#We aren't all that important! Not important enough for you do anything more than 'well let's vote a blue in and do some protests'

[bijoumikhawal]

"Biden is the best choice and he's actually really empathetic and reasonable but also you can't wait for a candidate that won't do genocide and war crimes because to become a presidential candidate you have to be willing to do that" see what you fundamentally don't understand is I'm not waiting for a candidate that won't do war crimes, because I know that. I cannot morally stomach this system, it's a joke to claim its democratic, and AMERICA DELENDA EST. this country is a plague on this Earth

[aptericia]

Not proud to be here.

--

Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.

The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.

It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.

Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.

And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"

Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.

--

On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.

[comicaurora]

I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that

Always.

I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.

Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.

The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."

The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.

I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.

Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.

[jellieland]

(Spoilers for. Real life?? I guess???)

---

Five figures stand, solemn, at the celestial summit of nowhere. They discuss matters of great import, and observe the fragile gossamer thread that is all that surrounds them, and-

Oh. No, nope, nevermind. They're just arguing again, aren't they.

"-don't know what you expect ME to do about it!" snaps the Red One.

"I don't know, Grian, how about literally anything?" asks the Scarlet Moon, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, you could at least tell us what's going on out there," says the Ruby Star. "I don't think that's too much to ask, Grian."

"Riiight, like that'll help," says the Bloody Victor, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Martyn, do you have to make this difficult every single time?" snaps the Red One. "Anyway, we've got loads of time to work this out. It's only just started, even if it was a bit earlier than I thought it would be," he grumbles, irritated.

"Oh! Look!" calls the Coquelicot Loner, from where he is peering away from their circle at something that would look, to anyone but the five present, entirely indistinguishable from any other patch of the universe. "They must be done! Someone's coming!"

"What?" The Red One frowns. "Don't be ridiculous, Scar, there's no way-"

A brilliant beam of starlight shoots down from the heavens, and tears through their little circle like a formula one car cutting through the middle of a picnic.

It leaves behind...

Huh.

What. What is that.

There is... a. Person? But the proportions are all wrong, nothing this world has ever seen before. The limbs are mismatched, twisted, not quite connected. The movement is... disturbingly smooth, except when it jerks and jumps at seemingly random moments.

Whatever they are, they regain their balance, look around, and... laugh. "Oh, hey guys!" they say. "You know, I really didn't think this counted. But here we are, I guess!"

"Mom?" says the Coquelicot Loner, squinting at her. "Why are you short?"

"Oh my god, Scar, you can't just ask people why they're short," says the Ruby Star, apparently on autopilot.

"Yeah, and, uh, not to be rude, but more like why are you an eldrich horror? But, like, more so than usual?" says the Bloody Victor, backing up and looking rather alarmed.

They raise an eyebrow. "Oh, we're doing this now, are we?" They shake their head. "You know what this is perfectly well. We did another game, and I won. Deeply surprising, I know, but here we are!"

The Scarlet Moon tilts her head. "I mean, not that it's not nice to have you here, I guess, but that seemed real quick for a whole game, Cleo."

"Yes, thank you Pearl," says the Red One, narrowing his eyes. "I quite agree. Just how violent WAS this one that it's already finished? And WHY was I not informed?"

Cleo laughs. "To be honest I don't think anyone expected it to matter. And, I mean, sure it was violent, they always are, but it was all pretty light-hearted to be honest! Not a lot of drama, you know." She looks around, and seems to remember something. "Oh, Scott, I let a zombie kill you at the end! Sorry about that, I didn't realise quite how low you were. It was pretty funny, though."

The Ruby Star blinks, and shrugs. "I mean, fair enough. Hey, that means Divorce Quartet is all here, now!"

The Coquelicot Loner squints. "...Does that make you my stepdad, Scott?"

"No," says Cleo.

"God no," says the Ruby Star. "For, just, so many reasons."

"Yeah, I am not doing that again," says Cleo.

"So... So, hang on," says the Red One. "You're saying, in your game, it was all just. Cool and fine and calm. No pain or blood or sacrifice. No agonising entangled web of alliances. No cold-blooded, cold-hearted backstabbing?"

("Hey!" says the Bloody Victor.)

"I mean there was plenty of blood, technically. And Martyn did sort of try to stab everyone in the back and then run away."

("...Yeah, ok, fine," says the Bloody Victor.)

"But no, not much emotional turmoil, all in all! It was pretty chill, really!" They glance around the circle. "It was nice to see Ren again, too! I think he was off roleplaying with Martyn most of the time, though."

"I'm going to kill you," says the Bloody Victor, despairingly. "How is that fair?!"

"Life isn't fair," says the Scarlet Moon.

"Oh, you-"

"Can you shut up for five minutes," snaps the Red One.

As the bickering continues, the Coquelicot Loner and Ruby Star sidle up to Cleo, avoiding her wavering, eldritch outline.

"So!" says the Coquelicot Loner. "How's dad?"

Cleo gives him a look. "Scar," they say.

He holds up his hands. "Ok, ok! Just asking!"

She shakes her head, not without affection. "Is this really all you do here? Just stand around and irritate each other?"

"No!" says the Coquelicot Loner, seemingly deeply offended.

"Yeah, pretty much," says the Ruby Star.

"Ok well that's stupid," says Cleo.

"Yes," says the Red One, having extricated himself from the continuing altercation between the other two. "This is extremely stupid." He claps his hands, drawing everyone's attention and finally ending the argument, for now. "All in favour of erasing the past few minutes from existence and pretending none this ever happened?"

"Aye," says everyone but Cleo.

"What," says Cleo.

"It means you get to go home and you don't have to stands around in a circle with us lot for the rest of eternity," says the Scarlet Moon.

"Oh. Yeah, definitely do that," says Cleo.

"Wonderful," says the Red One, and clicks his fingers.

...

Five figures stand, solemn, at the celestial summit of nowhere. They discuss matters of great import, and observe the fragile gossamer thread that is all that surrounds them, and-

The Coquelicot Loner speaks. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it! Do you-"

"I thought we just agreed that didn't happen, Scar," snaps the Red One.

Oh, ok. Alright, they're arguing again.

Yeah, we probably don't have to stick around and listen to this any longer, either. I don't expect it's going to change anytime soon.

[bucketsofmonsters]

I was wondering, in Proper Etiquette (my favourite of your writings) Reader is wearing dresses and corsets all the time (which is Wonderful and corsets are Not Evil Actually they're literally a bra that supports the weight of heavy layers of skirts BUT I DIGRESS) but how would Rygel react to his wife, feeling a little cold as fall comes along, asks to have a sweater like he's wearing and some warm pants or a wool skirt and petticoat to wear with the sweater, rather than her usual fine clothes that clearly aren't built for the weather in her new home

You’re so real for the corset thing, I will defend corsets until the day I die. Also sorry this took me forever

Rygel ran hot. You were well aware of that fact by now. Every time you pressed up against him he radiated heat, more than any person you’d ever been near, although to be fair you didn’t have much of a frame of reference. 

What had taken a bit longer was realizing they all did. 

When you’d first arrived it had been summer, a little colder than the summers you were accustomed to, but nothing too severe. 

But then winter had come, and with it, something unfamiliar to you. With it came the snow. 

It was a perfect coincidence for them because while they seemed largely comfortable in the cold of your new home, you were not. You were instead accustomed to a little rain in the winter, maybe some cold winds, but nothing an extra layer or two couldn’t combat. 

This was far from that. At first, the snow had been delightful. You’d only ever heard stories and caught glimpses of it on the peaks of faraway mountains, but here it was all around you. 

As the novelty faded, it became a bit more of a problem. 

You tried what you’d always done, adding layers and bundling up, but you just didn’t have enough. Nothing you had was built for this kind of cold and it wasn’t like you could borrow clothes from someone, you’d drown in the sheer amount of fabric.

So instead you stood, bundled under layers that were helpless against the biting cold. You’d barely been outside for a few minutes before you’d rushed back into the warmth of your room but the cold had settled in your bones and couldn’t be snuffed out so easily. 

Your jaw was clenched to stop your teeth from chattering, your whole body wound tight, trying to preserve what little heat you had. 

“I’m not built for this,” you said with a huff as you collapsed backward onto your bed, wrapping yourself in blankets. 

Rygel huffed out a laugh from his desk, his attention still focused on whatever he was reading. “Not built for what?”

“Winter. Not here at least. I think I might go into hibernation.”

He froze, eyes widening before he turned to you. “Oh my god, you’re cold. Of course you are, I should’ve prepared for this.”

You cut him off. “No, I’m fine, really. I’ve been keeping inside as much as I can, the layers have been helping, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

He did not seem convinced. “We don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you. Hell, we don’t have warm enough clothes anyway. Shit. You should’ve told me.” His words were dripping with concern as the full implications of his mistake hit him. 

“Rygel,” you said, trying to cut through the worry and reassure him. “I’m fine, really, it’s not a big deal. I can stay inside for a season, god knows there’s more than enough fires and blankets in this place to keep me warm.”

“I should have realized. I forget how fragile your kind are, I should have seen this coming, gotten you some real clothes. As much as I love those dresses, we have to get you in some furs. ”

 “We are not fragile, you are just all far too sturdy. And besides, I like my dresses.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed dismissively with a smile. “Sure we are. I really should have been more careful with you though. Your safety is more important than anything. I will keep you warm if it’s the last thing I do, even if we do have to cover up those pretty little dresses. Now, how will I ever manage to keep you warm until we can get you some better-suited clothes?”

You climbed onto his lap, ducking underneath his shirt, and pressed up close to him, absorbing his heat as you felt a chuckle run through his chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t get you warm clothes,” he said as a steady arm wrapped around you. “I think I prefer this.”

You hummed in agreement. “Plus it’s very dignified.”

His hand scooped under you, lifting you while keeping you close to him. “Very.”

You happily nuzzled further into his chest and he returned to his work, his arm still firmly wrapped around you. You were sure he’d find something for you, get you warmer clothes and make sure you were safe and warm and happy. His concern more than convinced you of that. 

And when all else failed, at least your husband ran hot.

[luveline]

if you’re open to it, could you complete the trio and write smth abt james seeing reader’s scars for the first time, too? ty x

ty for requesting ♡ fem

cw past self-harm [no graphic imagery]

It should surprise James as someone who's never thought about hurting himself, but he has two very important best friends, of which he'd do anything for, who aren't of the same disposition. So when he notices the pale skin of your scars where they criss-cross your chest, your stomach, your thighs, he's almost ready for it. 

You attract sad souls, Sirius had said once, mostly joking. 

But James doesn't think that's true. He just thinks there are more people who needed love and didn't get it than first appears. 

You sit up in your sun lounger. James pretends not to notice when you see him, smiling to himself as you grab your cover up. 

"The sun doesn't feel real, right?" you ask, sitting next to him on the picnic bench. "Late September heatwave. What will global warming think of next?" 

"It's miserable," he says agreeably, though he loves the heat. "That's nice." 

"This?" you ask, waving at your cover up. It's ruched fabric made to drape at your hips, almost like a skirt. 

"Yeah, that. You look really pretty." 

"Thanks, James." Your smile is all kinds of dazzling. "Nice of Sirius to host a party, huh? Now we can make the most of the sunshine. Did he put you in charge of food again?"

He nods to the spread in clingfilm behind you both. It's safe in the shade, the sun kissing to your knees and not much further. "Doesn't he always?" 

"It's good for me. I like your samosas." 

"Which ones? The kheema ones?" He nudges you amicably. "You have good taste. I made a bunch of sliders too, cucumber sandwiches. Don't limit yourself." 

You stay by his side and eventually peel back the clingfilm on one of the plates, stealing quarter sandwiches with one of your legs pulled up on the bench. Your bikini is little and your coverup slips to one side down your leg, scars plainly on show. He has no intention of bringing it up, until you notice what's happened and flinch. He can't hide that he's seen fast enough, horrified when you fluster, you waver, your eyes pinched with humiliation. "Sorry," you say, laughing awkwardly. "I'm flashing you. Sorry." 

He casts a glance around the back garden. Most of your friends squeeze into the lazy spa sweating themselves to death in the sun, and the remainder drink cold drinks by the stereo. No one's watching you but him. 

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says. 

"I just didn't want you to see." 

"Me?" he asks, startled. 

"I mean. Not like that. Not not like that." You tear the crusts off of your sandwich and put them on the plate like you're looking for something to do. "Not like anything." You smile at him a raw shade off of happy. 

