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#all but one of whom were adults who should know better
thevioletcaptain · 1 year
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the next customer to ask me "what's wrong with your eye?" is getting thrown into the sea :)
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drdemonprince · 6 months
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I was never really certain about my transition in the way that most gatekeeping hormone prescribers and curious members of the public demand that a trans person be. I didn’t “always know” that I was not cisgender. I haven’t “always known” anything about myself. Very few truths about me have always remained true, my existence is too interpersonal, contextual, and ever-evolving for all of that. (So is most everyone else’s, I think). I don’t think that the fact I’d eventually choose to exercise my body autonomy at age 30 by taking hormones is a decision I could have foreseen when I was a child. All that I knew about being transgender when I was a kid was a fact that most children intuitively know: gender assignment was a violation of my freedom, of everyone’s freedom in fact, and it was wrong. As an infant and then a child and teenager, people kept imposing labels on me; they kept forcing me and my body into prescribed gendered boxes, and while the specific labels and boxes never really felt like the right ones, the most disturbing part about it all was the forcing. No coerced identity would have ever felt right. Children can tell when secrets are being kept from them, and when adults are restricting their choices. They notice that they and the other children are being lined up boy-girl, boy-girl, without ever being told what a girl or a boy even is. They can see their parents frowning when they reach for the doll with the shimmery hair, or climb atop the neighbor kid on the playground. Kids know that they are forbidden from sitting with their legs spread wide or flicking their wrist, and their gender illegibility is shamed in them, long before they get any answers about what gender means or where it comes from or why it’s so important that they make themselves easy to understand.
Like the cloned children in Never Let Me Go who grow up being conditioned for a life of forced organ donation, children in a cissexist society grow up conditioned to fall within certain gendered boundary lines, and by the time they learn that the reason for this is almost completely arbitrary, they can’t imagine any alternative. Not until some of them hear about gender transition and find the prospect very compelling, for some reason. You can say that reason is because some of us are inherently trans, but there’s absolutely nothing in the way of brain science, genetics research, or even sociological data to back that up. Besides, the search for a biological “reason” that people are transgender or queer runs counter to the goal of queer liberation in the long run. Science only needs to explain the existence of transgender people (or queer people more broadly) if our existence is in some way aberrant or a problem. If queerness is accepted as a form of human diversity that simply exists, then there is no need to excuse it by claiming that it is never a choice. It can be a choice, if a person wants to make it, and hopefully it satisfies them, but maybe it won’t. Freedom to choose means freedom to forever be dissatisfied, to search endlessly for more, and yes, to capable of making a mistake. I would say that viewing myself as transgender was a choice. I decided to break away from the straight, female categories to which I had been assigned, and doing so allowed me to view the legal and societal power structures that had restricted me more clearly. It helped me better understand myself. But that does not mean the actual act of breaking away was always the truest reflection of who I am. The version of me that transitioned was a person on the run — and how a person behaves, thinks, and self-conceives when they are fleeing is not a great reflection of whom they might be if they were safe. If we all lived in a world free from mandatory gender assignment, and where our bodies were not mined for meaning about the kinds of sex we liked, the clothing we should wear, the personality qualities we have, the roles we should play in society, and the connections we are allowed to form with others, who knows who each of us might be. But none of us get to live in that world, or ever gets completely free from the frameworks of heterosexuality and the gender binary. These frameworks shape every legal institution we encounter, every school we attend, every item of clothing we put on, every substance we take into our bodies, every piece of paperwork that ever gets printed about us, and every look another person ever gives us. And so we make due with rewriting and recombining those frameworks as best we can. It should come as no surprise that those us who break away from the binary have to experiment and revise how we understand ourselves quite a bit — sometimes getting things “wrong,” sometimes searching forever for the semblance of something “right.” Sometimes reveling in the “wrongness” of all the available options is kind of the point.
I wrote about my detransition, retransition, and the eternal dissatisfaction that is probably the corest truth of my identity. It's free to read or have narrated to you on my Substack.
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thisonehere · 2 months
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The Lin Kuei boys find your diary and learn that you're in love with them
Mk Headkanons
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A/n: Here you are, the winner of my recent poll. Just a little fun headcanon while I work on another request. It should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.
Tags: MK1, Polls winner, invasion of privacy (but their hot so it's okay)
C/w: None
Bi-Han
This wasn't usually like Bi-Han, of all things the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was, invading someone's privacy wasn't one of them. Until today of course.
Today was the 4th time in a row that you were missing from your training session with him. He would've thought that being allowed to train with the Lin Kuei's very own grandmother would be considered an honor. Yet here he was, standing alone looking like a fool waiting for you.
Bi-Han does not like being stood up, especially not by you. You whom he holds in such a high regard. He has so much respect for, he is generally fond of you, he feels things for you he can't even explain. So he goes to look for you, bringing him to your room.
He enters with even knocking, you don't deserve such a thing with how many times you stood him up. When he sees you aren't here he turns to leave, still eager to find, to let you know how hurt furious he is by your actions.
But before he can make it to the door, he sees something at the corner of his eye. A book. No, not just any book. Your diary.
Bi-Han thinks such things are stupid, and a waste of time. Nonsense made for children not adults. Surely anyone who partakes in this are ridiculous...But...this is your diary, and he doesn't think your ridiculous or a child at all.
He picks it up, showing care as he holds it carefully in his hands. He inspects from front cover to the back with a perplexed curiosity. Why would anyone have this? Why would you have this? He holds you in such a high regard that he views such trivial things as beneath you. What could be so important you would need have your very thoughts and deepest darkest secrets left on paper.
He knows his brothers wouldn't hesitate to open it and read. But not him though. Because unlike them he has restraint, he has strength, he has-
Bi-Han starts flipping through the pages. There has to be something in here that explains why you've so distant and absent lately. His eyes scan each and every word like they have a sacred meaning.
He especially looks for parts where you talk about him. Surely you will speak with utmost respect for your grandmaster. Maybe you explain why you've been avoiding him too.
Eventually he finds a part where you bring him up, he completely ignores the part where you talk about his brothers and goes straight t6o part where he is involved.
He takes notice with how you talk about him. You talk about how you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were near him, the way he made your heart race, the fear you had that he'd notice you blushing, how much you loved him, you wanted to be with him until the end of all time. You then go one to say the dirtiest, the most depraved things he has ever read in his life about him.
