#turning normal shit into one big dramatic experience

[hyewka]

i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

[lilpomelito]

“What's wrong with Pop music?”

Eddie stops mid rant and spins around. Steve is sitting upside down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, his silky hair touching the floor.

“I mean,” Steve continues, his voice a little strained by his position, “if so many people like it, there has to be something good about it, right?”

Eddie shares a look with Jonathan, hoping to find an ally, but the man looks zonked out of his mind. Argyle really brought the good shit with him.

“That's not the point, Stevie,” Eddie explains as he sits down on the floor next to the guy's head. “It's popular because it's the only shit the big corpos are pushing on the radio. It's what everyone listens to, so everyone thinks they have to like it to be liked. To be accepted. And it's not even good music! Where's the artistic merit in cheap studio synthesizers mixed with braindead lyrics like wake me up before you go go?"”

Steve frowns. “Not all popular music is like that. Also what's wrong with wanting to be liked?”

“Do you not like Freddie Mercury?” Robin gasps, lifting her head from Steve's stomach, and she sounds heavily offended.

Eddie blinks for second, confused as to where the conversation has suddenly turned. But Steve nods, apparently following her line of reasoning.

“Yeah, man. Queen is like, the most popular band in history. Do they not have artistic merit?”

“No, of course not, that's not what I–”

“And the government is not conspiring to push pop music, Eddie, we've seen they're too busy experimenting on children and opening portals to a parallel dimension,” Robin says.

“What about Bowie?” Steve says. “You loved Labyrinth. Didn't shut up about it for like a week. He's pop!”

“The point,” Eddie insists, flustered, avoiding to watch directly Steve's upside down smirk, “is forced conformity. Queen are all nerds! Bowie is a huge nerd. Where would they be now if they had played high school football?”

Jonathan nods slowly, but doesn't comment.

“What about astronauts?” Nancy asks, from where she's sitting at Johnathan's feet. “They're nerds, yes, but they also have to be in great physical shape. I bet most of them were athletes in school.”

“Yeah, totally!” Steve nods. “Remember Casey Johnson? He was captain of the basketball team when I was a freshman. He was valedictorian, and I think he went to Standford on a sports scholarship!”

“Yeah, I remember him,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “One of my friends had a huuuuge crush on him.”

Steve's cheeks go red. He incorporates himself, despite Robin's protests, and sits on the couch like a normal person.

“Whatever. He was a nerd and an athlete. What's conformist about that?”

Eddie stares at him, narrowing his eyes. “Nothing, I guess. Or everything. He succeeded at academia, which was designed to shape kids into exploitable workers under capitalism—”

Jonathan groans behind him.

“—and made captain in a sport that's basically throwing balls into laundry baskets and calling it strategy. Praising people for that to the point where schools are giving scholarships is a little too much.”

“You try it, then, man,” Argyle calls from where he's laying on the rug, star shape style. “I bet you ten bucks you can't win at throwing laundry into baskets against Steve. Or my boy Lucas.”

Robin laughs maniacally. “Oh, I want to see that! Steve please destroy him, his ego needs a little humbling.”

The conversation moves on after that, since everybody looks like they're already over Eddie's rant. He doesn't mind, really. It's fun to ramp up the dramatic indignation against The Man, or whatever. It always causes a reaction, and even people who agree with him somewhat eventually hit a limit. Eddie likes to stick his finger and find that limit.

But not Steve. He's looking at Eddie like he's fascinating.

“You're a hypocrite.”

Eddie falters, biting down a smirk. “How come?”

Steve scoots a little closer. “You want to be a rockstar. You don't just want to live off making music. You want to be famous. You want people to like you.”

Eddie stares at him for a second, frozen in place.

“That's not—”

But Steve smiles, gentle. “That's alright. We all do. And you want to know a secret about being popular?”

Eddie can't resist. For all he protests about popularity and conformity and being so normal everybody likes you, he does wonder what it feels like to be on the other side. So he nods.

Steve smiles sadly. “It doesn't actually change anything. You think it means more people like you, but it just means more people are aware of you. What you do, what you say. Who are your friends, who you date. Where you go, when you go there. And at some point you feel like you can't escape it. And yeah, you do start to conform to the norm. Not because you think it's what's best but because you're so aware of people's opinions of you that you always choose the path of least resistance.”

Eddie... has never considered that. He moves a little closer to Steve as his voice goes quiet.

“You think it was fun to run into a random suburban mom in the grocery store and have her be furious at me because I was dating Susan Davis? Who apparently was her daughter's cousin, and she had a crush on me, and was planning on asking me to prom? How on earth was I supposed to know that? And she was double mad that I didn't even know who her daughter was. Like there's two hundred kids in Hawkins High. I can't know everyone!”

Eddie tries not to laugh, because Steve seems upset by this, but the situation is kind of ridiculous.

“And I think they got into their heads that because they knew of me I was supposed to also know them. But they didn't actually know me. I made prom King, people were mad. I was captain of the basketball team, people were mad. I then turned down being captain of the swim team and was just co-captain, people were still mad. I took a job, and people made fun of me. I lost that job because the mall caught on fire, people also made fun of me. I took another job, and people say I'm "wasting my potential", whatever that means. I don't know man. I think you can never win with people.”

Eddie grabs Steve's hand, touching softly his palm. It seems to work, and Steve relaxes a tiny bit under his touch.

What Steve said sounded exactly like what Eddie was talking about: the pressure to be what society wants, not what you want. He can tell it's a touchy subject for Steve, who has been under the crushing spotlight of being a relatively small town's golden boy.

So Eddie doesn't push any further.

“You got me there, though,” he says.

Steve smiles again. “Yeah?”

“Yeap,” Eddie nods. “I do want to be a famous rockstar. I do want to be known and liked and admired. I've never had that. But I guess you're right. We can't have it both ways.”

Robin, who up to that point had been discussing with Argyle the difference between an oboe and a clarinet, jumps in. “It's the horrifying ordeal of being known.”

Steve laughs. Eddie can't help it, his laugh is too contagious. He can't understand how people in this hellscape of a town ever looked at this boy and thought "he's not enough." With him? He gets it. Eddie's list of failures is a mile long. But Stevie? Sunshine incarnate, puppy-eyed, bitchy beautiful and smart Steve Harrington? There's nothing to complain about.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 34: Fitz's Curtain Call

Previous Masterlist Next

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity

"So here's how I see it, sir," said Fitz, walking down the hallway of the auction house alongside Miss Lily. "You want money, a motivation I'm well equipped to understand. I want an easy life with a rich, soft-hearted vampire. Putting aside the part where you kidnapped and brainwashed me, our interests align."

"They do indeed," said Miss Lily with a wicked grin. "I'm so glad you turned out to be so very reasonable."

Fitz, of course, was trying to cover up his terror with bluster, a technique he had honed very well over years of confidence schemes. He could feel the tug of the vampire thrall, feel it dampening his urges to escape or resist, feel it lulling his mind into submission. And it felt good, that was the worst part about it -- so easy to let his mind drift away from him, to dream about his newfound desire for fangs to sink deep in his neck. That particular fantasy was hard to deny, something akin to hunger or lust, filling his all too eager thoughts with the image of offering himself, and --

Shit. He had to stay focused. God damn these annoying, powerful, sexy, desirable vampires.

The enthrallment he'd been placed under hadn't done enough for his nerves. He still felt like he did the night before a big opening. Normally, the danger of an audience not liking him was that he'd be going hungry. Now, the danger was much, much more acute.

"Penny for your thoughts?" said Miss Lily, ruffling his hair. "You think too much for a thrall."

"Yes, the blessing and the curse you've afforded me," he said. "...Not that I'm complaining about the spell I'm under. Sir." He was fairly certain he still had something like wit to his name, and didn't want to encourage Miss Lily to change her mind on that point.

"So then, what are you thinking about?"

"The preparations for your little vampire soiree, sir," he said. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to take a shower and comb my hair. After all, it might be my final curtain call."

"So dramatic." Miss Lily laughed. Well, easy for her to do when she wasn't the one being sold. "Don't worry, you have an appointment with our chief stylist."

Fitz's eyes narrowed. He watched as a vampire led a group of empty-eyed thralls down the hall, all of them dressed in simple linens and looking like they hadn't been washed in days. "Are you serious about having a chief stylist, or are you pulling my leg, sir?"

"Oh, I'm very serious. I told you several times that you're prize merchandise."

"Lovely. So how does one style prize merchandise for vampires, sir? Am I going to be trussed up and placed on a silver platter, with an apple in my mouth for garnish?"

"No."

"Of course not, the platter wouldn't be silver. Gold, then, sir."

"It's actually traditional for high quality thralls to be put in fancy ball dress to be sold off."

"Well, you're in great luck, sir. Despite my intimidating masculinity, I actually pull off a dress very well." He was speaking from experience on this, as he'd had to wear all sorts of women's costumes for various theatrical and hiding-from-cops reasons. "They're all very low cut, I assume, to better show off the neck?"

"Oh, you do catch on quickly."

Miss Lily showed him in to a large, sumptuous dressing room, the kind that would be the envy of any of the small-time theaters he'd performed in. There was an impressively formidable vanity covered in all sorts of makeup, some of it very expensive-looking, but what really caught Fitz's eye were the racks of elaborate ball gowns. Miss Lily certainly wasn't pulling his leg about that particular detail.

"Hello, Florence!" said Miss Lily with the cheer of a woman who was about to have a very lucrative evening. "I've brought my special project for you!"

"Special project indeed," said the older woman, scrutinizing Fitz with a practiced eye like a jeweler appraising a stone. "Well, he's handsome, at least."

"Oh, you've got a good eye," said Fitz with a grin. "It's vitally important that I'm dressed to impress, sir, and I want to accentuate my finer points, of which I have many. Whatever will make me irresistible to Miss Lily's friend with the deep pockets."