"Shortcake, it doesn't bother me one bit. You think I care about that?" He ducks his head. "You're you. All of this," —he makes a small gesture at your front— "is you. I want to see all of it. You don't have anything you need to hide." 

"All of it?" you ask strangely. 

He doesn't get what you're saying but then he does, suddenly, blood rushing to his face and his ears hot as a flame. What a weird thing to say, he stresses to himself. You stupid man. "I'm not a pervert," he says. 

You gawp. He gets hotter, if possible, scratching his hair back from his eyes. 

"I mean, you're beautiful," he says, "anyone would be lucky to see it all. Oh my god." 

You put your ruined sandwich on the edge of the plate and fix the clingfilm as he dies of shame. He's thinking well, courting you was fun while it lasted, all those bad jokes and better hugs, he loved every minute of your attention. 

You laugh. "Most of the time I don't care about them," you confess, and he's so happy to hear your voice rolling over his embarrassment he could run a lap, "they're old. Can't do anything about them. But I didn't want you to think I was some sort of freak." 

"Is that what you think you are?" 

"No, of course not… Silly for doing something like that." 

"I don't think it was silly. We do what we can, right?" He eases his arm around your shoulders in a hug, his hand eager to rub at the top of your arm. "I don't think you're some sort of freak, you're my type of freak." 

"You really don't care?" 

"I care," he says gently, touching the tip of his nose to your cheek before giving you a more friendly amount of space. "A lot. Especially about you, okay? But I don't care about them unless you do. I like you, yeah?" 

"I like you too," you say. 

"Wanna prove it?" 

James asks you to make him a plate of things to graze on while he finds you both a drink. It's not his most romantic of lines, but it means you end up at his side for a dedicated while, flicking condensation at his chest. You don't worry about the coverup again. 

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hope requests aren't closed. Could I request Gepard, Argenti, Dan Heng, and Jing Yuan with a s/o who is an excellent inventor? Toys, machines, they can make anything.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ They weren't when you requested so you're good! Also, I don't write for Argenti so hope you don't mind me changing him for Serval! She just suits here so well and I need more of the girlies so you can say I kinda took the opportunity there~ Anyway, hope it's still up to your liking!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Dan Heng probably knows both a lot and a little about subject of inventing

✧ he read about it and even saw few constructions due to adventuring from planet to planet, but he also never really did it himself

✧ you'll have to introduce him to all the shortcuts while inventing something because he knows just the long and boring way, like instructions said, he'll do the exact steps

✧ he doesn't really mind and find it actually quite interesting to help you around

✧ but if your workshop is loud... he may not be big fan... and if you're trabilazer like him and all the noise is coming from the next room? Yeah, he'd loose it...

"Y/N. How about we go grab some sweets and you finish your work later? I need a break..."

✧ don't get him wrong, he's happy you're working on your skills but he just doesn't like the noise and would much prefer go on a walk while you work

✧ but at least he helps you with cleaning and quieter parts of inventing!

✧ tho if you live on planet and he rarely visits you we it is... he may not mind the noise as much. He's simply more focused on spending some quality time with you than that

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!

✧ Gepard is honestly happy for your achievements and you probably met each other through Serval

✧ but... let no one ask him who's better inventor... he's not gonna be able to choose between you and his sister so he'll end up with basic answer, simply saying you're both great which he's not lying about

✧ but if we can avoid that, he knows quite a bit about it so he'll often drop by and see how you're doing

✧ and if you need help, he wouldn't mind doing so we long as he's not busy

✧ if he won't know something... he can always ask you or Serval if you'll need some professional advice too!

✧ this boy is so busy and now he also has 2 inventors to help... he often leaves you or Serval mid day to go to another one, so he won't seem like he's playing favorites because he loves you both equally, just in different ways

"Hey love, I'll go see how Serval's doing, okey? I'll come back later so I can help you more since I know you're busy. I'll be back in 1 of 2 hours."

✧ but... Serval often kicks him out to help his partner, she's like tou cupid if you think about it...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Serval is too!! You guys either met through work and bonded OR became close and just later realized you're both inventors

✧ when you were far enough into relationship, she definitely wanted to combine your two workshops so instead of "competing against each other", you could work together

✧ and lemme tell you... if you do it, your business is going CRAZY since you're both one of the best inventors in Belebog

✧ if you ever struggle with idea, fixing or making something, she's the one you should go for!

✧ she knows you're a bit better than her and will often mention it, not because she had low self-esteem but because she's proud girlfriend and wants to compliment you

"Hehe~ C'mon, you're the best at it! You need to teach me your trick someday, alright? In exchange... I could take you on a date next week! I'll clear my schedule so we can spend entire day with each other."

✧ expect her to be a little flirty from time to time when you work, sneaking little notes between not important machines so you'll wonder why it's not working just to find love letter there, or send some flying little robot with hear or chocolates on it... many can happen when she's in the playful mood!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

✧ Jing Yuan most likely knows every citizen of Xianzhou Luofu, some worse some better... so he definitely knew you even before you got into relationship

✧ but your relationship either developed by him hiring you one day or him getting w little crush and visiting you often

✧ and when you're together, he'll often drop by to see how you're doing and he'll you around

✧ and when he can't come check up on you because of his work... he'll simply send someone to you! It can be either Cloud Knight on patrol or Yanqing passing by

✧ he loves seeing how much you can do with just the idea and materials. So he'll sometimes sit down next to you and watch you work

✧ his favorite thing is to see the project developed all the way from simple scratch to finished product

✧ he'll also remind you of breaks, taking you out for something sweet or to restaurant whenever you finish project you've been working for days

"It looks great, my dear. Now let's go eat something. My treat. Trust me, you deserve it for all the good work you did there."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@miya-akane - come get your soft general~

[bookyeom]

Hallo Leslie!! I finally had a free brain moment to look through your prompt ideas, and if you’re still open to requests, how about # 61 + 90 from the second list?

Hope your week is off to a good start!

A/N: I'm so sorry these prompts took 800 years to get written, but here we are. This one may or may not be inspired by Wait (it 100% is inspired by Wait). Enjoy!!

Please Don't Tell Me Wait

Pairing: Dino x Reader Genre: idiots to lovers, friends to lovers Rating: PG (because of the kissing ig?) Word Count: 2.3k Request Prompt: "you can tell me anything." Warnings: kissing, Lee Chan as a general warning

YN: I’ll kill you, Boo Seungkwan. I will

Boo: why? 😇

YN: What could possibly be so important that you ‘suddenly’ need to go to the mall all the way across town immediately, bring Vernon, Soonyoung and Mingyu with you, and cancel on movie night?? When Chan is already almost here?

Boo: giving you and Channie some alone time 🙂

You gape down at your phone. 

YN: you’re shameless. Evil and vile. Canceled. 

Boo: I think you misspelled thank you? 

Your next raging text is lost mid-type as your doorbell rings, and you straighten up in your seat. You have a quick internal debate with yourself about whether or not you should answer, but then you think about how sad Lee Chan would be if you didn’t open the door, and you find yourself moving without any more thought. Whipped, comes the unhelpful thought.

As soon as you open the door, you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. Your breath catches just at the sight of him, wearing his favourite grey hoodie and a smile, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone more breathtaking in your life. “Hi,” he says, and you want so badly to ignore the way everything around you feels a little bit brighter just at the sound of his voice. You are in so deep.

You let him in and he quickly makes himself at home. It isn’t the first time your friends have plotted to get the two of you alone, but it is the first time it’s been in such an intimate setting. Chan’s been over to your place so many times before, but always with one of the boys in tow. You hate how nervous you feel.

You’re nervous because you like him. When Seungkwan found out last month, pretty soon everyone within earshot knew, too. Somehow – and you thanked the stars for this – Chan didn’t seem to have a clue. 

One thing about your friend Chan: he was pretty oblivious, for the most part. You knew so many people who would kill for a chance with him, but he didn’t seem to notice or even care. He flirted with you – that much was clear. You weren’t naive. But he’d never once seemed to mean anything more than friendly banter, because that’s just who he is, so here you were. Pining unrequitedly after one of your friends, with your other friends desperately trying to push the two of you together. It was frustrating at best.

You can make it through this night. You always have fun with Chan, and talking to him is easy enough when you aren't thinking too much. You have similar taste in movies and snacks, he’s funny, he's a good listener… the list is endless. You like being around him. You can do this.

You manage to act relatively normal as the two of you get settled for the movie, even as Chan makes a joke about the guys ditching, even as you almost physically jump back when he hands you the popcorn bowl to carry into the living room, and your fingers brush. You’re fine, up until the moment you’re sitting on your couch with snacks at the ready, a semi-breathable distance between the two of you, and he decides to speak up.

“Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything.” You answer without hesitation, because it’s true. 

“Well…” He pauses, and you meet his gaze with a raised eyebrow when he doesn’t continue. As soon as your eyes are on him and away from the TV, his lips turn upward and he says, “I think you look really pretty tonight.”

Your eyes widen, and you nearly drop the remote. You watch as the corner of his mouth lifts up even further into a smile, and you can tell he’s pleased with himself. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for a response, but you don’t have one. Your mind wants to ask it, wants desperately to just blurt out the question — is this a date? Are we on a fucking date right now? — but you refrain. 

“Chan,” is what you say instead, with a roll of your eyes as you hold out the remote for him to take. You know the effect his words have had on you is obvious with the way you’re reacting, but you can only pray that he doesn’t comment on it. “Just pick a movie.”

You would almost think he meant his words if he’d ever actually tried to take his flirtatious remarks any deeper, but he never does. It’s been months of this. It’s not that he’s mean, you know he’s not — you just think he doesn’t have a clue that you might actually like him. 

“I mean what I said.” 

You’re startled from your thoughts when Chan speaks again, and you realize that he definitely hasn’t moved to take the remote from your outstretched hand. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, either. 

You slowly lower the remote back down to your lap. “Have you been taking lessons from Mingyu again on how to flirt?” 

You watch as he leans forward slightly, that stupid, soft, teasing smile on his mouth yet again, and he asks, “Why, are they finally starting to work on you?”

You blink, staring back at him as all thoughts swiftly leave you. Your breath catches as his eyes wander across your face, and your own gaze can’t help but find his mouth. 

“Maybe,” is what comes out before you can stop it. 

Chan seems surprised for a second too, before he rights himself again. “Well,” he says slowly, “like I said... I meant every single word.”

His fingers gently pry the remote from your hand, eyes never leaving yours. He moves closer and closer, judging your every reaction, watching for any hesitation. He finds none. You let him draw you in, your back falling against the armrest and then he’s above you, his hands braced on the couch on either side. He’s gazing down at you so intently that you think you forget how to breathe. 

“How do I know that you mean it?” Your voice is quiet, uncertain. You know that you want this, that you want him, but you’re terrified that he doesn’t mean it in the same way as you.

“I can show you,” he returns, as serious as you’ve ever seen him, and you can’t stop your gaze from falling to his mouth. He takes that as a sign. And when he leans down, nose gently brushing against yours as he waits for permission, it’s you that closes the gap first. 

You kiss him, soft and hesitant. He responds almost immediately, pushing back against your mouth, a hum coming from somewhere deep in his chest. Like he’s been waiting. The thought makes your toes curl. Your hands find his waist, pulling him down to you as far as he can go, and you can feel him laugh against your mouth before he’s kissing you again, over and over, until you can’t think or feel anything but him.

You’ve never been kissed like this. 

He breaks the kiss first, his forehead falling to yours as he catches his breath. You’re both silent for a moment as you process, and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. 

“Chan,” you finally say, voice quiet, your grip on the back of his shirt tightening.

“Yeah?” He mirrors your hushed tone, pulling away so he can look at you. He sounds breathless, and it makes you feel even dizzier. 

“I…” You trail off. You squeeze your eyes shut in a feeble attempt to lessen the effect of his gaze on you like this, but it’s futile. The look on his face, the one that you’d sworn to yourself all these months meant nothing, is permanently etched into the back of your eyelids now.

He doesn’t move at all as he waits, giving you time. The heat of him so close, his entire body pressed to yours, is so intimate, so overwhelming. You can feel him everywhere, can feel every breath he takes, and you wonder if he can feel your heart ready to burst out of your chest.

“Chan,” you finally speak again, voice barely a whisper. “If you don’t…”

His eyebrows furrow; you can tell he wants to speak, but he doesn’t. 

“If you don’t mean this,” you try again, your eyes still squeezed shut. “If this isn’t serious for you, then I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

It’s silent, and your heart slowly sinks into the couch beneath you. 