But Bi-Han reads on. He takes note of all the nasty things you'd like him to do to you. Part of him is slightly appalled. The other is very amused.
After staring at it for a while, Bi-Han clears his throat and sits the book back to where he found it and leaves.
From that point on, you can't help but notice that Bi-Han has been staring at you whenever you were in the same room. He is noticeably more patient with you than he was before. In fact, it's almost like he's being nice to you.
He has never really thought of you in such a manner before, but now, now you have his interest.
Kuai Liang
Like his brother, Kuai is a man very respectful of other people's privacy...sort of. Kuai will respect your privacy most of the time, he'll try to at least.
Kuai had been looking for you all day, he wanted to talk to you about a very private Lin Kuei business. He also wanted to see you again, just hearing your voice made his day better. But you were just friends so he never told you about it because then that would make things weird.
Kuai gets to your door and gently knocks before he enters. He happily calls your name as he enters. When he sees that you aren't present he disappointedly turns to leave. But he catches something in the corner of his eye.
He goes to pick it up, he doesn't really know what it is at first. He's not as familiar with concpt as Bi-Han and Tomas. So he opens it and starts reading. It doesn't take him long to figure out what it is after reading the first page.
After that something clicks and he goes to put it down and leave. Or that is at least what he wants to do. He is so tempted to continue that he has to remind himself how wrong thus is.
To continue reading is wrong. It's a violation of you, one of his closest friends. Besides, he is an honorable man, he believes in duty and respect and-
Anyway, now he is sitting on your bed reading through your diary like it's the Bible. He's basically halfway through the books so he convince himself that it's far too late to turn back now.
He is specifically interested in reading what you have to say about him. So he flips ahead to a writing log where you mention him. Kuai takes a deep breath before reading, he generally hopes you like him.
You talk about how nice you think Kuai is, how cool, also hot he is. Pun intended.
It took Kuai a few seconds to process what you just said. He reads on, finding more writing logs about him and they all say similar things about how attracted you are to him. He gets one specific one where you were talking about all the things you liked about him.
Kuai was overwhelmed with all this affection you had on paper for him. At the end, you confess that you have feelings for him, that you were in love with him.
Kuai couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was on paper in front of him yet he still couldn't believe it. He sets the book back where he found it and quickly leaves your room.
The next coming days were tough for him. Whenever he looked at you, all he could think about was your words. He was still in shock, this all felt so unreal. He stares into your eyes and wonders how long you felt this way, if you still feel this way.
He wants to come up to you, tell me that he feels the same way. But that would also mean he'd have to confess about reading your diary. Would you be forgiving if he tells you? Maybe, you'll just need time to forgive.
He will just fantasize about the potential future he could have with you if everything goes. Please, Elder gods of you're listening, let things go well.
Tomas
Tomas is a sweetheart, that is known. But he is also a very nosey sweetheart. Unlike his brothers, Tomas is a very curious person. That often is much to his and others slcurgrine
He comes to your room with the hopes of being able to hang out with you. Kuai and Bi-Han were always so busy so it was often you two who hung out the most.
Tomas enjoys the time he spent with you. Bi-Han and Kuai can often be pretty intense for him to be around, so he finds comfort with being just with you.
After knocking a few times he enters, much to his disappointment you aren't here. He goes to leave hoping to find you, until he notices your diary. It caught his attention the single second he laid eyes on it. He immediately recognizes what it is, he has one himself.
The thoughts of opening and reading all your dark and dirty secrets pop into Tomas's head instantly. I can't, he thinks. How could I possibly do this to you? I would be violating your personal space. There could be something in there that is really embarrassing, or be about your deepest darkest desires, maybe even someone you might have a crush on.
Tomas tries to fight off the temptation to read it, but he fails. He carefully picks up the book and opens it. Already he feels filthy with guilt.
He begins to look through it, every page feels like a sin to read, but he couldn't stop reading. The thrill of it all kept him going to the point that he already got through almost half of the book. He laughed at your most embarrassing stories, he felt sad when you expressed any tragedy or hardship you faced, he felt overjoyed at your victories.
He felt pretty good...until you began to talk about him and his brothers. At this point he got nervous at what you could potentially think about him and his brothers, especially him. It was pretty standard things, you thought Kuai was nice, Bi-Han was a hothead, and you thought Tomas was cute...wait...
Tomas's eyes grew ten inches wide at this. What? N-No, that's all wrong he has to read it again. Cute? What do you mean cute? Cute as in nice, o-or as in attractive. Surely you meant as in kind.
He flips forward, finding another log where you talked about him. Here you go into much more detail about how you felt towards Tomas, how much you loved, the way he made useful so giddy, you just wanted to plant kisses him all over his cute little face.
Tomas, jaw on the floor and eyes wide opened to the point of almost popping out, couldn't believe what he was reading. He cheeks were turning red with blush and he was without words as he continued reading. Okay, now he really regrets reading this.
In a panicked state, Tomas throws your book somewhere and runs out of your room.
The next few days were hell for Tomas. He felt like such a horrible friend. He betrayed your trust and privacy, and now he knows that you're in love with him. He feels horrible whenever he sees and remembers what he's read, how he invaded your privacy.
As he continues, Tomas can't help but think of you differently now. He fears that he's falling in love with you now. He thinks. He doesn't know.
Gods, he just wishes he never opened that book. Now he has developed feeling for you in such a rapid pace, he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he'll just have to confess to reading your diary.
He plans too eventually, the guilt eats him up every day. He just needs to work up the courage to do so. Hopefully you won't hate him, please don't hate him.
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sp0o0kylights · 9 months
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Steve’s mother was the black sheep of her family.
Stella hated the snow, and the isolation of the small town she grew up in. Hated the bright colors, and sheer friendliness of the neighbors. How everyone was always involved in each other’s business, at all times--and how getting involved meant sharing.
Giving up your time for the greater good.
‘We’re one big family!’ Her father had told her, and hadn’t understood why she found the concept utterly revolting.
Just like she couldn’t understand why they never agreed with her ideas. Things would run so much more smoothly with more rules, better regulations. They didn’t need to rely on magic when they had spreadsheets.
Who cared if some people were upset? If some of the workers where put out of jobs, or “hurt” by her changes?
That was how evolution worked.
The strongest survived, and the business world demanded only the strongest of leaders.