Miss Florence's eyebrow lifted. "This is the thrall you're preparing for Alexander?"

"Alexander keeps telling me he wants a companion thrall, one who reads and plays instruments. He hates the recent trend of meek and muted thralls," said Lily. "Fitz here is very much the opposite."

"Exactly, sir," said Fitz, strangely eager to please these vampires, launching into his little spiel. "I can read, I can play guitar, I can do magic tricks, I can do real magic if you give me enough preparation time, I can tell your future, I can juggle oranges, I can wash windows, bake bread, mend fences, sew, and I play a mean game of poker. Plus, the handsome face, of course."

"Oh, my dear sweet devil. Be quiet, young man," said Miss Florence, placing her hand on his head, and suddenly he felt a deep compulsion to follow her command and stay perfectly still. She was looking him over more closely now. "He's far more charming when he shuts his mouth."

"They say that about me, too," said Miss Lily. "Perhaps that's why we get on so well."

Fitz couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. He did respect Miss Lily, in a way, apart from the thrall that was placed on him. She played a good con game, and judging by the sheer expense of the outfit she had on tonight, she was raking in the cold, hard cash. Selling people for money was several bridges too far for him, but in another life where she weren't a vampire and had at least a faint impression of a moral compass, they could've gotten along.

"Anyway, I'll leave him in your capable hands," said Miss Lily. "Despite his talkative streak, you have absolutely nothing to fear from him in terms of obedience. He's a pushover to any kind of thrall, or even simply praise and flattery."

And any good thoughts about Miss Lily evaporated, as Fitz scowled at being described as an easy mark. It was far more true than he'd like it to be.

"Is that so?" said Miss Florence, petting his hair. "Can you be docile and still for me, child?"

"Yes, sir," he heard his voice say, meek and mild. He already hated Miss Florence's powers, his words catching in his throat and his muscles disinclined to obey his commands. The forced meekness and artificial calm made him feel so vulnerable. But he had no choice but to allow himself to be led to the dresses. Miss Florence was rummaging about, pulling this and that dress and putting them together on a rack.

"Here, I've put out appropriate dresses that could potentially fit and which might appeal to Miss Lily's friend with the deep pockets, as you so crassly put it," she said. "Go ahead and pick which one appeals to you."

Several days of thrall and prison related brain fog had made Fitz's decision-making skills -- dubious at the best of times -- particularly rusty. He didn't really know anything about his prospective buyers. He didn't really know anything about vampires and what would appeal to or discourage them, apart from necks pumping with blood. He could choose based on his complexion and hair, but --

"Focus, child. What calls to you?"

Fitz could feel Miss Florence's power over him lifting a bit. "I need to know what is most likely to appeal to the best target buyers, sir," he said. "For example, if older vampires are more well-mannered, I might go with older styles, but if --"

"You should choose what you want to wear. It's the only choice I allow thralls to make in this room," she said, her irritation apparent.

"Sir, what I want to wear is whatever will help me avoid being chained in a dank basement by a sadist, or a surgical removal of my personality, or -- " Fitz felt the spell being cast on him again, stopping his voice. 

"I'll allow you to try this one more time. You are to choose what you want. Not what you think an unknown patron would want, or what Miss Lily thinks you need to wear. What you want."

What he wanted? Fitz could start with freedom, even a few more days of it. That night of the magic show could easily be his last night as anything resembling a free man, and for all he knew, tonight was the last night he'd get to laugh and joke and pretend as though everything was fine.

When it came to what he wanted, a fancy ball dress didn't rate very high on his list of priorities.

Pointing this out would simply get him another swift dose of thrall dampening his voice, so instead he did what she wanted and perused the rack for something that might look flattering on him. If this was truly going to be his last night as anything resembling Phantom Fitz, he might as well go for the flashiest dress available.

Or perhaps he'd be purchased by a vampire who would appreciate his dramatic flair and show him mercy.

Perhaps he'd be purchased by a vampire who would appreciate breaking a confident human.

Regardless of the risk, he pulled out a very low cut dress made of crushed velvet in a deep red shade, the color of fresh blood, with golden trim. It was a stunning gown, exactly the sort of thing he might find alluring if he were a bloodsucking fiend. It was also suitably dramatic for a night that felt like both a beginning and an ending.

He checked the bust area as he looked it over, wondering how much padding he might need to wear with it, if it would accommodate him at all -- and he realized that it actually seemed cut for a man's figure. It did make sense that they stocked gowns cut this way, if they expected all of the fancy grade-A thralls to wear them.

"There you go," said Miss Florence, laying her hands on his shoulders, the hypnotic silence settling over his mind once more. "Now drop, and be calm and utterly still for me."

It was like cotton fluff filling his mind, dampening his thoughts. He could feel himself straining against it, so anxious from not being able to process and plot and scheme, but with no way of expressing that. He expected the peaceful nature of Miss Florence's power might be nice if he actually relaxed, but he had no intention of doing so. Not here. Not when so much was at stake.

He was pulled along into a bathroom, where he was unceremoniously stripped and dunked in a bathtub, scrubbed thoroughly with a thick pink bar of floral-scented soap. It felt nice to be washed, and he felt himself zoning out despite his resolve, mind wandering to the dreams Miss Lily had filled his head with. Dreams of the life he could live with a handsome and permissive vampire, of nights in an elegant mansion with a mysterious, dark master. The best case scenario.

Miss Florence sitting him down in front of a mirror and producing a pair of long scissors was what snapped him out of it. His golden hair, the feature he was so vain about -- and she was going to -- He heard himself involuntarily make a sound of distress, mind clawing against the vampire's spell.

"Oh, hush now, child," she said, as if she were talking to a fussy little boy getting his first haircut. "I have more experience cutting hair than any human barber."

While that was likely true, that didn't stop Fitz's chest from tightening as she chopped his hair far shorter than he liked to keep it. Vampires didn't want to have to deal with hair maintenance, he supposed, another unwelcome reminder of how little freedom he would have.

It was only hair. There were more important things to be concerned about. But his heart ached.

After rubbing his skin with sweet-smelling lotions, she brought him back into the main room and took out a small measuring tape. She began obsessively measuring every possible part of his body, from around his head to the size of his feet, in a way that seemed almost more like a ritual than an efficient way to measure him for a dress. Every time she brushed him, he felt the cottony prison for his mind growing thicker and more inescapable.

He was at least lucid enough to remember how to put on the undergarments required to wear fancy women's dress, with some assists from Miss Florence, particularly where it concerned the corset. Soon, the gown was being slipped over his head, and he found himself staring into his reflection in a large floor mirror as Miss Florence made adjustments to the dress here and there.

He looked stunning. And not just in the way he tried to convince himself every morning in the mirror, papering over his many flaws with cheap vanity. No, he actually looked fantastic in the deep red gown.

He only wished it were for a show and not for being sold to vampires.

And then the tailoring was done and he was whisked off to the vanity, Miss Florence applying makeup with a practiced hand. She was doing a much lighter look than the stage makeup he often applied himself, just enough to accentuate his skin.

"Now then, child, focus on me," said Miss Florence, dangling a ruby pendant in front of his face. It reminded him of the fatal pendant Miss Lily had used on him in his ill-fated five dollar bet. "You will remain calm during the auction."

Fitz felt something in him tug hard against that idea. How could he possibly remain calm when...

Miss Florence put a firm hand on top of his head, slowly swinging the pendant in front of his eyes. "You will remain calm during the auction. Repeat."

"I will remain calm during the auction, sir," his own voice droned.

"You exist to be a vampire's thrall. Repeat."

No, no, he was so much more than... "I exist to be a vampire's thrall, sir."

"You will know true obedience."

"I will know true obedience, sir." He could practically hear the echo of Miss Lily's voice convincing him how rewarding and pleasurable obedience would be. It had never been his strong suit. But the trance locking his mind said otherwise.

"Now, here is your final gift," said Miss Florence, taking his wrists with gentle hands, and snapping golden handcuffs around them. "You'll feel so much better once you've been sold off to a proper master, child. I can tell."

The amount of mesmeric power he was under made his twinge of despair seem distant, a storm cloud far away on the horizon. "Yes, sir."

Previous Masterlist Next

Next week is Christmas, so I plan to post a few Christmas specials (including at least one for Rare Bookseller) instead of a new part of the main story! The main story will resume in the new year, but until then, I have various AUs, asks, and a brand new series I hope to post.

Thanks for all your support for this silly little vampire story! I'm truly grateful for the reception I've had.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king

[acespec-ed]

Writing Asexual Spectrum Characters

By a gray ace who occasionally writes for funsies.

I get the feeling people think writing an asexual spectrum (acespec) character is easy. Easier than writing a straight-up asexual character. After all, many people under the ace spectrum can feel sexual attraction. Plenty are cool with being in a sexual relationship. So, just have the character mention they’re gray ace, or an asexual who enjoys sex, and leave it at that.

I’m not discouraging any allos from writing acespec characters, quite the opposite! But there’s a reason acespecs who do feel sexual attraction, or do want sex, still call themselves some flavor of ace. There are certain things gray aces go through that an allo might be unaware of. Like, the experience of feeling sexual attraction.

An allosexual character (adult ones anyway) tends to view sexual attraction as this natural thing that just occurs. They seem to be used to it, even though there’s usually a Big Deal about it being made in the story. But that Big Deal is moreso related to the character they’re sexually attracted to. And the situation that puts them in with that character. The fact they’re experiencing sexual attraction itself though, isn’t a Big Deal.

Most acespecs don’t work like that. An acespec experiences it rarely, weakly, or under specific circumstances.

