#trying hard not to open the can of worms that has been ''writing outside your own experience'' discourse lately

[chlorine-tangerine]

Samba Da Volta (First Look)

I may not have a full fic for you this year, but I have part of a fic! That’s gotta be something. This is an excerpt from a story I’ve been writing called Samba da Volta (Samba of Return). Even though this isn’t the full thing, I still wanted to share it with the fandom and get some initial reactions.

This story takes place in an alternate universe where Suzuki and Sugiki were in love in high school, but separated when Sugiki moved for university. Sugiki has now returned to his hometown for the summer and meets Suzuki again. You don't need much context other than that, so I hope you enjoy!

It is also available on AO3, but if you don't want to open the link, the text will be under the cut.

Happy 10 Dance Day!

(Excerpt from Samda Da Volta, chapter 2 - Samba E Amor (Samba and Love)

-

Back in the present, the scenes of Sugiki’s high school days were replayed as he browsed through the aisles of the convenience store. The location and layout were the same, even down to the benches and tables outside, just that the store changed names. Of course, Sugiki didn’t expect there to be no change over almost a decade, but it was a peculiar feeling to come back to something that no longer existed in its original state. The same went for Suzuki-kun; he still hadn’t figured out how to face this man whom he knew so much yet so little about at the same time. They severed their bond many years ago, but never completely. They never had a big dramatic breakup like other high school sweethearts. He’s certainly gotten more handsome as he aged… thought Sugiki, then shook his head to avoid that line of thinking. It was late, past 11 PM, and his mind was not to be trusted with emotional thinking at late hours. He sighed, and placed his small basket of snacks onto the checkout counter. Just as he was taking out his credit card, a hand got in the way.

“I’ll pay for him, Auntie. Ring these up for me too, won't you?” A cheerful voice to Sugiki’s right chimed in, dropping half a dozen pack of beer right next to Sugiki’s basket. The cashier’s eyes brightened at the sight of him.

“Shinya! Haven’t seen you in a while, how are your sisters?” She said as she rang up the six-pack. “They’re good, noisy as ever. I heard your leg is all better now. Good for you!” That topic opened up a can of worms, and the middle-aged woman started a long story of her leg injury. Half-listening, Suzuki turned to the dark-haired man and gave him an innocent look with raised eyebrows and a half-smile, “Hey,” he said quietly.

Sugiki was not amused or charmed, evident by his sideward glance and thin mouth. The man in question wouldn’t know, but running into him right after thinking about his attractiveness was a little embarrassing for Sugiki, even at his age. “I’ll pay for myself, thank you very much.”

“Come on, have a drink with me. I can’t finish this all by myself.”

“Then you shouldn't have bought that much.” For a moment, it was as if they were picking up right where they left off the other night, teasing each other with no real meaning to it. Sugiki answered his own question from earlier; maybe this is how he should treat Suzuki-kun, try to be friends again, especially when he made it so easy. He stepped aside and allowed the blond man to pay, then went outside with the snacks and beverages as Suzuki finished up his conversation with the cashier.

Suzuki followed the dark-haired man with his eyes, then quickly came back to the cashier to bid her goodnight. As he stepped out into the humid air and pulled up a stool opposite Sugiki, he wondered: does he still remember this place? They met up here countless times after school, took turns treating each other to snacks, he had to remember. But a lot had happened over time, Suzuki only remembered because this place was so hard to avoid. Sugiki, quietly eating his cookies, sat facing the bench behind the store. He stared mindlessly at it, the memory of their first kiss so far away yet so close by. In fact, that memory was sitting less than half a meter away from him. When he turned to look at Suzuki, he was surprised to find him staring back.

“... Nothing. You have quite a sweet tooth,” the man gestured to the wafers and cookies (most of them chocolate-flavored) on the table and smoothly reached over for a can of beer. Sugiki got defensive about his choice of late-night snacks, “I was in the mood for it,” he said with a slight pout. Suzuki found it cute but thought it best to not tell him.

“What?”

He tried picking up the conversation and asked about the trip to the hospital. It was quite disheartening to get a one-sentence response, and soon they found themselves listening to the cicadas again. That topic ended pretty quickly, thought Suzuki as he ate some more of the snacks to keep himself looking busy. What were they supposed to talk about now? Their meeting last time ended awkwardly, and there was only so much to catch up on. Maybe it was a mistake to ask Sugiki to stay. Maybe he was still the self-confident teenager, scrambling to come up with words in front of Sugiki.

Out of nowhere, the dark-haired man spoke, “Hey, can I ask you something?” Suzuki shifted his body so that he was facing the table now. “Hm?”

“I don’t know if you remember, but I was being really petty to you the other day you came for dinner.”

“Oh, I don’t even remember that, you’re good.”

Sugiki shrugged, “Still, that wasn’t nice. But I mean it; it’s good to know she has someone… She always looked lonely to me.” After a few days of rumination, he realized that his mother was not a social person. While he had Suzuki to rely on after his father’s passing, he couldn’t recall who Sayaka turned to. All of a sudden, he sympathized with that loneliness, even if she had turned him away back then.

“You too,” Suzuki blurted out, catching him off guard. Sugiki rushed to defend himself, “Me? No, that’s only because I’m here. I’m not like this with friends.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know. It’s not like you have any other friends here.”

“How would you know? Maybe I do,” teased Sugiki, rejecting the label put on him. Suzuki took the retort at face value. Did he have other friends here? The ones he could think of had all moved out of town, as far as he knew. “Do you?” he shot Sugiki a doubting look. A playful smile crept onto his face, “...no,” leaving the two laughing quietly.

Suzuki stood up to tidy the table, “Well, if you’re not gonna be doing anything while you’re here, we might as well hang out more. Get dinner sometime.”

“I don’t know… I still have to work on my research even if I’m out of town.” The blond man scoffed at the answer and turned around. Sugiki’s bookishness never once stopped being annoying. “That can’t take up all your time.” Before Sugiki could come up with a witty comeback, he continued, “Stop being a nerd. I'm free after I get off Friday afternoon. Come to my house, I'll cook you something.”

Sugiki got up, eyes level with the other man; Suzuki’s lopsided smile took him back to a simpler time. It would be dishonest to refuse after all the persuasion.

“Alright, fine. Friday. You can text me your address later.” The two parted ways back to their homes. Sugiki hummed as he walked now that there was something to look forward to.

[odinspattern]

I have this small project on the side, and though it is mostly just short, interconnected vignettes that no one is ever going to see, things I have written while being bored at work or having a moment on commutes...

I am still struggling to depict the relationship between two of the characters, because I of course made it hard on myself, by making one aromantic and trying to depict, even to myself, how a queerplatonic relationship can look like.

When like. I honestly have seen so few of these depicted that one. I have next to nothing to lean on. And two... they would never be together, such as they are, in normal circumstances.

Kim Roger, the half-vampire possesses what they in universe call the healing gift. He can manipulate blood and make skin cells regenerate, speed up the recovery process. This skill has made him useful, but ultimately made him a target, he is now unwillingly serving a mercenary company that kidnapped him. He struggles with retaining identity in a situation where he is used as a tool.

Jon Arne is the child of one of the members of said mercenary members, and is by proxy forced in. He and his two other friends who are in a similar situation are thick as thieves. He was pretty into the whole deal, but is getting disillusioned fast.

It is actually a culmination of a lot of things with him. It is a shock seeing Kim Roger, a guy he knew from middle school as the guy he was, during a semester, competing with, on the grounds that they sat next to each other, and Kim Roger was always a little faster in gym. And now he is there as well. Living openly as half-vampire. Maintaining a personality. It makes Jon Arne question and opens up a can of worms. Not only because he is growing up and seeing how he has been groomed into the role, and that the bonds he has with his friends are based on the abuse they face, abuse he was in denial about. But because by seeing Kim Roger rebel, being punished for it and yet maintain himself, it opens up ideas Jon Arne never has had about himself.

When they eventually start a relationship, it is at first, just about having sex and expressing individuality. Jon Arne is experiencing it through getting to have a personality outside of his own group, which is exciting and terrifying. Kim Roger explains that he is not capable of loving anyone, especially not now. For him it is about having a choice and fulfilling needs. Plus, it is fun to be fucking the son of one of the guys that are keeping you against your will.

Later, after a especially brutal session where Kim Roger is punished severely for losing control in a sparring match, they do talk. Not only about their relationship, but about what they are getting out of it. It never becomes a traditional relationship. It is about freedom to be themselves, whatever that means. Sometimes it does look like having a safe harbor to crack under the huge pressure they are both under. Sometimes it looks like sex. They are never romantically involved, at least it is never meant to be romantic.

Like I know it does not matter how it looks like on the outside, because these things are never to be published, it is a project I have on the side, for fun. Told in episodic tales that are often a response to each other. It is just that I am in uncharted waters, trying to figure out how to write this relationship, where they are more than friends, but not together in the usual sense. It isn't just about sex, they are not soul mates, and they do care for each other. Complicated by one being aromantic while the other is allo, one is human, one is part vampire. It is about maintaining your humanity... explored through a kind of relationship that is often outright dismissed, and an identity that is often swept under the rug.

[dalchiid]

Chapter 39!! My thoughts are all over the place with this one so I apologize in advance.

“You're welcome to join us, Y/N. You've already gotten in the way of my time with my brothers. You're free to do so again tonight." First of all, this made me laugh. Biting as always. Jungkook is so sassy when he wants to be. He’s so respectfully rude, but I can’t help but love his honesty.

To truly start off, it’s been a while since we’ve had dialogue from Seokjin that didn’t involve him breaking up fights. Ironic enough, as much as he loves gossip he sure knows how to simmer people down. Speaking of simmer, I love the advice Hoseok gave to Taehyung about not allowing things to boil over. The idea of thinking before we act can and should be applied to all areas of life. I also love that Taehyung and y/n and growing closer. Him opening up about his feelings? Going as far as to defend her from Jimin? He’s clearly taken a liking to her and hopefully y/n doesn’t do anything to mess up whatever bond they’re building. Well, technically she already has, but let’s hope Taehyung doesn’t find that out. I can already imagine just how betrayed he’ll feel and I’d hate for y/n to be on the receiving end of all that aggression.

Also, here I was thinking it would be Jimin’s vindictiveness that would eventually creep up on y/n. But I should’ve known better. Back at the Baek’s it was only Seokjin who seemed to know that y/n and Hoseok had been “sneaking” around. So of course him of all people would know the very in-and-outs of everything that’s going on under his own roof. In hindsight y/n should’ve listened to her guts. Just as I suspected, it’s not just the other brothers she should be worried about, but also the servants on their payroll. On her way to Namjoon’s room she saw the servants and the servants saw her. It’s natural that they’d gossip and for said gossip to reach the ears of the one who loves it most. Additional ears and eyes aside, Seokjin’s ability to prod others is spot on: stick with leading questions and if you press hard enough they’ll eventually tell on themselves.

“Spying on me” yea that was surely a can of worms that should’ve stayed shut. If anything Y/n should’ve worded her concerns better. As the saying goes <you wouldn’t be so defensive if you had nothing to hide> right? That little confrontation with Hoseok (had it taken place) probably would’ve made Seokjin even more curious. Not that he isn’t already curious since y/n’s answers to his questions did nothing but provide him with more questions. But perhaps like Jimin, y/n would’ve found herself on Seokjin’s dislike list had Hoseok told him to back off. So, sure she’s managed to keep him at bay for now, but her next moves (specifically whatever she decides to do with Namjoon) will decide whether this whole thing blows up in her face.

I wonder if Hoseok will connect y/n being in Namjoon’s room with the same day she lied about spending time outside. Regardless, at this point she’s really playing him like a fool. Although I’m equally upset at Namjoon as I am at y/n. It takes two to tango so they’re both on the hook. I can understand y/n being vulnerable in such a new enviornment, but Namjoon is smart and has lived with Hoseok for eons, so he truly knows his brother best. The fact that Namjoon is willing to take risk after risk by putting y/n in the crossfires is what makes think he doesn’t care about her as much as he leads on. She feels more like a necessary casualty, yet another piece in the grand scheme of his plans. I’m just curious as to what exactly those plans are and exactly how far he’s willing to go to achieve them.

Finally, the sex scenes between y/n and Hoseok sure have a way of being deeply intimate (and steamy but that’s all thanks to your writing). From the very beginning it’s felt that way and I think it’s because of how intense Hoseok always is. To put it simply he fucks like he’s trying to merge their souls together. Considering y/n only reciprocates when she’s high it’s yet another symbolism of the huge power imbalance in their relationship. The fact that Hoseok is always willing to give so much of himself while expecting the same from y/n in return. With that said let’s hope movie night goes smoothly. It’s been a while since we’ve had everyone in one scene, so I’m looking forward to it, unless there’s a time skip. Hopefully y/n’s cold resolves quickly. The logical part of me is like well of course she got sick she was out in the rain all day, but I’m also getting a sense of foreshadowing so who knows. Perhaps it’s more than a cold…. Thank you for another great chapter!

— cloudy anon ☁️

Jungkook is fun to write. He has no filter and has 0 clue as to why he gets reprimanded for it.

I don't know if anyone had Taehyung and Y/N bonding on their bingo card but it's happening. We get to see that Taehyung is actually a caring person. He just has issues with his anger as most people do and he really wants to change. A lot of people could use Hoseok's advice too.

Taehyung defending Y/N from Jimin is something that surprised the reader but not so much his brother. Jimin knows Taehyung can be loving and so it's why he walked away without any issue. Despite being mad. The way he gently closed Taehyung's door goes to show he doesn't want to anger his brother because he does care for him.

If the day comes where everyone finds out what Namjoon and Y/N are up to or if she successfully runs away Taehyung will never be able to forgive her. He'll show a side of himself she will never miss.

Seokjin will always find things out and if he doesn't know he'll make sure of it that he does. He'll even go as far as paying someone extra if the nut is too hard to crack. Or even sleep with the maids with empty promises of being theirs forever if they can tell him what they saw. But most of the time he can figure it out himself. Like you said, if he presses hard enough they'll tell on themselves.

If Y/N would have let Hoseok confront Seokjin things would have been way worse for her. Seokjin would seemingly brush off the situation but he'll make sure Y/N would be under his watchful eye. More so than she already is. It's now more than ever though that she keeps an eye out whenever she's with Namjoon. She just might tell Namjoon something about it in hopes that he'll keep watch over who sees them and who doesn't. Otherwise the situation won't be bad for just her but for him too.

Namjoon either really likes Y/N or he's up to something and if he's up to something then what is it? He's said and done a lot of things that makes him appear questionable. Is Y/N just a pawn in a grand plan or does he actually care for her? Maybe he just has a weird way of showing his affection towards her. Maybe he doesn't think things through for her sake. A lot of maybes.

Hoseok gives his all in everything. Even when it comes to sex. He just wants to drown Y/N in his love. He believes she'll fall for him eventually and when she does he'll forever give all of himself because he loves that hard - that much. To the point that it might be overwhelming for some.

Thank you for reading! Can't wait for everyone to read the next chapter 💜

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

THANK YOU @devondespresso !!

(sorry it took me a while lol but this looks really fun !! also extra perfect bc I just started reading fics again ✌️)

age gap: -1

I don't care much either way. like, it's fine, as long as no kids/teenagers are involved. the negative point is for the one time I opened a sterek fic to see what the fuss was about. derek stalking the hs while stiles dreamt about his beard and chiseled jaw during class caused emotional damage I don't think I will ever recover from.

Codependency: 11

I love me a good unhealthy relationship 👍 (<- obsessed with wuthering heights)

Obsession/Possession/Jealousy: -6

I find it mostly obnoxious tbh. often a cheap way to create unnecessary drama in the relationship. This is a fanfic, you do not need to shoehorn a third act conflict in the end there. Not rated lower bc it can be funny if done right. But still mostly annoying.

Opposites (Grumpy/Sunshine, etc): 7

I must admit. I am a bit of a sucker for that one. extra points if the characters are desperately trying to force themselves back into who they think they were before sth ✨traumatic✨ happened even though they changed too much fundamentally as a person (<- slut for character studies). though it sucks when the author does it (forcing a stereotype onto the Character and erasing any depth just to fit the trope. ew.)

Enemies to Lovers: 8

enemies to lovers >> friends to lovers. I said what I said. the more messed up shit they do to each other before the friendification begins the better. (though I don't like it when the only reason they get together is bc they find each other hot. like damn, your morals so flimsy that one (1) hot ass does it?? like I'm not here to read the five same paragraphs about how the bod is so hot but you can't have it. I'm here for the personality <3)

Sex to Feelings: -7

often accompanied by a bunch of tropes I'm not a fan of. plus not really into NSFW anyway.

Fake Dating: -9

nope. same reason as above: comes with lots of tropes I really don't like. I don't get what is cute about worrying 24/7 whether you are breaking each other's boundaries and whether your relationship looks convincing to the outside (implying a very strict line between friendship and dating and kinda dictating how couples should act? idk this is a completely different can of worms but sth about that just bothers me)

Friends to Lovers: 3

It's fine. Won't actively search it out but also won't stop me from reading. Used to not be the biggest fan but have learnt to appreciate it more.