She didn’t regret leaving.
Didn’t look behind her for a second, all too happy to go to college and find herself a rich man to make miserable.
Even had a child, though they were never her favorite things. Her Steven of course, would be so much different from the children she’d grown up among or the ones she helped oversee for her father's work.
He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t shriek or scream or make demands of busy adults. Steven would know his place, and he would stay in it until he had grown into a reasonable adult.
No unrealistic expectations, not from her son.
And absolutely, 100%, no magic.
(Unfortunately for Stella Harrington and her relationship with her son, magic does not obey the whims of one person.
Particularly not that kind of magic, one far older than Stella could comprehend.)
See: Steve knew where he came from. Would never say it of course, outright refused to put a name to it.
Knew better, even when he was young, than to speak it aloud.
Though his mother had long abandoned any powers given to her, Steve was still born with his. When lonely, he often found he could wander into a different kind of woods. 
One absolutely covered in snow.
Steve should have been cold in those woods, but he never was, not even the first time he stumbled into them at the tender age of seven.
These trees never scared him. Not like the ones in his backyard sometimes did.
The whole place felt rather welcoming in a way his own house had never been, and as Steve had stumbled along following the faint glow of lights, he found himself feeling more relaxed.
Happy.
Even at seven, Steve was smart enough to know he needed to turn back, after a while. That his mother would be furious with him if he caused her to miss the meeting she needed to go to.
That he had a responsibility to be where she put him.
He hadn’t crested the hill yet. Hadn’t quite figured out where the glow was coming from, when he realized he needed to go home--but his trip wasn’t wasted.
A baby reindeer distracted him.
It peeked around a tree, and upon seeing him, came dashing his way.
Steve should be scared, would have been scared, but something in him told him this creature was his friend. He held out his hands and greeted it as such.
He was right.
A few more little reindeer came up over the hill, running around him, and together he played what felt like a game as he walked back in the direction he thought his house lay.
Said his goodbyes when the snow started to wane and made promises to return.
Found, sadly, that he wouldn’t get another chance too for almost a full year. He was too busy, signed up for multiple sports, handed over to tutors and taught life skills by a parade of nannies, none of whom ever stayed for long.
He dreamed of the snow.
The gentle way the woods felt.
It was what made him tell the lie that let him go back.
Steve was eight by then, and smart to how his parents and nannies worked. That some of them overlapped their stays when his parents went away.
So it was easy to tell Mary that she could go.
That it was okay, really. Carla had just called, she was on her way.
Just like it was easy to tell Carla that his parents' plans had changed. Let her know she wasn’t needed after all.
What harm would it do if he was alone for a night? His father kept telling him he was a big boy. Soon he’d be on his own anyway.
The snow found him faster this time, when he went for his walk in the woods.
Delighted, Steve kept an eye out for the reindeer, fingers skittering across tree bark as he looked around, once again tracking the soft glow that came up over the hill.
It was a long walk to that light, but Steve didn’t mind.
Not until he heard the crying.
“Hello?” Steve called, voice prim and proper as always. It was a little high--Tommy teased him endlessly about it, but he had been assured it would deepen.
The crying didn’t stop, but things got quiet for a moment, in the way that happens when someone was trying hard not to be found.
(Steve knew exactly how that felt, not wanting to be found. Wanting to cry for a moment, without someone telling you to toughen up, be a man, ‘God Steven you’re too old for all this--’)
“It’s okay!” Steve rushed out, trying to locate where the muffled sounds were coming from before they ran away. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”
Which is right about when he almost tripped over the other kid.
He was hunched against a tree, knees drawn into his chest with brown hair hanging into his eyes. His clothes were a odd--a little like how his teacher had made Steve dress when they’d done a play about the middle ages.
“Who’re you?” The boy asked defensively, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
“I’m Steve.” He said, before kneeling down himself. “Did you get hurt?”
“No.” The boy sniffled. After a moment he added; “M’ Eddie.”
His eyes were large, and reminded Steve of a puppy he once saw. All cute and round and shiny.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The boy said and it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t friendly.
“I’m not from around here.” Steve told him. “At least, I don’t think I am.”
It was kind of hard to know, given Steve wasn’t sure where here was, exactly--and absolutely knew better than to ask his parents.
“Well then you should go home.” The boy sniffled again.
Steve wasn't put off by it. Tommy had been a lot meaner than this after all, when they'd first met. 
Given their parents made them play together anyways, Steve felt he he could get this kid to like him too. 
"I'm gonna, later. I'm looking for something right now though--you wanna come?" 
Which he felt was a pretty nice offer. Might distract Eddie from whatever was bothering him.
(Steve liked distractions, when he was upset. It made it a lot easier to swallow down the bad feelings.) 
“You shouldn’t hang around me.” Eddie said suddenly. His nose was as red as his eyes, and he refused to look Steve in the eye as he hunched further into himself. “I’m bad.”
“You’re not bad.” Steve told him. 
He got a glare for it.
“How would you know?”
“I dunno.” Steve stopped, brows furrowing in thought. “I just--kinda do. I always have.”
Which was true. Steve was awfully good at identifying who was good and who was bad, from adults to his fellow classmates. It had gotten him in trouble before his mother had sat him down, and told him he just had a good business sense.
That he needed to keep to himself who was good and who was bad, especially the adults, because it wasn’t his place to say such things.
(‘But it’ll serve you well in the future.’ His mother told him, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. ‘Particularly for business deals.’)
“Well you’re wrong then, because I was born bad.” Eddie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Everyone says so!”
It was dramatic as hell, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.
“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, when Eddie’s face flushed angrily. “I’m sorry it’s just--you look kinda silly.”
He mimed Eddie’s stance for a moment, including a dramatic little huff of breath. It unbalanced him, and Steve ended up dropping on his butt, which made him to laugh even louder.
“No one who does that can be bad.” He said finally, through the giggles. 
“That’s--stupid. You’re stupid.” Eddie said, except he was clearly trying to hide his own laugh at Steve’s antics.
“I’m not stupid--and you’re not bad. I promise.” Steve said, before reaching out a hand, one pinkie extended. “I’ll swear on it.”
“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked him, but he didn’t sound sad now. More curious. 
Curious Steve knew, was a lot better than sad. 
“You wrap your pinkie finger with mine. Then it’s a pinkie swear, which is like--unbreakable!”