An acespec who experiences sexual attraction rarely, is going to make sexual attraction itself a Big Deal. Since it’s so rare, it’s very off putting. It confuses the shit out of us. We don’t know what to do. We don’t know what’s okay and what’s not okay. What’s “normal” and what’s not. We are lost at sea! If this acespec character is one who experiences it rarely, the experience of feeling sexual attraction itself is going to be a Big Deal. Not to say the Big Deal isn’t also the situation that attraction puts the character in. But we’ve got a Big Deal on top of an already Big Deal and you’re gonna be drowning in conflict!

It’s likely to be a similar case to acespecs who only experience it under certain circumstances. Demisexuals, for example. For the most part, demisexuals function as asexual until they develop a special bond for a person and then BAM! They get smacked in the face with a big ol’ heaping pile of sexual attraction. They are also lost at sea, depending on how often they experience sexual attraction.

Acespecs who experience sexual attraction weakly, are going to have a hard time knowing if they’re even experiencing sexual attraction. They tend to question if what they’re feeling is sexual attraction or not. (And most the time, it’s probably not.) Maybe their libido went off while looking at a person, and now they’re trying to conjure up sexy thoughts to figure out if that was sexual attraction. Or maybe their libido did nothing, but they had a sexy thought about the person, and are wondering if that counts as sexual attraction. Maybe they actually know it was sexual attraction, but they just didn’t feel it strong enough to feel any innate desire to act upon it. Basically, this character is highly unlikely to get into any conflict involving the character of desire without some kind of outside intervention from other characters. (One exception might be to get closer to the character to figure out what kind of attraction they’re feeling.)

As for aces who don’t feel sexual attraction but still have sex? They might experience stuff like aesthetic, sensual, and/or romantic attraction. They’ll most likely have a preference towards having sex with someone they feel some attraction to. But they won’t feel sexual attraction for the person. They’ll likely have sex with the person because they’re turned on in general, or want to know what’s like, or they want to make them happy. Just, any reason that doesn’t involve actual sexual attraction towards the person. They’re not going to feel a need to dramatically rip the other person’s clothes off and start going at it then and there. They’ll just go along with things as they happen. They’re more likely to focus on whether they’re doing things right, or on how good the actions feel. They might think about how their partner is aesthetically attractive. Or that they’re in love with them or whatever. They may dig the emotional intimacy they’re getting out of it. If they’re easily distracted, they might start thinking of completely unrelated things. But they’re unlikely to think of how much they want to fuck their partner in particular. 

We also share similar problems to strict asexuals. Even though some of us do experience sexual attraction, there’s the matter of finding someone we’re even sexually attracted to! Or, sexually attracted enough to even pursue the feelings, or share that feeling with our partners. We’re less likely to initiate sex. We’re more likely to be content going without. There’s always exceptions though, especially if the ace has a high libido. Outside of relationships, people can be dismissive of our orientations. Some might think we have a problem that needs to be “fixed,” while others might think we’re being a bunch of special snowflakes and are actually just “normal.” Some of us grew up feeling “broken” until we discovered the ace spectrum. Some of us didn’t realize we were experiencing attraction differently than allos. Some of us didn’t even realize sexual attraction was a thing. 

So, all of that is worth keeping in mind as you go on to develop your acespec character and any situations you throw them in where their experiences as an acespec affects things. You’ll find that it’ll make a more interesting story than simply slapping an acespec label on an otherwise allo character.

Good luck! 💜

[thebookishbruja]

Howl’s Moving Castle

Spoilers!!

So, I finished Howl’s Moving Castle (the novel) last night, and now I’ve been up since 4am going through the tags on tumblr. I saw someone say that in Howl’s Moving Castle, both Sophie and Howl are the beauty, and they both are the beast. It got me thinking.

This novel beautifully subverts two tropes: the Beauty and the Beast trope (girl goes to scary castle housing legendary monster and falls in love) AS WELL AS the Princess and the Frog trope (Wherein Sophie is the cursed and Howl is the princess longing for true love). 

Beauty and the Beast

So, I’ll be the first to admit that this trope isn’t normally for me. I absolutely understand its appeal. But it’s not for me. But this novel turns it on its head so delightfully I love it.

What is different about Howl’s Moving Castle is, first of all, the girl doesn’t go to the big scary castle against her will. She isn’t a tribute or sacrifice, and she doesn’t go there to free a kidnapped loved one. Nothing is coerced. 

This hat shop girl literally forces her way into the home of this terrifying beast (who kills girls and takes their hearts, mind you, oh and has a fire demon) because she wants to sit by the fire. Then she bullies him into letting her stay. It was hilarious as shit.

Secondly, he’s not a dick or emotionally abusive to her. He’s just annoying lmao. He just has normal flaws!! They are comedic in contrast to his reputation and appearances. This supposed terrifying man, this lothario who seduces women, is emotionally needy, melodramatic, vain, and he avoids his problems rather than confronting them. His house is messy, and it’s not even a castle, it’s an illusion. 

The descriptions of his tantrums are so fuckn funny and you just know...this comes from a place of experience and affection on the part of the author. And yes, in an interview, the author said that she didn’t need to invent Howl’s dramatics when he got a cold, that’s just what her husband (a medievalist/academic) acted like when he was sick. She was like...I just watched him and wrote it all down.

Another comment I saw in a tag of a tumblr post was someone saying...why do you guys like this guy (Howl)? He’s a mess!

Yes! And that’s the point! His fake castle, his hair dye, his fake reputation, it is all just a slightly heightened version of what we all are. We all project a front. We curate our image. (Can you IMAGINE how insufferable Howl would be if he had instagram???) We all have insecurities, and we all sometimes want more attention and validation than we get. 

Sometimes we all want to dramatically slink around the house going ‘oh woe is me, I need a bit of attention’. And so we smile when we see Howl just go for it lmao at least I do. Because of course, despite working overtime to seem more perfect than we are, we all just want to be loved for who we authentically are.

So then of course as Sophie gets to know the real Howl, she also finds out that he is kind. He undercharges poor people for spells, he takes in an orphan and an old lady looking for a rest, and he is very protective of his fire demon, and judges people based on how nice they are to Calcifer.

And again, that’s the whole point. We humans are bundles of kind, squishy hearts, as well as flaws. And we all work overtime putting up images, but in the end, we just want to love and be loved both for our good points, and our absurd, stupid, vulnerabilities and flaws. We want to find value in the soggy human condition.

The Princess and the Frog (where in Howl is the princess and Sophie is the frog)

So, Sophie is cursed into a shape that will (according to fairy tale villain logic) prevent her from finding love. And since the character is a girl, and this book has emotional intelligence, that shape is not a frog, it is an old woman. Women are still valued by society primarily for youth, fertility, and beauty, and are put out to the pasture of invisibility and irrelevance when we get our first crow’s feet. This ‘should’ have been (if Sophie bought into all that) the end of her life, so to speak.

But the absolutely amazing thing is, being an old woman turns out to be Sophie’s secret weapon, her path to self actualization. It gives her strength and courage. She is like...oh, old women can get away with just saying whatever they feel. Oh, people have to be nice to me. And she just gains all of this confidence. Maybe too much! Lol She gets pushier and nosier and more stubborn. 

Sophie has flaws too! But Howl falls in love with her too, and again in the theme of genuine love and inner beauty, he falls in love with her just like she is. He knows she is under a spell but he doesn’t know what she ‘really’ looks like. He just falls in love with who she is.

It’s like the polar opposite of the Little Mermaid (Disney version). In that movie, Ariel loses her voice, and the prince has to get to know her in the silence. In Howl’s Moving Castle, Sophie’s voice is amplified by her curse. She just comes tromping into his house, shouting at him. And he loves her for it.

Howl needs her honesty and her clear eyed assessments. He loves that she is protective of his found family (Calcifer and Michael). (They become her family too.) And, despite her complaining, she is very protective of Howl as well. She even goes to save the woman she thinks he loves, even though she is unbearably jealous.

And in the end, his love doesn’t break the spell. Sophie herself lets go of her ‘disguise’. Her elderly persona has become the armor that she wears to give her courage and strength. It is like assistance, or an aid to her personal growth, and when she grows strong enough on her own to make the choices she wants to make, (love Howl, embrace her magic, choose her own place in life) she lets go of it.

Another subversion to the Princess and the Frog is that Howl is the princess. I just love the gender fuckery of it all. Howl is the one who yearns for true love and relentlessly pursues it. It is Howl who wears jewelry, who primps, and who colors his hair. 

Men are told that if they enjoy anything associated with the feminine, then they are not men. I hate that. I want people to be able to express their gender however they see fit in their individual ways. So to have Howl be aggressively vain and embrace the trappings of femininity and for him to also be loved and the hero, Idk I just really like that. 

Sure, in the end, the fact that he rushes out to save her without doing his hair is a sign that he’s truly in love. But that’s just because he prioritized her wellbeing over his beauty routine that day to save her life. He doesn’t stop being Howl. You get the idea that he’s still gonna be traipsing around in dangly earrings and flashy suits for the foreseeable future. I’ve noticed that on tumblr, the bisexuals have embraced him and Sophie, which is right and good.

So yeah, I love the trope subversions and the idea that we can be messy, flawed, human beings and find humor, nobility, and love in that. All of us. Even princess wizards and even (if you can believe it) eldest daughters.

[noodlefluid]

Sick day | Leo×Sick!Reader

▪︎Sumary

You've been sick for a couple of days, Leo takes care of your sassy ass

❥Type: Fanfic

 ❥Characters: Leo Reader

 ❥Reader's pronouns: no mention

 ❥Relationship: Neutral (can be read as platonic or romantic

 ❥Autor notes: This is the request I lost because I'm an idiot who doesn't know how to use tumblr. Anyways the request was about Leo taking care of a sick reader, cause asker was sick (by the way, I hope you're better, if you're not...oof lmao/j), I hope this satisfied you. Also sorry for the wait and more because is really short, this is based on my own experiences of being sick, and I vave just been really sick like 2 or 3 times

Besides from that, english is not my first language, if you find any mistake in grammar, translation or sentences that don't make sense, please let me know, I would be grateful.