Then he’s gently pushing himself off of and away from you. The feeling of disappointment quickly claws its way up into your throat, robbing the air from your lungs along the way. You sit up too, keeping as much distance between you as possible. Your eyes stay trained on your hands in your lap — you can’t look at him for even a second.

“Y/N.”

You feel your eyes begin to water in spite of yourself. Stop, stop, stop. 

“Y/N,” he repeats, voice soft, “I need you to look at me.”

You take a deep breath, feeling your lower lip quiver. You steady yourself before meeting his eyes, straightening your shoulders.

“Do you really not know how much I like you?”

You weren’t expecting that. The question hangs in the air as you blink back at him. “You—“

“I’ve liked you for so long… since that night when you were the only one who laughed at my joke at Soonyoung’s party.”

Your mouth falls open as you think back to that night — you know the very one. The same night that you finally learned his name — the name of the cute new guy your friends had been bringing around. That was ages ago.

“Oh.”

A few more beats of silence pass by until he speaks again.

“How could you possibly think I’m not into you? I don’t think I’ve ever been more obvious about something in my life.” He laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. 

Your heart is beating triple time as you search for your words. “We’ve known each other for six months, and you never said anything.”

“Neither did you.” He raises his eyebrows in a challenge, daring you to disagree with him, but the smile on his lips gives him away.

“You have so many friends,” you say quietly after a moment, and you watch as Chan’s face softens. “I just assumed you treated them the same way you treat me.”

“I don’t,” he says softly, “but I can see why you might have thought that.”

“So many people flirt with you. All the time.” You don’t know why you’re continuing to state these things — you blame it on the fact that you absolutely cannot process that he just told you he likes you — but Chan just takes your words as they come. 

“I barely notice… especially when you’re there.” He bites his lip, tilting his head as he looks at you. “And people flirt with you too, you know.”

You let out a laugh at that, looking down at your hands. “I know.”

“But you didn’t know that I was flirting with you?” Chan asks incredulously, throwing his head back with a groan. You can tell he’s joking, and you can’t help the smile that passes over your lips now, too. 

“I did know,” you offer, and Chan sits up straight to look at you again. You continue before he can protest. “But I didn’t know if it was serious for you. And for me…” You stop yourself before you admit what you were about to, feeling your cheeks flush. 

For me, it’s serious.

“For you?” He prompts you to go on, and you can tell he’s trying desperately to hold back a grin, because he knows exactly what you were going to say. You let out a whine. 

“Stop.” 

He laughs. Then your heart leaps into your throat once more, because he’s reaching across the distance between you, finding your hand and pulling it back into his lap. “I’ll say it loud and clear so there are no misunderstandings,” he begins, thumb tracing lazy lines on the back of your hand, “I like you… seriously.” 

You know he’s teasing you again, but you can’t find it in you to care when you know he’s being honest. Your eyes fall to your entwined hands, mesmerized by his gentle movements against your skin, your heart near ready to jump out of your chest at the softness of it all.

“So…”

You look back up to find him bashful as he speaks, and it’s his turn to avoid your eyes as he chews on his lower lip. You suddenly realize what you think he’s waiting for, and you smile. 

“I like you a lot too,” you say, and when his gaze snaps to yours, you know you’ve said what he needed to hear. He smiles then, cheeks flushed and happy, and you’re enthralled by how shy he’s being when he had just been kissing you into oblivion moments prior. 

“Good.”

You beam at him, and he beams back, before he’s pulling you closer by your joined hands and into a hug. You curl up into his side, your head finding a place in the crook of his neck. 

“Y/N?” You glance up, heart stuttering a bit at the sight of him so close as you wait for him to continue. “For the record, in case you were still worried – I absolutely do not spend time with anyone else trying to ignore the way their lips move when they talk. That’s Y/N privilege.”

“Not even Soonyoung?” 

He’s kissing you almost before you get the teasing words out.

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it's what us writers rely on :)

TAGLIST: @dejavernon @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen @wqnwoos

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

[merakiui]

thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)

He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.

In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.

You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.

Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."

"Housing? What do you mean?"

He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."

You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.

But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?

The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!

Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.

By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.

The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.

Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."

He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."

You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?

"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"

He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.

Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."

And safe you are.

You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.

You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."

But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.

By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.

Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.

The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"

"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.

"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."

And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.

No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.

Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.

"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."

You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?

The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.

He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.

And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.

Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.

[libraryofgage]

Hashah Tovah! It's Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and there's no such thing as too much Jewish Steve in my book (that being said, this story isn't about the New Year, it's about Shabbat hfjdks)

Also, I'm gonna be honest, this fic is a love letter to Judaism and my experiences with my temple and the people there. My experiences aren't universal, though, so please don't take anything here as, like, the end-all-be-all of Judaism. If you have questions about anything here, you can ask me; I'll be happy to answer ^_^

The time period is also very loose. Upside Down happened, but some of the attitudes are probably a bit more modern. Honestly, I suggest just shutting off your brain and enjoying the story lmao

CW: vague mentions of antisemitism and homophobia

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

(also this is like 4k so buckle in bois)

----

Steve's car has officially given up on life. Honestly, he's surprised it even managed to live this long. For all it's been through, it probably deserves some rest and TLC. Steve just wishes it could have demanded that rest and TLC on any other day.

Because it's Friday. Because it's Shabbat. Because he's about to have a mob of concerned elderly members of his temple crowding his door if he doesn't go to services tonight, and that's not something he wants his neighbors to see.

He considers calling Robin, but she won't be much help. She might be his Emergency Goy, but she doesn't have a car. Now that he's thinking about it, Robin may not be the best Emergency Goy, not that he'd ever tell her that.

He knows one other person with a car, of course, but that means he has to call Eddie. Not that Steve has anything against him, of course, but Eddie makes him feel a lot of things that he's not quite ready to confront just yet.

Steve frowns, staring at the phone for a long moment, trying to come up with any other option.

Steve comes up empty.

Shit.

He takes a deep breath and takes the phone off the receiver, slowly punching in the numbers as though he'll suddenly have an epiphany before he's finished dialing.

Unfortunately, he doesn't, and the phone is now ringing. It rings twice before getting picked up, Eddie's familiar voice saying, "You've reached Casa de Munson. The fuck do you want?"

"Do you always answer the phone like that?" Steve asks, momentarily forgetting about the favor he was planning to ask.

He hears Eddie hum and can practically picture the way he's now leaning against the wall next to the phone, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Stevie. What, pray tell, has you calling me?" he asks.

Steve almost hangs up. This is already stressful for him. What if Eddie doesn't agree? Worst, what if he does? Wouldn't that mean Eddie is going to see a part of himself that nobody but Robin has seen? That's fucking terrifying. What if Eddie suddenly hates him?

"I, uh, I need a favor," Steve admits.

"What kind of favor?"

If he wanted, Steve could just lie. It wouldn't be his first time lying about Friday plans. "My car won't start," Steve says, hesitating for a second more before continuing, "and I need a ride to the next town tonight."

"Gee, Harrington, get invited to a party?" Eddie asks, a slight edge to his voice that Steve can't quite place.

"What? No. I...it's not a party, okay? This is really important to me, man. Can you give me a ride or should I ask someone else?"

Maybe Hopper or Joyce would have enough time to give him a ride. He just needs to be dropped off. Getting back...can be a bridge he crosses when he comes to it.

"What time would we be getting back?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve from his thoughts.

"Probably after nine. And we need to be there at six, so that means leaving here no later than five," Steve says, trying to ignore the growing hope and sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. "I know it's really last minute, but you could spend the night at my place after. If you want."

"Will it be fun?"

"Uh, maybe? I don't know, man, it kinda depends. I find it fun, but you might get...bored," Steve says. Or offended. Maybe infuriated? Maybe betrayed that this is a whole part of Steve's life he's never hinted at.

"You're being real mysterious about all this, big boy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just hard to explain."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm bored and curious."

----

On the drive, Eddie keeps trying to figure out where Steve is directing him. He keeps asking questions, Steve keeps dodging them, and that feeling of inevitable dread keeps growing.

Of course, all that dodging is rendered obsolete as Eddie pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the van. A few families are walking into the temple, some parents glancing curiously at the unfamiliar van, some glancing suspiciously, and some too distracted by kids to notice.

"Uh, are you sure this is the place?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly as he looks at the temple and then at Steve.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, his hands nervously gripping the material of his sweater. "I'm Jewish," he blurts out, feeling his face burning. When a few seconds pass without any response, he burns holes into a tree outside and adds, "It's Friday night services. Shabbat. I've missed too many because of...you know. The, um, the Rabbi called and asked if I was okay, and I promised to be at services tonight. You don't have to stay if you don't feel comfortable."

"You don't look Jewish."

Steve tenses, jerking his head to look at Eddie. There's no malice in his eyes. No suspicion, either, thankfully. He just looks...confused. "What's a Jew supposed to look like?" Steve asks in return, wondering if Eddie even knows that he's toeing the edge of the antisemitic swimming pool.

Eddie opens his mouth before closing it again. "Uh...I don't know, actually. Just...not you, I guess?"

Okay. Yeah. Steve can deal with this. He forces himself to relax. "Well, Jews come in all shapes and sizes," he says. He hesitates before deciding to get a burning question out of the way. "Are you angry?"

"What the fuck would I be angry about?"

"That I didn't tell you. That I was Jewish. To be fair, only Robin knows."

Eddie shakes his head, turning in his seat to face Steve. "No, Stevie, I'm not angry. I mean, I live in Hawkins, too. Not exactly the place to be standing out unless you wanna get accused of murder."

Despite himself, Steve can't help snorting at that. He takes a deep breath, the last bit of tension leaving his shoulders. "Well, uh, do you want to stay for services?" he asks.

"Can I? I'm not Jewish. And I'm dressed like this," Eddie says, gesturing at his clothes.

A Hellfire Club shirt, denim vest, gaudy rings, and dark jeans. It's incredibly Eddie, and something about it reassures Steve. He says, "You're with me, so not being Jewish is fine. And your clothes are okay, too. It's not formal."

"My shirt literally says Hellfire."

"Well, it's a good thing Judaism doesn't really have a hell."

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds, clearly full of questions, but then he just nods and climbs out of the van. Steve blinks and scrambles out as well, wanting to create some kind of buffer between Eddie and the congregation members who see a stranger and instantly become defensive.

The moment he's shut the door, he hears a little kid shout excitedly, "Steve!"

He whirls around in time to see a young girl rush across the parking lot, much to the shock and concern of her guardian. Thankfully, there aren't any cars, so the girl is unimpeded in her rush to Steve.

Eddie comes around the side of the van just in time to see the girl launch herself at Steve, giggling when he lifts her up and spins. "Yael! Have you gotten bigger?" he asks, smiling brightly as he comes to a stop and sets her on his waist.

Yael returns his smile with a grin of her own, tilting her head up so he can clearly see the brand-new gap in her teeth. "I lost a tooth! See? It came out last week," she tells him, practically bouncing in his arms.

By now, Yael's grandfather has reached them, smiling indulgently. "Yael," he says, his voice gentle but firm, "you know better than to run across parking lots." When she mumbles an apology, he looks at Steve, his smile turning warm. "Steve, it's been a few weeks. I'm glad to see you again, and you've even brought a friend."

Steve returns the smile and nods, shifting closer to Eddie. "Yeah, things got a little...chaotic in Hawkins. Oh. Mr. Adler, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, Elijah Alder."

Mr. Adler's eyes light up, and Steve suddenly remembers something incredibly embarrassing. "Oh?" he says, looking at Eddie with renewed interest, "So this is the famous Eddie Munson? I'm glad to see you've healed well."

Eddie blinks, glancing at Steve. "Uh, thanks. How'd you know?"

"Steve asked the Rabbi to include you during the Mi Shebeirach."

"The Misha what now?"

"Mi Shebeirach," Steve says, gently nudging Eddie with his elbow. "It's a prayer for healing."

Mr. Adler nods once, his eyes practically dancing with new gossip. "Oh, yes, you've created quite the stir among the Sisterhood, you know. They have a backlog of Mi Shebeirach cards and nowhere to send them."

Steve translates that information as "the old ladies have been dying to know who this mysterious Eddie Munson is, so Steve had better brace himself." His smile becomes a little strained. "Well, let's get it over with, then."

Mr. Adler nods and gestures for Steve and Eddie to follow as he leads them toward the temple. While they walk, Yael looks at Eddie, her eyes wide. "Why is your hair so long?" she asks.