That’s what Carol had told him at least, and so far it had held true. Steve figured it must work doubly so, in a place like this.
Cautiously, Eddie reached out, entwining his pinkie with Steve’s. Like any minute Steve would snatch his hand back, and tell him it was all a joke.
Instead, Steve bobbed their hands up and down once, before letting go and asking; “Do you wanna go find that light with me? I wanna see what it is.”
He pointed up the hill, toward the glow that had haunted his dreams.”
“Oh that’s boring.“ Eddie told him, but he had a grin on his face that felt infectious. “It’s just the town. I’ll show you something way better!”
“Yeah?” Steve asked, and let Eddie snatch his wrist, launching to his feet and bringing Steve with him.
In doing so his hair blew, revealing that he had pointed ears.
Steve stared at them in awe as Eddie tugged him further into the trees, until they burst into a clearing filled with gingerbread houses. They ranged from teeny tiny, to large enough that Steve and Eddie could walk in them, and it wasn’t long before the two started a game of tag, broken only by laughter. 
In retrospect, this was his downfall.
Because the little gingerbread houses were really cool, and Eddie was a lot of fun. It was easy to play with him--like the two of them had been made for each other.
Steve had never connected like this with a person before. Never had so much fun with someone before.
Not even with Tommy and Carol, his very best friends.
Eddie seemed to feel the same way, and not even an hour into meeting him, Steve knew he would remember this for the rest of his life.
Remember Eddie.
Steve ended up losing track of time. Stayed so long that his lie was discovered.
The person who came looking for him wasn’t his parents, but looked weirdly like his mom--if his mom were a boy.
He introduced himself as Steve’s Uncle Nick after he called the two boys to him, hands on his hips in a way Steve kind of wanted to mimic.
Steve knew it to be true, in the same way he knew how to find the forest, and if someone was good or bad. A feeling inside him he could tap into, warm and fuzzy in a way that, should he ever be pressed, he might admit to feeling like magic.
“Now how did you get here?” Uncle Nick asked him, like Steve's presence was a surprising little puzzle.
Knowing better than to lie, sensing that his Uncle would be able to tell if he did anyways, Steve told him the truth.
It got him exactly what he expected, which was an upset adult.
Unlike his mom or dad however, his Uncle didn’t yell at him, or grab Steve’s hand in a punishing grip. No nails dug into his skin, no harsh words were hissed. Uncle Nick simply pinched the tip of his nose, before giving a sigh that shook his massive frame.
“Your mom is going to be very upset.” He said finally.
Like Steve didn't know. 
“I just wanted to see the lights.”
“The lights--oh.” Uncle Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Could you see them from your house?”
Steve shook his head.
“No but I could feel them.”
Like a pulse in his chest. A compass, or--a guide.
“He says he can tell who's naughty or nice.” Eddie chimed in, oddly quiet for how loud he had been. “He says I’m good.”
This was said as a challenge, and Steve eyed his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He’d never dared speak to an adult like that, and was both a little in awe of Eddie doing it, and afraid for him.
Something his Uncle seemed to sense.
“Edward, go home.” He said, firm but kind.  Not like how Steve's mom was when she was mad, or his dad when he had a bad day at work.“I’ll come talk to you later. Come on Steve, let me walk you back. I best explain this in person.”
Then he took Steve’s hand in his, while Steve called out a goodbye to Eddie over his shoulder.
“You’ll come back and visit, right!?” Eddie yelled back. 
Steve shouted an affirmative, even knowing it wasn’t likely he’d be allowed.
(Wished with all his heart, that he'd be allowed.) 
“Eddie is really good, you know.” Steve said once he no longer could see his new friend, because it felt important to tell his Uncle that. Necessary, for some reason.
“I know.” Uncle Nick replied gently. “But let’s not worry about him right now, okay?”
“Okay.”
Then they were back in Steve’s woods, the ones that were sometimes unfriendly. In his backyard, and up to the door, and even from here Steve could hear his mother and father screaming at each other, in a tone that made his stomach curl.
“Come on kiddo. Time to face the music.” Uncle Nick told him, and Steve found he really didn’t want to let go of his Uncle’s hand.
He did though.
He was a big boy, and well trained. He didn’t flinch from his parents. Didn’t disobey when his mother demanded he tell her exactly how he got to the fun place, with all the snow--and listened further still when she demanded Uncle Nick take it out of him.
Take what Steve didn’t know--not until his Uncle lost the argument.
Reached into Steve’s chest and did something to him, something that killed that warm and fuzzy thing that had always lived inside Steve.
He cried harder than he ever had before that night. Cried and begged for Uncle Nick to put it back, that he was sorry and he wouldn’t ever use it again if they just let him keep it.
(He promised, he promised, he promised-!)
Sank to his knees and told his parents that it hurt.
They didn't listen, and they didn't put it back.
His father told him to get up off the floor, and then pulled him up when Steve found he couldn’t.
Hauled him to his room, even as his Uncle warned his mother that he couldn’t get rid of it. That he could only suppress it, the same way she suppressed hers, but those words didn’t really matter to Steve just then.
Not when he was hurting, and tired, and found himself wishing for his new friend.
(His mother told him he’d feel better in time.
Steve never did.)
xXx
The hole in Steve’s chest had never filled.
It kept him up at night. The yearning for something just out of reach, tormenting him with a feeling of being hollow.
He didn’t know how his mother could stand it.
Steve stopped fussing about it though--or rather, he stopped the first time his father had slapped him over his complaining.
“Enough, Steven! You’re perfectly fine. Now start acting like it, for fucks sake!” He’d roared, and shocked as he was, Steve had still done what he’d been taught to do.
Toughed it out. Sucked it up. Got over it.
Dumped his entire life into basketball and swimming and other parent-approved activities, even if he felt empty.
He was eight, then ten, then fourteen and soon Steve wasn’t healed, but he'd adjusted. 
Got aloof to the pain as his popularity skyrocketed, and his parents left him on his own while they chased the almighty dollar.
(Secretly, Steve tried to fill the void in his heart with parties and people, alcohol and even the occasional drug, though most just left him feeling worse than before.
It was perhaps how he ended up acting as he did.
Turning from the sweet boy who was always helping others, to someone who was fast with their insults. Popularity was a sharks game, and though he refused to participate in the bullying his friends enjoyed, he made sure everyone knew who the biggest fish in the pond was.