Warning: Mention of death (playfully), swearing, kinda short, things that come with being sick (pills, coughing, fever) mention of soup (soup haters dni/hj), fluff, online translator help

─────────────── »◦❀◦« ───────────────

It was a really bad day, you were glued to the bed due to a cold, you swear it wasn’t a big deal, but the thermometer says otherwise, you have been sick for a few days now, getting better, yes, but feeling like shit either way. You decided to check your social media to kill boredom before it killed you. A notification popped up while you were looking at some posts

Leo: How ya doin?

You: Still sick  :(

My head’s gonna explode

Leo: Lmao

Want me to come over?

You: WHY U LAUGHING??

Oh sure

Leo: omw :D

You put your phone aside for a moment, closing your eyes thinking that a little nap while waiting for Leo wouldn’t be bad. Before you could fully relax a sudden noise make you jump, sitting in your bed due to the panic, a green figure was standing in the door, dressing all black with what looked like a science book with a cross draw with sharpie in the cover in his right hand and a plastic bag in the other, it was Leo, who decide opening your bedroom door in the normal way just wasn’t for him and instead almost destroyed it.  You quickly change from a scared expression to an annoyed one, your forgot that this turtle can teleport

“Today we are here to say farewell to our beloved y/n, who was a- ugh" The red-eared slider couldn’t finish his speech when a pillow land on his face

“...Get the hell out of my house” Just as you said that, you turned your back, pulling the blanket over your face you were happy in the turtle presence, that’s just how your dynamic was

Leo then made an outrageous expression, putting his hand against his plastron and gasping so loud and dramatically that you wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbor had heard him “first of all, rude. Second of all”  he throw the book somewhere in your room while he walked up to your bed “I was gonna give you something but since little y/n here doesn't like ky presence, I would keep it” he make the plastic bag sound

You uncover your face to see “what is it?” you said as you sat on your bed, he gives you the bag and you looked inside

“I assumed that you haven’t eat yet, so I bring you some treats” He was right, you haven’t eat all day, not because you weren’t hungry but because you couldn’t bring yourself to get up the bed and make something

"Thanks, Leon”, you thanked him while looking a little closer to the plastic bag content, inside there were a few of your favorite snacks along with some drinks, you take a water bottle, it was starting to feel like you were dying from dehydration, cold water was just what you needed at the moment

“How's your fever?” The turtle touched your forehead trying to take your temperature 

“mmh…it did get a little better yesterday, but I think it got worse today” You sounded resigned, you took a big sip from the drink, leaving almost half in the bottle

“There’s ice cream there too” Leo took the bag from your hands, pulling an ice cream cup that was at the bottom, your favorite of course “We should really try to lower your temperature, or else I'll have to plan your funeral for real” both laughed at the comment

“Please throw the bouquet at the end, I wanna see who’s next” your laughs got increased, but you had to stop after starting coughing, making your head hurt

Leo looked worried "Don't you have some pills or something that you can take?"

It did takes you a few second and a deep breath to talk "I think there's some paracetamol in the bathroom's mirror"

"I'll go get them, don't die"

"I'll try" you felt like the world was spinning, being sick was the worst, you heard Leo making sound in the bathroom, you weren't a quiet person and small noises weren't a problem for you, but now just the sound of the cabinet makes your ears hurts

Leo once again enter the room, in a more normal way now "here found them" he was speaking in his usual tone, but for some reason you feel it so loud

You grumbled as you take the pills and put them in your mouth, the taste of pills wasn't really your favorite, so you take a big sip of water before you could feel the bitter in your tongue

Leo looked worried for a moment “Sleep a little, you have to rest” Leo’s voice sounded softer, making you think of a purring cat. He took the things from your hands leaving them on the nightstand next to your bed so you could get a little more comfortable

“Thanks Lee, love ya” You made a heart with your hands, smiling softly

“me too, y/n” He mirrored your gesture, smiling at you while leaving the room, closing the door behind him.  

_____________________________

You woke up, you didn’t know how long you slept, the sky in your window began to darken, you felt better, your headache almost gone. You sat to try and find your phone and check the time, but by doing so a wet towel fell on your lap, it seems that it was placed on your forehead, you took it, trying to figure out how it get there. Your head didn't hurt anymore, and your body felt a little more cooler

While you were thinking, the door opened up, it was Leo once again.

The mutant turtle had a tray with a bowl of soup in his hands, noticing you were awake, he smiled at you “I was just gonna wake you up, do you feel better?”

You nodded “What’s that?” you pointed to the bowl of soup

“Soup”

“Where did ya get that?”

“I made it myself for you” the turtle made an arrogance expression, he was proud of himself

“You know how to cook?” Your face was full of disbelief

“...I’m not gonna take care of you never again” You couldn’t help but chuckled at the answer while he pretend to tleave just to walked towards you immediately “Eat it, I have to go already, it’s getting late and I don’t want your parents to find me”

“oh…”You sounded a little bit too disapointed

“I can stay if you beg me” Leo smiled mockingly

“No, thanks.” your response was curt, once again making you both laugh “Message me when you get home and…if it’s okay…could you take care of me tomorrow again?”

“sure” 

[king-candy-lovemail]

stone face (ace ventura x reader oneshot)

requested: yep!! heres to you, YourMomIsBlowingMe (i will never get over that username LMFAO) on wattpad

a piece of my heart will always belong to ace, the hyperfixation on both movies (and the cartoon) got me thru some tough times 😭

kinda unhappy with how this turned out but at the same time kinda proud... ironic i suppose! :P

You hated people. Always selfish, and always out to get you.

All your life, you'd worked dead-end jobs. Retail, customer service, fast food, hell, even a pyramid scheme. You did what you could to scrape by.

And then, you finally thought you'd made it big.

There were a few openings at the local sheriff's office- entry-level positions with little to no required previous experience. Nothing life-threatening or hands-on, though. More like taking phone calls and sorting papers.

Of course, you'd brushed off the offerings when you'd first seen them posted. Yeah, sure, wouldn't that be great. 

And then you saw the starting wage.

Now, here you were, filing 'important papers' for your local police station. You didn't really care about the contents of the files. You always just had headphones in, listening to Satie, or perhaps Chopin.

Most days were the same. Life was fairly bland, and the one joy of life was dancing around the filing room as you listened to classical music.

Coworkers came and went, and no one dared to bother you while you were on your break. Even your current supervisor (a temporary one at that- a few months before you began working there, a whole lot of corruption and conspiracy had went down, causing the previous supervisor to be jailed) barely spoke to you. You got your work done swiftly and efficiently, and didn't care much for socialization.

All had been relatively normal until he showed up.

You relished the peaceful days at the station. Little to no reports, barely any paperwork to file, and a quiet afternoon in the break room. But it seemed that 'peaceful' day would head in a much different direction.

When a brightly dressed, energetic individual entered the station, you were already thrown off. Boisterous people weren't your kind of crowd.

However, this man was more than just boisterous.

He had announced his arrival quite loudly, to your annoyance. He threw his business cards up in the air, letting the cheap cardstock flutter down to the floor. You couldn't help but wonder if he held a grudge against the janitorial staff.

As you pressed your headphones closer to your ears, hoping to drown out this man's incessant noisemaking, you felt your self-proclaimed safety blanket be snatched away.

"Well, well, what are we listening to?" The man's voice came out in a drawl, surprisingly smooth. You snapped your head up, and the bright figure wore a shit-eating grin as he spun the headphones in his hand before slapping them over his own ears.

"Ah! Variation 5 from Paquita, correct?" he chatted idly, spewing some nonsense fact about the ballet. You glared up at him, grabbing your headphones back quickly as he was distracted by the sound of his own voice.

He shrieked dramatically, placing his hands on his head. "Hey, hey! Watch the 'do, woulda?!" His cries fell upon deaf ears as you adjusted your headphones.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, Ventura! That there's Y/N, they've been here for a few months and don't take shit from nobody!" One of your middle-aged female coworkers cackled at her own description of you, slapping you on the back much harder than you're sure she meant to.

You stumbled forward as a result of her force, your headphones being knocked out of your hands. You cursed under your breath, glaring back up at this 'Ventura' man as you picked your saving grace back up off of the floor.

'Ventura' stuck his hand out, imploring you to shake it. You did so, albeit extremely reluctantly. As his warm hand encased yours, you glowered.

"The name's Ace, Ace Ventura. I'm a... heh, pet detective. And ya see, I'm here to celebrate my three month anniversary of SHOWING UP THIS WHOLE STATION! OH YEAH!" He pulled his hand away to, well, pelvic thrust victoriously. You stifled a laugh at his antics, and your coworker made a strangled noise of shock.

"Well look at that, Ventura! You nearly cracked the stone face!" she joked. Ace tilted his head, staring at you.

"Stone face? What are you talking about, Montoya?" he inquired. You clenched your jaw, attempting to walk off. However, Montoya held you in a vice grip.

"Well, Y/N here hasn't cracked even a smile since they first started working here. Matter of fact, me and the guys were startin' to think it was impossible for them to show an emotion other than apathy!" she hollered, her dry fits of laughter becoming slightly grating to your ears.

Montoya was one of the few coworkers you could tolerate. She was motherly, but in a rough way. She gave off a tough-love vibe, the kind of woman to noogie you and smack you if she caught you underage drinking. Sometimes, though, she still got on your nerves.

Ace smirked slightly, and you grew even more irritated. "That so?" he teased. "Well, I bet I can get 'em to laugh by the end of the year, Montoya!" She stuck out her hand, and as they shook, they announced in unison, 'deal!'.

You threw your arms up in defeat, groaning. "Maybe your deal should be to see who can stop talking about me as if I'm not even here by the end of the week!" you cried. Slipping your headphones back on, you walked back to your filing room.