"Cuz I like it that way."

"Oh. Why are you wearing rings?"

"Because they're cool."

"Oh. Why did you need healing?"

"I was hurt really bad."

"Oh. By what?"

"A bear."

"Oh. Are you Steve's friend?"

Eddie glances at Steve, meeting his eyes for a brief second before smiling at Yael. "Yeah, Stevie and I are best friends."

Yael smiles right back. "Steve is my best friend, too! He's super strong and can carry me without getting tired and makes the best hamentaschen at Purim!"

"Yael," Mr. Adler says, cutting off any continuation of the conversation as they reach the doors of the temple. "Why don't you go let the Rabbi know Steve has joined us?"

Her entire face lights up with joy. "Okay!" she shouts, wiggling in Steve's arms until he lets her down. She tugs open the door, straining until Steve smiles and helps her. "Thanks! Bye, Steve!"

With that, she dashes into the temple, her voice carrying Steve's name into the room full of other people. When almost all of them, including three children that Steve can see, stop what they're doing and look over at the door, Mr. Adler says from behind Steve and Eddie, "Brace yourselves, my boys. The wolves have appeared."

Steve groans as Mr. Adler pushes them both inside. "Should I be worried?" Eddie whispers, leaning in closer to Steve as the door shuts behind them.

"I apologize in advance," Steve tells him.

Despite his words, he has a large grin as the three kids shout his name and rush over, much like Yael did. They're followed by a few teenagers and their parents. The kids pounce on Steve, two holding onto his biceps and hanging from them as he raises his arms while the third clings to his leg.

"Where ya been?" one of the teens asks, her hair pulled back into a ponytail so permed it looks ready to burst.

"Yeah, man, I've been manning the oneg table by myself," another teen says, his arms crossed over a Metallica shirt. He's got piercings climbing up one ear and through an eyebrow, and his gaze moves to Eddie as he speaks, taking in the other boy. "Who's this?"

"Yeah," another girl asks, smiling at Eddie and batting her eyes in a way that makes even Steve feel uncomfortable, "who's your friend, Steve?"

"Kids," an older woman says, pushing her way through them, "you know better than to crowd. Shouldn't you be passing out prayer books right now?" Once she's managed to shoo the teens away, she turns her gaze on the children still clinging to Steve. "And you three, I heard Mrs. Rost needs help in the kitchen. Something about there being too many cookies to platter all by herself."

Steve suddenly finds himself weightless as the kids abandon him, dashing down the hall toward the kitchen. He smiles with slight relief and looks at the woman. "Thanks," he says, rolling his shoulders.

"Of course, Steve. Now, who's your friend?" she asks, looking Eddie up and down curiously.

"Oh, right. Uh. Rabbi, this is Eddie Munson. Eddie, this is Rabbi Sara. I, um, I was hoping he could sit in on services tonight?"

Rabbi Sara immediately smiles at them. She holds out her hand to Eddie, shaking firmly when he returns the gesture. "Of course! I'm glad to see you're doing better, Eddie. We've been a bit worried about you here," she says. She glances around before leaning in and conspiratorially whispering, "There's a betting pool on whether his name would be added to the Mourner's Kiddish."

Steve snorts, knowing exactly which members would have started that bet. "Yeah, well, tell Diane and Yakov they've lost."

Rabbi Sara barely holds back her laughter, nodding once as she lets go of Eddie's hand. "Well, how about I spare you boys from socializing more," she offers.

When Steve nods, she gestures for them to follow her, leading the way to the sanctuary. He glances at Eddie as they walk, taking in the way he's tugging on a lock of hair and looking at the hall around them. "You doing okay?" Steve whispers, leaning in closer.

Eddie glances at him, is silent for a few minutes, and then says, "It's a lot to take in."

"Service will be easier. Lots of music. You'll like it," Steve promises, smiling reassuringly at Eddie. He hesitates before adding, "And if you want to leave, just let me know. The important part was making sure people saw I wasn't dead."

That's not entirely true. Steve doesn't want to leave the Shabbat service. He misses the routine of it and the feeling of togetherness as everyone sings. But Eddie's comfort is taking precedence here; he's already given Steve a ride and has begun subjecting himself to Steve's nosy congregation. Leaving early if he gets overwhelmed is the least Steve can do, really.

The teen in the Metallica shirt, Sam, holds out two prayer books when Rabbi Sara leads them to the sanctuary doors. His gaze lingers on Eddie for a few seconds more before asking, "Dude, do I know you?"

Eddie blinks and raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. Do you?"

Their gazes hold for nearly a minute before Sam's eyes widen and light with recognition. Steve is bracing himself for the worst (you know, devil worshipper, accused murderer, wannabe criminal, take your pick). Instead, Sam grins and says, "Yeah, I totally do! You're in that band, yeah? The one that plays at Hideout sometimes? Corroded Coffin. Your music is metal, man."

Eddie returns Sam's grin, throwing an arm over his shoulders and leaning in close. "You know, you're alright. Always happy to meet a fan. What's your favorite song?"

"You played that new one last Saturday. Bats, I think. It spoke to me, man."

Steve stares at Eddie, wondering how he missed the fact that Corroded Coffin started playing gigs again. A curl of something like regret or maybe hurt begins to build in his stomach, and he's almost overtaken by it when Eddie nods and says, "Oh, yeah, that one's about Stevie."

"Oohh, dude, that makes so much sense now."

"You wrote a song about me?" Steve asks, successfully regaining Eddie's attention.

Apparently, Eddie sort of forgot he was there. His relaxed posture becomes a little awkward, and he removes his arm from Sam's shoulder. He clears his throat, tugging a lock of hair in front of his mouth as he says, "Yeah. Is, uh, is that a problem?"

"No," Steve says, feeling a reassuring smile tug at his lips, "but you should play it for me sometime."

"This is all very touching," a voice says behind them, "but can you take the flirting inside the sanctuary? We still need our prayer books."

Steve jolts and looks behind them, laughing awkwardly when he sees Rivkah, a woman in her early 30s, and her partner, Tamar. "Sorry," he says, grabbing Eddie's arm and dragging him through the doors.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie whispers, allowing himself to be pulled over to some chairs near the left corner of the sanctuary, "is everything okay? Like...are we...safe?"

It takes a moment for Steve to understand what Eddie means. Like, of course, he can't guarantee their safety. It's a synagogue. Every person here old enough to understand the world knows the risk, the potential for one person to show up and wreak utter destruction. Steve is about to say as much (and explain the temple's "worst case scenario" game plan) when he notices Eddie glancing at Rivkah and Tamar.

A light bulb practically clicks on above him, and he almost laughs at himself. He sits down and tugs Eddie into the seat next to him. "Yeah, we're safe, Eds," he promises, smiling softly when Eddie looks at him. "Rivkah and Tamar are married. I attended the ceremony. It was very nice. Tamar broke the glass."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, and he looks around the sanctuary with renewed interest. His gaze especially lingers on the people that file in, taking in the couples and families and groups that wouldn't make much sense outside the temple's doors. Steve is content to let him look, allowing himself to relax back into the seat and wait.

After almost 15 minutes, Rabbi Sara approaches the bema and smiles at everyone. "Good evening, and Shabbat Shalom," she says, nodding along as her greeting is returned. "I'm glad to see so many familiar faces tonight. And some new ones. The week has been long for some of us, but it's now come to an end, and we have gathered to celebrate its end, another week's beginning, and being together. Now, please open your books to page 47 for the L'cha Dodi."

Steve flips open his book as Anna, the cantor and the same girl who tried to flirt with Eddie, starts playing the guitar next to Rabbi Sara. "Uh, the book is backward," Eddie whispers, leaning close to Steve.

"Hebrew is written right to left," Steve explains, taking Eddie's book and opening it to the right page. "Also, don't worry about singing along. Just try to follow. If you don't know where we are, just nudge me. I'll point you to the right spot."

Eddie nods, looking almost overwhelmed, but Rabbi Sara starts singing before Steve can reassure him verbally. Instead, he just shifts so their shoulders are pressed together, flashing a tiny smile when Eddie looks at him before joining the rest of the congregation in singing.

Steve has to point Eddie at the right line a few times, but he doesn't mind. He's memorized the prayer by now, and the book is really just for show. He pulls Eddie up with the rest of the congregation during the L'cha Dodi, turns him to the sanctuary doors, and places a hand on his back to gently nudge him into a bow. Eddie blinks through it, following along but seeming overwhelmed by the entire process. When the prayer is finished and Rabbi Sara invites them to greet each other, Steve looks at Eddie with a smile (one of the most genuine smiles he's had in weeks), holds out his hand, and says, "Shabbat Shalom, Eddie."

Eddie doesn't hesitate to take his hand, leaning in close and returning the smile. "Shabbat Shalom?" he asks, speaking slowly to test the words and let Steve approve of the pronunciation. When Steve nods, Eddie's smile grows wider, and he whispers, "Shabbat Shalom, sweetheart."

That...that's a new nickname. And Steve doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe Eddie just wanted the pseudo-alliteration, but his smile says otherwise, and Steve feels like he's frozen in place.

And then a few of the kids dash over to him, shouting, "Shabbat Shalom!" at the top of their lungs and practically fighting to shake his hand first. Steve would feel honored if he didn't know they raced to beat each other to every adult.

After greeting, they light the candles. After lighting the candles, Rabbi Sara leads them into the next prayer, the rest of the service flowing smoothly with her as their guide.

The service is (beautifully, wonderfully, incredibly, thankfully) the same as always. Prayers are sung, and Steve can practically feel them in his bones. He's never been particularly religious (his mother would say they're more culturally Jewish than anything else), but he can't deny that the sound of over 50 people, young and old and in-between, singing together is an otherworldly experience.

They are singing a language that only a few of them actually know how to speak. Steve is reading a language that he wouldn't recognize outside of the prayer book. It's disconcerting as always, but also special, because he shares in the ignorance and devotion wrapped into singing words he wouldn't understand without the book's translation on the opposite page.

The Mi Shebeirach and the Mourner's Kiddish are Steve's sign that service is almost over. And for the first time in forever, Steve doesn't speak any names when Rabbi Sara calls for them. He sinks back into his seat, an unfamiliar relief easing tension he didn't even know he had anymore. But it's true. Everyone is fine, and they've all healed, and Steve no longer has to say Max's name or Will's or Hopper's or Eddie's. He no longer has to dodge questions or call up the Rabbi and ask her to include an extra name in the service.

And this realization, the sheer relief he feels at the simple act of staying quiet when Rabbi Sara's gaze sweeps past him, is almost enough to bring him to tears. His throat gets tight, his eyes burn, and his voice almost cracks when he joins the rest of the congregation in singing for those in need of healing and those who have passed.

Eddie nudges him gently, and Steve glances at him and then at their shared armrest. Eddie's hand is lying palm-up, a silent invitation, and Steve doesn't hesitate to accept. He slips his hand into Eddie's, interlocking their fingers, and feels infinitely better when Eddie squeezes his hand gently.

----

"So," Steve says, refraining from getting up as others file out of the sanctuary, practically tripping over kids racing to reach the oneg brownies first, "did you...like it?"

Eddie is silent for a few minutes, staring down at their hands. Steve almost pulls away, an apology ready on his tongue, when Eddie squeezes his hand tighter. "Yeah. It was...different. But good. I...there was more singing than I expected."

Steve grins, glancing up to see the sanctuary has mostly cleared, and stands. He pulls Eddie up with him. "Yeah, we sing most of our prayers. It's nice."

"It is," Eddie agrees, still looking a little lost for words.

Steve doesn't push. Instead, he pulls, leading Eddie out of the sanctuary. He gives their prayer books to Sam, grabs two tiny, sample-sized cups of Manischewitz wine, and gives one to Eddie. "Don't drink it yet," he says, nodding to where Rabbi Sara has her own cup and is waiting for the rest to be passed around.

Once everyone is ready, she blesses the wine, blesses the challah, and invites them all to drink and eat. Steve braces himself before knocking the wine back, the strong, warm grape flavor coating his tongue, vaguely reminiscent of cough medicine. He sees the same grimace on Eddie's face. "This is shit wine," Eddie whispers, his nose still scrunched as he tosses the cup into the trashcan like he can't get rid of it fast enough.

"Yeah. It's specifically for services," Steve says, "it's not supposed to be good."

"Right," Eddie mumbles, glancing at the oneg table, his eyes lingering on the desserts laid out. "Do you wanna stick around? You know, talk to people?"