Because the hole was always there, in the back of his mind. The thing inside him that was missing, that made him crave the snow, and the lights, and the boy with pointy ears. 
He might be able to force himself to forget about all of that, if only the hole in his heart would allow him.)
xXx
Five days before his fifteenth birthday, some random guy showed up in Steve’s yard.
This wasn’t unusual--Steve invited a lot of people over.
Tommy and Carol both had a standing invitation to use his pool and Steve often used it to curry favor with the upperclassmen--but even underwater, Steve didn’t recognize the teenager leaning over to watch him swim.
Plus it was a little weird for someone to pop up on a Sunday.
Refusing to be intimidated, Steve surfaced right under the guy, head whipping up to make sure he splashed him in the face.
Laughed as the other guy sputtered.
“Can I help you man?” Steve drawled, hooking his arms on the lip of the pool.
“I’m looking for someone. Steve Harrington?” The guy told him, glaring as he wiped water off his face.
His hair just touched his shoulders, in that awkward stage of growing out that made him look like a pageboy.
Steve tucked that little observation away for later, in case he needed it.
“Congratulations, you found me.” He said, eyeing him over.
Black jeans with holes in the knees, wallet chain and a black shirt with a faded logo of some band Steve had never heard of proudly displayed. A checkered plaid shirt topped the whole outfit, with a red guitar pick dangling around his neck from a chain.
Like the guy thought he was some kind of rockstar, and not in bumfuck Indiana.
Steve raised an eyebrow.
“Though I think you’re in the wrong place. The audition for the new town jester is being held at the high school.”
He got a frown, like the guy knew he was being insulted but didn’t quite want to believe it. “I’m not here for an audition.”
“You sure? Cause you’re definitely dressed the part.”
“Okay, you are definitely not Steve.” He said, arms crossing his chest. He had a ring on each hand, catching the light as he clutched at his arms. “Steve wasn’t this much of a dick.”
Which wasn’t the first time Steve had been called out for his behavior--but it had never been by the people he was supposed to care about.
Those people, the people his parents liked?
They loved it.
“Times change.” Steve told the stranger. Kept his tone light and playful, the way that always made girls giggle at him and guy’s listen.
Well the ones he wasn’t making fun of, anyways.
“People do too.”
He rearranged himself, planting both palms flat against the concrete, bouncing once to build energy before rocketing out of the water.
Stood, and watched with interest as the new guy’s eyes raked over his naked torso, before his whole face flushed red.
How he looked away, like he suddenly couldn’t bare to look at Steve.
“You shouldn't have changed that much.” He muttered, but Steve already had his number.
"Why were you looking for me anyway?” Steve asked as he went and grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around his waist, but kept his upper body shirtless.
Idly scratched at his hip and watched as the guy acted like Steve had practically stripped naked in front of him.
Weirdly enjoyed the little spark it gave him, to watch this guy appear so affected by his bare chest.
Defensive, the stranger bit out; “We were friends. I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just checking up on him.”
That made Steve pause.
Really look over the guy standing before him.
The fidgeting, the blushing, the way he avoided Steve’s gaze.
He opened his mouth, an odd urge to draw this out guiding him when the hole in his chest pulsed.
Like a convulsion, a miniature seizure that took Steve entirely by surprise.
It had been a long time since it had done that, long enough to throw Steve off his game.
Make him feel unsafe, unmoored.
Abandoned.
“Yeah?” He wheezed, before covering himself and the flood of wrong/want/need with a harsh cough. “Well now I know you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’d never be friends with a fucking queer.”
At that, the guy’s mouth dropped open, head whipping around to stare at Steve in shock.
"Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re practically drooling over there.” Steve smiled with all his teeth, even as he struggled to keep his breath even. “It’s disgusting.”
“You know what, fuck you. I thought you were different and you’re not.” The stranger spat, with far more venom than Steve was prepared for. “You’re the same as all the rest.”
He scoffed, before whirling on his heel, middle finger high in the air as he stormed off into the woods.
“Have fun with your sad, beige fucking life!” He yelled, voice a little choked up.
“I will!” Steve yelled back at him, oddly heated.
Rubbed his chest when he was gone, before sitting down to try and figure out what the hell just happened--and why the hell his chest hurt so much.
xXx
Steve’s life remained completely and painfully normal--until Nancy Wheeler.
Nancy and her smile, Nancy and her reminder of what it felt like to be loved. 
She didn’t fill the void inside him, but what she did came close.
Felt similar.
Steve found he’d do anything for her, looking at life once again through the lens he had back when he was seven.
It was great.
Better than great--it was the best he’d ever been.
Then Barb went missing.
Shit hit the fan so fast that in retrospect, Steve still doesn’t understand it. There was Jonathan and his camera, with the background of his missing little brother. Tommy and his insults, grabbing Steve up by the collar. Nancy being weird, Nancy ducking him to hang out with the guy who took photographs of them having sex.
Steve's brain tracks it all in little snapshots. The way he realized that maybe Nancy was right--he was way more of an asshole than he thought. How he decided to clean the theater, and then apologize to Jonathan.
(Creepy shit or not, Jonathan’s brother was gone. Steve had never had a brother, but he understood how it felt when something important was taken from you.
How it made you act after.)
There was a shift inside him. Not coming from the void, but from how Steve dealt with it.
And then there was a fucking monster coming out of the ceiling.
This is how Steve learns the magic he once had wasn’t special. That it’s not the only supernatural thing that exists in the world.
Only unlike the snow and gingerbread house and boy with pointed ears and an Uncle that looked a hell of a lot like Santa Clause, this version came with evil government laboratories, the Upside Down and his girlfriend holding a gun.
It was kind of a lot, really.
Particularly because his parents weren’t home.
(They still came home of course, but it wasn’t with the same frequency as it used to be.
The business trips went from once a month, to every other week, to long stretches of away periods. Long enough that Steve spoke to them over the phone more than he did in person, and knew more about business mergers than he ever cared too.
Also his fathers love life, courtesy of his drunk mother.)
Steve didn’t exactly handle it well.
Doesn’t think any of them handled it well, really, even if Nancy blamed him for trying to pretend he was okay. But right as their relationship blew up in Steve’s face, shit started happening again.
Flickering lights and freaky monsters. A group of kids Steve found himself in charge of, who were doing their level best to commit suicide.
