others' residences, and feelings kind of grow from there because it's much more intimate. Maybe they avoid beds for the longest, but eventually give in after a tiring shift, and they accidentally fall asleep together in Tommy's bed.

Neither one of them wants to admit how nice it is to wake up in bed next to each other, so they kind of start self-sabotaging to avoid thinking about how fond of each other they're becoming.

But Tommy can't help but become nicer to Buck during work, and they're often seen smiling at each other, talking, lauging, etc. Some of the FireFam are perplexed on how they went from arguing to being friends.

So when they start having real feelings for each other, they both can't handle it, so they start bickering and one day they both just snap and have a full on fight yelling at each other in front of everyone.

I'm really trying my best not to accidentally plagiarize from Mellow Yellow, so maybe tomorrow I'll have a more cohesive and unique way to approach this possible fanfic.

If anyone else wants to write this, I'd be more than happy to read it on AO3. We are creative folk, so even if we all have the same prompt, we can still end up with different work.