Usually, Steve would. He likes catching up with the kids and teens, likes ganging up on them when their parents come around and playfully scold them, and he likes hearing the most recent temple gossip. But as he looks at Eddie, feels their hands still tightly holding onto each other, Steve finds he doesn't mind leaving early.

So, he leans in closer to Eddie and grins at him. "Or," he whispers, "we could steal an extra pack of brownies from the kitchen, sneak out the back, and eat them on the drive home."

Eddie returns the grin, amusement and eagerness practically dancing in his eyes, and says, "You read my mind, sweetheart."

Later, when Eddie pulls into Steve's driveway after an hour-long ride spent eating brownies, explaining different prayers, and telling him about old temple gossip, a different kind of tension will start to fester between them. Steve will delay getting out of the car, Eddie won't comment on it, and they'll slowly gravitate toward each other.

And they'll kiss. It will be awkward and taste like chocolate and end far too quickly, but it will be perfect.

Steve will pull away, a faint blush rising and his heart racing faster than it ever did with Nancy, and shyly offer to let Eddie spend the night. And Eddie will accept and spend the night and ask to attend Shabbat with Steve again and...

And so much more.

But for now, while he has no clue of the future that's about to start after an hour's drive, Steve glances around the crowded hall and pulls Eddie toward the kitchen.

After all, they've got brownies to steal.

[kedreeva]

So I live somewhere where certain foods aren't readily available. I'm looking to buy a house - smallish house, biggish land is an option(cheaper). I've never kept anything more ~interesting~ than snakes. I went to a restaurant in a city a few years back where I tried duck for the first time and it instantly became my favorite food. Would it be weird to uh, keep ducks for eating? I've no problem with butchering but I'm worried I'd get attached to MY ducks.

I can't really answer if you'll get attached, because I don't know you or your penchant for getting attached. I can answer that it's not weird at all to raise ducks for meat. There are entire breeds of ducks that are great to raise for meat (like muscovies or pekins). Personally, I prefer the muscovy breed because I find them to be adorable (lots of cool color morphs! they do a little butt waggling dance in a circle!), GREAT moms who take on HUGE clutches no problem, they don't require or play in large amounts of water the way pekins do, and they're not as noisy (they hiss, they don't quack). The boys also get quite large, without getting super fat the way proper meat pekins do.

Like that's just. Terrible. I assume they get belly rub sores. The meat is probably good, the fat is probably good cooking. But at what cost?

I can also say that most people do get somewhat attached to animals they raise for food, but I think that's an important part of it. Part of raising animals for food is understanding that you're giving them the best life you can up to the point of butcher, which is often better than whatever life they would have in a factory farm. Part of raising food animals is caring enough about them to do well by them, as the only gratitude you can show to them in exchange for their life. Part of raising animals for food is understanding that you are going to take the life of another creature, and I think that attachment is how we understand the weight of that decision.

Personally, I think that it's right and good for people to get attached to their livestock. I think it helps them remember that they're caring for a living creature that has needs and feels pain. A creature that is deserving of excellent care while alive. I see a LOT of people allowing animal suffering in the fowl world because "it's just a chicken" and the babies "only cost a couple bucks," and "they can be replaced." IMO, it's a particularly callous attitude to have, toward an animal whose life will be taken to provide for you. Even one whose life is dedicated to providing for you while living (eggs, milk, wool, honey, etc) deserves better than to be considered a Thing that can be allowed to suffer merely because it is replaceable.

Lastly, I can say that (for me at least) there's often a major difference between the attachment you feel toward a pet and a livestock animal. Part of it is expectations going in, part of it is time. For pets, the expectation is that you will have that animal for the duration of that animal's average life expectancy, and you can plan accordingly for allowing yourself emotional investment. For livestock, the expectation is that you will only have the animal until its butcher date, which is often quite early in their life. A healthy, well-kept dog you can probably expect a good 10 years from, a cat nearly twice that. The average butcher age for a pekin duck is 3 months old (for comparison, they have an average lifespan of 5 years before their bodies give out from growth and weight issues), for muscovies 3-6 months (with an average lifespan of 20 years). There's just not as much time to get attached in the first place, unless you're getting attached to your breeders.

So, is it weird to raise ducks for food? Absolutely not. Are you going to get attached? I hope so, at least a little bit. And I hope that you feeling that connection to your food source helps you to take excellent care of them until their time comes, and that it compels you to make their end as quick and painless as possible.

[chaisshitposts]

𝐔𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

What are code words?

According to Oxford Languages, code words are, "a word used for secrecy or convenience instead of the usual name for something." And the example sentence used beneath the definition is, "secret projects were identified by special code words." I briefly mentioned code words (also can be referred to as switch words) in a recent post where I discuss the importance of a manifestation foundation and how to create one.

How do code words work?

Code words are cues that mean something without explicitly giving details. One would automatically connect the code word to whatever definition that's been assigned to it. A code word can also be a phrase, or a trigger for those who know what the code word means. Sometimes hypnotherapists even use code words while hypnotizing their clients.

What are some examples of code words?

Look in the world around you, hospitals and law enforcement use code words. For example, in most hospitals they have code words like 'code blue' which could widely mean a patient requiring resuscitation or otherwise in need of immediate medical attention, most often as the result of a respiratory or cardiac arrest. On the flip side, law enforcement and even emergency dispatchers have codes as well, usually used in the form of a series of numbers that describe particular situations without needing to say anything but those specific order of numbers. Such as, in most American police code, a 10-00 code means that an officer is down or needs assistance. Do you notice how both codes are simple, short, but mean very specific things? The people that use these codes automatically know what these codes mean, subconsciously, without needing the wordy explanation on what they mean after they've studied, and associated those situations with this code. Codes make it easier to remember specific scenarios, the subconscious already knows what these codes mean. And in these professions, they are way more codes out there that we aren't even aware of, but they are.

How can I use code words to manifest?

Most people may already be using affirmations, askformations/afformations, mantras, and other manifestation techniques to manifest. However, there may be a possibility that someone wants to manifest a very specific, detailed scenario and do not wish to constantly have to remember and repeat those details over and over. So, why not use the examples of thoss mentioned above and create your own code words to manifest those very specific, detail-oriented scenarios?

Are code words more powerful than affirmations?

Code words are just as powerful as affirmations because they are all working to do the same thing! However, there is a belief that because code words are so short and can have many different ideas connected to that singular word or phrase, it can quickly bypass the resistance one may have about a certain topic or situation. Also, code words make it extremely easy to repeat a set of affirmations in a short amount of time. They are extremely powerful in their own way, but never sell affirmations short on how powerful they are as well. Both work amazingly!

Can you give an example on how to create code words and how I can use them in my manifestation journey?

I'll use myself as an example. Let's say that I want to manifest completely flawless, clear skin. Simple enough, yeah, but let's say that I want to get detailed on how I would like my skin to be. I could easily say an affirmation like 'I have my dream skin,' or something along those lines, but, I also want to get extremely detailed in what my dream skin would look like simply to appease myself. For example—

My skin is perfect. My skin is always flawless. I have no hyperpigmentation. My body is blemishfree. I have an even skintone all around. Every product I use on my skin makes it 1000x more vibrant and glowy.

That's a lot of affirmations to remember, right? Fortunately, we know about code words! So... How would I choose a code word? Simple, I've decided that I will use SKIN for my code word, and I will read my list of affirmations a few times, and my subconscious mind will automatically connect my affirmations to this single code word. Think of it like this— my code word is like a bucket and my affirmations/thoughts that I want to be true about this particular topic, will be what fills the bucket. When most people look at a bucket, they automatically think that it is to hold something within it. That's exactly what the subconscious will do when you give it that code word.

Can my code word be more than one word?

Absolutely! You can even make a phrase! Think of it as your own little secret.

Could I use code words for anything, and by anything I mean anything?

Uh, hell yeah. You can use code words for anything you could possibly ever think of, even for the void if that's what you're secretly wondering.

How would I use code words to manifest entering the void // waking up in the void, etc?

Easy. Write down some affirmations/ statements you wish to be true about the void, doesn't matter what it is, and then choose a code word to use. VOID is a good code word to start. Once you've gotten your preferred code word, all you'll need to do is repeat your code word whenever you think about anything involving the void. Or whenever you need to correct doubtful thoughts. You may also robotically affirm VOID if you so choose to. You can also use the code word for easy 10k repetition. There are many ways to use code words, feel free to experiment!

Can I use code words with psych-k?

I don't see why you wouldn't be able to, so, feel free to experiment!

Wait... this sounds a lot like the list method, are code words and the list method the same?

No, but they are definitely similar in their own way, and can even be combined if you wished to do so! Code words and list defer because lists would involve different things of different topics, whereas code words would involve affirmations dealing with a very specific topic of your choice.

How could I combine the list method with code words?

Create your code words, and then make a list of those code words, then you could affirm that every single one of your code words are true and always will be true. Think of it as drawing out a web of thoughts.

NOTES -> and there we have it folks, code words. I hope that ya can use this tool to your advantage, if you've got any questions, I recommend to always do research or if you'd like, feel free to send me questions! good luck, and have fun!

[wallydrling]

go away (or don't)

pairing: wally darling/reader

rating: g

author's note: gender neutral reader to the best of my ability! i'm very new to welcome home so please be kind @:)

ao3 (it looks so much better there! go to hell, tumblr!)

Your relationship with Wally, new as it may be, is not without its challenges.

The transition from friends to something more had been a bit of a sticky subject at first, tacky to the touch. But a dozen long conversations and drawn-out explanations had really cleared a lot of things up, and by the end of your first official month as Home's newest couple, things had seemed to be tilting towards hopeful.

Now, as you stand in the middle of Wally's living room, arms folded over your chest, you're not positive that you didn't rush into things.

You aren't mad at him. He is standing just a few feet away, face carefully blank, arms limp by his sides. He is nearly impossible to be mad at. But for all your talk of boundaries, you'd forgotten to discuss something very important with him; your dedication to your friendship with Julie.

"She spends the night with you," Wally says, voice even. "A lot. I don't even get to spend the night with you."

He'd been upset to find out that your twice-weekly sleepovers with Julie hadn't stopped even after your relationship with him kicked into gear. You hadn't brought it up during any of your discussions because you didn't think it mattered. You weren't– you aren't– willing to change anything about your relationship with Julie. You won't sacrifice it. It's too important to you.

"Julie is my friend," you tell him. It's important to keep a level head. Getting upset will only make the situation worse. "I'm not going to stop spending time with her just because you and I are together."

"She lies in your bed," he says. "With you. Beside you."

Bickering with him is…not what you expected it would be. Despite him being more in touch with his emotions than ever, it still doesn't transfer well into his voice. He speaks slowly, the cadence near-robotic, and it's difficult for you to decipher how intense the emotions that he's feeling actually are right now. He doesn't look mad. He isn't smiling, and his eyes are slightly narrowed, but besides that, he is a blank slate. It's as infuriating as it is confusing.

"Wally," you sigh, uncrossing your arms. "She's just a friend, okay? I'm allowed to have friends."

He tilts his chin up defiantly, and there it is–something to latch on to.

"I don't think it's appropriate," he says. "Frank and Eddie don't sleep in other neighbors' beds."

"You do understand that we can't model our entire relationship around Frank and Eddie's, right?" You ask, quirking a brow.

"You're not listening," he huffs. His hands twitch at his sides, fingertips curling into his palms. "You're being unkind."

"No," your jaw flexes subconsciously. "You're being unreasonable."

He lifts his eyes to the ceiling. "Home? Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"

There's a subtle creak, and a consecutive bang, bang.

"Well, there you have it," his mouth curls up into a smile, but it is smug and a little bit cruel.

"Wha–You can't ask Home!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up. "That isn't fair! This is between you and I."

He mimics your earlier stance by crossing his arms over his chest. It's a little off; a little clunky, but he gets the gist of it. He looks closed off, and hurt, and maybe angry. You can't read his eyes well enough. It's a learning process, and he is the kind of book that people spend hundreds of years decoding.

"I think you've overstayed your welcome," He nods towards the front door, and it swings open. "Goodbye, neighbor."

You don't move. He's kicking you out? Your legs feel like they've been cased in cement, and your tongue is heavy in your mouth. No. The argument cannot end like this. There has to be a resolution, or the two of you will never come back from this. Your relationship is too new to handle something so detrimental.

"Wally," you try. His name sounds soft and sweet in your voice because, for all the bickering and the mean words, you cannot be mad at him. You just can't.