(“We’re helping El and Will, idiot!” Mike Wheeler protested in the back of Billy Hargrove’s Camaro when Steve brought up that this was not what being benched meant, and Steve let him have that one given the way the world was spinning.
God that asshole hit like a train.)
Another snapshot, full of fear and fury, and things were over once again. 
Steve was telling Nancy it was okay. She could go with Jonathan, that he could tell it was what she wanted.
It hurt him to do it, but he wasn’t going to be like his own parents.
Realized with a weird amount of clarity, that he wanted to be the very opposite of his parents.
Late in the night, feeling every ache and pain in his body but knowing everyone was safe, Steve finally started the long trek home. 
He didn’t have his car (he hoped that was still at the Byers place) and he didn’t have his keys (no clue where those went but he was praying it wasn’t in the freaky tunnels) and was well into the middle of his walk when his chest started acting weird. Really weird. 
Steve ignored it.
He kept ignoring it, focused on getting back to his bed, and his bed alone.
(Maybe he had been thinking more than that. About how the last time he had truly been happy wasn’t with Nancy, but with Eddie. That he’d give anything to go play in the gingerbread houses again.
Maybe he was even thinking of how warm his Uncle had been, the way he was so gentle when he held Steve’s hand.
How he’d argued against Steve’s parents, when no one else ever did.
It was probably just the head injury.)
Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on who you asked later--the weird feeling didn't stop.
It grew and grew, until it felt like something was breaking out of him.
Like a cough you’d long suppressed that crawled forcefully up and out of your throat, it both hurt and felt amazing, a pang echoing out through his very core--
Then suddenly there was snow on the trees and Steve was stumbling into a teenager with fluffy hair.
“Sorry.” He muttered, right before he went down on his knees.
“What the hell---” Fluffy haired guy said, spinning around and looking at Steve like he was a ghost. “Oh shit, are you okay!?”
“I’m fine.” Steve lied, even as he gave in and laid down.
Man, this snow was nice.
Comfy and soft, and cold on his face.
There was a string of curses coming from above him, and Steve made the effort to twist his head so he could watch fluffy hair kneel frantically next to him.
“ What happened!? How did you get here!?”
“S’long story man.” Steve slurred, feeling bad and looking worse. His head fucking hurt.
“Don’t suppose there’s a guy named Eddie around? He has uh,” Steve fumbled, hands trying to point to his ears. “Pointed. You know.”
He gestured to his own ear again.
(Figured he might as well ask, given all the snow.)
The Fluffy Hair pulled said hair back at that, revealing his very own pointy ear. “Dude you’re in the North Pole, all us elves have pointy ears.”
The North Pole.
The words Steve had only ever dared to think, and never said out loud.
“Cool.” He said instead, not really feeling like he was inside his own body.
“Just--stay there, okay? My name's Gareth I’m gonna go get someone.” Gareth the elf (an elf, wasn’t that a trip. Did that mean Eddie was also an elf?) said, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, before he darted off, out of Steve’s sight.
“Can you get Eddie?” The question came out in a whine, the hurt in Steve’s chest overtaken by the pain in his head.
He didn’t get an answer.
Which was okay, he thought.
He didn’t really need one.
He had the snow, and the woods that weren’t straight out of a fucking nightmare, and, he could just sleep right here…
“Steve!”
He blinked, and found he must have passed out.
“There you are. Stay with me.” A blurry face was saying. A couple more blinks brought it into focus, and Steve knew this person, even if he couldn't put a name to a face.
The hair was longer, and there were more rings on his fingers, ones Steve could both see and feel as a hand ran along the back of his head.
Worried doe eyes met Steve's own, and just through the curtain of curls, he caught the outline of a pointed ear.
“Ed--ie?” He croaked, unsure.
“Yeah Stevie, it's me. You're okay, we brought you back to my place. Gareth is getting help.”
He was trying to sound reassuring but he mostly just sounded worried.
Not that Steve cared, because he finally figured out why older Eddie was familiar.
“Oh.” He managed, the words feeling like he had to push out. “It was you. By the--pool.”
“What?”
It felt like eons ago. The weird guy, asking after him. Back when Steve had been doing anything he could to fill the void his magic had left behind, and turned into a raging shithead as a result.
“M sorry.” Steve slurred, voice cracking in its honesty. “I was--asshole. M'sorry.”
The look Eddie gave him was wild. Like he couldn’t believe Steve was here, and definitely couldn’t believe Steve was apologizing.
Which was fair. Until last year Steve wouldn’t have ever apologized, to anyone, ever. 
“Yeah you were, but we can talk about it later. Right now I just need you to stay awake.” Eddie said instead. It was gentle, a lot more gentle than Steve felt he deserved.
It made him want to explain, more than anything, what had happened.
“I was tryin to fix…the hole. Inside.” Steve needed Eddie to understand. Needed it more than breathing, just then.
“I know, big boy.” Eddie soothed, and his hands were back in Steve’s hair.
It felt nice.
“S’not an excuse, promise it's not. I was hurt--hurting, and--I was mean.” Steve continued. It was getting harder to think, the world swimming in and out of focus, but this was important.
Perhaps the most important thing he’d done in a long time, sans saving the kids from the demodogs.
“It’s okay, Stevie. I didn’t get it back then but I understand better now and…”
He might have said something more. Steve thinks he was, but then Eddie was shaking him harshly, and Steve realized he might have tried to pass back out.
“Come on Stevie, sweetheart, you can’t sleep right now. You have to stay awake for me, okay? Steve?”
Steve tried to shake his head and hissed when he found out how much that hurt. Breathed in and out through the pain, before his brain connected back to what he’d been trying to say.
“Not jus’ to you.” He panted. “Wasn’t mean just to you.”
That was important too. That Eddie knew he hadn't been targeted. That Steve was a dick to pretty much anyone he came across.
“I know. I've uh, been watching you, from here."
“Yeah?”
“We have this giant globe. Like a crystal ball, but it’s set deep into the floor so you can only really see half of it. It can also connect to snow globes, and it can let you see places. Watch people.”
Eddie’s voice was soothing, the deep timber of it echoing through Steve’s chest. Belatedly he realized his head was in Eddie’s lap.
That felt nice too.