Found Family: 10000000000+

the media that first got me into fandom was literally fairy tail. the ultimate friendship anime. enough said.

tho none of the nuclear family bs please and thank youuuu<3

Hurt/Comfort: 10

what can I say? absolute sucker

Love Triangle: -9

"guy A and guy A but wearing a leather jacket both want me. not because we have chemistry (or even personality), but because. also they both mistreat me in unique ways and it doesn't count as cheating if they both like me". I don't get it. please stop.

like, oc it's different when the triangle actually has a narrative purpose. but this one's been so overdone even those get a bit of an eyeroll from me at first

Open/Poly: 2

Won't necessarily search it out, but cool when it is in there 👍 The answer to most love triangles if the author wasn't a coward

Mistaken/Hidden Identity: 4

extra points if it is used for comedy purposes (as it should)

Monsterfucking: 7

Look. I am 1000% sure that writing smut is hard and huge respect to ppl who manage to pull it off. however. oftentimes it is kind of boring to me? Like, with monsters there's at least some weird anatomy going on yk? you never know what will be coming (ha!) next. while vanilla is just like. idk. the only thing that comes to mind at the moment are the certified SJM phrases tbh akdjfj

so this is mainly so high bc monster romance supremacy>> (especially if a bit eldritch and a bit weird. which is so fucking hard to find. and oftentimes the monsterfucking is just part of it. can be a bit annoying when I want the monster to be *romanced* but there's only fucking. so like, the true 7p are actually for the monster romance, I still don't care much for nsfw

that being said

TMA I WILL FOREVER LOVE YOU FOR HAVING THE MOST HEARTWRENCHING MONSTER/CREATURE ROMANCES. LOTS OF THOSE EVEN WITHOUT THE FUCKING. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE AMEN)

pregnancy: -9

not really a fan. idk how to properly articulate this but like. especially when the pregnancy is only used as a plot device. and the child isn't really seen as a person yk? like. if you decide to keep it. that is a whole-ass human being u putting out there into the world. what the heck.

second chance: -9

I'm way too anxious for this trope lol

slow burn: 2

cool 👍 can sometimes be a bit annoying when you want to see them established all you get are slowburns that *end* when they get together. idk will not dissuade me but will not make me click on it either

soulmate AU: -4

not a huge fan of the ideas of soulmates in general. can't rate it lower bc I *have* read some absolutely banger soulmate fics. however I think the reason it worked is because I am already familiar with the characters and their dynamic from canon/other fan works/etc (and also because they were all oneshots) I can't see myself picking up like a book with this trope (or similar stuff like "fated mates" or sth. not my jam. kinda boring.)

@ty-bayonet-betteridge @rinn-e @ashpkat @flipflapyoutwat and anyone who wants to ig?

Trope rating game

I'm so late but I love these! tagged by @zerokrox-blog ❤️❤️❤️

rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic? -10 -> very dissuaded 

0 - don’t care either way 

+10 -> very enticed 

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged.  Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

Age gap: 0

Definity depends. I don't seek it out but anything like 10 years or less doesn't freak me out too bad.

Codependency: 10

I love it so much it's ~embarrassing~ But I think thats the funny thing with what I write and what I like in fic in general, it's almost all stuff I'd hate in real life?? What does that say about me?

Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: 10

See above!

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): 2

I don't seek it out persay but its almost always cute as hell.

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: -2

I'm such a true love/fluff addict, I usually dont got the patience. But I have seen sooo many good fics with that trope though, I respect the writers.

Friends with benefits: -2

Just say you love each other already jesus christ 😭😭 (Did I mention I have no patience??)

Sex to feelings: -1

See above

Fake dating/relationship: -1

Same ish with friends and benefits! I'm such a baby gee wiz.

Friends to lovers: +2

It's cute!

Found Family: 10

Love it soooo much. Adore, adore, adore, adore!

Hurt/Comfort: +5

The guarantee of comfort, always gets me going.

Love Triangle: -10

Make em all fuck or get out of my face honestly.

Poly, open relationships: 0

Eh, I like reading the occasional like closed poly relationships or threeway but open ones just dont get me. Maybe because of bad experiences?

Mistaken/hidden identity: 3

I like them....the stupidier it is the better and no i do not know why!

Monsterfucking: +10

Yeahhhhhhhhh, I'm a fan. Definite fan. Mega fan.

Pregnancy: 5

Omegaverse or not, I like it. Which again. actual pregnancy is one of my top 5 fears. Whats up with that?

Second Chance: 0

Eh, don't look for it don't mind it. Im such a little bitch with angst it's not even funny.

Slowburn: 0

Can take or leave.

Soulmates: +5

It's cute!

Tagging with no pressure! @spectrum-spectre @letscrank @devondespresso @jjoesjonas @pearynice @heavenlycrashes @henderdads @hammity-hammer @homosexual-having-tea

[lesamis]

hey i was just wondering if you have any tips for writing relationships? is it different writing f/f and m/m ships? I dont really know anyone else who does both so I hope this is okay to ask

phew, that’s a pretty complex question! i'm not even really sure i’ve sorted through all of my own feelings about this, but here are some things i try to keep in mind: 

unless your fic specifically aims to explore gender, in any fictional relationship you’re setting up, individual personalities will probably take precedence over gender dynamics. as in, i personally try to think of my characters in terms of idiosyncracies first, and let those set up the relationship for me. what do these characters have in common? what sets them apart? what do they want? what attracts them? 

while i don’t think which gender dynamic you’re writing necessarily impacts the fictional relationship you end up depicting, i do think the work you, as a writer whose position and identity will inevitably influence your writing, have to do, will be impacted by this

what i mean by that isn’t so much the debate on whether or not it’s okay for you to write about an experience you yourself haven’t had (plenty of discourse to be had there), but that you’ll have to keep different things in mind depending on how familiar you are with the situations you’re describing.

for instance: while i think all of my fics are wildly personal, writing f/f fics will always hit home a little more for me, because a lot of the anxieties specifically about sexuality depicted in them are anxieties i’ve experienced. an eposette road trip fic i wrote this spring was probably the one where i most felt that i was specifically trying to write something wlw could see themselves in.

in consequence, i’ve been told (kindly, by a friend) that when i write m/m relationships, themes like mental health, self esteem, etc, which don’t discuss sexuality, are more prominent than those which do. such themes feature in my f/f works as well, but it was pointed out to me that any anxiety about sexuality seems absent from my m/m fics compared to my f/f ones. that’s important feedback for me to have, because i didn’t even know i was doing it - but i absolutely was, because i’ve never been a man attracted to men, and i shied away from exploring the anxieties surrounding that experience on instinct. that doesn’t in itself have to be a mistake or a problem to fix, but it is something for me to keep in mind if i want to write about different characters with empathy and understanding. 

long story short: i don’t think what gender your characters are needs to make a difference for the fictional relationship you’re depicting, but it will always make a difference for what blind spots you have as a writer & what you might want to work on. 

hope this helps a little bit? i’m sorry it’s a little long-winded, but this really is one of those questions i’ve been poring over for a long time as well, anon. 

[luveline]

Would you be at the write a senario where Eddie and Roan spend a night with reader at their house? Maybe Roan's princess room reveal? 🙏🙏

yes!! love u!! I think this is like 3k ish but idk i wrote it in the app like an idiot <\3 ♡ fem!reader

Before the big move, you and Eddie are trying to ease Roan into her new home slowly. You'd worked hard on her room — more than hard. Nights spent covered in paint, other nights spent working overtime to afford the paint, the four poster bed, the big chest at the foot of it for her toys. You'd bought her a wardrobe, lots of new clothes to fill it, and a small mannequin outfitted in a pricey princess dress.

Eddie thinks you're going overboard, though he obviously loves you to death for the effort.

"You don't have to do all this," he'd said, lips to the back of your neck.

But you do. You'd never painted her nursery, never stocked up on diapers or formula or playsuits. You're bringing your girl home. Her room has to be perfect.

Tonight's the night.

You and Eddie stand outside of Roan's classroom. You're nervous enough to shake with it, hands wringing themselves sore.

"Relax," he says, worming a ringed-hand between them.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose and take a step closer to him, shoulder pressing to his shoulder, his proximity a balm.

The door opens, and Roan's teacher greets the surrounding parents with a smile. She starts to call the kids up one by one.

You peek around her arm and your eyes find Roan where she's sitting with her friend Stacey P. They have their heads bent together, and you can hear their excited babbling from where you stand.

"That's her next to your dad?" Stacey asks, eyes half covered by thin blonde bangs.

Roan beams proudly. "Yeah, that's my mommy."

"She's pretty."

"My daddy says she's go-jus."

You wave at her, wanting to kiss her forever and ever for being the sweetest, funniest baby girl in existence.

She waves back until her wrist looks like it might fall off.

"Roan," the teacher calls, "come on, chick."

Roan springs to her feet with her small backpack in hand. Her big puffer coat protects your legs as she slings herself at you and Eddie.

"Hey, babe. Are you excited?" he asks.

She lifts her head and smiles with her little teeth and her tiny appled cheeks, shorn curls falling away from her lovely big eyes. "Yes! Let's go!"

"Alright, hold your horses. I still have to talk to Mrs. Lundy," he says.

Eddie edges away from you. You tug Roan gently by the hand so you're out of the way of the other parents and then pop a squat to be at her eye level, fingers on automatic as you align her zipper and pull it closed.

"I'm really excited for you to see your room," you confide, because while you're extremely worried she'll hate it you're doubly excited that she'll love it. Princess pinks and all the trappings.

Roan doesn't even know what to say. It's obvious she's excited at having a new room too. Whenever she's stayed in the guest room in the past, it's simply been just that: the guest room. Now it's her bedroom, permanently, and she knows that it's double the size of her old one. She doesn't know you've redcoarated it completely, though. That's the secret.

"I hope you like it," you continue, rubbing your hands down the lengths of her coat before taking her warm fingers into your colder ones.

"I love it!" she declares.

"You haven't seen it yet," you say happily.

"I loved it already. Do I get to have Lucky in my room?"

You squeeze her hands. "I thought Lucky could stay in the living room. His tank is so big."

Roan thinks it over.

"He's your fish too now, babe, " you say firmly. "You can see him in the living room whenever you want, okay?"

"Okay," she says.

You stand up because your knees have started to ache and luckily Eddie's making his way back toward you. He takes Roan's empty hand and the two of you steer her out of the side door you'd come in through and into the playground, where a mass of other parents and kids are exiting their own classes.

"What'd she say?" you ask curiously.

Eddie can't hold in a smile. "Oh, you know, things."

"Things!" you repeat, frowning at him. Roan's hand swings enthusiastically in your own. You don't have any patience when it comes to the good stuff. "What kind of things?"

He tries not to say it and ultimately fails. "Our girl's literally Picasso. She wants to submit Roan's drawings for the Indiana young artists collection."

"What?"

"It's just for schools in Indiana, but if she gets accepted they put her picture in a book and they send us a copy."

"Will you swing me?" Roan asks loudly, tipping her head back to garner your attention.

You beam at her because she is literally the coolest child on the planet. "Depends, what does dad think?"

Eddie grins and readjusts his hold on her hand. You follow his lead, and soon you're both gearing up to lift her on the next swing.

"One, two, three," he counts.

Roan takes a little running jump and you and Eddie use her weight to swing her forward off of the curb and into the parking lot. She laughs with every new swing, and any worry about hurting her arms is quickly eaten up by her joy as you make your way to the car.

She climbs into the backseat with enthusiasm. Beside her carseat are a couple of boxes of her stuff, not too much. You want her to have the option to unpack but don't want her to go back to the trailer and find it empty. You and Eddie are doing everything you can to make this transition easy for her.

She sees all of it and gets confused.

"It's for Y/N's house," Eddie explains, pulling her car seat straps around her chest.

You bite back a correction. Our house, you want to say.

"For you room," you say instead.

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" Eddie asks.

She doesn't answer. It worries you. You chew at the inside of your cheek and turn to your purse in your lap instead, digging through it for the first of her presents, a fake key to the house. You're worried she'll lose it, although it's more ceremonial than anything. You have a real one for Eddie, not that he knows yet.

"I have something for you," you tell her, fist closed around the key.

Eddie shuts the driver's door and turns to peek at what you're doing, clearly curious. You open your hand and offer up the key.

"What's it for?" she asks.

"For the house."

You can feel Eddie's gaze on the side of your face. Roan takes the key and you turn to your boyfriend, plucking his own key from your bag and passing it to him with a smile. "S'your house. Need to be able to get in."

Eddie smiles at you. He's a soft looking guy, soft jaw, slightly high cheeks. He still hasn't settled about it being his house — he's thrilled, obviously, but you know he doesn't want to sound presumptuous or cheeky by accepting it.

Well, you don't care how it sounds. If they're going to live with you they need to know how welcome they are, and how much you want this to work as a family and not just as a boyfriend with his kid.

Eddie steals a kiss that you're not expecting, slightly too rough, extremely boyish. It's pretty great, as kisses go; you can feel his enthusiasm.

The ride to your house is funny. You've done it yourself hundreds of times, but it's suddenly not just your house. You've cleaned more than you've ever cleaned before in your life. You've changed decor to be less single girl and more family, brighter colours, rainbow kitchen utensils. You'd even got one of those plaques for your house outside with the number, and, perhaps embarassingly, a stick figure family engraved into the wood. A mom, a dad, and a girl. There's even a fish bowl for Lucky.

Eddie stops in front of it in awe.

Roan had insisted on you carrying her. If she hadn't you might've asked her to let you anyways.

"It's us," Roan says, following her dad's gaze.

"That's us," you agree. You nudge Eddie gently. "You gonna let us in?"

He's uncharacteristically quiet as he turns the key and let's you in.

You drop your bag in the hallway and you and Roan peek up the stairs. Rather than show her your redecorating, you've decided to save the best until last and walk her to the right toward the living room instead.

"I made space for your-" Is it hot in here? You're ten times as nervous as you had been now you're inside. "For your table. For the princess parties. All your toys. And..." You tuck her hair behind her ear and grin at her. "I usually feed Lucky when I come home. Do you want to feed him?"

Doesn't she just? Kids go crazy for stuff like this and Roan is no exception. You walk her across your rug where the coffee table used to be and pick up the fish food one handed, letting her take the lid off.

"Big pinch, okay?"

She nods and gets a big pinch of fish flakes. You direct her to the top of the glass and slide a panel aside so she can sprinkle it in, and then you bend swiftly so she can watch Lucky swim up from the bottom of the tank and nibble at his dinner.

Eddie stays standing in the doorway.

You look at him over your shoulder and he smiles rather weakly. "What happened to your coffee table?" he asks.

"I gave it away. Thought we'd need the space."

"You didn't have to."

You don't want to wait in agony, so you ask, "Eds, are you getting cold feet? Have you changed your mind?" Reality is sinking in and it's too much for him, and he really doesn't want to live here at all, and this was just a big, huge, awful mistake-

"I think this is the easiest decision I've ever made. I didn't- I wasn't expecting it to be this easy."

You gawp at him. "Easy for you, maybe. I'm exhausted."

You're seriously only kidding. You'd do all the work you've done lately a thousand times over if it meant you got to have this, Eddie looking at you like you're something worth looking at, adoring, infatuated, and his daughter in your arms babbling to her new pet fish.

"Sh-sugar," he says with a wince. "I know, babe, I swear. And I'm gonna make it upto you."

There's no point arguing with him when he gets like this. You smile coquettishly and raise your eyebrows instead. "Yeah? Like, a back massage?"

"A really long one."

"Foot massage?" you ask, though you don't actually want one.

It melts your heart how quickly he says, "Obviously."

"Can I see my room?" Roan asks, distraction waning as Lucky the fish finishes his food and swims back down into his underwater castle.

You wipe her fish-food covered fingers before she can rub it in her nice dress. "Mm, depends. Do I get a kiss for it first?"

With terrible aim, Roan agrees to a kiss and leans in, lips landing at the corner of your mouth. You giggle at her and pretend to think some more, "Hmm... I don't know, it's a pretty great room if I do say so myself. Think I might need a kiss on both cheeks."

"Dad, help me," Roan demands.

Both Munson's kiss either cheek.

Your stairs feel imposisbly tall. "Was I supposed to get a baby gate?"

"She's not a baby."

"Well," you say, holding her closer still as you climb up the last couple of steps, "s'debatable. She's a baby to me."

"She's a baby to me, too," Eddie agrees.

Roan's door is closed but easily discernible as hers. You'd had another plaque made, 'Princess Roan' written in pink bubbly letters with rhinestones and glitter.

"Did you make that?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah."

"You did not."

"No, I didn't."

Eddie snorts.

You set Roan down in front of her new room and cross your finger that this works. That she loves it.

She looks back hesitantly.

"Open it," Eddie prompts.

Dad's approval granted, Roan reaches up and twists the door knob. It opens with a resound click.

She gasps as she enters, eyes racing around the room to take it all in. The princess bed with four posters and sheer pink and white curtains with silky sheets, the heart shaped rug, the matching vanity and closet.

The Princess dress.

She toddles up to the end of the bed and runs her hand over the big wooden chest. You've made sure there's a stepping stool by the side of the bed in case she needed it, and sure enough she can't get onto the mattress without it. The puffy sheets depress under her body as she throws herself into a starfish.

It's alarmingly quiet for a moment, and then she giggles.

You smile and make a small sound of your own, arm instinctive wrapping around Eddie's. He pulls it out of your hold to wrap it around your shoulder, lips at the back of your head.