Finally, peace and quiet.

You hated Ace Ventura most of all. Out of every person you'd ever met, you were sure you despised him the most.

Your once-quiet and enjoyable breaks were now interrupted by your headphones being taken suddenly and a familiar voice sounding out from behind you, an irritating 'guess who?' leaving his lips.

You would immediately stumble to get your music back desperately, and each time he would name exactly the song you were listening to.

At this point, you were honestly surprised. Who knew such a foolish, idiotic man had such knowledge on works featured mainly in ballets?

And then, one day, he had caught you dancing along as you did your work.

You had never prided yourself in your dancing, but you had endlessly studied certain ballets for years on end. Call it a hobby or an obsession- either way, it was what got you by.

You were shocked when a pair of arms wrapped around you, lifting you up at the exact moment you had planned to check if the door was still closed.

"Guess who, sugarplum?" he sang cheekily, spinning you around slightly. You screamed, unable to control your sudden outburst of giggles. 

"Hey, please, put me down!" you shrieked, still laughing as he held you close. You tried to ignore the way your body temperature rose at his proximity to you, and the way his arms were wrapped around you...

His voice was unnaturally low now as he muttered, "Told ya I could make you laugh." You furrowed your brow, annoyed once again.

"Go back to whatever it was you were doing, Ace! Tell Montoya about your little bet, and that you won, alright? But leave me out of this shit," you sneered. As you continued your work, you could tell Ace hadn't moved from where he stood. He stood there, still watching you, unmoving.

"What? Go on, you won your deal! Now go."

"That was the first time you said my name," Ace cooed, a stupid smile making its way onto his face. You rolled your eyes, turning away again.

"I like it when you say it. It's a lot better than the other names you call me," he joked. You cracked a smirk at his words.

"What? You mean shithead, bitchboy, and bastard aren't endearing enough for you?" you teased, and Ace let out a laugh.

You sighed once again, trying to push down the feelings that arose over his laugh. "Just... go now, please."

You would never admit that you had wished he would've stayed.

The station's New Year's party wasn't an event you had been chomping at the bit to attend. However, with incessant urging from Montoya and Ace, you resigned yourself to a night of observing drunken buffoons.

The partying never seemed to take a break. Montoya was already shitfaced by the time you got there, while you couldn't seem to find Ace anywhere.

"H-hey, Y/N!" Montoya stuttered out, her words slurring together. She leaned on you for support, despite your body nearly being crushed by the woman's much more muscular frame.

You coughed- her breath reeked of alcohol. "Jesus, how much did you have to drink?" The woman simply cackled at your words, grabbing a random solo cup from a nearby table.

"Oh, please Y/N! My fun has just begun!" She downed yet another swig of beer- or was it whiskey? You weren't sure what this party had to offer- before growing closer to you once again. "I'm surprised, Ventura said he couldn't get you to crack even the slightest smile. And now, here we are, end of the year. I guess he'll be losing!" 

Your breath stopped momentarily, the shock seeping in. "A-Ace said that?" 

He didn't tell her that he won their stupid little game? I guess he's... a little more mature than I gave him credit for?

Your train of thought was disrupted by Montoya's drunken squealing.

"I did it! Ha! You cracked a smile, I WIN! I'm gonna go tell that cocky Ventura right now! He's going to piss himself, hell yeah!" 

You watched as Montoya slugged away, a small smile still on your face. You covered your mouth quickly, not wanting to draw anymore attention to yourself.

"How's it goin', sugarplum?" Ace purred, sliding into the space beside you. You turned away from him, desperate to hide your grin and the heat rushing to your face.

"A-Ace, I haven't, um... I didn't, oh, um..." Your words caught in your throat, and you had to stop yourself from burying your face in his chest that instant. He slowly moved your hand away, letting out a dramatic gasp as he witnessed your smile.

"Y/N L/N, smiling?! This isn't normal, you need to see a doctor this instant!" he shouted. Luckily, with the rest of the party noise, his showing off was drowned out. He pressed a hand to your face, pretending to be feeling for your temperature.

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed, a girl-ish Southern drawl being added into his eccentric speech as he continued, "Looks like you've caught yourself a fever right there!"

You ducked away, trying not to laugh. "Ace, enough! Now, being serious. You didn't tell Montoya about how you won your stupid deal?" you inquired. Ace sucked in a breath through his teeth, placing his hands on his hips.

"Well darlin', what can I say? My reward was just getting to see you happy," he teased, cupping your face gently. You felt like your eyes were going to bulge out of your skull as he leaned in.

Your moment, however, was interrupted by a victorious Montoya.

"Guess what, Ventura! I did it! I cracked that stone face like an egg, I'll tell ya! So you lost, and I won! Suck on that, pet boy!" she screamed, throwing her arms up (and subsequently sloshing the mysterious alcoholic beverage in her cup around haphazardly).

Ace chuckled, bringing you in closer to his side with an arm wrapped around your waist. "What can I say, Montoya. You won! But as you'll soon come to find, I've won a bigger prize," he said smoothly, fingergunning at the woman. In her buzzed stupor, she just shrugged and walked away.

You turned to face him, an unimpressed look on your face.

"Really? Now that was cheesy. What's next, you're gonna kiss me as the new year rings in?" you teased, pursing your lips.

Ace let out a fake laugh, pulling you in flush to his body. You looked away instinctively as he leaned in close, whispering to you as he had the day he won that foolish game.

"On the contrary, my dear, I've never been a man who likes to wait."

[cevansbrat0007]

As the GP kiddos get older, what are their favorite things to do with Daddy Andy? Or their favorite things to do with Momma? Just like one on one bonding things.

Great question!

Bianca "BiBi" Barber - She's a big soccer fan, just like her Mama and they often can be found practicing in the backyard together. BiBi is very good and currently plays for a club team that travels around the region. On the field, Andy and Reader's normally sweet daughter is a force to be reckoned with. She may be small, but she's scrappy. And she's got one hell of a mouth on her - all things she learned from Mama Barber. That kid can talk some serious trash when she's in the mood. While it makes her mother proud, Andy is constantly stunned by just how viscous teenage girls can be...including his Bianca Boo!

BiBi's favorite thing to do with Andy is take her father shopping. She's always trying to update his wardrobe. Now, she knows that her Dad lacks the necessary patience required to survive at the mall, but for her...he really tries. And when they're through, she likes to treat him to frozen yogurt. Well, she tries...only for Andy to slip the money back into her bag.

The last time she took him out for frozen yogurt, a grown man tried to hit on her while Andy was off using the bathroom. Sixteen-year-old BiBi dealt with the creeper just fine, but her father damn near had a heart attack. The older she gets, the more she understands just what her Mama means whenever she calls Andrew dramatic.

___

Katrina "KitCat" Barber - She and her Mama can often be found curled up in Reader's special reading nook. KitCat has her own space set up just for her, and when they can those two get lost in the magic of books for hours. So much so that it's not uncommon for Andy to come looking for them, something they all playfully refer to as a Barber Family Wellness Check.

This kid also has a budding passion for golf, of all things. Andy has been giving her lessons since she's been old enough to swing a club. And over time it's definitely morphed in a father/daughter bonding type experience. She's fairly talented, better than quite a few of the boys - which they hate.

I'll have to tell you all about the time one of those asshole boys tried to look up her skirt. He thought it was real fucking funny until KitCat's nine-iron almost collided with his thick skull. And then when Andy heard what happened...yeah, that shit wasn't pretty. Especially after the asshole kid's uncle tried to place the blame on Katrina. Something about her flirting in order to give herself an advantage.

She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her Daddy so mad. But they eventually finished the game before going out for double bacon cheeseburgers with extra bacon and cheese fries.

___

Aurora "RoRo" Barber - She and Andy have this thing where they sometimes wake up early on Saturdays and head down to his office. But first, they always stop by this little diner for a quick breakfast of cinnamon apple french toast and a mug of hot chocolate. And since they both know that Mama Barber would have a lot to say about their excessive sugar consumption, they tend to leave that part out.

And as the artist of the family, she's constantly traveling with her purple sketchbook. RoRo is also naturally curious and as well as easily distracted. Which sometimes gives Andy palpitations because she's constantly wandering off in order to get a better look at something that she wants to draw. He loses her sometimes...which typically results in panic.

RoRo also loves helping her mother in the garden. She thinks it's hilarious that her mother adores plants, but is somehow also terrified of bugs. And, although it's not her strong suit, she's not adverse to helping her Mama in the kitchen. It doesn't come naturally to her, but the other day she made a blueberry lemon cheesecake from scratch which turned out to be pretty darn tasty!

___

A.J. "Junior" Barber - He loves cooking with his Mama. They have a great time in the kitchen - and he's actually getting rather good. Baking is more his thing, but the kid has a lot of potential. Unlike his father who was born with the ability to burn water. He also enjoys horror movies, and those viewing parties usually consist of him, Mama Barber, and BiBi.

Now, when it comes to spending time with Andy, Junior loves himself some football. They have a great time going to games together when they can. I'll have to tell you guys about the first NFL game they went to when he was a little kid. It was a hoot! And when they're not trying to watch the game, you can find him tinkering in the backyard with his father breaking fixing things in the shed. They're both a couple of handsome, well-meaning menaces.

___

Finally, no matter how old they get, no Barber ever says no to family movie night. That's a must in their household. Fingers crossed that that never changes. Hope that answers your questions!

[foxofsunholt]

Hello author hope you are having a good day, so how would the ROs react to a mc that becomes a flustered mess when they are near then

Thank you and I hope you’re having a good day too!

This is really funny to me because Mars is also normally a flustered mess around when he’s near a (romanced) MC. And I just picture two beet red people having the most awkward conversation. “Weather?” “Good, yeah” “oh. Good” “yeah.” “Good.” “Mhmm.”