“I was real mad at you but the Bossman--uh, your Uncle, he kinda showed me you once or twice and then I started watching you myself. Sorry I know that’s weird--”
“Least you didn’t take pictures.” Steve wheezed and then tried to grin because that was very much supposed to be a joke.
(He definitely had felt more put together when he dropped the kids off in Billy's Camaro--so what the hell was happening? Had the shock worn off? Adrenaline?
Fuck maybe he should have just driven Billy’s stupid car back to his house, instead of leaving it at Max's house.
Asshole deserved to not know where his car was anyway.)
Then suddenly there was a lot of noise and light and fuck did that all make his head hurt. Hands went all over him, people barking orders, and a girl Steve was pretty sure was his age was peering at him.
“Steve?” She asked, but it sounded distant. Echoey and unclear.
“I can’t keep him awake!”
That from Eddie, who sounded much clearer, if not utterly panicked. 
“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” The girl said, tight but professional in a way that typically belonged to someone used to medical emergencies. “You can let him go now.”
“Are you kidding me, Buckley you’re an apprentice medmage-!”
Steve frowned at that, but found something was drifting over him. A weight, like an invisible blanket pressed down gently, and he had a second to recognize that this too, was some kind of magic before sleep tried to take him.
He fought it for a moment as a thought occurred.
One last thing he needed to say.
“You’re still good. Eddie. You’ve always been--”
The magic took him away.
xXx
It smelled like cinnamon.
Cinnamon and sharp hints of peppermint, the kind that tickled at Steve’s nose as he slowly rose back into consciousness.
Steve winced as he sat up, head itching like ants were crawling all over it. Idly he tried to scratch at his forehead and found himself touching a thick bandage, at about the same time his body seemed to catch on that he was awake.
It reminded him that he had had a hell of a night in the form of an onslaught of aches and pains.
His fingers traced the edge of the bandage as he took in the cheerful red walls surrounding him. The room was the exact kind of kitschy his mom hated, little twirls of white here and there making the place look like the inside of a candy cane.
The center piece was the full size window, taller than Steve was and twice as wide. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily outside it, some sticking to the window panes as they floated on by.
It was a little like being knocked out and waking up in the Wonka factory, but given all the shit that he had been through the past twenty four hours, Steve didn’t mind it.
Snow was infinitely preferable to the weird ash that came out of the Upside Down.
As if sensing he was awake, the door opposite the window swung open. A tray came through, positively stacked with a stupid amount of pancakes and oozing with maple syrup, the type Steve could smell.
“I,” Eddie announced, head just visible above the good, “had a very embarrassing meltdown when they tried to take you away from me. So suck it up Harrington, because you’re stuck with me now.”
Steve stared at him, mildly concerned he was a hallucination.
“I brought you pancakes.” Eddie added, pausing as he approached the bed like he hadn’t actually thought through to this point.
“I see that.” Steve said, just to fill the sudden, awkward silence. “There’s…kinda a lot there, man.”
So much so it was threatening to escape the confines of the tray and drip down onto the carpet.
“You play sports things don’t you?” Eddie defended, making the executive decision to put the tray down on the bed. “Kinda thought you’d need like, a lot, especially if you're healing." 
Steve snorted, but didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept onto his face.
Even if it hurt.
Dragged his gaze from the pile of pancakes now laid before him, to the man fidgeting awkwardly by his bedside.
Realized belatedly, that Eddie hadn’t changed much.
Not since Steve had last seen him, though he never in his life would have thought one of Santa’s elves would wear so much black.
(Frankly Eddie looked just like every other teenage metalhead Steve had ever met, sans the pointed ears. One of which was now pierced and had little metal hoops threaded through it.)
Eddie realized Steve was looking, and bashfully twist a strand of his hair in front of his face.
It was cute.
It made him look cute.
“You might as well sit and help me with this, it’s way too much.” Steve told him.
Which was the truth--Eddie had brought him a shit load of pancakes and Steve wasn’t exactly sure he could chew all that well right now, considering his left cheek was so puffed out it felt like a chipmunks.
Didn’t want to turn down a gift though--or rather, turn down a gift from Eddie.
Who he absolutely still needed to apologize properly too.
“I guess I should start off with a thank you.” Steve began, as Eddie dropped onto the bed. “I think you might have saved my life, though I swear I wasn’t doing that bad off before I got here.”
“Robin said the shock wore off.” Eddie told him. He didn’t wait for Steve to dig in, grabbing a pancake and rolling it up like a sausage before stabbing one end in syrup. “She also said you had a hell of a concussion, two cracked ribs and a literal boatload of scratches,”
Which sounded about right, considering.
“Still though.” Steve frowned, looking at his hands. “I mostly just fought off Billy, the demodogs never got me.”
Something he was incredibly thankful for, given the sheer amount of teeth.
“I think you’re downplaying your injuries here, handsome, you gave Robin a hell of a fright. She cursed in four languages." Eddie talked fast, just like the little boy Steve remembered him as.
It made him grin. 
“Handsome, huh?” Steve teased, and regretted it the second it slipped out of his mouth.
He hadn’t meant to call attention to it. Not just yet anyway. Wanted to work his way up to his apology and then the things he had kind of realized on his walk home (and possibly before that, though he thinks he might have…repressed it.)
Given the way Eddie froze, Steve figures he’s got about two seconds to talk himself out of it, before Eddie rightfully shut him out.
“I like it. The nicknames.” He said, which is also not what he intended to come out of his mouth and God he was really blowing this, wasn’t he?
“Steve,” Eddie started, sounding a little strangled and nope, no, he was going to fix this dammit!
“I’m sorry.” He said honestly. “I know I was an ass when you came to check up on me, and I know I said some terrible things to you. I regret it. I regret it a lot, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
“You weren't wrong.” Eddie cut in, twirling a ring on his finger, eyes firmly on it. “I am gay. I am flamingly gay. And I understand if after today, you don't want me here.”
Which apparently answered the question about whether or not elves gave a shit about such things.
(Or maybe they did, and it was humans who cared, and Eddie was giving him an out for it.
Steve figured he’d ask later.
After he had finished groveling.)
“I want you here.” He said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “I think the real question is why you would want to help me?”
It was the one thing that didn’t add up. Why Eddie had been so nice, when he’d shown up.
Sure it was one thing to be a good citizen or whatever, help out a guy who was passed out on the ground, but Eddie hadn’t just gotten help.