He kisses your hair. You barely feel it, elation hot and fast in your veins.

"It's like a princess bed!"

She doesn't stay in bed long, too excited to touch and feel everything. Her hands are childishly careful when she reaches the princess dress, a brilliant creation of fake silk and beads. Her squeal is genuinely the best sound in the whole wide world.

-

You'd been so wrapped up in Roan and her first night that you'd forgotten it was Eddie's, too.

Obviously, they've slept here before. Eddie alone when Roan's with Wayne, the both of them, he's stayed in your bed more times than you can remember, but now it's his bed and you've tried to make it feel like that with new pillows, a new bedspread that isn't so girly, and a new nightstand for the right side.

After dinner — Eddie's infamous pesto pasta with all the trimmings, a stodgy masterpiece — and bath time with new bath toys, you and your boy lie in bed together, silent.

Roan had stopped moving around ages ago. You'd put her to bed, kissed her forehead, said a cheesy but extremely necessary, "Welcome home," and Roan had held your hand until you'd pulled away, like she really didn't want to let go. She'd waited for you and Eddie to close your bedroom door before she'd gotten back up, and you'd listened to her explore her new room and laugh to herself for a brilliant half an hour.

Now she's grown quiet again, you're counting Eddie's heart beat under your ear. His hands mess with your hair, no rhyme or reason to his affectionate touching.

"Is the bedspread okay?" you whisper.

"It's perfect."

"What about the thermostat? Is it too hot?"

"Perfect."

"Do you want another pillow?"

Eddie's hand creeps down your head and spread over your shoulders. "Relax, sweetheart. It's all perfect." You can hear his smile, the hitch in his breath when he silently laughs. "I'll miss your sheets, I think."

"I kept them. We can just put 'em back on."

"I have a lot of good memories in those bad boys."

You pinch at his waist. "Idiot."

"Alright, come here."

You lift your head, inquisitive.

"C'mere," he prompts, catching under your arms.

He drags you upward until you're face to face. You hold your weight off of him, a hand woven carefully into his thick head of hair. He looks quite serious, almost impassive beside the traitorous quirk of his lips.

You put your hand on his cheek and stroke the line of his bottom lip with your thumb.

"You didn't have to do all of this. Everything. But you did, and it's perfect." He swallows and covers your hand with his. "Thank you."

Easy to lean down and kiss him. You wonder if he can taste your relief as your lips part, nose tips crushed together as you wade inward searchingly. His hand moves down to your wrist where his fingers curl and cling as you kiss harder, your lips tingling with a ticklish sort of pleasure. He tastes like the mint of his usual toothpaste and he smells faintly of aftershave, more of himself, an unexplainable smell. You inhale hard rather than pull away, reluctant to sever from him.

His hand roves down, up and down again, his touch leaving behind a blooming heat.

"I love you," you say, too close.

He nips at your lip and forces you back and away from him, lifting his chin to redirect any further kissing as he catches his breath.

"Fuck," he says with a chuckle, "you're fucking spoiling me. Everything's fucking perfect and now you're kissing me like that."

"I'm gonna wash your mouth out with soap," you warn with little heat, words sticky with happiness. You feel like you've just eaten a spoonful of honey. Your throat is thick with emotion.

"You're gonna kill me," he corrects. "Kiss me like that again."

"I'm not kissing you like anything if it'll kill you, Munson. Plan on keeping you for a long, long time."

He turns his face into your hand. His exhale is hot against your palm, worse when he readjusts. Unlike his heated mouthing moments ago, these kisses are sluggish. He sucks a small half moon into the fleshy base of your thumb.

"I love you," he mumbles.

He takes your hand into his again and rubs it up his freshly shaved cheek, the skin soft and smooth.

"I love you too. So much it's- it's sick."

"They should lock you up," he says agreeably.

You drop your face into the crook of his neck and let him cuddle you and tuck the sheets tight around your back. He doesn't complain when you kiss at his throat, not aiming for anything else but this, these kisses and his warm arms holding you close.

-

When Roan strolls into your bedroom the next morning with the worst bedhead he's ever seen and Teddy the one-eared bear hanging from her hand, Eddie watches your face pull into a huge smile, his hand already held in your lap. "I think you slept almost as good as I did, little lady," you greet, voice scratchy with sleep.

She grins at you both and beckons for Eddie to help her into bed with you both. "Best bed ever!" she says through a yawn. "Thanks, mom."

You burst into tears. Eddie's only surprised you hadn't done it sooner.

-

more eddie and roan

[corroded-chrissy]

Invisible String

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve has known you nearly all his life—you’ve been attached at the hip from day one. although falling in love may not have seemed inevitable to the two of you, it definitely was to everyone else.

prompt: can you write a request where steve and his girlfriend are childhood friends to lovers so they reminisce about what cute things the other did when they were kids that fueled their crush?

word count: 4.3k

trope: childhood friends to lovers, memories made in the rain

warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, mutual pining, mild angst but mostly pure fluff, kind of a fix it fic, reader has cherry lip gloss, steve being an adorable child

a/n: @gloryofroses19 sorry this request took me so long to finish! i just moved back to college this week so i’ve been writing here and there where i can, but i hope you enjoy it! hopefully i did it justice.

[requests are open!]

It was a rainy day the first time you met Steve Harrington. 

You were just eight years old, the walls of the new house towering and wallpapered, unfamiliar and daunting. Your family had moved to Hawkins a couple short months ago, and you hadn’t been too happy about it. Leaving all your friends behind had been hard, and with school out for a couple more months, you were feeling more than a little lonely. 

A summer rainstorm had picked up this particular afternoon, drops drumming rhythmically as you gazed out the window at the rows and rows of carefully manicured lawns and white picket fences. It was shaping up to be another perfectly boring day. 

That is, until you saw him.

You squinted out of the window, breath fogging up the glass as you peered out into the street. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. There in the downpour was a pair of blue overalls, yellow rain boots, and a head of the messiest hair you’d ever seen. 

A… boy? 

To this day, you still don’t know what possessed you to fling open your front door, leaning over the safety of your porch railing to gawk at him.

“Hey! What are you doing out in the rain?!”

“Finding worms!” The boy looked up at you with a triumphant gap-toothed grin, something pink and wriggling in his fist. “You should try it, s’a lot of fun!”

“Aren’t you cold?!”

“No!” He sounded indignant, like your question was the least likely outcome to ever exist. “I’ve never seen you before! What’s your name?!” 

You shouted your name across the lawn, and suddenly the gap-toothed smile was back. “That’s a pretty name! Do you wanna come out and play with me?!”

“But you haven’t told me your name!” 

“It’s Steve! Steve Harrington!” 

“Well I think you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington!” Maybe it wasn’t very nice, but you couldn’t fathom why he’d want to be soaked to the bone, out in the rain by himself. 

He didn’t seem to take it to heart. “Don’t knock it til you try it! Pleeeease?“ 

“Why should I?”

“Because… because if you don’t, you’re a prissy little princess!” 

You opened your mouth in shock, too indignant to speak for a moment. “I am not!”

“Then why don’t you prove it, Princess?”

The taunt was there, but you could tell the name wasn’t meant to be mean-spirited. You sigh, take a deep breath, half-punctuated by a nervous laugh. “Okay, okay, fine! Here goes.”

Holding your breath, you step off the safety of the front porch, instantly feeling your clothes get drenched.

You found you didn’t care, at least not really. 

It’s incredibly vivid, the way you remember playing outside with Steve for hours that day—jumping in puddles, chasing after frogs, getting muddier than either of your mothers would approve of—long after the afternoon thunderstorm had ceased to a harmless evening drizzle. The sunset had broken through the clouds as you chased each other around his dewy yard, painting a rainbow across the once-gloomy sky. 

After a long while, you both sat on Steve’s porch, giggling and out of breath. You remember being so excited to learn you would both be in Mrs. Thompson’s class at Hawkins Elementary. You remember the way his eyes shone as you swapped stories, dreams, and favorite slushy flavors (“Nuh-uh, blue raspberry is way better!”) 

Most of all, though, you remember his blue overalls, his yellow rain boots, and his slightly cheeky gap-toothed smile as he asked, “So… still think I’m an idiot, Princess?”

You let out a very undignified snort, elbowing him good-naturedly in the side. “Just a little bit, Harrington. Our parents might actually kill us, but… I had a lot of fun.”

Somehow, his smile got even wider. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

At that moment, Steve’s mother swung the screen door open, lips pursed, arms crossed, the perfect picture of displeasure at the sight of how messy you both were. “Steven Harrington. Get inside. Now.” 

Steve looked like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it, instead offering you the tiniest smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

You knew this meant he’d probably be grounded. You mirrored his apologetic expression, stepping forward for a quick hug. “Okay. G’night, Stevie.”

It might have been the light. It might have been the embarrassment from his mother’s sudden reprimanding. It could have been a lot of things, but for a moment as you pulled back, you could have sworn you saw him blush.

“G’night, Princess,” you heard him mumble, and with that you were left alone on the front porch. 

You had made a friend. Warmth bloomed quietly in your chest as your mother ushered you hurriedly inside, scolding you with a voice laced with exasperation and concern. Maybe Steve had been right, though. Despite how soaked you were, you didn’t feel cold at all. 

Of course, you’d both developed nasty colds the next day. Even that didn’t stop him from wanting to talk to you as promised—your mother overheard you giggling into the receiver for most of the day, listening as he complained and cracked jokes through sniffles and sneezes. 

After all this time, you still gave him crap for making you go out in the rain with him, even though he insists he “didn’t make you do anything”.

Looking back at it, though, you wouldn’t change a thing. 

Steve’s favorite memory of you was a bit different.

It was May, and he’d just turned sixteen. You were getting ready to go to Tammy Thompson’s birthday party. He was up in your room with you, like most evenings, blasting Blondie’s newest hit from your record player.

It was your way of rebelling against your mother, Steve noticed, who had very loudly told you there were to be no shut doors in her house when a boy was over. You had just rolled your eyes at her. “It’s just Steve, mom!”

Over the past several years, Steve had become a part of your family. He knew your mom adored him. It was evident in the way she spoke with him, invited him over for dinner or gave him soft, lingering hugs she knew he needed.

But it was May, he’d just turned sixteen, and she knew better than anyone that you’d both grown up since your first meeting.

Steve, in particular, had shot up like a weed, his arms and shoulders filling out ever so slightly. His voice dropped a good octave or so, and you still managed to give him plenty of shit whenever it squeaked or cracked. Gone were his days of missing baby teeth and wild, messy hair (and he made sure you were the only one who knew about the magic behind Farrah Fawcett spray).

And you—well, you’d become something else. Steve couldn’t remember when exactly you’d gotten so—

“How do I look?”

He turned toward the sound of your voice, about to tease you about taking so long, but whatever he had been about to say died in his throat.

—beautiful.

The dress you were wearing brought out your eyes and emphasized the curve of your waist. The sleeves were ever so slightly puffy, and as he took in the swoop of your hair and the gentle curl of your eyelashes, he found himself at an utter loss for words.

“Hello? Earth to Steve?” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Ugh, is there something in my teeth? Does the dress look that bad? I knew this wasn’t a good color on me—”

“Hey, that’s not it at all,” Steve cut in, trying not to appear as flustered as he felt. “Quit putting words in my mouth, dummy. You look… like a princess, Princess.”

“You could have just lead with that, idiot,” you mumbled, but you were smiling, the gloss on your lips catching Steve’s attention. He found himself wondering what it would be like to—

No. No no no. You were his childhood best friend, for Christ’s sake, and friends didn’t imagine what other friends’ lipgloss might taste like.

“Can’t let your head inflate too much,” he teased. “You might get a boyfriend and forget I exist.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, spritzing on perfume, “even if that did happen, you can’t hog all my attention, Harrington.”

I wish I could.

“Are you ready to go yet? I swear, girls take five million years to get ready—”

“Shut it or I’ll tell everyone at the party your hair secrets.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I would.” You grab his hand to help him up. “Let’s go!”

…

You'd only shown up half an hour ago, and Steve could tell you already hated this party.

To be fair, as parties went, he wasn’t having the best time either.

Everyone was clustered in Tammy’s dark basement, a flask of something was being passed around, and to top it all off, every girl in the immediate vicinity had their eyes on him. Whispers and giggles were traded behind carefully manicured hands, and Steve couldn’t help but smile as he observed a hint of a scowl come over your face.

Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when Tammy decided on a game. “Let’s play spin the bottle!”

Steve would find out later that both of you wanted to go home right then and there. Stomach in knots as he shot a glance at you, he cautiously went to sit by your side.

Tammy grabbed his arm. “Stevie! You have to go sit with the boys, silly. You gotta give some of the other girls a chance, you know,” she simpered, batting her eyelashes.

Steve had never had a particular problem with Tammy Thompson, but right now she was working his last nerve. He settled for shooting her a tight-lipped smile and pulling his arm from her grasp. “Yep, got it. Thanks.”

The moment her back was turned he met your eyes, making an exaggerated gagging motion. His stomach twisted further as you erupted in silent laughter. Fuck, it was unfair how pretty you were.

Two circles were slowly formed, and the game commenced.

Years later, Steve still remembered how wildly his heart was thumping in his chest. You periodically exchanged glances with him, but as he surveyed the group of girls, he found his eyes returning to you again and again.

The empty coke bottle Tammy had chosen suddenly spun to a stop—pointed at him. He looked at you, wider-eyed than a deer caught in the headlights. He felt his hands began to sweat, and he had to wipe them against his jeans. The girls’ side was suddenly a wild flutter of activity.

Yep, he was definitely fucked.

Tammy reached out and spun the bottle again, time seeming to slow as he saw your eyes dart from the bottle to him. He had no idea what you were thinking. For the first time he wondered how he could kiss a girl that wasn’t—

“Oh, shit! It’s King Steve and the princess!”

—You.

The room erupted into chaos, and for a moment Steve just sat there dumbly. For what seemed like the first time in his life, he couldn’t read your expression as the other partygoers circled around you, cheering you on.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

He watched as you hesitantly scooted in his direction, forcing yourself to look up at him.

“We don’t have to do this,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “Say the word and we can go back to your house instead. Or literally anywhere else.”

Why, then, did something in him hope you wouldn’t listen?

He was surprised to look in your eyes and find a light, a spark that burned so brightly they practically glowed in the dark. “I…” you hesitated for a second, biting your lip in a way that made Steve want to come even closer.

Turns out, he didn’t have to.

After a second or two more, you took his face in your hands, closing the gap and urgently pressing your lips to his.

Steve practically melted into a puddle, and it was all he could do to keep himself upright. Obviously, he wasn’t completely inexperienced when it came to kissing—after all, he’d told you about the few awkward fumblings under the bleachers or in the school locker rooms—but he was absolutely sure that he’d never felt anything like this.

Your lips were soft, warm against his, and—cherries. He didn't have to wonder about that anymore. Your lipgloss tasted of cherries. He could smell the perfume you’d put on earlier, and something sweet, something entirely unique to you. Something about this—kissing you—felt so natural, so right to him, like he should have been all this time.

He was left in a daze as you pulled back, but his reverie was short-lived as he watched you turn and push past the other partygoers, running out of the basement.

“Princess—wait!”

He was up on his feet in an instant, taking off after you. He was up the stairs out onto the porch in a matter of seconds, Tammy’s screen door slamming shut behind him.

…

At some point during the party, the heavens had opened up above Hawkins. The torrential downpour was at once mesmerizing and terrifying, water running in rivulets down the street. Steve figured you couldn’t have gone far in a party dress while soaked to the bone.

Turns out, after eight years he knew you pretty well.

He found you in the treehouse you’d built in your backyard together one summer, all scattered nails, wooden planks, and blue raspberry slushies. You were both getting a bit too tall for it now, but it still held his weight as he climbed up.

The first thing he caught sight of was your dress, absolutely drenched. Your hair was wet and tangled, and you were curled up in a ball, face hidden, shoulders shaking. Steve couldn’t tell if you were shivering or crying, but either way the sight of this side of you was a painful squeeze to his heart. “Hey… you okay? You ran off there pretty suddenly—”

“Go away, Steve,” you’d managed to hiccup. You’d definitely been crying, then. Steve resisted the urge to reach out for you, instead settling for a position on your other side, knees bunched up in a way that normally would have looked hilarious.

“I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You’d dared to tilt your head up enough to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong is I ruined everything, Steve. You’re supposed to be my best friend, and I kissed you. You probably hate me, and you never want to speak to me again and—”

“Hey, hey. None of that,” Steve murmured, reaching out to wipe your cheek despite himself. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still your best friend, and it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a kiss to get rid of me. Pinky promises to be friends forever are binding contracts, I’ll have you know,” he added, relief washing over him as the smallest twitch of a smile appeared at your lips.

“You could never do anything to make me hate you. I mean—I know you better than anyone. I’ll never forget that day you came out on the front porch and yelled at me for being an idiot. That was all you had to do for me to know I needed you in my life. I knew I’d end up caring about you more than anyone or anything. And I still do now.”

He’d swallowed carefully, raking a hand through his damp hair. “And hey, if it helps… you never have to kiss me again. Since, you know, apparently it sucked so bad that you decided to run away.”