Adelaide, who also becomes flustered easily, is just insecure enough to think your blushing awkwardness means you hate her. Which means she tries extra hard to make you like her, which means you blush extra hard and she gets extra convinced that you hate her. She’s going to come to you in tears one day with a: “I’m so sorry I’m annoying and you hate me” and then maybe dramatically runs away

Camille will want to exploit the shit out of it. She’s finding excuses to touch you, flirting with a smirk on her face. She wants to see how far she can push you. Eventually she will come right out and said it: “you like me, don’t you?” Which amuses her greatly. Her watchful gaze turns a little more…intense. It’s not about watching what you’re going to do but watching what she can do to you. You’re a little hot under those clothes, aren’t you? Why not come take them off in Camille’s tent?

Faith is similar; she wants to see you do it more and more. She likes it! As a big flirt, she’s going to keep flirting and keep staying close to you. But unlike Camille, she harbours some patience. Will wait for you to finish your sentences, won’t touch you if she feels like you don’t want to be touched. She’s having fun, but she doesn’t want to do it at your expense. She comes in with a rare gentleness, easing you into the experience of being desired. She waits for you to make the moves, even though it would be easier if she did it.

Yoon is also in the camp of “make you blush as much as possible”, but after a while it would grow old to him. Honestly, he wants to know what the deal is. Yes he is attractive but so are Mars and Sid. Yes he does have a sultry voice. And he dresses great. And he’s charming and….okay, he gets it. But blushing means feelings and he’s not good with those. He keeps you away, skirting around the blushing elephant in the room. He’s made his interest in you known from the start, but he never expected there to be romantic feelings too. He doesn’t know what to do, and maybe for the first time, he’s the one getting flustered.

Sid won’t mistake your blushing for interest, but he will mistake it for discomfort. When he’s with you, he wants to talk to you. He wants to hear the world through your lips and know your life in your own words. How is he going to do that if you can only get out three words around him? He is gentle and patient and he tries to get you out of your shell and to see him as a true friend. Unfortunately, once you’re comfortable around him you’re stuck in the horrible state of being “just his friend”. And no amount of blushing is going to convince him otherwise.

???/the Seventh RO is confused. Why is this happening. What’s wrong with your face? Do you have a fever? Stay away from them they don’t want to get sick. What? Why are you talking so weirdly did you hit your head too? If they were still trying to kill you, they’d take this opportunity to do it.

[firemandeanbuck]

number 27 for the dreamling prompts!!

Prompt 27: Photographer AU

Dream is one of the most in-demand model in the industry currently. Hob, on the other hand, is fairly a new photographer.

Hob always wanted to peruse photography ever since his sister gave him her old camera, which he uses for personal pictures even now.

Before he knows it, he is taken under the wings of one of THEE best photographer of the age, Eros Endless, also known as only Desire. They see something special in Hob. He has that sparkle of life that makes everything brighter. They say he is able to somehow capture a moment, not only a picture and retain its originality.

Hob gets his first big break, not at some gala, or with some known celeb, but on the wedding of one Morpheus Endless, aka Dream, with Tesslay. Naturally, Desire wasn't available that night, it was his brother's wedding after all, and they wanted to have fun.

It was celestial theme, so much glitter and shades for the camera to click and for Hob to pick from.

Since it was a midnight event with more candles than lights, Hob allowed the warm splash on the collection. It was his finest work till date, even better than the last photo he took of his late wife with 4 weeks old Robyn.

The event itself was not big, it was GRAND, everything was extra, the dresses, the decorations, there were trained RAVENS even. It all screamed of how rich the wed couple were. They looked somewhat repelled by the other as they were standing next to each other.

Dream was flawless, even more so in real life. His all-black suit with silver embroidered cloak made his pale skin stand out, like a vampire at a royal ball. His hair was as messy as it is on the runaway. He just looked so big, so unapproachable, like he doesn't belong on earth, he is too classy, too elegant to be on the same plane as Hob. His swirling blue eyes and fluid movements while he dances entranced Hob greatly.

Shortly after, he is recruited by many and is kept busy even since. Now, he knows his way around, he knows his people, he knows how to get into the good books of the higher ups. The right charm for the job, how to make others comfortable. He charges according to the person, the highest he ever went was Dream's wedding, lowest for his sister's bday.

Due to this, he rises quickly in both rank and experience.

He did get to photograph Dream. It was... a session, that may or may not ended up earlier than what was agreed upon.

Dream's eyes were on Hob the entire time. Hob tried his best to not be caught with him.

Hob was utterly breathless by Dream's posing with so confidently and so professionally. He was loosing himself, yet, he didn't forget who he was.

Afterwards, when Hob was processing the pictures on his PC with Dream, as he wanted to see how they turned out even though they were raw picture, Hob was not thinking of his work, he was thinking of how close Dream was standing next to him, he was thinking of how his voice was echoing in his bones, he was thinking of those hands on his body.

"You are wonderful at this",

The photographer can feel himself glow under his praise, he muttered a small thanks as he tried to keep his face from burning.

"What else are you this good at?" His impossibly deep voice dropped an octave.

It was clearly a hint, but Hob played dumb for both of their sakes,

"A handful of other things, I am fond of cooking. Best out there",

It was so close to leading up to tangled sheets and hot breath. Regardless, Morpheus seems to have approved of Hob and his work. He left with the promise that next time he hopes to see him at his place.

Shit hit the fan, there was no ONE person who was normal about the photos. They were instant internet hit and favourites. Hob was surprised to see his followings increase dramatically. Among them was Dream.

Then, one day, he finds Thesslay in his office, asking for a favour,

"Lady, I'm not doing you any favours", he heaves

"Do you know who I-"

"Yes, yes, I do, I was the photographer at your wedding, remember?" Hob tried to reason with her.

She stormed out just as Desire was entering their shared studio.

"What a silly woman she is", they bemused.

"She is getting on my nerves a LITTLE too much",

"Talk to Dream about it, then", Desire said as if its the most obvious solution. In a way, it is, but Hob didn't want to approach Dream. Maybe he didn't want to disappoint, maybe he has developed a crush on him ever since he saw him at his wedding.

"Why don't YOU talk to him?" Hob fired back. Dream was, after all, Desire's brother.

"Family grudges", they say so casually.

Hob finds himself in Dream's penthouse on a fine spring morning. The model agreed to see Hob. He did not speak of the last time they were alone in a room.

"So, what brings you here, Hob Gadling?" Dream asks.

More silent than usual, Hob turned his head to look out of the window. Hob's mind was slightly malfunctioning, you see. Dream was wearing nothing but a black silk gown, his smooth chest, white arms and long legs were on display. The way he carelessly sat with a fixed posture, his back straight, but his limb animated. It was a sight to see. He truly gave off the model aura.

"You-your wife. She has been bugging me for a while", he said, his eyes not meeting Dream's.

"Hmm. Worry not, she will bother you no longer",

Relief washed off Hob. He fear what will be his reaction. Finally, after 3 weeks, he don't have to look over his shoulder and be careful when passes the street.

"And she is no longer my wife", Dream said in his left ear. Hob whipped his head around so fast, he almost got a whiplash. That damn voice again.

Hob did NOT notice Dream getting up and sitting next to him. He did NOT notice the way the robe wasn't fully opaque. He did NOT notice the way he was leaning in, his focus fully on Hob, like he is a masterpiece to be fully appreciated up close.

There was distance of only inches between them. Hob wasn't thinking with his mind, he was thinking with his heart and dick, so he leaned in.

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain.  My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday.  My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday.  The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity.  It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles.  It also adds to the tired.  So much to the tired.  Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow.  I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage.  I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose.  They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice.  Three of those are hard and thorough workers.  One of those will not wear her mask.  I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come.  (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas.  I respect cleaners.  I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years.  I trust them to know what they are doing.  This has been the case in three instances.  Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go?  Where is (whatever) kept?  What should i do next?  I refuse to micro manage.  In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job.  I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed.  This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite.  I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state.  Weed's been legal here for ages.  People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high.  It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed.  I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do.  A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is.  She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high.  She was barely coherent high.  She drove here.  O.o.  She drove home.  This terrifies me.  after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible.  (It had to be vape or edible.  I would have smelled smoke.  Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here.  Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach.  I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling.  Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it.  I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity.  I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible.  2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching.  On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out.  She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time.  She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned.  My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in.   She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed.  Which can be fine.  I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine.  She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others.  I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him.  Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up.  I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.  

Tavy was noticeably wary of her.  He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her.  (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look.  He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs).  He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough.  This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges.  I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly.  She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made!  I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping.  So I told her to sweep first, which she did.  I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky.  (The tub is the most expensive thing I own.  A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it.  I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it.  There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.)  I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink.  I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating.  I should have done it anyway, because this is So.  Much.  Worse.

She used a ton of water.  Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket.  It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed.  So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture.  Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people.  I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions.  And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry.  There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was.  *head desk*  My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink.  Like a TON of Ajax.  The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints.  I couldn't leave it like that.  I cleaned the sink.  I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty.  I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are.  I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much.  I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms.  I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do.  I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again.  It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile.  Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens.  I can and will catch anything you expose me too.  Anything.  I also have a dicey digestive system.  Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off.  yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time.  “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher.  The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away.  I will run the washer after you leave.”  Did she do that?  No.  Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative?  No.  They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left.  We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow.  I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday.  I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.  