"Please leave," he says. He shifts on his feet. "I think I'm…mad. And I really, really don't want to be mad at you, but I don't know how not to be. So, you should go."

You appreciate the fact that he is attempting to explain his feelings. That he's digging deep, and being honest with you. You know that it hasn't been easy for him, learning about conceptualizing emotions, and letting himself take the time to decode them. He has struggled. You've helped him through almost-panic attacks too many times to count. He gets overwhelmed sometimes, and you know that, even for you, relationships aren't simple. Standing up to you, it must be difficult.

"Relationships are hard, sometimes," you say, taking a step towards him. "It's normal to be angry with your partner when you both disagree on something very important. And…I know that trying to talk about it can be frustrating."

He relaxes just slightly at your words; you see it in the way his shoulders droop. He still has his arms crossed over his chest, but he is looking at you now, and his eyes go round at the edges. They lose their sharpness.

"Frank and Eddie disagree on things, too," you continue. "Being partners with someone means compromising."

"Compromising," Wally repeats. "But you won't–you're not compromising with me."

"Let's sit down and talk about it some more," you suggest, offering him a warm smile. "We should never intentionally hurt each other, alright? If my sleepovers with Julie have hurt your feelings, I want to make that right."

You take a seat on his sofa, patting the spot next to you. He hesitates for a moment, and then sits down, too. His ankles cross, and he folds his hands in his lap.

"You don't like it when I have sleepovers with Julie because she lies in my bed with me?" You ask. You're careful with your words, with your tone. You don't want to upset him further, or have him close himself off.

He nods. "I've read Julie's romance books, and when two people love each other, they always share a bed."

Ah, yes. Since the realization of his feelings for you, Wally has been in love with the idea of love. He reads Julie's silly, cliché stories, and asks Frank and Eddie questions that are perhaps a bit too personal. He is smart and curious, and he's always wanting to learn. This–all things romance– has just been his newest fixation. You're not sure that Julie's books or Frank and Eddie's ever-changing dynamic are the best references for him, though. He is not like the love interest in a romance novel. He shouldn't try to compare himself to anyone else.

"Sharing a bed isn't always romantic," you explain. "There are a lot of different kinds of love. But," you reach out to place a hand on his knee, soothing, and he lets you. Does not move away, so you take that as a good sign. "If me sharing a bed with someone else makes you uncomfortable, I'm willing to compromise. How about when Julie comes over, she lies in my bed, and I sleep on the couch?"

He takes a moment to think about this. You see the cogs turning in his head, the way his mouth straightens out, and then pulls down at the corners.

"Okay," he says. "I think that would be…okay. I would feel happier with that."

"And," you tell him, "you can't keep basing your idea of love around what you read in books, okay? All relationships are different. You have to learn to navigate it through experience."

"I just," he looks down, eyes closing for a second. "I have questions, sometimes. I don't know where to find answers."

Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, and his skin goes a little pink beneath your touch.

"Next time you have a question, just ask me about it, alright?" You say. Your thumb smooths along his skin, and you brush a bit of blue hair behind his ear. "We'll work on it together."

"I like how that sounds," he smiles, eyes twinkling beneath high noon's light beaming in through the windows. "Together."

Pleased now, he scoots closer to you on the couch. His mouth curves up, and he gets this mischievous look on his face that you've come to associate with his silly little antics. He dives forward and kisses the round apple of your cheek, darting away with a sweet, "muah!"

"So you're not mad at me anymore, then?" You ask, tips of your ears warm.

He shakes his head. "Not mad. Sorry I tried to make you leave earlier."

You take his face between your hands, and squish his cheeks until his mouth puckers up. He looks goofy and open and so, so happy. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press forward and kiss him on the mouth, once, then twice. The pink on his face goes deeper, and his ears turn red, too.

"I'm sorry for not taking your feelings seriously at first," you say. "I accept your apology. Do you accept mine?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Maybe a few more kisses will sway me."

You laugh, falling against his chest, and he wraps both arms around your shoulders. He is soft, and smells like cedar and sunlight. You breathe him in, and tilt your head back to leave a little kiss to his jawline.

"You drive a hard bargain, Darling. I suppose I've got no choice but to bend to your will."

You tackle him onto the couch until he's lying on his back, head propped up on the arm rest. You pin his wrists by his sides and leave chaste kisses all over his face, each one signed with a tiny smack, and a "muah!" He laughs, and it is still drawn out and slow and stale, but it is so very him, and that's all you have ever wanted.

He buries his devastatingly cute, "ha, ha, ha's" into your shoulder, and you kiss him and kiss him until the both of you are breathless, and the sun begins to set.

[little-spicy]

SUNRISE, SUNSET

!Orc Stucky x !Princess Reader

Summary: In order to save her kingdom from a war that would turn fatal, Y/N sacrifices herself as an alliance between orc and human.

❗️❗️WARNINGS; SMUT!!! 18+Tummy bulge; praise kink, size kink, etc.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Part 2

IT WAS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AS THE PRINCESS STOOD NEAR THE DOOR. She could hear the sound of her father shouting at his councilmen, his anger drowning out the fear that dwelled in the room.

"I REFUSE TO SURRENDER!" He shouted and as his councilmen stood silent one came forward.

"King Anthony as much as we refuse to accept it, whether we like it or not the Orcs have beaten us and our kingdom isn't safe." One of his men; James Rhodes said.

"If we lose then my wife, children, everyone is at stake for an attack." The King said and with a sigh sat down in one of the chairs.

"We could speak with their leaders, perhaps they'd be willing to compromise." Another man; Fury said.

"We'd be wasting our breath, what would they be wanting that they couldn't take from by invading?" Rhodes asked.

The princess could no longer listen and scurried away from the door as they hardening news weighed on her.

This war had been troubling ever since she was a child and to hear that everything was going to crumble. She remembered when her father had been in the war and now all these years had caused him to grey and her mother was just as tired.

Her little sister Morgana was only a child and if anything were to happen to her, she wouldn't know what to do.

"My lady, you mustn't be up this late." Her lady in waiting; Natasha said. "If you're found I'll be in heaps of trouble."

Natasha led the princess into her room and the princess turned to her as Natasha shut her doors.

"Natasha tell me about the Orcs?" She asked and Natasha turned so quickly her head could of gotten whiplash.

"Orcs are monstrous and strong creatures, strong as twenty men. I've even heard they've even taken maidens as wives." Natasha said. "But I-"

The princess drowned at Natasha's babbling as she thought of what Natasha said when she meant that Orcs took human women as brides. She chewed her lip in thought and her eyes widened.

"- never met an orc in person I-" Natasha was cut off by the princess.

"Can you help me get out of the palace?" She asked and Natasha looked confused.

"What do you mean? It's late enough as it is and-" The princess cut her off.

"Natasha it's important I need to speak to the leaders of the Orcs." She said urgently and touched Natasha's shoulders. "It could change everything."

"My lady if we're found-" Natasha was cut off again.

"I'll say it was my idea and that I ordered you, now come on." She said as she grabbed her cloak from her desk.

"What are we doing exactly?" Natasha asked her as she grabbed a cloak as well.

"To make a deal." The princess said and with that, Natasha grabbed a lantern and quickly lit it. Entering the hallway and leading the princess to what she think was her doom.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 

THE PRINCESS TURNED HER HEAD AS SHE SAW THE CASTLE FROM A FAR DISTANCE. The sound of frogs and crickets rang throughout the forest and fireflies could be seen faintly lighting it.

Natasha stood in front of the princess, lantern shining bright and their hearts beating rapidly.

"This where we go to find them, my mother spoke of the forest being the home of all creatures." Natasha said and as they stepped forward each step made a loud crackling sound. "Stay behind me."

"I trust you." The princess said and as she followed Natasha and her went deeper into the forest.

"You still won't answer my question, what are you going to offer them?" Natasha asked. "I mean what's more valuable than ransacking a kingdom? They aren't know to taking gold and leaving peacefully."

"It's for me to discuss with them." She said stubbornly. "It's a private matter."

"I can't believe the war is over though, do you remember when it first started?" Natasha asked and the princess shook her head.

"It's started when I was so young, it's been going on for 10 years." She said. "Morgana was born during the fourth year of the war."

"It's always remember the bloodshed but yet never remembering what started it." Natasha said. "I remember hearing the bells and the sound of my father being taken to war."

"So many men were put in the war." The princess remembered. "I remember my father talking to the crowds of men when I watched from my window."

"All of this to be for nothing." Natasha said bitterly. "What a way for the Stark kingdom to fall."

"Not yet." The princess said and suddenly they stopped as Natasha saw the glowing of a light in the distance.

"I think that's their camp, we need to lay low or-" Natasha was cut off by a low grumble.

"Well what do we have here?" The two girls turned around quickly as they stood in front of an orc. The princess had never seen one in person and as she stared up at the large creature, she was terrified.

Their strong and large stature made her feel like a tiny bug that they could squash at any moment.

"It seems you two little girls are lost and all alone." The orc chuckled and as he was about to touch the princess, she firmly slapped his finger away and looked at him.

"I need to speak to your leaders, it's very urgent, I beg of you." She said and the orc laughed.

"And who must you be?" He laughed and looked at her smugly.

"I'm princess Y/N of the Stark kingdom." The orc stopped laughing and his face turned stern.

"Well then, come with me." He said and she nodded.

"T-thank you." Y/N said and the orc ignored her and Natasha looked at Y/N in shock.

"We need to-" Y/N turned to Natasha quickly.

"No, we can't leave now, Natasha I need you to understand everything I'm doing is for the kingdom." Y/N said and Natasha said nothing as they began to follow the orc.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"SIRS, THE PRINCESS IS HERE TO SEE YOU." The orc said amusingly.

When Y/N and Natasha had entered the orc camp, everyone had turned to see the princess and her handmaiden following to whom they heard their name was Bruce.

Y/N looked as if she would throw up and as she stood in front of the two leaders, she felt as if she couldn't move.

"The princess? Well what a lovely surprise." One of them said.

Y/N looked at the leaders and saw them bigger and more large than most of the orcs in the camp.

One of them had dark blonde hair and a beard that went across their large jaw and their tusks getting lost in the sea of dark blond curls, he wore a bear skin that draped across his large toned body, and robes that was under it, gazing at Y/N with questioning.

The other who spoke, was a bit shorter but not by much, he was more thick and more muscle and his long brunette curled contrasted with his green skin. However on the brunette's left arm was gone and all that was there was a metal one to replace it. He wore a wolf pelt instead and he had similar robes to the other man and looked more deadly than his companion.

"I came her to talk to you, privately." She said as turned to Bruce and Natasha.

"Leave us." The brunette said and Natasha looked at Y/N fearfully. "Don't worry your friend won't be harmed."

"Come along little minx, I don't bite." Bruce said and Natasha looked at him unconvincingly.

"I highly doubt that." She said and as the two of them left, only Y/N and the orc leaders remained.

"What is it you wish to speak to us about?" The blonde one asked.

"About the war, my father doesn't know I'm here and I-" Y/N was cut off by the brunette.

"If you think we'll surrender you're out of the question, this war has been nothing but pain for our people, pain your grandfather caused." The brunette growled.

"Bucky, calm down." The blonde said. "What about the war, I understand you know that we've won and there's nothing we can do to stop that."

Y/N looked at them both and fiddled with her thumbs and but her lip.

"I understand that, I was proposing- a- uh- an alliance." Y/N said and as she waited for their response all she got was laughter from them and her face turned red from embarrassment.

"If you'd ever think we'd be allies your surely mistaken we've-"

"I'm willing to become one of yours' bride, I'll give myself to one of you if it means that you'll spare our kingdom." Y/N said and then came forward and got on her knees and had her head down.

Both orcs looked down at the princess in shock, their eyes widened as the princess stood before them and they could see that she was serious.

"You don't understand what your giving." Bucky said and Y/N looked up to him and a tear fell down her cheek.

"I do, I would be the most devoted wife, if you don't wish to I understand but-" She was cut off by Bucky.

"Steve and I are to share a mate, we are very serious about our mates. Once we've made this deal you can never go back, this will be your fate." Bucky said and the blonde; Steve nodded.

"B-both of you?" Y/N asked as she looked at both of them and they smirked.

"We share, and we've always had the notion of sharing our mate." Steve said and put his finger under Y/N's chin. "You'll be our princess."

Y/N gulped and nodded.

"I'll be your princes but only if you spare the Stark kingdom." She said and the orc men nodded.