“Hey, shut up. You weren’t bad,” you’d chuckled, elbowing him gently, but your worryingly dull eyes had grown a little brighter. There’s my girl, Steve couldn’t help but think.

“That was sort of the problem, actually," you continued, thinking out loud. "I kind of got lost in the moment, but I snapped out of it and freaked out because I remembered it was you I was kissing and I just... didn’t wanna fuck things up, because you mean a lot to me. You were the first person who ever made me feel like I belonged in Hawkins, and I don’t think I could stand it if I lost you over something as stupid as spin the bottle.”

You glanced away from Steve, looking like you were building up the courage to say something more. “And, for what it’s worth, I… enjoyed kissing you. A lot.”

It was all Steve could do to look at you, hope and disbelief clashing in his mind. “You… you did?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled, a real smile this time, and Steve thought it might have been the most radiant thing he’d ever seen. “And I think I want to do it again.”

That was all Steve needed to hear before he closed the space between you once more, his lips soft and gentle on yours but always, always wanting. He kissed you like he’d never get to kiss you again, like he was starving for you, burning your taste, your touch into his memory. His hands came to rest behind your back as the rain fell harder outside, but at this moment he knew nothing but bliss, your treehouse a quiet sanctuary from the storm.

It was with reluctance that you finally came up for air, foreheads touching and giddy smiles on both of your faces.

"If I'd known that this was how your first high school party was gonna go, I would have dragged you to one a lot sooner," Steve remarked, and your beautiful, slightly wild laugh was music to his ears.

"I'd've let you drag me to one sooner, I think. So..." you trailed off, looking a little embarrassed. "What does this... mean?"

"What does—oh. Oh." He hadn't really thought about that yet. He was on the threshold of something with you, he realized, something new and exciting and utterly terrifying. But for you, he would take any risk.

"I'd love for us to be more than friends. Obviously, I'll still be your friend, but..." he took your hand in his, impossibly warm despite the chill from outside. "The thing is, I like this. I like you. Just promise me we'll still be friends no matter what happens."

"I promise." There was no hesitation from you now. "No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. To be honest, this kind of scares the shit outta me, but... I'd love for us to give this a shot."

Steve felt as if his heart might burst, and he pulled you close to his chest, planting a gentle kiss on your head. "As long as it's with you, there's nothing I'd want more, Princess."

Despite the warmth emanating from him, he still felt it when you shivered against him. "Except getting you somewhere warm. C'mon, let's get inside before you freeze to death."

You merely chuckled, rolling your eyes at him. "M'not cold, Stevie. But fine, if you insist." He regretted saying anything when you pushed yourself up off of him, but he knew it was probably for the best.

"Well, I can't exactly risk my new girlfriend getting hypothermia on me," he quipped, heading down the ladder and extending a hand up to help you.

"I didn't realize my new boyfriend was such a mom," you teased as you took his hand, but despite everything feeling somewhat normal again, Steve's face flushed at that word. Boyfriend. He was going to have to get used to that.

"Yeah, yeah, that's Mama Steve to you. If we go inside now, I'll let you pick the movie tonight."

"Deal."

Steve's arm was slung over your shoulder as you headed into the comforting warmth of the house, the rain finally subsiding to a soft mist.

As many wonderful memories as you and Steve have made together since then, this one might be your new favorite.

It’s a warm, cloudy June night. Hopper and Joyce finally decided on a small backyard wedding a few months ago, and it’s a much-needed celebration after everything your little town of Hawkins has been through.

As you gaze at the colorful string lights lining the party, watching Hopper twirl a laughing Joyce during their first dance, you can’t help but think about how lucky you are. Vecna was finally dead. Eddie’s name, after a lot of convincing, had finally been cleared, thanks to Hopper being reinstated as chief of police. Max, although she wasn’t able to be here, had finally woken up a few days ago and was recovering in the hospital.

It’s an utter miracle you all survived, after the sheer number of near-death experiences you'd had over the last few years. At this point, you’d bandaged Steve’s wounds more times than you could count. But you're so, so grateful everyone you love is alive and well.

You know Steve’s still healing from the bat attack in the upside down, but tonight he’s practically shining in a groomsmen’s tux, hair coiffed to perfection in usual Steve fashion.

For formality’s sake, you’re on the bridal party’s side with the other bridesmaids until the first dance is over, but somehow your boyfriend senses your staring and grins, shooting you a wink that’s borderline indecent.

You have to stifle a giggle when you notice Dustin elbow him in the side and mouth “gross”, although there’s no real venom behind it. You know how much the kids look up to both of you.

There’s a smattering of cheers and applause as the first dance concludes and Hopper spontaneously dips Joyce for a kiss. You make sure to give Eleven a little side hug when she wrinkles her nose at the sight. “Don’t worry, kid. You’ll get used to it.”

“It feels like revenge for me and Mike,” she grumbles, but you know she’s just as happy to see her two adoptive parents together as the rest of you are.

Eventually, more people start to trickle onto the green to dance, and Eleven squeezes your hand before running off to dance with Mike, who looks a little disgruntled to be pulled out of his conversation with Will.

You slowly saunter over to Steve, a little smile on your face. “Hey there, handsome. Want to dance with me?”

You always relish in the way Steve blushes at your compliments. “You’re killing me over here. Who said you could get all dolled up and flirt with me? You look so damn good; I might have a heart attack before I can get you on the floor.”

“I said I could, babe,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Such a dramatic. Now, are you coming or are you just gonna stand there and gawk at me?”

He laughs, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Of course, pretty girl. I’d love to dance with you.”

You make sure to stick your tongue out at Lucas and Dustin over Steve’s shoulder, the former miming kissing the air and the latter making an unflattering gagging noise.

Steve leads you out into the grass with the other dancers, one hand in yours and the other on your waist, gently swaying to the beat. It’s a slow song, tranquil and romantic, and you can’t help but think there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Whatcha thinking about, Princess?” Steve whispers in your ear.

“Just… how happy I am that I’m here. That I've got the kids, and Robin, and Eddie, and Nancy, and you. I kind of owe all of that to you,” you murmur back. Maybe it’s a bit schmaltzy, a bit hopeless romantic of you, but with Steve it’s all too easy to be that way, even after nearly four years together.

“What do you mean? You're the one who barged into my life if I remember correctly, little miss I-think-you’re-an-idiot-Steve-Harrington.”

“That’s a mouthful,” you giggle, “and still true, by the way. But you’re my idiot.”

Steve’s trying to find a clever retort when thunder rolls across the sky, impossibly loud and far too close. That’s all the warning the wedding party gets before the clouds open up, first a shower, then a drizzle.

Everyone else scrambles for cover, hiding under the white tents that have been hastily set up, or making a beeline for the Byers-Hopper house.

You and Steve, however, stand there incredulously, his perfect hair and suit now soaked. Your dress and shoes aren’t faring much better, and you know if you stay out here, you’ll be ankle-deep in mud.

All that it takes is for the two of you to make eye contact before you’re both laughing hysterically, clutching each other for support so you don’t slip and fall in the wet grass. You’re sure that, to the rest of the wedding party, you must look insane right now, but you don’t think you could care any less.

“Always the rain,” Steve gasps, out of breath, grinning so much it looks like his cheeks must hurt. “Always the goddamn rain.”

“I don’t know about you, but right now I’ve got some serious deja vu,” you agree, your arms around his neck as you catch your breath. “So... should we cut to the chase this time? Any more pressing secrets that need to come out?”

Steve's mind immediately jumps to the dresser in his room, in which there is currently a small black box—the perfect size and place for a ring. “Can I tell you later? I promise it’s just one more secret.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” you groan, but you press a kiss to his lips anyway because there’s something about him in the rain that’s just so goddamn pretty. “Tell me tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” Steve chuckles, hands on your waist as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “For now… keep dancing with me?”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you reply as he spins you around, your soaked skirt flinging droplets in all directions. “I wouldn’t come out in the rain for anyone else.”

“I know.” Steve brings you back towards him and dips you, and for the millionth time you thank your lucky stars you found your best friend and your soulmate in one person. “There’s no one else I’d rather coerce out into the rain with me.”

“Just say it back, dingus.”

“I love you too.”

[anonymousfiction211]

Steamy reunion

Summary: You are an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D.-agent, when Loki (your boyfriend) is caught and brought into the hellcarrier. It is your job to interrogate the God of Mischief, but he has other plans for you reunion. 

Word count: 2.135 words

Warnings: Smut!

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Hope you like it :). If you have any other ideas for me to write, don’t be afraid to contact me. 

Steamy reunion Loki smiled at you when he walked by. There were two guards on either side of him, who were escorting him back to his cell. They failed to notice the little wave Loki made with his cuffed hands. In your head you scolded Loki for being so careless if anyone saw here or later on the security tape your cover would be blown. After all, everyone just thought you were a Midgardian agent of their organisation, S.H.I.E.L.D. it was called. It stood for Supreme Homeland International Espionage Law-Enforcement Division. A ridiculous name for an organisation. You always expected that they chose the acronym first and made up some words to make it sound like they thought it through. You tried to hide a smile as your boyfriend was escorted back. You knew he was thinking about killing the two guards with just a flick of his hand, trying to impress you. He always liked it when you were impressed by him, and Loki is a very impressive being.

When he was out of your sightline you focused your attention back to the file before you. You were the one that was going to interrogate Loki. He had planned it all out. After your ‘interrogation’ you would leave the cell open for him. At that moment, some archer was going to stir up the hellcarrier, he would meet you outside on the landing strip. He hadn’t told you anything else, he told you it was in case you were discovered. But you knew, he liked the be the only one who knew what was going on. He only told people what they needed to follow his instruction, but his plan was always a secret. Agent Hill approached you ‘Are you ready?’ she asked. You nodded and followed her through the hallway to Loki’s cell. It was a round glass cell, with only a small bench in the back. Loki was sitting on the bench, with an amused smile on his face as you and agent Hill entered the room. In front of the cell stood a control panel, you glanced at it. On to of the buttons was a description about what the button does, which was going to your next instruction very easy to complete.

Agent Hill gave you a few rules to follow. Like, staying away from the glass and not entering Loki’s cell. After she made sure you got it she left. There were no guards present, meaning they clearly had faith in the cell they build. When agent Hill left you turned around and saw Loki already advancing at you. He stopped right before you, the thick glass separating the two of you. His stance was dominant and he had a certain hunger in his eyes. ‘Open the door, love’ he said in a low voice. There weren’t many situations where you had the upper hand. Loki was stronger, faster, and used his powers to stay one step ahead of everyone. So, right now you couldn’t resist your chance to tease him a little bit. ‘I’m afraid that I’m under clear instructions from agent Hill not to open the door’ you said as seriously as you could. Loki looked confused for a second, but then you saw the playful twinkle in his eyes. ‘I’m going to get out either way. You can be on my good side or on my bad side. And you know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?’ he said with his velvet voice.

You couldn’t help but shiver at his words. Your head filled with images of what Loki had done with you over the last year. The God of Mischief, the silvertongue, certainly lived up to his name in the bedroom. ‘I need to figure out the systems first’ you whispered to him. ‘You insult me, darling. I already took care of that’ he faked an insulting expression. ‘Now open the door and come in here, I won’t ask again’ he said sternly. You went to the control room and pushed the button marked ‘open door’ and the door of Loki’s cell slid open. Loki watched every step you took towards the open door. The moment you stepped inside his cell he stalked towards you. It only took him a few steps. He stood very close in front of you. You looked up at him and he down at you. He grabbed one of your cheeks and closed the distance to your lips. You felt his breath on your skin as he ghosted over your lips with his. ‘Well done, love’ he said before kissing you deeply. When he broke the kiss, he chuckled when he heard you whine slightly.

‘Did you miss me?’ he asked you. ‘With everything I’m. It took a lot of self-control when they first brought you in to not come looking for you’ you told him. ‘Had fun here on Midgard?’ he purred. He knew that you hadn’t. As him, you also thought Midgardians were weak creatures. He just laughed at your scolded expression. He grabbed both your cheeks and pulled you in for a deep kiss again. You felt his tongue slip out and you immediately opened your mouth to give him access. Your tongues danced around each other and you couldn’t help but moan a little into the kiss. Loki broke the kiss when both of you needed air. ‘I missed you’ he said while putting his forehead against yours. ‘I missed you too’ you said back. His hands grabbed your and he pulled them to his chest. ‘I have to go now, I see you outside in about half an hour’ you whispered. You took a step back, intending on leaving, but Loki pulled you close against him. ‘Change of plans’ he grinned at you.

Before you could register what was happening his tongue was in your mouth. Eagerly, you widened your mouth to give him better access. You moaned into the kiss, it had been so long that you were able to touch each other. Your hands started to roam his body. You were starting to get frustrated by the many layers of clothing he had on. Loki chuckled he broke the kiss and took the hem of your t-shirt to put it over your head. He threw the shirt on the ground behind him and stopped to stare at your breasts. His pupils were so wide you almost couldn’t see his eye colour. His hands slowly started to caress your breasts at the edge of your dark green bra. You began to blush under his gaze. His hands went to the middle of your bra and he pulled at the little golden snake which hang there. He turned his gaze back to you and you had never seen him look so feral.

He unclipped your bra and immediately unbuttoned your pants. Within seconds you were naked and he pushed you against the glass. He started to devour your mouth, leaving you breathless. You started to unclip his leather tunic and he started to help you to make it go faster. His lips never left yours. When he was naked you pushed him back slightly. ‘Do we have time for this?’ you asked him. Loki was quite insatiable and sex with him always included lots of foreplay, multiple rounds and he could last a very long time. ‘There is always time for this’ Loki said. His hands found your waist and he lifted you up against the glass. Your legs wrapped around his waist and you felt his erection against your clit. He slowly started to grind into you, making you wetter by the second. ‘Loki’ you whined, needing him inside of you. ‘Patience, love. After a few days everything will change for us’ he whispered in your ear. He nipped at your earlobe, making you moan loudly.

Loki was leaving hickeys and marks all over your neck and chest. After you regained your senses you asked him ‘What do you mean?’. Loki laughed darkly. ‘That means…when I have this world… I can do whatever I want’ he whispered between his groans. ‘And what I want… more than anything… is you’ he said. ‘So, that’s your plan?’ you asked slightly out of breath. The tip of his erect cock was teasing your entrance. He slowly brought you down on his cock, impaling you against the glass. ‘Oh my god’ you gasped when you felt him entering you. Loki just grinned smuggle and started a very slowly thrusting in and almost out of you. ‘The plan is a bit more complicated than that’ he said. Your hands went to his hair and you tugged slightly on them, earning you a small moan from Loki. His picked up the pace slightly, your walls were slowly getting sensitive. But it would never be enough to send you over the edge, he was going to slow for that. ‘First, we escape this plane’ he started to explain. His mouth found one of our nipples and he started to circle it with his tongue. When you were panting enough to his liking he released your breast and started to leave open mouth kisses on your throat.

‘Then, we will go to Stark tower’. He picked up the pace of his thrusting again and you were starting to moan louder. ‘I will open a worm hole and my army will come out and defeat these so-called heroes’ he sneered. One of his hands found your clit and he started to draw circles on it fast. ‘Loki, oh my god, don’t stop’ you begged him. Loki just grinned wickedly ‘Normally, I would love to play with you more. But since we are on bit of a deadline…’ He pulled out of you and sat you down. You whined at the loss of feeling inside of you. Loki winked and got down on his knees. Before you could ask what he was doing his tongue was on your clit and two fingers slid inside of you. He was working you into a frenzy. ‘Come for me’ he growled. The vibration of his voice that shot through your clit sends you over the edge. You came loudly screaming his name and your knees started to buck. Loki grabbed your hips and pulled you down towards him. ‘On all fours’ he commanded you sternly. You quickly obeyed him.

You felt him shuffle behind you and he grabbed your hips so hard, you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. But you didn’t care about that, you were too excited for what was to come. This time he didn’t take it slow, he quickly entered you and was fucking you like an animal. You stretched your arms out and lowered your upper body. Loki didn’t relent and started to leave bite marks against your shoulder blades. The only thing you could do was moan and let Loki fuck you, like he wanted. Not that you were complaining. ‘You know what I’m going to do after that?’ he asked. You didn’t answer him, but just moaned loudly instead. You were slightly sliding back and forth, because of his hard thrusting. ‘I’m going to rule… this planet with their… pathetic mortals’ he spat. His fingers dugged deeper into your hips, which made you cry out in pain and pleasure simultaneously. ‘You shall be my queen’ he grunted. ‘And every morning and every night I will fuck you senseless’ he went on. ‘We will get everything we deserve’. Loki’s hand snaked around your stomach and found one of your breasts. He started to massage it. The pleasure became to overwhelming and you were clenching his cock slightly, trying to hold off your orgasm as best as you could. ‘Loki, please’ you begged him. His upper body was on yours, he slowed his pace a bit and started to whisper in your ear. ‘You will rule by my side, together we will make something of this planet. And you will obey my every command, won’t you?’ he asked you. ‘God, yes, Loki, yes’ you screamed out. ‘Then come for you King’ he commanded. Your orgasm shot through you and your vision blurred a little. After a few thrusts you felt Loki groan loudly and his seed spilled inside of you.