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet.  I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person.  I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment.  I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

[valodia]

ah 10:34 am GMT+1. perfect time to rate each flstudio plugin ive ever used

rating is based on: personal subjectivity, effort it costs to use, and number of times ive actually used it

-non native instruments- (all these are free btw)

"Accordion VST" ★☆☆☆☆ self explanatory. got it around 1 or 2 years after i started making music for lofi songs. i couldnt get it to sound like i wanted n blend in well with the other instruments so i only used it a couple times. im thinking of trying it again messing around with filters since at the time of use i didnt know how to do that

"Revitar" ★★★★★ acoustic guitar plugin, sounds very folk. absolutely adore and also the very first plugin i got. since my version of flstudio didnt have any acoustic guitar plugins. can be tuned to sound like a shamisen <3 revitar loads poorly in my experience (just doesnt open on boot/loading it) but i always manage to get it to work eventually and its so good i forgive it.

"DSK Dynamic Guitars" ★★★☆☆ classical guitar plugin. got it i think like 5 years ago bc i wanted a guitar plugin that wasnt revitar. not perfect but does the job.

"DSK Overture" ★★★★★ iirc second plugin i got after revitar. it's a plugin for orchestra type instruments. i think i got it bc i wanted a violin. this plugin is amazing as it does many many instruments n i do use most of them. also some "instruments" are actually combo presets. you can set 4 of instruments to play at once (including the combos) which is ideal to mix them and get interesting sounds. absolute fave.

"EasternONE" ★☆☆☆☆ another versatile plugin i got early on when i started music. it does several instruments (though not as many as DSK Overture) among which: aud, accordion, santur, kaman, etc. kinda like accordion vst i used it a few times but not that much. also have a hard time blending the sounds with other instruments in a satisfying way. it does sound way more real and less digital then other plugins.

"NES VST" ★★★★☆ plugin for retro nintendo shape sounds: square, triangle, noise. perfect for that electronic sound and easily tunable <3 loses a star bc requires some work to fit effectively with other instruments.

EDIT: I FORGOT MINI ERHU!!!!!!!!! here it is:

"Mini Erhu" ★★★★★ self explanatory: erhu plugin. has several presets to instantly get different ways for it to sound. mixes very well with other instruments. absolutely perfect i love it so much. its just a sound i love. makes my music sound so weird since i mash it with other instruments in like electronical music etc and yea! idk how to make normal music! anyway its only dramatic downside is that the range is abysmal. otherwise so good.

-native instruments- (came with my FLstudio 12 version fruity edition - bc im fruity and its the shit tier of the paying versions.)

"Boobass" ★★★★☆ very classical bass that fits most modern sounding songs. a lil bland for my taste but perfect for not emphasizing bassline too much

"FLKeys" ★★★★★ // ★★★★☆ piano synth plugin. used to be perfect but in my version it broke so i can only use the shittier presets and i have to tune it every single time i use it. does not save presets. does not let me use my fave setting which was the grandpiano one </3 never got to work normally again.

EDIT: I also forgot FLSlayer OTL here it is

"FLSlayer" ★★★★☆ electric guitar plugin for rock or metal. very versatile for bass, rhythm guitar or solo guitar sound. it comes with a bunch of different "amps" also. just pretty good. dramatical downside is that it takes forever to tune to get the exact sound you want and mix it with other instruments.

-native filters-

"Fruity limiter" ★★★★☆ it's a limiter. always on by default and i never thought to turn it off. have no opinion on it.

"Fruity Reeverb 2" ★★★☆☆ a reverb plugin, fun to play around with to make the song sounds like its in a big orchestral room or something. i cannot be trusted to use it responsibly so ive stopped using it altogether lately.

"EQUO" ★★★★☆ another limiter, very versatile to give interesting shapes to sounds. i use it to get kind of a retro, desaturated sound. very much love.

there. hopefully this gives some insight about how i fully use FLStudio to almost 1% of its capacity. good nite.

also i did not elaborate on drumlines plugins thats bc i broadly dont care about drumline so much so i have way less of an opinion on them. i use most of the native plugins + DSK Overture for the drumline

[kingnin64]

Nin life update #1

Let's get the big one out of the way: I'm going back to my old job.

I hate that I'm saying that, and I've felt a pit in my chest all day. They called me again, begging me to come back because they only have 4 workers. After I quit, the lady that drugged me eventually went to jail again and got fired, finally. Then, one of the people I convinced to work there quit because he found a better job. One worker is on vacation, and the other is only available on weekends.

So, after failing to get a job over the past month and getting to a financial point where I am consuming the last of my groceries and not paying rent, despite all the job applications I put in, I am going back to Dollar General, the job that almost sent me back to self harm.

Now, for some less depressing news: speedrunning is going very well :)

No world records or top 5's yet, but I'm doing great. Sludge Life 2 released, and I got to experience what it was like to make a speedrun route for a game. I feel like I did a very good job, because my sum of best is much faster than the other runners. I think, as long as I get my run done, I'll hold the world record for like... a day lol.

I had one really good run, but I got to the very end and realized I missed ONE tag. The door on the balcony opens if you've collected all 100 tags. You can see my heart fall out of my chest and shatter into a million pieces on the ground.

Don't forget to follow my Sludge Life speedrunning blog if you wanna see more about the runs :)

Finally, I checked out my old YouTube videos.

Nothing too big to say about it, but I do still feel really proud of everything I've created. With some inspiration from @voltbuttumblin during his streaming anniversary, I've kinda been playing with the idea of making YouTube content again. Unfortunately, this has to coincide with me getting a job that physically and emotionally drains me again, so it probably won't happen.

I just miss when I was making those "record while I play with friends and turn it into a video if it was funny" days. I was documenting the time I was spending with the people I care about. All my friends are very funny, and I love every minute I spend with them. I miss them so much.

And now, for some bonus rambling:

Nowadays, I'm more antisocial. My time at Dollar General really broke me. I lost a lot of friends, and my relevance has really died down since leaving Toiu's community way back then. I don't know if my relative popularity would have survived even if I stayed though, so I try not to think about it too much.

I've met a lot of new people I'm too nervous to talk to. I used to be a natural at approaching and communicating with people, but now I really think a ton about each thing I say to them. I don't think that's so much due to my anxiety as it is due to my self hatred. Over the years, losing friends, developing bad habits... working in retail... it's all really put a dampener on my self-image.

I used to not be a good person. A lot of people with BPD can probably relate to having some bad behavior in the past, or perhaps they're even struggling with it now. So now, any time someone even says the word "manipulative," it feels like it's instantly aimed at me, I take it to heart, and I feel like nothing's changed. This happens with almost everything negative now. All the lost friends? It's most certainly due to my behavior, and not due to people naturally drifting apart.

I get so much shit in my head. I take normal, meaningless shit, and I add so much meaning to it to make myself feel bad. Friend said something entirely unrelated to me but it potentially could be about me? Oh honey it's about me. It hurts to live like this.

Every time I'm in a group, I know I will eventually lose it because of my own insecurities. Even when nobody has anything against me- even if I was a perfect human being, I would imagine some dramatic reason people might slightly dislike me. EVEN PEOPLE I DON'T EVEN TALK TO. Like, I tweet a lot of shit, and there's some people I really respect that follow me, even though we don't talk, and I always worry that they will block me or something.

It sucks, dude. That's all there is to say. See you next update <3

[thesoftboiledegg]

This was such a great episode! I expected crazy shit to happen, especially with the hyper-realistic video game. I was like, "OK, this entire episode is going to turn out to be a simulation" and was pleasantly surprised when the "hyper-realism" was just a joke.

Anyway, it makes me so happy that Beth is bisexual. I figured she was, but the show never stated it either way. That's four out of five--only Morty is left. And to be honest, I think he's bisexual after his weird, unexplained obsession with Bruce Chutback in season 5, but the episode didn't outright say it.

I loved watching Beth and Space Beth fall for each other and go on dates. And OK, they're the same person, but they've made different choices and had wildly different life experiences. This created some tension and intrigue because they're not just repeating the same words and phrases back to each other like an echo.

Sarah Chalke gave a great performance, too. I'd say this is easily her best performance in the entire show. The dialogue was so natural that it sounded like it came from a live-action drama and not a cartoon. Rick and Morty has always had decent dialogue--and Rick in particular sounds like a real person talking at times--but this was another level of realism.

These new writers definitely know what they're doing. Damn.

I could NOT believe it when Rick said that he's fooled around with other Ricks. Holy shit. I actually paused and rewound the video because I was like "...did he seriously just say that?" It's been part of fandom culture for years, but I NEVER thought it would be in the show. Especially with C-137, who's a notorious Rick killer and hates them almost as much as he hates himself.

This makes me so happy! And it's yet another confirmation that Rick is pansexual. Give it up, homophobic fans, because the evidence just keeps mounting.

And like the other episodes in seasons 5 and 6, "Bethic Twinstinct" shows a new side of Rick--someone who's calmer, more patient and willing to help his family instead of just taking what he wants, then throwing a hissy fit when they get sick of it.

Rick's relationship with Jerry is changing, too. He says that he installed the "pillbug protocol" because he got drunk with Jerry one night (that's pretty big in itself) and installed the protocol because Jerry said that's what he "wanted most in the world." Rick wasn't being an asshole. He actually gave Jerry something that he wanted.

And yeah, Rick could be lying, but I think he's telling the truth this time.

Overall, this episode was a good combination of everything. Beth exploring various aspects of her personality, Rick bonding with Beth and his grandkids, Jerry letting out his frustration instead of being passive. Admittedly, Morty and Summer didn't do much, but they were still fun. I enjoyed the meta jokes about how they've had a million Thanksgivings and don't even know how old they are at this point.

This episode didn't explain those creepy posters where Space Beth appears to be controlling her family, so I'm guessing she'll turn up again--and this time, it might not be so friendly.

Anyway, the one part I disliked was the ending. The implication was "Haha yeah, Jerry's got two hot wives that will fool around in front of him." Normally, I'd call it lowkey sexist, but this episode did have Beth and Space Beth exploring a romantic relationship without Jerry's involvement. Still, I'm not a fan. I guess they're cucking Jerry in there? lmao.