"It's a deal." Bucky said and Steve suddenly picked up Y/N and she screamed. Steve put his hand over her mouth and her screaming was muffled.

"We aren't going to hurt, we just wanted to pick up our bride." Steve said and she stopped screaming but the fear never left her eyes as she looked at Steve. "Notify the clan, we are leaving. But not before the princess sends a message to the king."

Bucky nodded and as he left the tent with a grunt, Steve placed Y/N down to were he was sitting and grabbed a piece of parchment and a feather with ink.

"Send your message, then we must be off." Steve said and Y/N looked up.

"Can't I at least say goodbye?" Y/N asked and Steve shook his head.

"Knowing your father he would never let you leave and this deal has been struck, if he dares to break our deal than your kingdom will be in ruins." Steve said and Y/N shut her eyes and tears fell from her eyes and onto her cheek.

Steve looked at the small human and felt a pain of guilt, he wiped the tear away with his giant hand. Y/N winced and Steve once again felt guilt.

"Maybe one day." Steve said and the emotion on his face then disappeared as he got up and exited the tent.

Y/N watched his retreating figure and once he was fully out of site, she looked down at the parchment in front of her and a tear fell onto the sheet.

She fully comprehended what she had just done, she didn't regret it but nevertheless still felt waves of sadness as she wrote down each word, saying goodbye to her family on the paper, and the last words she would ever say.

"I hope one day you understand." Y/N said to herself and as she signed her name down on the scroll, she wrapped it up and sealed it.

As she did, she didn't notice her soon to be husbands entering the tent. She felt one of their fingers on her shoulder and she jumped.

She turned to see them with their stoic faces and she looked away and held up the parchment.

"It is done." She said and Steve took it and nodded.

"Come princess, time to leave." Bucky said and with no warning picked her up again and she gasped.

She looked up to him as he held her.

"Get use to it, you humans are such small and fragile creatures, our mate is not to walk." He chuckled and Y/N tried to ignore the heat rushing to her cheeks.

"I-I'm very fine with walking S-Sir." She said nervously and Bucky snarled.

"I wasn't asking." He said gruffly and took her out of the tent. Y/N looked and saw all of the Orcs looking at Bucky and more directly her. She felt like shrinking away, Bucky could feel that as she squirmed in his arms and glared at everyone. His gaze made them turn away.

"LETS MOVE!" Steve shouted and all of the Orcs nodded to Steve.

Y/N began to feel drowsy in Bucky's arm, the way he swayed her in his arms lulled her closer and closer to sleep.

"Sleep princess, we have a long journey home." Bucky said but Y/N had so many questions, but he fight was sleep was stronger and as she tried to fight, her eyes closed and soon her light snores could be heard by Bucky.

"Well Buck, this seems like a better bounty than gold, huh?" Steve said and Bucky smirked.

"Once we get home, get the ceremony started as soon as possible." Bucky said and Steve agreed.

"The sooner the better." Steve said and soon they began of the ceremony, looking down at their princess every so often and excited for what was to come.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was days later and they clan had traveled back to their home. It was already spreading like wildfire that their leaders were marrying a human princess.

Everywhere Y/N looked Orcs would stare and whisper. It was hard for Y/N to be in a strange place and to have the Orcs whispers but it wouldn't last long when Steve and Bucky would glare and pick her up, showing the clan that she was theirs.

She knew how possessive they were, it wasn't hard to tell when every moment they held her and cradled her. Every time they did it was hard for her not to blush.

She knew that they were gentlemen and could see how gentle they were trying to be with her but she knew after the ceremony it would be more than holding.

She was scared, scared of what to expect, she has been told of bedding. She was a princess of marrying age, it was told she was suppose to marry a prince from the Odin Kingdom.

But this was different they weren't a man and she didn't know if she was going to see something darker after the ceremony.

Of course she was more nervous once they began to explain that the ceremony was to be happening as soon as possible.

She could tell how much it meant to them as they explained how their mothers would say it was important.

Y/N was standing in one of the tents and dressed in a simple white gown. Her hair was put up and flowers were placed in her hair.

She looked at the mirror as Natasha did her hair, Y/N tried not to cry but her fear was overwhelming. She is trying to understand the orc men but she feels like a sheep ready for slaughter.

"We should of never done this." Natasha told Y/N. "I never should of listened to you, it's my fault."

"I don't regret what I did." Y/N said and as tear up, she wiped away tears. "It's just I wish I could be braver."

"Just keep your chin up." Natasha said, and Y/N nodded. "You'll be fine."

"I heard your going to be mated as well from what James told me." Y/N said and Natasha nodded and huffed.

"That guard Bruce ." Natasha said and looked at Y/N with a sad smile. "It already happened, while we were traveling."'

"Natasha I'm so sorry." Y/N said but Natasha shook her head.

"No it's alright, I may of judge him, and their kind a bit too soon." Natasha said. "He is gentle really- it's just I always though Clint would be my husband- and I-"

"Still I should of never-" Y/N was cut off by Natasha.

"No id rather be here with you than you alone."'Natasha said and finished the last touches. "Besides maybe the leaders won't be too bad, they have a beautiful and fierce princess as their mate."

Natasha let Y/N see her full look and Y/N looked at herself and for a moment forgot about everything and smiled.

"You look beautiful." Natasha said and squeezed Y/N's shoulder. Y/N was brought back to reality and let out a shaky sigh.

"Lets go to my ceremony." Y/N said and Natasha turned Y/N around to look at her.

"Give them a chance, I did with Bruce, what's the worst that could happen?" She said to Y/N. "Bruce took a vow and it's important to them with this vow that I know and I promise you that it won't be bad."'

Y/N listened to Natasha's words with a nod and Natasha led her outside the tent and there stood Bruce.

He was outside waiting and he bent down and kissed Natasha's forehead. Y/N looked at Natasha and Bruce and what Y/N saw was true. He looked like he was being careful, gentle. Not at all when he first met the two.

She could see Natasha needed time but she could tell Bruce would never harm her.

"Steve and Bucky told me to take you to the river." Bruce said and Y/N nodded.

"Is everyone f-from the clan going to be there?" She asked and Bruce shook his head.

"No, our ceremonies are very sacred." Bruce said. "Just the elder and our leaders will be there."

Y/N nodded and Natasha held her hand and squeezed it.

"It'll be alright." Natasha said and Y/N let out a shaky breath.

"Time to move, the sun is setting." Bruce said and led them down the path.

The fireflies glowed in the orange and purple hues of the forest. Y/N held flowers in her hand and at each step she felt sick.

She followed behind Natasha and Bruce and had her head down.

She wished her mother could of been to the ceremony, especially her father. She remembered her father telling her she would be the prettiest bride and that he couldn't wait for the day that he could dance with her.

But that sadly would never happen, she missed her family with every fiber of her being but always reminded herself it was for her family.

The farther they walked Y/N could hear the sound of the water flowing in the river. She could see torches lit in the distance, and flower scattered across the floor.

"This is where we leave you." Bruce said and lifted Natasha into his arms and nipped at her neck, which she blushed. Y/N looked away and as the two left her alone, she could hear Bruce growl.

Y/N looked ahead and saw Steve and Bucky in the distance and in between them was what she assumed was the elder of the clans.

Y/N gulped and walked to them and there they stood with special pelts and flowers on their pelts. They were groomed and could tell they had freshened up for the ceremony.

"This must be your mate." The elder woman said. "I'm Okoye, one of the clan's elders."

"H-Hello." Y/N stuttered and the warm smile of the elder calmed her.

"It is okay my dear, no need to fear." She said and looked at the two men. "May we begin?"

"Yes, please." Steve said and looked down at Y/N and for the first time, Y/N had seen joy on Steve's face.

"Yes." Bucky said and Y/N could see the same expression on Bucky.

"We stand here today in nature, within the glory of this land to bind you three together." Okoye began. "We treat our other half with love but most importantly trust, you have your cloth?"

Steve nodded and pulled out a blue silk cloth and Bucky a red one and held it out to her. She grabbed it and looked at Y/N.

"Come my child." She said and Y/N put the flowers down and held out her arms. Okoye was gentle and wrapped the two silks around her arm and tied them.

She then tied the blue and red together and both men used a hand to grab each arm gently.

"This binding is permanent, this is a symbol of bondage and mating, do you understand?" Okoye said and the men smiled.

"We do." They both said and Okoye looked down at Y/N once more.

"Do you understand?" She asked and Y/N nodded shakily.

"I understand." She said and Okoye nodded and grabbed the silk and with astonishments the blue and red silk began to glow.

Okoye's hand were glowing and in an instant the silk disappeared and she let go and Y/N stood there in shock.

"It is done, I now pronounce you mates." She said and bowed. "You may kiss the bride."

Bucky instantly grabbed Y/N and kissed her and she was shocked. Overwhelmed by the feeling of electric sparks from the kiss, she melted into the kiss. Gripping onto Bucky's arm.

Then Steve turned her around and did the same thing and kissed her as well. Feeling the same thing and touching Steve's face. She pulled away and gasped Steve got on his knees and put his forehead on hers and Bucky came up behind her and breathed down her neck.

"You are now one." Okoye said. "May Mother Nature bless your union."

Okoye bowed to her clan leaders and left the three in the flower patch. She blushed as she felt their touches.

"You're ours now princess." Bucky said and kissed her shoulder.

"We have a place to show you." Steve said and picked her up, she squealed and felt her heart race.

"W-where are we going?" She asked and Bucky tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Somewhere special." He said and the men began to grab a few things as Y/N stayed in Steve's arms, her heart racing and face red. Bucky grabbed one of the torches that lit up their ceremony.

They began to walk across the river and far away from the small place of their union. She watched as the only thing lighting up the forest was Bucky's torch.

She could see the sun had finally set and night time had begun.

The firefly's light would spark every few minutes, she watched as Bucky stopped and Steve covered Y/N's eyes.

"What are you doing?" Y/N huffed and Steve squeezed her leg.

"Little minx, we have a surprise." Steve said. "We understand we've made you give up so much, and that you've lived different from us so this is a gift for you, a wedding present."

Steve released his hand and Y/N was let down and in front of her was a barely built cottage, stones and axes close near a tree. In front of the building cottage many lovely lantern lit, display of flowers, fruits, and a blanket of fur laid down on the ground.

"W-what is this?" She asked surprised, her eyes filling up with tears.

"This is going to be our home." Bucky said. "We ordered it as soon as we got back, we've only laid down foundation and such but this will be our home instead of the tents in the camp."

"R-really? And this?" She asked as placed her knees on the soft fur.

"We understand that your scared of- of bedding, especially two Orcs like us." Steve said and got down on the fur blanket. "We want this to be a good experience for our mate."

"We want to show you we want to be good mates." Bucky said and laid got on his knees and took her small hand into his larger one. "If you let us."

Y/N smiled for the first time in front of the two Orcs and threw her arms around them. They were surprised as she tried to hug them tight.

"I'm so thankful- I've never in my life been gifted something so special and thoughtful." She said and looked at the home. "It's beautiful."

"Lay down, let us make you feel good." Steve said and laid her down on the fur. She let out a shaky breath as the two Orcs looked down at her hungrily.

"I've been waiting for this." Bucky said and leaned down and and began to suck on her neck. She mewled and laughed, feeling aroused and ticklish.

As Bucky kissed her neck, he grabbed her dress and ripped it immediately. She gasped as she was no bare, her nude body dimly lit from the lantern.

Steve and Bucky looked down at her body in awe, looking down to what they believe was heaven.

She tried to use her hands to cover herself up but Steve grabbed her hands and put it above her head.

"Don't hide your body from us." Steve said and put his head on the other side of her neck and nipped. "Body sent from heaven."

"Wonder if she tastes like heaven." Bucky said grinning.

Her breath hitched and before she could protest, Bucky got down to her aching core and with his long and thick tongue, he licked her core.

She jumped at the feeling as his tongue glided through her folds. She moaned as he dragged his slowly and touching her clit every so often.

"How does she taste Buck?" Steve asked as he gripped Y/N's side with his large palm.

"Heaven." Bucky said and wiped his mouth for a second. "Glad no man has ever been in between these legs, this is better than any drink."

Bucky dove back down like a mad men, he licked little kitten licks and used his two fingers to spread her lips open.

She felt the cool air and she gasped, until Steve bent down and kissed her. He growled into the kiss once Y/N began to tug on his hair. Steve pulled away from the kiss and began to suck on her breasts.

His tusks grazing her skin and making her moan.

"Let's stretch her a bit." Bucky said and entered his tongue into her core. His tongue going in and out, Y/N screamed in pleasure from the intrusion.