He slowly pulled out of you and sat down against the glass wall. You turned around and saw his hands open for you. You sat down on his lap and curled yourself against him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He gave you a soft kiss on the top of your head. ‘I can’t wait to rule by your side’ you whispered to him. He held you tightly against him ‘You will be an amazing queen’ he whispered back. Loki just caressed you for a few moments until you heard him sigh. ‘I’m afraid you really should get going now’. You got up from his lap and started to search for your clothes. You put on your underwear and pants. Before you could grab your bra from the ground Loki beat you to it. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen this one before’ he smirked at you. He stood up and you rolled your eyes when you saw he had dressed himself with his seidr. ‘That’s not fair’ you said while trying to get the bra back. ‘Tsk, no, darling. I’m keeping this one’ he said while winking at you. You felt a blush starting to form on your cheeks. His smile widened when he saw it, he loved to make you blush. You put on your shirt and walked out of the cell. Loki walked besides you and grabbed you for a deep kiss. He let go of you and opened the doors for you. Right before you walked through he slapped your ass ‘See you in five minutes, my queen’ he purred while you walked outside of the room.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream​

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[sinfulcries]

reader filming him and kenma fucking without his consent and black mailing him the next day, telling kenma that he won't leak the video if kenma becomes his slave. despite reader being toxic, kenma catches feelings for him and when he confesses, reader says he feels the same way and fucks kenma only to crush kenma's hopes by saying he was just joking & that he would never like him hehe.

tokyo afternoons . kenma x male reader

authors notes. holy shit this was really long and it took me a few weeks to write. i was planning on writing 2 smuts for this but i lost inspiration at the end </3 anyways, virgin kenma hits differently

word count. 3.1k

tw. blackmail, non consensual filming, manipulation, toxic && douche-y reader, sadistic reader, virginity loss, corruption, size difference, unprotected sex, ignorant kuroo, obsession, spitting, noncon at the end.

The air was hot. Tokyo has always been so warm but it was never this hot. Kenma’s pale skin started to sweat, cheeks flushed as golden eyes peered at the man who was sitting beside him. You always left a warm feeling in his chest-- always left his heart drumming loudly whilst his cheeks were flushed a bright red. You were addictive, one of the people who managed to effortlessly bring a smile on to Kenma’s face.

“You’re staring at me.” You broke the comfortable silence with a chuckle, Kenma snapping out of his trance as he turned away to avoid your hot gaze. “Sorry,” Muttering a half hearted response in reply, the blonde averted his gaze to the sky-- watching the harsh sunlight spread over tokyo’s vast horizon. “You know, You look really pretty when you were staring at me earlier.” Another sentence that came out of your mouth broke the comfortable silence once again, and Kenma eyed you cautiously, not wanting to believe the compliment. 

“Do you say that to every person you hook up with?” Furrowing your eyebrows at his response, you planted your arms on top of your thighs, resting your head in the comfort of your palms as you looked at the shorter blonde seated beside you. “Believe it or not, I’ve only said that to you.” 

A sweet-talker. That’s what you were. Trying to lure Kenma in with your velvety voice and your captivating stare. Again, you were addicting. And Kenma was bewildered that he managed to hook up with you, the most popular and well loved guy in his university. “You seem like the type of person to call your partner a slut in public.” 

“I do call my partner’s ‘slut’ in public. Not with you though.” You snorted, grinning as you faced the sky, taking occasional glances at the male. “And why is that?” Confusion laced in his voice, and eyes narrowed at your taller figure, you only smiled softly in response, lashes fluttering against soft skin as you whispered faintly, “You’re just different.” 

Kenma could barely form a response with how his skin turned hot quickly-- The heat of the sun accompanied by your words only making him more of a mess than he already was. Hearing the speakerphone play the familiar tone signalling that their break was over, you grabbed the back of the smaller boy’s neck before pulling his head in to connect your lips with his. You took the opportunity to tug on his bottom lip between your teeth before pulling away. 

“I’ll see you at my place, Kozume.”  You sing-songed whilst simultaneously standing up to catch your next class. Kenma was left to stare at your retreating form, cheeks dusted with red as he felt the warmth in his chest spread every time he thought of your lips on his own once more.

Time seemed to tick slowly-- and Kenma had to begrudgingly go through the whole day without thinking of you or the intimate little moment that you had with him a few hours ago. It was pure torture-- not having you by his side or seeing your smile or hearing your shameless attempts at flirting. It was embarrassing, but he knew that he was getting used to you and your presence. Running a hand through his coarse hair, he spotted you leaning against the wall outside of his classroom, a greasy smile plastered on your face as you diverted your attention from the ladies beside you to the small blonde. 

Kenma’s heart dropped. He knew you were popular and that he didn’t have the right to get jealous because you were never his to begin with, but did that intimate moment mean nothing to you? Did that kiss mean nothing to you? He was snapped out of his thoughts when you tapped his shoulder once again-- your deep voice ringing in his ears as you cupped his cheek tenderly. “-ma, Kenma hey?” 

“Sorry I zoned out again.” He apologised, forgetting about what upset him for a moment before removing your calloused hand that rested on his cheek. You frowned at the action but soon relaxed, taking his small hand in your own. “Don’t worry about it. Should we get going?” You asked, and Kenma tensed, heaving a sigh as he mustered the courage to remove his hand from your hold.

“I don’t think i can go to your place today. Just choose one of those girls to go instead.” he murmured, bowing dejectedly. Tilting your head in confusion, you slowly grabbed his chin, tilting his head softly so that his golden orbs could meet yours. “Are you jealous, Ken?” you cooed, pressing another kiss onto his lips as he could only hear the whispers of his classmates in the background.

Kenma started shaking, instinctively moving closer towards you, turning his head so that he could bury his face into your chest. Noticing Kenma’s change of behaviour, you glared at the group of girls gossiping, instantly shutting them up. “Mind your own business.” Your loud voice was heard throughout the semi-crowded hallway and the people who had witnessed the sight of you kissing kenma nodded frantically, scrambling away to leave you and kenma to your own devices.

“They’re gone now baby. You can stop hiding.” Grabbing his hips gently, the blonde slowly scanned his surroundings before hugging you again, a soft whimper leaving his lips as you stroked his hair soothingly, “T-Thank you.”

Smiling fondly you replied, “No problem. Let’s go, baby.” 

As the two of you made your way towards your apartment, Kenma couldn’t help but stare at your taller figure, huddling closer to your side once he felt the chilly afternoon air hitting his skin. “We’re almost there, kitten. Sorry I didn’t bring my jacket.” You apologised, instead removing your blazer and placing it on top of his shoulders. “You’ll get cold, y/n.” Kenma murmured worriedly, “I’ll be fine baby, don’t worry.”

His chest rose and fell quietly. The faint sounds of footsteps and your occasional humming were the only sounds that he could hear in the empty street. You both arrived at your place quite quickly. You politely opened the door for the setter, leaving your backpacks at the doorstep and discarding your shoes before making your way towards the kitchen. “Do you want something to eat, Ken?” You called out, opening your fridge to scan over the snacks you had. 

“No thank you.” Kenma declined from the couch, unbuttoning the first top buttons of his dress shirt and tossing his tie to the side. “Suit yourself.”

Making your way towards Kenma’s hunched form-- a grin wormed its way onto your lips, ruffling his hair once you crept up behind him. “Wanna go to my room instead? You can lay down more comfortably over there.” 

Kenma gratefully accepted your offer, taking small and reluctant steps towards the mattress. “A-Are you sure I can lay down here?” The blonde shyly inquired, unable to focus once your scent hit his nose. You smelt so good-- fresh and clean, just the way Kenma liked it. You laughed at his flustered expression once more, jumping onto your mattress before pulling him in so that he was on top of you. “You’re light.”

“A-And you’re really warm....” His voice was so faint that you could barely hear it. Kenma looked to face you, cheeks dusted with red as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. “What’s on your mind?” 

“I was wondering i-if you c-could…” Kenma tried his best not to stutter.

“If I could, what, kitten?”

Closing his eyes, Kenma took a deep breath before murmuring, “If you could kiss me again....”

Not giving the setter a chance to repeat himself, you leaned in to kiss him-- snaking an arm around his slim waist possessively as you started to jerk your hips against his clothed cock. Kenma whimpered into the kiss, eyes shut tightly as he failed to notice your free hand propping your phone on the nightstand-- giving the camera a perfect view of what you were doing to the poor boy. 

“Ruin me, y/n-kun~” Kenma didn't have to tell you twice before a dark smirk made its way onto your lips-- hitting the ‘record’ button before trailing your kisses downwards, kissing and sucking on the skin of his jawline and neck. 

“Mm,” Kenma whimpered, grounding his ass against your growing erection, earning him a deep growl of his name. “Yeah baby keep grinding against my cock like that,” you praised, only making the smaller male comply. 

A whine left the blonde’s lips as he started humping his ass against your thick cock-- his head fuzzy and vision clouded with lust. He loved this so much-- feeling your bulge against his ass. If the tent in your slacks was already big enough to prod at his clothed entrance, he couldn’t imagine how big you would feel deep inside of him, rearranging his guts and fucking him like the useless cock sleeve he was.

Feeling your big hands caressing the soft skin that hid beneath his dress shirt, he yelped as your thumbs pressed against the flesh of his hip before moving upwards to roll his nipples between your thumb and index finger. “You’re so sensitive, kitty. Such a cute little boy…” you cooed, tugging on the hardened bud.

Kenma keened at your touch, leaning against your chest as you moved to unzip both his and your trousers, making both of your hard cocks spring free from its confinements. Kenma’s intense and love-struck gaze was trained on your hard cock, the sight making him subconsciously lick his lips. “Don’t just stare at it, Kitty. Put it in your mouth.”

He gulped. His pupils shaking and his hands sweating as he struggled to even touch your length. “I-I don’t think i-it would fi--!” You were getting impatient and soon you grabbed him by his hair, forcing him to take your fat cock in all at once. “Stop making excuses and take it like a good boy.”

You started fucking his warm throat-- a low groan leaving your lips once you felt the tip hitting the back of his throat. Kenma was inexperienced and you could tell by the way he was sobbing, frantically tapping your thighs signalling that he couldn’t breathe. You rolled your eyes, lifting his head up so that he could gasp for air only to fuck him a second after. “Breathe through your nose baby.”

Kenma’s tear filled eyes met yours and eventually, he started getting used to the feeling of your cock wrecking his pretty little mouth. His face was ridden with drool, the sound of gurgling, your deep groans and his frantic whimpers around your cock the only noise filling the room. 

“I’m about to cum, doll--!” You rasped, thrusting into his mouth a few more times before holding his head in place, spilling your hot cum down his throat. Your free hand came to cup his cheek, spreading the cum that dripped down his chin onto his cheeks, mixing it with his drool and his tears. “So fucking pretty.” you grinned, making him smile weakly in response.

You effectively flipped Kenma so that you were on top of him, Your fingers teasing the rim of his puckered hole as he squirmed beneath your bigger figure. “You’re a virgin aren’t you?” You mused, grabbing the bottle of lube from your night stand before coating your fingers generously with the cold gel.

Kenma blushed, turning his head to avoid your gaze as he felt his heart thumping loudly in his chest. “Y-Yeah..” He murmured.

Your gaze on the blonde softened, wanting to at least prep him properly before fucking him senseless. “Okay. I’m going to stretch you out first, Is that fine with you darling?” A curt nod was Kenma’s only response and You wasted no time in stretching his hole out. You started with one finger, thrusting it in and out of him until he got used to the feeling before moving onto two fingers. You took your time with him, making sure that he felt good before he told you that he was ready to take you in.

Glancing at the camera once more you grinned darkly before snapping your hips forward, burying every inch of your cock inside of Kenma’s ass. The smaller male mewled helplessly, arching his back as he felt full from your cock. 

“Mmm, Your cunt’s so nice and tight f’me” You moaned against his taut skin, snapping your hips forward to meet Kenma’s. The smaller male jolted forward, attempting to meet up with your pace only to rake his nails helplessly against your back.

Kenma felt your lips clasping around his hardened nipple, Your warm and wet tongue swirling around the swollen bud. The blonde cried out in bliss, toes curling as he came without warning, an amused chuckle leaving your lips. “You’re so sensitive, Kenma. You came so easily.”

“S’Cause you’re too big…” Kenma laughed breathlessly, feeling the bulge in his stomach as you moved inside of him. A fond smile replaced your hot expression and soon enough, you were peppering kisses all over his sensitive body, a string of whimpers leaving Kenma’s mouth as he begged for more.

As much as Kenma enjoyed the hot afternoon in your embrace with your cock buried inside of him. He failed to notice the beeping sound of your camera once the two of you were done with your little session.

The next day seemed like a blur to the man. After you approached him, Showing the video you took with a shit-eating grin on your face, He instantly begged you not to show anyone-- Even getting on his knees to suck you off in the senior’s empty classroom. Your smile was different-- it wasn't genuine and soft just like the one you had flashed him yesterday-- your smile was wicked, condescending. And it only made his heart break much more, seeing how mean and ruthless you actually were. Your actions were undeniably fucked up however Kenma still couldn't bring himself to despise you, And he hated how much you still made his flutter even if you were hurting his feelings without a care in the world. 

“Kuroo can I tell you something?” Kenma asked timidly, asking the chemistry major, making him nod attentively. “Yeah go ahead man.” 

“You know Y/n L/n right..?” The blonde’s voice was slowly becoming softer and Kuroo only hummed, “Yeah the attractive senior what about him?” Kenma gulped before continuing, “I-I… we had sex and he b-black mailed me..” 

Kuroo scoffed, laughing loudly at the words that left Kenma’s mouth. “Y/n? Fucking someone like you? I'm sorry Ken but fantasies are waaay different than reality. Have the video games been getting to your head? He’s way too out of your league.” Kuroo shook his head, trying to stop himself from laughing more and Kenma sighed exasperatedly, trying not to cry. 

“You’re really not helping, Kuroo.” He murmured as the rooster head only raised his hands up in defense, “I'm just saying! He would more likely go for me you know,” The older male cooed teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows. “Well I have a class to catch, Ken! Let’s hang when you’re less busy and also, get lots of rest.”

Kenma sighed at the man’s words as he was left alone to ponder. If his best friend didn’t believe him then, no one would. However as much as the thought consumed him, He soon craved to have you touch him lewdly once more. He craved you, Confusing infatuation with love. Kenma wasn’t in love with you, No, He was obsessed with you. And to think that he would have such feelings for, you, out of all people, made his situation much more pitiful. 

Before the blonde could think of anything to make his situation less worse, He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, a text message that had been sent from you illuminating brightly on the screen.

Y/n-Senpai: Come over after class.

Although the text was simple and straightforward, Kenma couldn’t help but think about it for the rest of the day. Why did you want him to come over? Were you gonna delete the video? Several thoughts spiralled in his head but none of them seemed to answer any of his questions.

“Relax, Kenma, I’m not going to do anything.” You laughed heartily, making the blonde seated in front of you shuffle nervously. Your words were not exactly the most convincing, especially paired with the mischievous glint in your eyes. But he decided to keep shut, letting you speak first.

“Do you like me?” You spoke bluntly, And Kenma tensed at the question, hanging his head down low to avoid your gaze. You soon frowned at the action, grabbing the smaller male’s chin, forcing him to look you in the eye. “C’mon, Ken. Answer me.”

It was now or never. You were giving Kenma the chance to confess! He wouldn’t just throw this opportunity away, No! He was going to tell you how he felt right here, right now. “Y-Yes.” He mumbled embarrassedly, only to blush once he saw you smiling at him softly.

He was too innocent! You almost felt bad for playing with his precious little feelings, however, as much as you loved making the naive boy smile, You would much rather see him crying and wailing for you to reciprocate his feelings.

“Are you gonna say anything else…?” Kenma piqued anxiously, and you hummed in response, inching your face closer to his, “Do you want me to say anything?”. God-- How could he form a proper reply when your lips were merely inches away? The younger only nodded before you leaned in to kiss him. 

“I wanna fuck you.” Were the words that came out of your mouth. “I- Don’t think I want to-” 

Giving him no time to protest, you pinned him onto your couch, pressing your body closely against his as he let out a silent mewl. “Don’t be such a killjoy. I thought you liked me?”

Your change of personality only caused Kenma to sniffle, tears forming in his eyes as he clutched onto the couch’s fabric tightly.-- “I do but, I don’t want to--!”

He looked so pathetic! And it almost made you cum, seeing him look so pitiful and helpless. Your touch on his skin was hot-- Blazing and painful; It almost reminded Kenma of the hot tokyo afternoon he spent with you a few days ago, except this time, you were torturing him and taking advantage of how weak he was, especially when it came to you. 

You effectively shut the male up by spitting into his mouth, forcing him to swallow your saliva as your predatory gaze landed on his shivering body. “You don’t want to? Well then you’ll leave me no other choice but to force my cock inside of you, Kenma.”

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”

[dreamsclock]

VERY GOOD DAY TO YOU SPARROW I HOPE YOU HAVE MUCH MUTUALLY ASSURED DISTRUTION AU JUICE

(it's my personal favorite)

To celebrate I offer you some brain worms like

-Wilbur breaking out Dream after Sam rejects his request to vist

-Wibur finding out the torture has been cranked up to 100000

-Wilbur, being Wilbur, takes advantage of Dream by acting like he doesn't know what Dream is trying to do

-Dream threatening Wilbur when he can barely function outside the prison,

-Wibur playing nurse, is he a good nurse ?? Maybe from taking care of Tommy and Tubbo when they were kids or is he more like "I hate that you're making me take care of you but I can take this time to get the admin on my side,"

This is incoherent but brain goes burrrrrr

YOOOO I LOVE ALL OF THESE IDEAS SO MUCH !!!! i hope you don’t mind me combining a few, as well as just adding general fun ideas, to write something out of it !!! i couldn’t resist :D

warnings: broken bones, injuries, trauma, torture implications, mental illness, mental instability, general mutually assured destruction toxic relationship awfulness, smoking.