Some might dislike this comparison, but Rick and Morty is starting to remind me of Moral Orel, especially with this episode in particular. Both shows start off as rambunctious comedies but explore more mature and dramatic themes as they go on. Honestly, "Bethic Twinstinct" wasn't that funny, but the character development is a worthy trade-off for me.

[h0neypjm]

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?” 

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.” 

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.” 

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding. 

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.” 

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh” 

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together. 

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown. 

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time. 

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue. 

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered. 

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.  

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.” 

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.” 

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock. 

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue. 

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt. 

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.” 

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion. 

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves. 

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery. 

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon. 

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length. 

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vi)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: BUCKY BARNES IS BACK AND HAS A CONFIRMED PERSONALITY 

also omg everyone who’s been sending me ideas- ur the lomls. 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Your place or mine? ;)

He stares at the text.

The right answer is mine. See you at the lair.

“Y’all are dating now?” Clint peeks over his shoulder. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky says indignantly. “God forbid.”

“Okay, man,” he retracts, giving Bucky space to turn around and face him. “What do you want to call your mini dates then?”

“Missions,” Bucky corrects him.

“No one wants to go on a mission. You volunteered to go back there.” 

“It’s for the good of the tristate area.” 

“I bet.” The snort he lets out contradicts his words. “Whole world is depending on you, Barnes. Go save them from the treachery of your crush.”

“Enemy.”

“Girlfriend.”

“Mortal nemesis.” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Go further, I dare you.”

“What are you gonna do? Choke me? Punch me with your metal arm?” Clint cranes his neck. “Bring it, big boy. I’m not scared of some kinky shit.”

He hates living here. 

The door is left open for him. 

This time, even though the lair is still illuminated by the green light out in the front, there’s a minor change. Sunlight streams in through a skylight in the roof. 

There’s a ladder there, leaning against the rim. It gives him an entrance to the roof, which, judging by the lack of any other presence in the lab, is where he’s supposed to go.

As he gets closer he notices there’s a note on one of the rungs.

‘Evil’ with an arrow pointing upwards.

He rolls his eyes, discarding it on the floor before swiftly scaling the steps.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” he hears your voice call out even before his head pops up above the surface. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

He pauses, looking around. “Who’s with you?”

Because other than the gigantic machine pointed up towards the sky, there’s only you with a visor and sunglasses. The  best way he can describe its design was that it was shaped like a pine cone, had a large antenna pointed towards the sky, two handlebars near its base to manoeuvre it with a large button in between them. 

“Just imagine I have my henchmen with me,” you urge. “I’m on a budget, man, I can’t afford them yet. Maybe when my cloning machine finally works-”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s a James Bond reference,” you add when he doesn’t show any signs of answering. 

“Haven’t watched it yet.” Bucky shrugs. “We’re doing Star Trek right now.”

“You’re done with Star Wars?” you, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Nice. You’d find the spy shit ridiculous anyway, it’s way below your level.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He makes a mental note to add the Bond movies to the list. 

“Speaking of stars,” you begin, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to harness the power of the sun.”

“For what?” He doesn’t bother asking how, he already knows you’ve figured out something. 

“There’s a science exhibition and my team’s stupid solar car experiment isn’t working and I need it for them to win.” 

“So build a better one.” 

“No, ours is the best and if Jeff and his stupid baking soda volcano beat us then we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

“Your hands,” he emphasises. He has nothing to do with this.

“I said what I said, boy.” You glare at him. “This is our problem now.”

“How much power are you taking?” If it’s insignificant enough, it wouldn’t matter much. He thinks. 

“The whole thing.”

He laughs. He stops when you don’t.

“You’re taking all the energy of the sun to power your shitty science model.”

“Your face is a shitty science model,” you mimic him in a higher pitched voice. “I will do anything to win.”

He wonders which grade kid you stole that insult from was in. There’s no way they were anything older than 13. He could use it on Steve, maybe.

“Everyone on Earth will die.” He feels the need to remind you, even though there was no way it was actually going to take place. Eat shit, Clint. This superseded the tristate area.

“Not for eight minutes.” You look at your watch. “And, if Jeff dies then I win by default.”

“You’ll die too,” he points out. 

“I’ll die a winner.” You nod seriously as if that makes it better. 

He’s not that worried. Experience tells him that you’re not a mass murderer willingly. 

“You’ll die an idiot.” 

“Only if you don’t stop me.” Your lips curve into a smile. “And how will you when I do this?”

You yank the machine to point towards him and slam the button. His hand reflectively pulls in front of him to defend himself. Something hits him with enough force to send him skidding backwards slightly. 

He removes his hand carefully from in front of him, looking at you. 

Something feels off.

“You just-”

The knives strapped to his thighs suddenly feel heavier.

“Took your powers?” you finish his thought. “Yeah.”

He feels his body tip towards his left. He’s suddenly very aware of the weight of the arm. Had it been this heavy all this while? 

“You’ve barely changed,” you noted, “You’re just regular Bucky but like, 20% less beef.”

After all, he was a boxer when he was a teen. One of the best men the Howling Commandos had even before the serum.

His shoulder feels heavier though. And somehow he thinks he’s sensing things a little less. He can’t really hear the faint buzzing of the generator downstairs anymore.

“Yep, that’s real muscle.” He turns when you poke at his shoulder. He doesn’t know when you got there. “You’re like a modern day Schwarzenegger. Grade A beefcake.”

He can’t see the construction site near the horizon as clearly as he used to. 

Something about this situation makes him feel like he’s going to have a midlife crisis, even though he’s overshot the age by a huge number. No one has a midlife crisis at 106. 

“Now that we’ve established that this works,” you say, back near the machine again. When did you walk there? “Let’s show this bitch that I’m the brightest star allowed in this solar system.” 

He shakes his head to jolt himself awake, shoves aside his mental dysfunction and breaks out into a sprint when you pull the device down to aim it at the sky. 

He latches onto the side, using his left hand to pull himself up, straddling the machine.

“Excuse me,” you exclaim like it’s a minor inconvenience and he feels the machine sway wildly under him. “You’re weighing it down, get off my inator.”  

You’re shooting recklessly, trying to shake him off. It’s not dissimilar to the mechanical bull Natasha made him ride during a mission down south so she could win money off placing bets on him. They had lobster that night.

He reaches down to its side, hoping to feel maybe a panel he can rip off. He finds nothing.  

He hopes none of the rays are actually hitting anything. It’s a little harder to stay on than he’d imagined it would be, and he thinks that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. 

He changes his mind in a split second, swinging himself over so that he can climb the underside of the machine like a monkey bar. He feels like a fucking insect. How was Peter not mortally embarrassed? 

He factors in the fact that his hands are getting clammier and his grip is slipping faster than usual. Also, he can taste his lunch at the back of his throat.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky curses when his hand slips, leaving him to hold on only by his metal arm. 

“You okay?” you call out, not giving him a second to recover unless he really needed it.

He lets out a grunt, swinging his arm up and catching hold of the antenna, yanking it down and towards the machine itself. He pulls himself up so that he’s straddling the machine again. 

One more shot and-

“Very smart, Barnes,” you say dryly, letting go of the handles. 

He sends you a sly grin before sliding down the barrel, kicking the large button with his heel right before he jumps off. 

The beam shoots out, instantly meeting with metal. The device automatically gives a mechanical groan before powering down, turning off altogether. 

“I hate you,” you huff, before noting his paleness. “D’you want some water? An IV maybe?”

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, inhaling heavily to catch his breath.

He’s tired, more so than he would have been under any normal circumstance. He feels a little dizzy, a little disoriented. 

“Don’t worry, your magic powers will be back in a few minutes or so.” You examine the bent antenna, pressing the button and sighing when it stands there lifelessly. “Once Jeff wins, I’ll send the dry cleaning receipt to you. You can pay to get the tear stains out of the kids’ outfits.”

“Your tears or theirs?” He’s relieved about the powers returning, he thinks.

“Both, bitch.” Your eyebrow quirks at his retort. Clearly, he had more energy in him than people realised; his brain seemed to be working fine. He was stronger than you thought. Good for him. 

“You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” He lets out a final exhale before standing up a little straighter. 

“Thanks. It’d be better if you asked your billionaire tech genius to send us something, but okay.”

“It’s a middle school science exhibition. Make a potato battery or something.”

You tsk-tsk. “No points for creativity, Mr. Barnes.”

It creeps into his mind without warning. He wonders if he actually wanted the powers back. Wonders what his life could be if he maybe retired, settled down. For the brief time he feels like his pre-war self, he starts to think like his pre-war self.

“I’m not the one who’s about to lose to a baking soda volcano,” he finds time to respond, however. 

“Your face is a baking soda volcano.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I will not lose.”

“You’re running out of time. Chop chop.”

But the thought hits him. Who is Bucky without his super soldier serum? If he doesn’t have his powers then he can’t think of what use he is to the Avengers.

Who the hell is Bucky if he can’t provide a service to others? How else does he make up for being himself?

His, what he’s now deemed, afterlife crisis is starting to look more apparent.

He compartmentalises and stores it away in a box. He’ll bring it up with his therapist later. 

“I’m going to win and then you’ll be sorry you weren’t a part of it because you didn’t let me steal the sun.” 

“If you win, I’ll still be glad I didn’t let you.” He climbs back down the ladder, feeling the ache in his muscles reduce with every passing minute. 

True to your word, his powers do return a while later. 

And while he’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with Peter in the living room two days later, his phone beeps with a text. 

It’s a picture of a blue first place ribbon next to a toy car that looks like it’s powered by a potato battery. Beside it is an out of focus middle finger that is aimed at him. 

Congratulations, he texts back. Told you potato batteries always win.

Your face always wins, he receives in return. He can’t tell if you’re insulting or flirting with him. 

He just shuts his phone off and goes back to watching the show. 

Next part