The stretch burned at first but with Steve kissing and marking all over her body, the pain was unnoticeable.

"You've been hogging her Buck." Steve said and Y/N had an idea and she couldn't believe she was about to offer.

"Steve- I can- I mean can I suck you off then?" She asked and both men looked at her with bewilderment. Steve's only lasted moments until he growled and immediately pulled down his garment and there his cock was there in all its glory.

She was very intimated to say the least, his cock had to be at least 9 maybe 10 inches. It was long and veiny, the tip of it angry and leaking, waiting for it to be touched.

"It's okay, let's take it slow." Steve said and touched her cheek with his palm. "Get her on her stomach."

Bucky flipped her over and began to eat her out again, she moaned out and Steve loved the view that was in front of him.

He watched as his friend began to devour her, and the site of his bride, mouth open and drooling had him ready to burst.

Steve rubbed his cock a few times before letting her grab it. She looked up at him with doe innocent eyes.

"What should I do?" She asked and Steve chuckled, and took her hands and let her hold it firmly.

"You can lick it, suck it, do what you feel is comfortable." He said and she began to lick up and down his cock, making him jolt.

She tried but her small mouth couldn't do it, she decided to lick the tip, and as her spit coated his cock, it was easier for her to move her hand up and down.

"Oh god." Steve shuddered. "So good."

Y/N moaned on his cock as Bucky used his finger and began to pump it in and out as his tongue licked her soaked clit.

"B-Bucky." Y/N moaned and Bucky moved faster and faster and she whined.

"S-Somethings happening." Y/N said and Bucky didn't stop but went faster. "Oh god."

She began to feel an overwhelming feeling in her tummy.

"Your gonna cum." Steve said and looked up and watched as she as mess as Bucky fingered her. "Bucky she's gonna cum."

Y/N arched her back and suddenly she felt the coil snap, the overwhelming feeling washed over her, making her quiver and legs shake.

She felt something pooling at her core and Bucky came up and was coated in juices.

"Steve she squirted all over my face, her juices just kept flowing." Bucky said and as Y/N was gasping for breath she didn't realize that Bucky lost his garments as well.

"I think it's time for her to take us, don't you think?" Steve asked and Bucky nodded.

"You take her first, I'm thicker." Bucky said and Y/N looked down and what he said was true. He was about 8-8.5 but he was thicker than Steve.

Steve came over and shivered as he looked at Y/N in her lust filled state.

"I'm gonna try and be gentle, okay?" Steve said and Y/N nodded. Steve put his hand down and Y/N grabbed it and rested it up against her face and sighed. "Ready?"

She nodded and Steve used his cock to slide across her folds and when he thought he had enough, he began to push in.

She gasped and immediately Bucky laid down beside her and soothed her with words. Tears began to fall from her eyes and tried to be strong.

The burning sensation was more apparent now as Steve stretched.

"Fuck me, this is the tightest cunt I've ever been in." Steve said and tried to hold the urge of fucking her senseless. "Like velvet."

"Your doing so good baby." Bucky said as Y/N began to breathe heavily. "You taking Steve so good."

"C-can I move princess?" Steve asked and Y/N nodded shakily.

Steve began to move his hips and slowly enter her in and out. She gasped as she soon felt pleasure over pain.

"How does it feel?" Bucky asked and Steve began to move his pace a little bit more.

"G-good." She said and Steve smirked at Bucky. "D-do you want me to-"

Bucky cut her off with a kiss and pressed his forehead against hers.

"No, this is all about you, trust me we have many nights for this." He said with a chuckle and sucked on her neck, leaning another big mark. She moaned loudly and it only stroked their ego more.

"Better than any man, you need to be fucked by someone who can pleasure you." Steve grunted. "Say it, say that no man would pleasure you like this."

Y/N had her mouth open but said nothing, Bucky used his finger to get her to look at him.

"He asked you to do something. Do it." Bucky ordered and cause Y/N to grip on Steve's cock tighter.

"N-No man would g-give me p-pleasure l-like this- oh god." Y/N said and began to whimper and feel herself getting close.

"Come with me princess." Steve said and used both fo his arms to hold Y/N up against his chest. Her warm filled cheeks pressed up against his hard chest.

She felt safe and contented and it only added more when Bucky came up from behind and held his palm up against her back.

"I'm coming." Y/N moaned out and lifted her head up and looked at Steve, grabbing his face and leaning it down for her to kiss. Steve growled and began to go fast as he reached his release.

He could feel the liquid spill on his thighs, causing his sex drive to increase.

A string of curses filled the air from Steve as he emptied himself inside of her. She felt his cock twitch in her and Bucky caught her before she fell back on the fur.

He rubbed her stomach as she felt knocked out, Steve chuckled and she could see the sweat off his forehead. His hair sticking to it as if he had run a marathon.

"Don't think we're done yet." Bucky said as Steve slowly pulled out, causing Y/N to wince from the empty feeling. "I still need to feel our gorgeous princess."

Bucky then switched places with Steve and Y/N felt his seed falling out.

Bucky thick cock went up and down her folds, collecting her slick and Steve's cum and making it a lubricant for himself.

"Alright princess, if you need me to stop, tell me." Bucky said and Y/N nodded as Steve massaged her breasts. Every so often pinching her nipple, making her jolt.

Bucky began to enter and this was another wave of pain as Bucky stretched her out more.

"It'll get easier over time, Bucky and I will never be satisfied." Steve said and squeezed her left breast. "We'll be filling you up almost every day and imagine our cottage filled with little ones."

Y/N was too hazed to feel anxiety, as Bucky's cock stretched her.

"Steve you were right, velvet." Bucky said and pulled out slowly, then pulling right back in.

Y/N winced and Steve touched her tummy and felt Bucky's bulge.

"You feel that? You feel Bucky cock so full inside you, it barely fits?" Steve asked and Y/N gripped Bucky's cock from Steve's words.

"You we're made for us." Bucky said as he began to set a pace. "Made to be our mate and mother to our children."

"Yes! Yes!" Y/N chanted and began to feel that same feeling of pleasure.

"Good girl princess." Bucky said and began to go harder and faster.

"Look at you taking a real orc's cock like a good girl." Steve said and kissed her cheek.

"Hell, just like that." Bucky said and began to slam into her causing Y/N to scream and arch her back. Bucky felt the same trickle as he did on his face earlier and saw as she spilled over his thighs.

"Yes princess, yes." Bucky said and just as he did Steve, he released inside of her. Both Steve and Bucky's cum coaxed her walls, claiming her as theirs.

Y/N began to breathe heavily once again and Bucky tried not to fall straight on her. So he gently pulled out and left her empty and yet full at the same time.

"Did I do good?" Y/N asked sleepily as both Orcs laid down beside her. Steve grabbed fresh water from the bucket they had and grabbed the ladle and helped her drink a bit.

"Yes, better than we've ever imagine, mate." Steve said and laid down beside her and placed his arm around her stomach.

"You did so good." Bucky said and put his arm around her chest. "Our princess now."

"But-" Y/N tried to talk but Steve shushed her and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Sleep now, we have plenty of time for talking." Steve said and squeezed her tight.

Steve and Bucky could hear her soft snores as she fell asleep after taking the two Orcs.

"Our princess." Bucky said and looked down at her claimed core. Shutting his eyes as well and falling to sleep.

"Best treasure." Steve whispered and was the last one to sleep.

The three of them laid on the big fur blanket and the only thing that could be heard were frogs and crickets that made sounds in the night.

The lantern began to dim, leaving them in the dark. The princess slept peacefully and for the first time since she's been with the Orcs felt completely safe.

OMG THIS IS A LONG ONE!!!!! Hope you like it and I might do more on this AU! Like, Reblog, comment if you like this and if you have any requests or ideas let me know!

I do Star Wars, Marvel, Harry Potter, etc.! 💕✨✨

[short-honey-badger]

Phantom Pain Part 4

No Money, No Problems

Have some fluff after the angst of the last part! Hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

@writingmysanity @foggyturtleknightangel @kenkenmaaa

It may not seem like it, but Shanks was always paying attention. He may look a fool laughing and drinking, but he never let his guard down. Unless he was on board his ship, lost on the Grand Line with his loyal crew, only then would the redhead relax.

Anyway, he was getting off track. Shanks constantly watched, logged, and cataloged anything that passed close enough for him to hear. And because of that useful little skill, the Captain found out some very important, at least to him anyway, information about you, his perfect soulmate.

On a rather lazy day on board the Red Force, Shanks and Benn were playing a game of dice when You and Limejuice walked past the men's barrel. Shanks had immediately tuned in to what you were saying, feeling your enjoyment at whatever the subject was and shamelessly eavesdropping.

"-I can't wait to get to the next islands. I want a pole so I can stop bothering you and Roux."

Poles? Like a fishing pole? You liked to fish? Shanks had stored that under the very important file with your name on it, and then went back to the game.

Now, a week later, Shanks is approached by none other than his soulmate after the cargo has been unloaded from the ship.

"What's up, Darling?" He asks as you come to a stop by his side. He can't help but to feel excited. Shanks knows what this is about, having never forgotten your little comment and he was reminded more and more of it the closer they came to the next island. You were still learning that it was okay to ask him for things, even the most trivial ones, and Shanks felt like this could be the moment.

He can already feel your embarrassed reluctance, but he stays silent and patient as you struggle to get out what you want to say, "I, hmm," You begin and then clear your throat. Shanks takes this as his opportunity to butt in. He just can't help but tease you.

"What's wrong, Baby? Cat got your tongue?" The redhead coos and then proceeds to stick his tongue out at you, snickering when you smack his chest. But you are grinning, and that's all that matters to him.

His playfulness does the trick, however, and Shanks feels your jumping nerves settle.

"I want a fishing pole so that I can stop bothering everyone else. The spare ones are pretty old, and what line you've got is frayed and breaks easily," You rattle off quickly and then frown, "I'm also a little short on Berri."

Shanks' grin turns shark-like as he stares down at you, "Oh, so you want me to buy you one?" he asks. He loves this. It's not about the money, absolutely not. It's about having you rely on him, asking him for something that you wanted just because you wanted it.

You frown, becoming a bit defensive in the face of his teasing, "Well, You don't have to, obvio-Mumph!" You scowl at your childish captain who has pressed his finger up against your lips, effectively silencing you.

"Now, I didn't say that, Baby. I was just picking fun," Shanks says and softens, finger leaving your lips to instead crandle your jaw in his calloused hand, "I'll get you whatever you want. You should know by now that we aren't exactly strapped for cash," And it was the truth. He is one of the four Yonko of the Seas. He had plenty of Berri to spend. Especially on you. He searches your expression, forcing you to look him in the eye, "Okay?"

You swallow, dipping your head in a nod as best you can, "Okay," You choke out and wet your lips. You watch the way his eyes dip to follow the tip of your tongue and shiver at the way his eyes darken.

"Good," He murmurs and then ducks in close. He can't help himself any longer. While the two of you had yet to do much when it came to the sexual side of the relationship, that didn't mean that Shanks didn't pine for you daily.

You could feel his interest spike and bravely angle your face up to receive his attention. It's only been a couple of weeks since the misunderstanding that had sent Shanks into a drunken stupor. Since then, the two of you have grown much closer, and you would even dare say that the redhead loved you, even though he had yet to say it out loud. He didn't really need to, though, when his side of the bind shined like a live wire.

Shanks closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss that has your eyes fluttering shut and a sigh of content passing through his nose. You surprise him by opening up for him and welcoming him tongue inside without prompt. You don't want this kiss to stop, hands even tangling in his shirt to tug him closer, but soon, your need for oxygen outweighs everything else, and you break the kiss with a gasp.

"We," you begin and then lick your lips, blushing when all you taste is Shanks, "We should go shopping now."

The Captain laughs and pulls away, and you drop your hands from his shirt, "I'd that's what you want, Sweetheart."

You scoff, not finding it very fair that he wasn't as affected from the kiss as you had been. You turn and begin to stalk away, but Shanks falls into step with you easily and snatches up your right hand to tangle with his left.

"There. Now, you won't get lost. And if you do, at least we will be together," He quips and is rewarded with you, snorting with laughter and smiling at him like he'd hung the sun up just for you. The bond pulses like a firework show, and Shanks would do anything to keep that. To know that he was the one responsible for your joy.

"At least I'll have good company," you tease and squeeze his hand while you drag him down the gangplank. Shanks promised you a fishing pole after all.