Dream can barely see straight when he’s broken out, much less focus enough to give Wilbur any sort of coherent medical advice.

“Don’t worry!” Wilbur reassures him, cheer in his voice. “Phil’s surprisingly good at playing nurse, I’ve picked up a couple of things from him. First things first—”

He pulls out shears.

Dream’s mind blanks, and he passes out at the sight of them.

He only comes to hours later, semi-coherent and coming back to consciousness to hear Wilbur’s low steady soliloquy (oh god, is he going to do that all the time?), to the feeling of being swaddled with blankets and to the sight of a sign that helpfully says THIS IS NOT PRISON AND YOU ARE NOT (PROBABLY) DREAMING — which, very quickly, makes Dream wonder if that’s exactly what’s happened.

Fuck, he feels like shit.

“Oh, he’s awake!” Wilbur calls out in delight. “It’s about time. Here I go breaking you out only for you to collapse on me and leave me to do all the hard boring work. So much for being my partner in crime.”

Dream opens his mouth, tries to force the muddled words floating about his head to make sense. “Not your partner,” he murmurs, closing his eyes again and idly wondering if the prison would be better than whatever the hell Wilbur is (because it sure as hell doesn’t seem to be sane), “‘sides, I brought you back first. ‘S only fair you help me.”

Wilbur giggles. “It’s all about reciprocity, isn’t it?” He agrees, lighting a cigarette for himself before offering one to Dream. Despite his already scorched body from the lava and the wheeziness of his breath he’s terrified will be permanent, Dream takes it with a shaky hand and a wince. “You do a little something for me, I do a little something for you, and so on and so forth. Is that how you want to play? It’ll be a different from everyone else on the server, won’t it?”

Dream, very bitterly, conceded that point to him, because the rest of the server have always been far less focused on reciprocity than they have been getting whatever they can from him and twisting him into the remainder of what they need. An ally, an asset, a threat, a villain: he’s been transformed so many times over the months he’s almost forgotten who he really is.

“How about a time bomb?” Wilbur offers, like he can hear his thoughts (and maybe he can, because Prime knows what he’s learned in the Void), grinning like the cat who got the cream. “Might suit us better than playing the villain or the hero or anything in between.”

Dream stares at him, nonplussed between the sharp clarity of smoke in his lungs and the dull pain clogging up his mind. “Us?” He asks, shrewd, and Wilbur’s grin narrows, thins into a blade. “What do you mean, us?”

“Yes, us, I suppose,” Wilbur replied, “we’re basically two halves of a whole, aren’t we? Frankenstein and Frankenstein’s Monster—”

“Which is which?”

Wilbur laughs uproariously like he’s said something hilarious. “Well, that is the question, isn’t it? Which is the Monster: the scientist or the creature? Even that’s up for debate, because surely the man who turned the creature into, well, a Creature, is just as much as a creature as it is. It’s—”

“Wilbur.” Dream closes his eyes, already exhausted. “Please.”

“—a fascinating debate we’ll return to when you’re less grouchy,” Wilbur finishes with a charming smile that conceals none of his malice or mania, “but yeah, us! We’re going to work together, Dream. We’re going to bring this server to its knees. We can... We can rule over it together.”

Dream sneers through a drag from his cigarette, eyes hollow. “I don’t want to rule the server,” he says, “I never have. I want...”

I want my friends and family happy, he would have answered at the beginning, honest and earnest and in love with the world, I want to see them thrive.

Now? Something cruel curls in his throat, and he’s not so certain it’s the smoke as he is knowledgeable it comes from months of imprisonment and neglect and torture and hell. “I want to watch it burn,” he says, and Wilbur’s expression lights up, “I want it gone.”

“Well, even better,” Wilbur grins, eyes sparkling behind his glasses, “because what is a hero without a villain?”

Dream almost laughs. “Who’s the hero supposed to be out of the two of us?” He asks mockingly.

“Who’s the villain? Frankenstein, or the Thing he created?” Wilbur returns.

Depends on the narrative, is the right answer, the one they’re both all too aware of. They’ve both been victims and masters of the narrative at one point. Dream swallows down this answer, though, because he’s exceptionally worried it’ll lead to another spiel from Wilbur that he really wants to avoid at all costs. “You want to rule the server, I want to destroy it,” he says, “our goals conflict.”

“Well, doesn’t that make our partnership all the more interesting?” Wilbur teases. “Total control, total annihilation, don’t they both require the same methods? You can cause the chaos, I’ll pretend to smooth it over, and at the end of the day, we both get what we want. How about it?”

And Dream stares at his worst enemy, his oldest rival, the man he’d sworn once when he’d been more lucid to never ever do anything for. Wilbur stares back expectantly, hand out, smoke weaving above both of them in anticipation.

Finally, Dream sighs, moves his hand to shake Wilbur’s. “Alright,” he begins, “then it might—”

He jumps, pain lancing up his arm to his elbow and making him hiss, defensive and annoyed.

“Wilbur. You’ve set the bone wrong,” he accuses instead of agreeing, and Wilbur rolls his eyes flippantly, waving one hand in dismissal.

“Really,” his new ally says, “what’s the concept of wrong anyway? Right and wrong — they’re just words used to confine us, to limit us. Do they really mean anything, Dream?”

Dream prods his arm, suppresses a low groan of pain. “Yes,” he decides, “because whatever the fuck you’ve done to my arm, it’s wrong.”

Wilbur scowls, cheer and hyperactivity dying without preamble. “Let me try again,” he says, repositioning himself at Dream’s arm, “I’m going to break it again.”

“Don’t.”

Wilbur does.

For the second time that day, Dream passes out.

Just before he does, he thinks for the first (but certainly not the last) time that maybe this isn’t going to be as good a partnership as he’d hoped it would be.

(He can’t help but feel safe anyway.)

[devildomdoofus]

I saw you said your commissions are open, if it's ok can I request a fluffy morning with the demon brothers, please? I just found your blog but I already fell in love with your writing style 😍. I hope you have a great day 🤗

Thank you so very much!! 😭 I’m over the moon that I can make you happy with my writing and I’ll GLADLY take this request ✨ I hope you have a great day as well!!

I also hope I’ve done your request justice 🥺

- DevildomDoofus

Through Morning’s Rays

Fluffy mornings with the Obey Me! Brothers

💙Lucifer:

Both of your schedules differed a generous amount. He wakes up the earliest out of the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall combined, to ensure everyone’s up and ready for school/work/etc.... and he is the last to go to bed.

That is, if he isn’t dog tired by the time he’s finished doing his last rounds of security checks and sending any remaining night owls to their rooms to keep their schedules in check, and collapses at his desk while finalizing reports.

You, on the other hand, have a steady schedule due to your obligations to your school (and job, if you worked).

To say that you two have a hard time spending any amount of quality time together is an understatement

Please forgive him, he is a lone father and he is trying his best

When he’s up early to get a head start in working to the bone, as usual and doesn’t have much time to share the fleeting, morning hours with you, he’ll gingerly place a kiss to the top of your head and shift the blankets from your late night tossing and turning, back to their place over your shoulders and covers the rest of your body. He’ll leave a little note by the bedside table that wishes you a wonderful day and promises that he’ll meet with you shortly to make up for lost time.

On the rare occasions that he manages to be able to share mornings with you, it is like a gift from the celestial realm to you both in which afterwards, the two of you are like completely different people, beaming with sunshine and happiness as your batteries have been recharged.

In those rare moments, he’ll slide to your side of the bed, oh so carefully snake his arm around you and tugs you gently into his embrace as he places kisses all atop your head. When you finally open your eyes and face him, he’ll run his hand up the length of your silhouette to your face, cupping it, rub his thumb over your cheek and smile lazily. “Good morning, lamb.” He whispers, trying to disguise the grogginess in his voice. Then, he leans down to press his lips against yours in a way that makes you feel like he’s been starving for you for months on end, only to now get what he’s craved and yet it’s not enough.

In this moment, nothing in all of the realms matters to him more than you. Just you and you alone.

💛Mammon:

You spent many, many, MANY mornings with him and they were some of your favorite memories since you first came to the Devildom. For him.... well, maybe not at first since you were kind of a chore. But the was before you two became so close.

The only problem was that neither of you were morning people, especially if either of you had responsibilities that day like school or work. To deal with such a thing, the two of you made a deal where each of you took turns being the one to help wake the other.

There were mornings where he woke you up with a heavy pillow to the torso and it ended up in you two being late for school due to an epic pillow fight that neither of you wanted to lose.

Other mornings, you woke him up by jumping and flopping around next to him on the bed, belting a song that was the favorite of the pair of you, and he tackles you back down to the bed to deliver you a piping hot plate of a tickle fight

and then there were THOSE mornings.

These mornings, when the two of you just happened to wake around the same time, he’d smile sleepily, yank you closer, and place a kiss on your forehead. “Mornin’, my lil’ human.”

UGH, that gravely, morning voice would be the bittersweet death of you.

While having a few hours to spare, you would lay there in the semidarkness, whispering sweet everythings to each other, exchanging kisses and joke ensued laughter, and simply enjoying each other’s company while entangled in a comfy, cozy embrace.

🧡Leviathan:

It’s the same sort of situation as with Mammon; neither of you were really morning people. But with you two, it was because it came with the terms and conditions of being like minded nerds (as a fellow ‘nerd,’ I mean that term in the best way possible and as a compliment) in which the endgame boss had to be defeated, or that one episode simply could not be missed, or your favorite celebrity/idol was going live and you were not about to be absent for it. Many evenings were spent indulging in both of your favorite hobbies, well into the latest hours of the night and early morning, when you should’ve been sleeping instead.

So of course, mornings were INCREDIBLY ROUGH for the two of you.

In the beginning and a majority of the time, you were the one to wake him up. I hope you can forgive him, though, because almost all of his energy is spent drowning out his negative thoughts and the outside judgement from his own brothers, haters, and toxic fans alike via his hobbies and he doesn’t quite have enough energy to take care of himself, including waking up on time for school or other responsibilities/obligations to avoid getting an ass-chewing from Lucifer... much less waking up on time and then having to wake YOU up.

You had to show him the way, in a sense. You’re his motivation and safety net. Where you go, and ensure his ‘safety’ he delightfully follows. Ergo, you had to be the alarm clock for him, for a while, to be shown that you truly care about him and it’s not all just some exasperating, ridiculously elaborate and heart shattering prank.

Your method of ‘raising the dead’ was to gently comb your hand through his hair while softly beckoning him from his dream world with your sweetest voice to ‘the land of the living.’ His eyes would flutter open and as soon as he saw you with that heartwarming smile, his face would turn a deep crimson and he’d smile back, reaching a hand up to place it over top of yours, somewhat nuzzling into it. “Good morning, my human Henry.” His shy, quiet, gravely voice could melt lava.

Through this method of yours, he no longer woke with animosity for the normie world but was rather hopeful and optimistic, feeling as if nothing could bring him down. Not even his brothers’ insults.

Eventually, he got the hang of it, and he was the one waking YOU up and he did so as sweetly as you had done. He’d place his hand on your cheek, rub his thumb over it, and gingerly place a multitude of kisses atop your head as he whispered your name until you woke.

Some mornings when he was feeling extra giddy, he would place a little speaker near where you had fallen asleep and quietly play your favorite song as he sang along and took hold of your hands to swing them gently to the beat. He saw it once in an anime episode and was hoping it would award him the same giggles the love interest gave the protagonist.

Fortunately for him, it always did.

💚Satan:

Being one of the more mature and responsible brothers, he rarely ever slept in. It’s just in his nature to be an early bird to catch the early worm.. mostly to get it over with so he could get back to doing what he loved most; reading in comfort. Even still, his schedule matched with yours almost perfectly, and that’s due to the fact that, similar to Leviathan, you two were likeminded.

You had the same interests and hobbies so of course, the pair of you grew very close, very quickly. You first linked up for study sessions because celestial realm knows that school in the Devildom was VASTLY different than human world schools, then book club meetings for when you got a little more comfortable with each other’s presence, then as you became even closer, you just decided to do the same things at the same time as it killed two birds with one stone; you got to do what you enjoyed with the person you enjoyed the most.

Mornings to you two were fairly simple and honestly, quite enjoyable with the other being there when you woke.

One morning, Satan took the first step and woke you to the pleasant sound of one of your favorite records echoing from an antique gramophone while placing a tray of your favorite breakfast foods next to the bed. He then leant down, took your hand into his, and kissed from your knuckles, all the way up to your shoulder, and then planting one final, light kiss to your cheek. “My darling MC, it is time to come back to me. Your dreams have had you long enough.”

From then on, you took turns in trying to wake the other in the most romantic ways possible. From your favorite flower’s petals scattering the bed, to his favorite audio books reading him awake. There was nothing that you two wouldn’t do in order to guarantee that the other woke to nothing less than the world on a silver and golden platter.

He was the envy of his brothers especially Mammon, getting to spend so much time with you and having you smile as brightly as you did with him.

💖Asmodeus:

Surprisingly, he’s another early riser. Though when you really think about it, it isn’t quite that surprising, considering he has a strict self-care routine that CANNOT be broken, lest he wishes to end up with a pimple or even worse... a wrinkle! Which neither are bad if you have them, it’s just for Asmo’s personal tastes for his own appearance, he prefers to have none of them.

Because he cares for you so much, he forces sternly asks that you have the same schedule as he does so he can give you the same love and care as he gives himself. He wants you to look and feel as wonderful as who you are on the inside... but he also loves it when you absolutely SHINE.

Please don’t be mistaken, he doesn’t think you’re ugly or unattractive or any other negative thoughts you might have about yourself, in the least. Not at ALL. He simply wishes to amplify what wonderful assets you already have (to your own tastes, of course) because of that oh so magnificent way you carry yourself when you feel your best.

Want to as pretty as a sunset? He’s got you covered. Want to be as handsome as... well, him? You’re covered there too. Want a little mix of any and everything? Oh please, give him a challenge! Whatever look you wish for, he’s there to help you make it happen.

You just have to take his hand and follow his lead. And his lead requires that you be ‘up and at ‘em’ early enough to go through the self-care routine (that he handpicked things for, according to you and your body’s needs), and eat the proper foods so your body and mind can handle the weight of being the most stunning thing to walk the face of any of the realms... besides him, of course. Also, all of this has to happen before school begins.

Unfortunately, that’s pretty early. There’s a LOT of self-care to-do’s that you two have to go through to ensure maximum amplification.

But because he knows that this can be rather overwhelming and a bit stressful to keep up with all of the time (and stress causes physical and mental harm), he’s always sure to make your mornings as pleasant and stress-free as possible.

He lights one of your favorite candles or incenses, and/or turns one of your favorite slower/softer songs on then climbs into bed and over top of you to begin his trails of kisses from the top of your head, down your face, neck and chest, further down your precious tummy, and stops right at your hips to go back up your body and start again. All of this on repeat as he coos and whispers your name, his soothing voice leading you from your dreams to the waking world. When your eyes meet his, he hums “ahh, my dear, you’ve returned to me.” He moves to kiss your lips as sweetly as he speaks.

He then slips his arms underneath you and lifts you up, as if you were one of Lucifer’s feathers, to carry you bridal style into the bathroom. He’ll then set you down and slowly undress you, taking as much time as you need him to, before helping you into the tub and giving you the gentlest of washes you’ve had since before you can even remember.

He’s the most soothing alarm that’s ever existed.

❤️Beelzebub:

Not really an early riser but he’s also not one to sleep in, either. To sleep in means to miss breakfast, and to miss breakfast is a death sentence for himself and anyone in the way of his next meal.

It also means that he doesn’t get to spend his mornings or share breakfast with you. Another death sentence but this one’s for his heart. Even though he might not say it, being that putting his thoughts and feelings into words is a bit harder than his more comfortable/natural way of simply showing you through his actions, he loves you very, very, VERY much.

This man cares so fucking much for you, he’d give up eating for the rest of his life if it meant you got to have a crumb. But he hopes it doesn’t have to come to that.

The way that Beel shows you that he cares is through food. Eating with you, cooking with you, watching you eat to be sure that you’re getting enough food in your own body, taking his time to eat his food because, now, he’s too busy having wonderful conversations with you, and every and anything in between.

One of his favorite ways is breakfast in bed. You had done it once for him before on one of your anniversaries and ever since then, he’s done it for you in return whenever he got the chance.

On mornings that he had waken up early enough, he’d quietly get up and tiptoe to the kitchen to make both of you a delicious breakfast. If Belphegor was up, on the rarest of rare occasions that he was, he’ll make a little something for him too. He’d put together your favorite foods and beverage while doing the same for himself, draw a cute little heart on a small post-it note and placing it on your side of the tray, tip-toe back up to the room and sets it on the nightstand beside the bed, then moves in close to you to start waking you up. He leans in close and peppers your face in little kisses before moving a little lower to your neck and giving his signature, gentle bite. “MC, honey, wake up. I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Nine times out of ten, you wake up in an instant. When you’ve slept heavily during the night and have a harder time waking up, he plops down onto you gently of course as to not squish you and groans in your ear, nibbling them to remind you of who you’re keeping waiting. “MCCC, pleeeease, I’m hungry. Don’t make me eat yours.”

The warning never fails.

As you two chow down, his dimpled smile never leaves his face nor his eyes on you as he watches you enjoy another morning filled with your favorite things: Beel and Beel’s signature breakfast.

💜Belphegor:

Morning? What the hell is a morning?

Yeah, yeah, he knows what a morning is. He’s had to get up for them too many fucking times to count in order to get to school on time.. or at least try. His attendance is, more or less, nonexistent. He’s just not a morning person.

at ALL.

WHAT. SO. EVER.

The one thing ‘Mr. Sandman’ doesn’t do is wake up or get woken up if the awakener values their life

However... if it is you, his favorite walking and talking pillow, he can’t be that pissed about it. It’s a little more of a smooth transition from being asleep to being awake when you’re the one bringing him there.

So, yes, you’re the one waking him up and it’s never the other way around, but you knew this would be your lot in life the closer you had gotten to him.

And yet, whenever you tried to wake him, he’d simply wrap his arm over you and drag you back down onto the bed as he rolls on top of you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “No.” he’d groan in his gravelly morning voice.

What? What did he mean ‘no’ ?! It’s time to get up!!

You’d try your best to to wiggle free but Belphegor is far more stronger than he looks and keeps you pinned down in place. Well... at least it’s comfy.

Wait no, this is his way of coercing you to go back to sleep with him!

Before you can try something else, he plants warm and slow kisses up and down your neck and nibbles at the skin just beneath your ear while whispering in a low tone, “why don’t we just stay here and do something better than go to school?”

Your face heats up and body tenses underneath him. It was not uncommon for him to try this tactic, especially in the morning, so you were fairly used to it but sometimes... sometimes it just does something to you and you’re frozen in place with nothing but his voice to lull you wherever it pleased. Maybe it came with being the Avatar of Sloth? He moves up onto his elbows to deliver his final attack that was his signature, teasing smile in order for him to fully keep you here, in bed, with him and simply enjoy each other’s company while you slept.

Unfortunately for him, this was his mistake and you gained yourself a foothold in pushing him off of you. Getting up from the bed, you look back at him as you straighten your clothes out and fix your hair, saying “Breakfast is in ten minutes,” with a stern voice. You take notice of this and try to sweeten it up to truly convince him. “Be there, won’t you?” you demand more than request, with a signature smile of your very own.

He brings his dropped jaw back up from when you were able to knock him off, and shakes his head as he lightly chuckles. “Whatever you want, MC.” Before you completely walk out of the door, he calls after you. “You owe me!”

You peak back in just enough for him to hear you as you’re closing the door. “No, you owe me.”

[imalwaystiredzzz]

C2: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy. chapters >

“Perhaps you would fear if you saw me, and love is all I ask. There is a necessity that keeps me hidden now. Only believe.” - Cupid and Psyche ══════════════════════════════════

You have a dream; heavy and looming as you carry a boulder on your fragile back. It dares to crush you under its weight, while you trudge up a steep path towards the peak of this mountain. The sun glares with its heat like a guard set to watch your endless labor, sweat trickles down like rain on your skin as you pray for water. 

The relief comes in the form of waking from this endless dream.

Breath. Breath. Breath. You breath as if your lungs were crushed and you had drowned in earth, wondering why the familiar pain of doing so was gone. “Slowly,” smooth like velvet and deep that it reverberates to your being, your dear husband hushes next to you observing for any hint - even a twitch - that you might need help. 

“I felt like I had a really long dream,” you say, sitting up from the warm sheets of your shared bed. 

“Care to tell me what it is about?” He is the epitome of patience practiced and perfected, waiting for your reply; though try as you might to remember what it was, the dream had long  slipped from your mind like sand held between cupped hands, flowing and flowing until nothing is left.

“Have I been asleep long?” Voice groggy and eyes a bit blinded by the light, small hands felt the sheets on his side, the warmth and ghost of his form long gone, your dutiful husband, always awake and dressed before you even rouse from slumber. 

Zhongli leans toward you, his gloved fingers graze your cheeks with tenderness only to tuck a strand behind your ear and it is warm as the morning sun that rises on your window. “It’s alright, I know that you need rest after our move.”

You blush, heart soaring like a pure maiden in love with her suitor even though it is none other than your husband who gives you his full attention. It’s supposed to be endearing. It is endearing. Yet there is an ache at the back of your head, that something is amiss.

His fingers, barely touching your skin, made you think of claws, long and sharp, shining with polish. You brush it aside, under the bed long forgotten in the dark, while you would begin your routine. 

You could say that a day does not begin when you wake, rather it is when you make his tea.

He once told you that brewing is an art no less than painting or writing, it is not a matter of simply sprinkling leaves on a clay pot. It is a meditation and a ceremony practiced to bring forth a harmony of earth and water.

You take his words to heart. You take almost all his words to heart and memorize them the way he recites poems to you before bed. You command air to bring forth an aroma that allures the butterflies and with practiced elegance, you hold the Yixing teapot to pour him his cup while Zhongli is nothing but a spectator to this show.  

There are no words exchanged before he sips. It is a little game between you and him, a show of trust you would like to think. Even the heavens could not imagine Zhongli take abhorrent food, not even for his wife.  

He is nothing but an expert, listing the leaves you secretly used and the flavor in full detail like a practiced line from a play. You’d wager that had he been blessed to borne out of better parents, had he been blessed with a better standing rather than a son of a merchant who had a herbalist like you for a wife, he would have stood as the finest in a world of history and art with those deft amber eyes that miss nothing.

Not even the way you look as he leaves through that door with a kiss. 

A kiss of parting as you wave him goodbye, the wind whispering that this is not your simple husband, who goes down the mountain to sell herbs and trade merchandise in the city. He is your foreign husband, who disappears from your presence and hides a secret deeper than the mines the humans could hope to till.

But who is to listen to the wind? Zhongli tells you that it is nothing but your active imagination and you are nothing but (Y/n) (l/n), a herbalist, who belongs to the soil.

This thought repeats in your head like a broken record and rings in your ear. 

It is spring now, you remember looking up and thanking the clouds and the lush leaves of the tree that hide the harsh glare of the afternoon sun. The grass was evergreen and the wind smell of the oncoming summer heat, fragrant with flowers that bloom in the wild.

In spring, he tells you that a gardener is happy for the harvest is abundant and the lands teems with life. In spring, you should be happy.

The plants are alive and they grow easy, they are not shriveled by the summer heat nor do they hide under the ground because of the winter. The flowers and herbs bloom, almost too perfectly as if the little pots were visited by the dendro archcon themselves in your sleep. 

You are (Y/n) (l/n). In spring, you should be alive.

Yet cannot help but notice the absence of the worms nor ants that you once complained about. Once upon a time, you would be maneuvering them all throughout the day away from the lush green leaves and bountiful earth. And sometimes your imagination would play tricks and whispers of their avoidance.

“What cruel little pest,” you tell the soil while planting new seeds until the sun goes down and hides from the skies, when you light the lamps in the house, but most especially by the door, red and glowing like a star against the vast darkness of this lonely mountain.

Hoping, praying that this simple light will lead him back, if he might ever be lost in the shadows in the road. 

Even before he walks through the door, your ears are listening to the whispers of the air that carries his footsteps as it taps the ground so when he opens the door, you are there with a warm welcoming smile and a kiss to his cheeks, heart calm as you know he is safe and he is here. He is home.

You should laugh, really. Your husband who has mapped this mountain like the back of his hand would never be lost but the anxiousness of it never fades. A perpetual worrier, he would call you with eyes lost, staring at yet never really seeing. You know that he has his moments, he doesn’t mean to show, it is fleeting as it comes and no more than a blink of an eye hence you blink and pretend that you don’t see and lead him by the hand to the table neatly set and filled with warm food. 

You dine as he talks about the people he has met and worked with in the city, how the land has begun to thrive and the mora flowing. He tells you of a harbor, where boats are ever growing in size as the days go by and the merchants travelling to do business within it. As far as you can remember, there was never dinner where Zhongli does not talk endlessly about the city - always proud yet humble like a poem, you would think that he talks about it like a child of his own.

“I wonder when will I see the lights of the city from here.” You don’t know what compelled you to say this, maybe it was the stories that he never ceased to tell, maybe it was the lantern that still hung lit outside and darkness that encloses it like a sky with a single star. He pauses,  struck and still as a statue, he looks at you in a way that you have never seen before. 

This smile is is not warm as the morning sun when you wake; it is not tight and constricted when he leaves; nor is it practiced the way it would fall so easily on his visage like a mask; rather this smile dims the glow in his amber eyes and wrinkles the skin akin to sadness and guilt held back.

He reaches for your hand on the other side of the table and kisses it, tenderly, gently as if you are glass that would break with a tap and this is his silent promise that you feel would never come to fruition, “Maybe one day when you are feeling better.” 

The routine ends when your dear husband leads you to bed, the fire closed and you are both in the dark. Tonight he kisses you with unhinged passion, holding unto your small form against him like you were about to disappear into thin air and he is a stone cage. 

“Is it so selfish of me to keep you by my side and never want to let go?” 

He asked barely a whisper above your skin, like a prayer to a god that never answers while the only thing on your heart was pity for your dear husband’s deep sadness, who was an embodiment tragedy that could make you cry.

Had you been born with a stronger body, maybe then you could promise him tomorrow and the rest of your days yet you are nothing but ephemeral so you don’t speak; simply hold his arms, firm and hard under your touch briefly wondering why you thought of scales, mighty and solid as the unblemished core lapis from deep underneath.  Under your fingertips he is foreign yet familiar, in every wrong and right way possible. “You have enraptured me, body and soul. I will always love you, even after I have long passed”

“Is that what it means to love”

“That is what it means to be human.” 

You fall asleep, long before he does. He holds your hand, tightly. 

Step by step by step. An endless walk as you contemplate: why? What sin so great that you have committed for this to be an equal torture. And yet even as millennium of wondering have passed you don’t know, rather you’ve forgotten, memories and thoughts lost in the pain that seeps into the bone, desert in your throat and the eyes that cannot see the peak of this mountain you climb.

[alby-rei]

Piano Heist (Arthur x MC)

a/n: In which MC can’t resist the urge to steal Mozart’s piano, and Arthur pays for it. 

[Characters]: MC, Arthur, Mozart, and Theo

[Genre]: Comedy with a hint of pining  

[Warning]: One Very Angry Austrian None

~*~

Do you ever get that feeling…?

When the more forbidden something is, the more you really want it?

When all logic and reason tell you to look away, to let go of your inner desires?

What I’m referring to, of course, is the desire to play on Mozart’s precious fortepiano.

Every time I walked by his room, and the sound of his elegant performance drifted through the hallway, I could feel my fingers twitch at the thought of doing the same. And today was no different.

Mozart was out to rehearse with his orchestra, and I was in charge of cleaning his piano room.

Okay, more like I appointed myself in charge of cleaning his piano room.

The more I darted around the magnificent instrument that sat proudly in the middle of the secluded room, the more my mind began to swarm with plans to steal it, to take it for myself. No other piano has made me feel this way…

…except maybe the modern Steinway, but that wasn’t invented yet… 

I circled the piano, shifting my gaze between it and the door. I carefully walked towards the open door that led to the hallway. I leaned against the door frame to scan the hall for any signs of vampiric presence.

None. My mind was set. 

I’m stealing Mozart’s fortepiano.

I looked down at the legs of the piano. It looked like wheels were installed.

Must’ve been recent, perfect! 

I unlocked them, moving behind the piano to start pushing it towards the door. I struggled with the sheer mass of it, but I kept going. I wasn’t going to back out now.

I had about half of it through the double doors barely; it was a tight fit. I winced every time any edge of the piano made even a hint of a scraping sound.

Just then, I heard a low whistle rightward outside of the door. A mop of blue hair peaked inside. Identical blue eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin to match. All the telltale signs of one curious Arthur Conan Doyle.

“What do we have here, luv?”

I brought the piano to an abrupt halt and stood leaning on it casually. 

“…Nothing.”  

“Well, it seems to me a lot like you’re trying to snatch Wolfie’s piano.”

I stared long and hard back at his keen azure eyes, my position unchanging.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He flinched. His grin melted off of his face into something between a grimace and a pout.

“MC!!” He whined, “You know I don’t like being compared to that woman-hating bloke.”

“Shhhhhh!” I attempted to hush discretely and assertively. I paused, on the lookout for any signs of more vampiric movement.  

None.

I rolled my eyes at his insistent snickering.

“I am taking this piano for myself, now are you going to help me, or do I have to eliminate you first?”

“Eliminate me? Last I checked, I won our last bet, and you owe me a favor.”

“You cheated! I called out your loophole and you still haven’t paid up for that.”

“…alright, dove, I’ll relent this time, but I’m not back down from my favor rights.”

The thought of Mozart’s absolutely livid expression when he finds out about this was an utter delight to the resident troublemaker.

“Oi!” I glared at the sudden feeling of contact from a gloved hand, swatting the offensive hand away.

“You’re not getting any favor until this mission is completed, Sir Arthur.”

“Alright, alright. Just don’t call me Sir again. It’s much too formal for us, pretty bird.”

Arthur proceeded to push the piano, flashing a practiced flirty wink to me.

I could not roll my eyes any further back than I already did. This man never rests, does he? Not that I minded.

Not that I would ever admit to him that I did not, in fact, mind it.

‘Focus. Piano. Mine. First.’

“Where are we taking this to anyways?”

“Your room,” I answered instantly, “Duh.”

~*~

It was a long day at rehearsal. Mozart’s entire body ached from standing, conducting, yelling, and just being out in public in general. He rubbed his temples insistently on his carriage ride home with Jean, praying he could just be in his piano room at last.

Arriving after sundown, Mozart made a beeline for his room to change clothes, then to his sacred piano room. He had a stack of sheet music tucked under his arm, as he went to unlock the room.

Wait. It was already unlocked.

Oh no. Oh no.

He opened the door with the force of a hurricane. His lavender eyes wide and enraged. The sheet music scattered on the floor haphazardly.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The vampire composer’s sadness and sorrow could be heard loud and clear in every corner of the mansion. The crows flew off of their tree branches, the squirrels scurried off into the wilderness, and the worms hid beneath the dirt. But none of these creatures were half as terrified as the mansion’s residents.

Well, almost all of the residents.

Two lovely troublemakers leaned against the subject of Mozart’s anguish, laughing hysterically together. We currently settled in Arthur’s room with the hostage piano standing proud, nestled between his bed and his writing desk. The chaise-lounge was moved to the side for space. The fortepiano’s solid white wood contrasted with Arthur’s dark oak furniture, creating a magical air to it. It carried itself like a precious treasure out of a dragon’s den. 

Our laughter died down as I slid Arthur’s chair in front of the guest piano of honor, sitting elegantly as I would in front of an audience. I brought my hands gingerly over the keys, softly pressing to play excerpts of pieces I learned in the 21st century.

Arthur slowly settled into his chaise-lounge on the sidelines. It may have started as a prank, but now he deemed himself the luckiest man in the world to be the sole audience member in this moment.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a furious Mozart loudly announcing his presence in the room next to us. The suddenness of it caused me to strike a harsh dissonant chord that surely reached the composer’s ears.

‘Shit shit shit shit.’

Wordlessly, I flattened myself on the floor and rolled under Arthur’s bed to hide, leaving Arthur to confront Mozart’s rage single-handedly. Luckily for me, Arthur was too caught up by the sound of Mozart’s entrance to notice. 

“Arthur…” Mozart was seething, every word dripped with venom, “what is my fortepiano doing in your room?”

Mozart’s expression was deadly calm, but the intensity in his eyes caught Arthur off-guard.

“Mozart, mate, you see… Me and—” Arthur’s confident aura dissipated as he found no MC behind the piano anymore.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t report you to le Comte.”

Arthur received his second shock of this conversation. His mind swirled with flashbacks to Comte’s relentless scolding and subsequent punishments.

“I… have none. But what I can do is help you return it to its original place.”

THE Arthur Conan Doyle... bargaining? I pressed my lips to avoid making a sound as I shook from laughter.

“Help me?! This is all your responsibility to put back without a single scratch.”

Arthur’s eyes darted for a split second to the edge of the piano.

Uh oh, Mozart noticed.

“ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE, YOU DARE DAMAGE MY PIANO?!”

Needless to say, Arthur would expect an earful from le Comte after the earful he just received from Mozart. Oh, he was definitely going to abuse his favor from MC after this.

Once the sound of their footsteps grew fainter with time, I slowly rolled out to run where no one could hear my laughter that was kept bottled up for the past 30 minutes.

I stumbled a bit as I tried to compose myself in the hallway when—

“Oi, Hondje. What are you off giggling about?”

Despite having calmed down from my previous laughing fit, recalling the past hour’s events got me doubling over in laughter again. I held up a hand as a signal to give me a minute. Theo pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about his time being precious.

“Ok, so basically…”

As I told him everything that unfolded, Theo went from facepalming to slightly shook to cracking a smile at Arthur’s demise.

“You brilliant Hondje,” he chuckled unexpectedly. 

I straightened up and courtsied as dramatically as I could muster with arms outstretched.

“Why, thank you.”

His smirk straighted into a line, his eyes carrying a challenging glint, “Pull that shit on me and I won’t let you go that easy.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try to stop me,” while maintaining eye contact, I pointed a finger at his chest, “you’re next.” 

MC: 1, Arthur: 0

[cosmiclatte28]

7 Minutes in Heaven (Jaehyun x you) 🔞

Okay this is suggestive and not suitable for under 18 readers, so please continue only if you’re going to bear the consequences. No it’s not super smuty, it’s just not a good thing to copy :) 

Warning : don’t kiss random strangers, don’t drink, don’t smoke, wrap up or you’re skipping a nine month bloody day :”)... Jungwoo is your bestfriend, Shy!Jaehyun and you’re bold enough to try new things...

anyways this has been in my laptop for a while, wanted to post it on Halloween but didn’t finish it back then... soooo embrace yourself for a new journey of how it might be like to play 7 minutes in heaven with Jaehyun 

here goes my (suggestive) fanfic... hope this won’t make you cringe

________________________________________________________________

“So…you're saying the boys think I am a pure innocent girl?” You scoff and laugh upon the remark Jungwoo just said.

“Well they don't believe me when I said you're totally different outside campus.” The man with blue hair bashfully looks around the canteen.

You pick up your fork and continue poking in chicken chunks to your small mouth, “And why are you telling this exactly?”

Jungwoo deadpan looks at you and leans closer, “Why don't you proof them wrong? They've labeled you as the boring mechanical engineering girl!”

He slams the table a bit dramatically, to which you shudder.

“Easy… you'll break the table! Well sorry, but they're not totally wrong. I'm a regular mechanical engineering girl, boring, studying all the time, nerd, and just never coming to parties!” you give him a dry chuckle.

“Look this is not the true you! I've known you since high school! I know how crazy the boys were whenever you pass by! I'll be honest there were like 5 hot guys who had crush on you in high school, just that sorry I told them you're not allowed to date yet.” Jungwoo trails off and feels a bit guilty when he finally spills the beans he has been hiding.

Your eyes fly open and your mouth too, you drop your spoon and grunt, “Say that again… you cock-blocked me?!”

Jungwoo closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath, “I'm saving your future! I just don’t want them to you know use you and throw you away…”

You hit the spoon to the metal tray, and it made a good “BANG"

“Surprise surprise you told me this after like I don’t know five years maybe. You made the men who liked me back away before even trying to reach me out! Jungwoo all my life I thought I was the one with problem?! I thought no one likes nerds like me; when I myself believe I am a fun girl!” your rage bubbles up from within.

You feel like crying, all these times you thought you were imperfect, you were never a crush for men, you've dealt with your insecurities. You overcome dark times when you see your friends walking through the hallway, having the spotlight on them. You thought you can never be that just because you're an A-grade-student. You did have Jungwoo standing by your side through high school, and he's a good friend who you cannot see as a man.

Your friendship with Jungwoo is indeed a beneficial one, since both of you love science and calculations. You have a study friend and voila you both made it to you best engineering school!

Just as you thought campus life will be lit, since you can “reset" your image, be the fun student on weekend, and study well on weekdays.

But no. You’re overworked with the tasks and quizzes, and to ensure your scholarship is still there, you need a minimum of 3.0 in GPA and that means you’re saying goodbye to parties and hello to enough sleep.

You're mad now when you think of it. Jungwoo has been a cock-block since grade 10 and maybe until today when he finally realized what he had done.

You massage your temple and look in disgust at your unfinished food.

You push your chair back and stand up, “I am mad at you. I don't feel like eating. Good bye Jungwoo..”

“WAIT! i'm sorry I know I was a jerk… but please let me fix it… give me a chance..” he begs you

Your mind is set already, and you shake your head, “I can fix it by myself. So long” you wave and quickly run to the bathroom.

There you let out your emotion in one of the locked toilets and you pull yourself back when you figure a way out to proof them wrong.

You're not the typical book-worm boring mechanical student. You’re you and that will blow the house on fire tonight.

You wash your face in the sink and pamper up yourself from the messy state. You're a fan of make up and you've always had natural looks over your pretty face.

Quickly you draw back your mascara and eye liners, one smack of lip gloss and you're smiling all the way to your next class. Writing.

Johnny greets you in front of the lecture class, he tells you about the upcoming party Lucas will hold this Saturday and Johnny suggests you come and see what it feels like to have some relaxation and fun. He knows midterm has just ended and he is sure you don't have lies to excuse yourself from the invitation.

“Great guess I can make it. Need that fun nights you know. Any theme?”

“Oh, it'll be a costume party since it’s Halloween.” Johnny explains.

You smirk already having lots of ideas in your mind. “Okay see you there then!”

“Nice! Dress up nicely, it's a competition!”

You give him two thumbs up.

--

“Sooo what are you going to wear?” Jungwoo finally gets to talk to you after trying so hard to win your forgiveness.

“I am not going as your couple okay.. I’m going simple this time. I don't want to try too hard.” You smile remembering how you're always prepared for costume parties.

“Let me see, I’ve won Bonnie and Clyde costume… last year we showed up as marry Poppins. Now I just want to enjoy the party.” You plop into your bed and stretch. The party is tomorrow night and Jungwoo is staying over tonight because he needs to finish his costume.

“What? Tell me…” he asks while sticking his props to you don't really know what costume is he going with.

“see me tomorrow okay…”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes when he sees what you appear with tomorrow.

“Seriously?! You’re keeping it a secret. Just to come to the party dressed as a Ravenclaw student!”

You turn around to final check your appearance. Well coming as a Ravenclaw is what you want today.

Jungwoo is by your side ready in his F1 racer costume.

Everything as fun and cool you're having a blast when you see Jungwoo's frats brothers. One man caught your attention when he looks so cute in his Slytherin costume. Your eyes dilate when he flashes a smile to another person, but you caught the smile.

“Whew that is hot.” You whisper to yourself and keep your eyes on him. You never hear Jungwoo talking about him, but seeing him seated nicely between Doyoung and Taeyong, you knew he belongs in that frats. Doyoung and Taeyong are the boys from your music class and they're your best friend.

“hey (y/n)!! Come! We’re playing spin the bottle!” Johnny calls you over to join the table full of 23 men and several girls lounging over the empty seat.

You bring yourself to the seat next to Jungwoo and you're face to face with the cute slytherin boy.

You fix your skirt and calmly cross your legs while watching the man's reaction across you. He was caught watching you but when your eyes met, he quickly averts his gaze away and drinks his cup.

The game starts and you're drowned in alcohols. Well when they ask you stupid personal questions, you're shy to answer, you choose to drink.

Jungwoo keeps on telling you to stop, “Hey enough! You downed three shots .. too fast girl.” He holds your hand before you chug another shot.

Johnny sends a smug look, “Hey Jungwoo why don't you be her dark horse? If you think she drank too much, take a double shot.”

Jungwoo is not the best alcohol drinker and he needs to make sure you got home safe, before he can open his mouth a deep voice makes the whole room move their head to face him.

“I'll take her shots.” The Slytherin boy downs two cups like they were nothing and you catch his ears turning red.

“Thank you…” your voice trails off.

“It's Jaehyun,” he winks.

You pop your lips, “Yeah Jae, thanks!”

The room cheers and starts throwing cat calls to the two of you. You remain calm while deep inside your heart you're dying to squeal and bury your face. Jaehyun on the other side is also turning red, but his sweet smile is still there.

The bottle spins again and this time it points to Jaehyun and he chooses dare.

“Okay Okay this is gonna be fun!!” Mark claps his hands after him and Johnny whisper about the plan.

“Jae, you and the person across you go in that closet and do the 7 minutes in heaven thing… or drink” Johnny clicks his tongue. The room cheers and you can see it's you they meant ..

“Across me?” Jaehyun rubs his neck slowly, he somehow feels shy around you.

“Yeah (y/n)!” Doyoung punches his shoulder, “I'm doing it if I were you"

Taeyong claps his hands and pushes Jaehyun to stand up.

“Just do it!” someone else is also pushing you, it was Lucas.

You did not object and just shrug your shoulder.

Without further ado, you and Jaehyun are forced into the small closet.

They close the door and gosh you hear a click.

It’s dark inside, but somehow there’s a good air circulation at least you two won’t die out of breath.

You can’t really see him, but with the small lights penetrating through the space, you swear your heart is beating super fast. He looks ethereal.

“You good? Sorry they did this to you.” Jaehyun starts the conversation.

You let out a small chuckle, “No..it's fine. I'm okay… I’m not claustrophobic nor afraid of the dark.”

He laughs nervously, “Nice, me too.”

“Thanks for taking my shot earlier.” You try to break the thin air.

“No problem,” he fidgets with his fingers.

“So… are you gonna kiss me or we're keeping this safe?” you slap yourself for saying that out loud. Jaehyun swears he thank the darkness that his burning red face is hidden.

He chokes and coughs, you quickly apologize “Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you. Look, I thought you were the kind of guys who will just be straight forward and keep things casual.”

Jaehyun laughs, his laugh sounds sweet you almost melt.

“And I thought you're a shy quiet innocent girl.” He licks his lips. Well he's fast in reading the atmosphere and he knows if the time is right, he'll get that lips he has been eyeing since you entered the room.

You feel your cheek warming, “Ah.. yeah sorry Maybe you don’t see me interesting. I'm just the boring-"

“no. You're not. Girl you're not what people say.”Jaehyun cuts your sentence.

His hands cup your cheeks, “You're brave and oh I am the shyest boy here and I just like girls like you.” He blurts it out.

You feel your heart clench, really a handsome man like him who can win every girl's heart with one smile and wink… is a shy boy?

“You're telling me... you're a shy boy.. even when you can win the girls with one wink and a smile.”

He blushes, “Well… did I win your heart like that??”

You sigh, “Actually you won my heart with the Slytherin coat and you did toss me a smile. My heart somersault when you took my shots.”

He chuckles, “Can I make a confession?”

You nod, “Sure, what happens here stays here.”

He leans closer and whispers, “I've never kissed a girl before and you too look cute little Ravenclaw.”

Your eyes linger to his plump wet lips, you bite yours. Oh gosh you were also a virgin! You've never kissed anyone, but you're going to break that image, right? Tonight, Is the right time you guess.

“May I?” you ask. Fuck the stereotype girls can also start kisses.

Jaehyun did not reply anything instead he brings his hand to cup your face and with one hand in your chin he leans in to mold his lips into yours.

You feel electricity running in your body and your mind is full of stars. Your stomach is doing things and oh you regret not kissing him sooner. His lips indeed taste good and the way he holds your neck is enough to make you squirm.

You open your mouth and his tongue slips in. You're loud. You swear anyone could hear the two of you making out. But his soft touch and his slow head movement makes you crave more.

He almost pulls back thinking you don't want this, but you're faster. You push yourself to him more and run your fingers to his hair. You play with his hair according to how your body tingles by his kiss.

He pulls back to take a short breathing and you smile when the two of you just lean on the walls and take in as much air as you can. Jaehyun feels like crawling into a hole, he just had an intense first kiss with you, the girl he secretly put interest in for the last six months.

“Was I good?” he glances to you.

You smirk, “If this is what I’ll get every time we kiss, I’m addicted already.”

He scoots closer and in that small room, he manages to pull you up on his lap. You chuckle but follow his game.

“Can I taste that soft cherry again?” he whispers hoarsely, and you shudder. Hey, weren’t you going to show how not innocent you are but why are you so pliant and shy under this Shy Slytherin boy?

You peck his lips, “I'm afraid our seven minutes timer is up.”

He brings his hands to your waist, “No one is opening the door yet for us. Might as well seize the opportunity.”

You chuckle, “Good at bargaining huh?” and you lean in for another hot make out session.

“So… can we two be a thing?” he asks with his wet swollen lips.

You put your hands on his shoulder “I don't know. Can a Ravenclaw date a Slytherin?”

He laughs at your obsession of Harry Potter. “I don’t know. Should we test it?”

You bend your neck and hide it on his neck. Inhaling a quick whiff of his musk cologne.

“Well I don’t see anything wrong in trying..”

“I wish I could see your face now. Because right now.. my face is burning… “

“I can feel your heartbeat Honey,” you giggle as you plant your palm over his fast heartbeat.

“Slow down or you'll get a heart attack.” You rub his shoulder blades

“It's getting hot here or is it just me?” he fans his hand

You knock your hand to the door and yell, “Hey guys it's been more than seven minutes! We need air.”

You hear someone shuffle to the door and unlocks it.

You did not move from his lap, you wait til that person is out and when you hear no one else is in the room, you kick the door opens.

Lights come into your peripherals and you quickly close the big room's door.

Jaehyun tosses you a questioning look

You shrug your shoulder, “Happiness can be found even in the darkest place when one turns on the lights.”

“Such a fanatic here!” he picks you up and pushes you to the wall. You can see his starry eyes now under the lights and oh gosh they were so pretty.

You can see his deep dimple showing whenever he gives you a side smile and your hands find their way to cup his face.

Like casted by the love potion you bend your neck to kiss him. His lips is an addiction and you're blaming the alcohol for whatever happens afterward.

“I guess you're going home alone Woo,” Lucas said when he passed by the locked room and his face turns red upon hearing the sinful noises.

Jungwoo chugs down another drink, “Let her, she's big enough to take care of herself.”

“And why are you not bringing her to parties sooner? I thought she was the regular boring student.” Haechan was jealous of Jaehyun. Hell, he found you super intriguing too.

Jungwoo smirks, “Told you she’s not like the others.”

Lucas pats his shoulder, “And you're not the one getting laid. Be patient okay…”

Jungwoo laughs out loud, “Hell no, we're bestie since long time. I can’t see her as a woman. We’re good. Jae can have her.”

Jaehyun looks hot without his coat and after climbing down the high. The best one you two ever had. You were laying down on the big mattress staring to the ceiling and catching breaths with Jaehyun beside you.

“Do you think Jungwoo will hate me?” Jaehyun picks out a cigarette box he found in the closet earlier.

You shake your head, “He'll be happy I got laid finally.”

Jaehyun huffs a cloud of smoke, you ask him “you think the boys will think of me as less? Like maybe they see me as the same cheap sl-"

Jaehyun presses a finger over your lips “No. They don't and won't. They are not that type of men. They respect women's choices. In contrast, I’m sure if they hear our story, they’ll be jealous.”

A small smile comes to your lips, the naughty side of yours is awake. “Oh yeah? Then try it. Tell them about us and see if they're jealous.”

Jaehyun offers you the stick of cigarette, you're not a new smoker. Actually, you smoke sometimes to relax, you smoke a special herbal one… and this is one of it.

“Whaoh you're not a newbie?” he sounds surprised when you did not cough after taking the first smoke.

“I did sometimes the herbal ones.” You blow a cloud of smoke.

“Funny how we have a lot in common, but we just know one another tonight.”

You smile, “in seven minutes actually.”

He hugs you from the side, “Yeah the best seven minutes in heaven.”

*op hides in the corner* end 

how is it??? aaaa I guess it’s soo bad :”)

[roobylavender]

There is post I saw that was talking about never being able to go back to your past self and I’ll admit it made me think of Jason Todd and his characterization as Robin, but in extension it also made me think of Barbara Gordon and by extension the rest of Batfamily. Like I’m trying to go through a list of them and I don’t feel like there are any members who have that sense of characterization of there being a before and after and perhaps that is because most of the characters either has a solo that was ongoing or had a more easier to manage or a put together history so it is not like major conflicting personalities. Steph had a Batgirl run that was pretty solid and Cassandra of course had her long solo and then Tim and etc. Dick’s history as both Robin and Nightwing is vast so you can pull from a lot of different sources, but Jason’s tenure as Robin isn’t very long and is complicated and same with Barbara’s history as Batgirl. And even so like Jason’s characterization between Robin and Red Hood is the most obvious but Barbara also had like this real change that a blog described it as like this shift from open and unapologetically happy Batgirl to the anonymous brooding spymaster in her lair. The fact that you can’t go back to who you used to be and you can’t force yourself into who you used to be and you just have to adapt and hope you are loved for who are becoming/are feels like a theme that could have been explored a lot more. Like the circle of who Barbara and Jason knew was so small like all they really had at times was Dick or Bruce and then Jim and maybe an outside person that came and went. It just reminds me of like the idea that sometimes when you go grow this period of change happens that certain people get left behind because you are no longer the version they wanted of you or etc. Idk Barbara is frustrating and hard for me because she has a great concept and has some issues that I enjoy but as a whole it feels like her primary writers like Simone and Dixon missed something and I can’t figure out what it is and maybe it is the ‘not like other girls ness’ or maybe it is something else idk. While Jason is another bag of worms because like his Red Hood concept is cool but writing execution is poor.

i still think a lot about how nick robles was set to collaborate with a writer (i forget who) on a miniseries with the two of them where barbara would fit into an older sister role and how there might have been potential there to explore that shared experience between them of changing dramatically and feeling like the person you used to be has been forgotten to everyone but you.. i really wish their relationship was more capitalized on and in ways that mattered too