He’d stroked Steve’s hair. He’d kept him awake.
Hell he called Steve sweetheart.
And now he was here again, right by Steve's bedside, checking up on him.
You didn’t do that for the guy who was a downright douchebag too you, even if it had been a few years.
Eddie bit his lip, before he chanced a look back at Steve, up through his bangs. “Because you said I was good Steve. You were the first person who ever said I was good.”
Quieter he added “And because we were friends once.”
“I'd like to still be friends.”
“Even if I'm gay?”
Steve took a deep breath, and let out a truth that he’d maybe been ignoring for almost as long as he’d tried to forget about the hole in his heart.
“Cards on the table Eddie, I’m not sure I’m not gay Or whatever both is." 
He'd heard the word once from Chrissy, but hadn't cared to remember it.
(Regretted that a little bit.) 
He got a mighty frown in response.
“Don’t do that. Don’t--joke, like that.”
“It’s not a joke.” Steve said slowly, feeling the words as he spoke them. “I think this is part of the stuff I always just--ignored. Didn’t want to deal with it, because my--”
Steve couldn’t bring himself to say magic, and so, aborted the sentence entirely. “I couldn’t deal. So everything connected to this place, to the rest of my family, to you, I just pushed aside. Pretended it didn’t exist.”
Pretended that he was normal.
Just like his parents wanted.
Then he’d met Nancy.
Realized what he felt about her, he’d always felt about Eddie. That the way she looked at Jonathan wasn’t the way she looked at him--and even then, in the love he had for her, Steve hadn’t looked at her like that either.
Steve had been attracted to her for her yes--but initially, maybe, because she’d looked a little like someone else.
Admitted to himself that he the reason he could clock Eddie so fast back when he was fourteen, wasn't because he was that good at reading people, but because he recognized what it looked like to get caught checking out a guy.
“But I could never forget about you.” Steve added because well. “I’ve never been able to forget about you.”
He’d already said cards on the table, hadn’t he?
Might as well reveal his whole hand.
“You were the last thing I thought of, when I was trying to get home. I wasn’t thinking about my house, or my parents. I was thinking about you. I’ve never been able to come back here, not after Uncle Nick,” He cut himself off again, frustrated that he couldn’t just fucking it, but made himself take a breath.
Continue.
“--but I could, last night. I could get to you.”
Technically he’d gotten to Gareth, who Steve probably also owed a thank you too, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
Gareth had found Eddie anyway, in the end.
“I absolutely get if you want nothing to do with that, considering I think I’m just now accepting this about myself but. I wanted you to know. You’re important to me, Eddie. You always have been.”
It was weird--Steve should have felt laid bare. Vulnerable now that he’d laid out all these things he’d suppressed, that he thought taken away alongside his magic.
Instead he felt lighter than air.
Like the weight had finally been lifted and he could breathe deep once again.
For a long moment no one said anything and Steve figured this was it, he’d gone too far, when Eddie darted in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.
He pulled away just as fast. Wide eyes searched Steve’s face, as though expecting Steve to change his mind. 
If anything, it just solidified it.
Steve reached out slowly, gently grabbing on of Eddie’s hands. Brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, while maintaining eye contact.
Enjoyed the way Eddie’s face went bright red.
“You’re important to me too.” He managed, voice awed. “You’ve always been important to me. Stevie.”
Finally feeling like he knew where he belonged, Steve grinned back. 
xXx
Bonus
“When I said let him sleep Munson, I didn’t mean with you!” Someone screeched a few hours later, jolting Steve awake.
“He was awake when I came in!” Eddie protested, shoving himself up onto his elbows when the women from yesterday--Robin, Steve thought her name was--stormed in. “We fell asleep together after Robbie, I swear!”
“I don’t believe you.”
���Hi.” Steve said with a little wave, before the two of them could screech some more. “I’m Steve.”
“I know, Dingus.” Robin told him, eyes narrowed in fury. “You’re a member of the Clause family, everyone knows who you are.”
“Oh.” Steve said, though it felt less cool and more weird that someone had finally said it out loud.
That he, Steven Harrington, had an Uncle, and that Uncle was Santa Clause.
‘Dustin is gonna freak.’
“I’m sure Mega-Idiotson here hasn’t told you, but I’m the medmage that saw you last night. Or kinda--see I’m an apprentice medmage, but my teacher was kinda out with the Boss seeing someone a town over and time was tight and we couldn’t exactly wait--”
“Breath, Buckley. In,” Eddie teased, before demonstrating a deep breath on himself, hand sweeping into his chest before he loudly exhaled. “and out.”
“Shut up, Eddie, I’m working up to something here!”
“What is it?” Steve said, feeling like if he didn’t interject Robin would take a while to get to the point.
“I might have accidentally undid whatever was on your magic?” Robin rushed out, so fast Steve nearly didn’t catch it. “Like I can tell that’s the Boss’s magic, and that he did--whatever that was, but I couldn't figure out how to heal you with it there and it was kinda already leaking out so I just--took it off?”
Steve gaped at her.
“You fixed me?” He managed after a moment, hand darting out to squeeze at one of Eddie’s.
“Um. Yes?” Robin cautioned, like she wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she did.
“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Steve laughed, then felt absolutely stupid for not checking in with himself.
Because Robin was right.
The hole was gone--and his magic was back.
How had he not noticed that his magic was back!?
“Eddie, Eddie she’s right--I have it back!”
He turned in bed, dropping Eddie’s hand so he could cup his face and kiss him instead.
“Okay, I don’t need to see this--” Robin complained, but Steve didn’t care.
Could only laugh delighted into Eddie’s mouth, before Eddie deepened the kiss.
(“Guys seriously I am still right here! Can’t you at least wait until I’m gone!?”
“No. Now get out Robin, you’re ruining my moment!”
“It’s okay, Eds. I’ll give you as many moments as you want.”
“Ew, ew, ew-!” )
This whole ass thing on A03 if you'd rather read it there!
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bluebeary-jay · 9 months
Text
Hold me close and hold me fast
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Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!
Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.
Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕
Word count: 3.3K
A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️
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Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.
But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.
“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”
He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.
He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.
“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”
Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.
“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”
“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.
“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”
“Get lost, Tommy.”
Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”
“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”
That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.
“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”
“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”
“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”
“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”
“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”
He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.
Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.
Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.
No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…
He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.
The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.
He did. In theory.
So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.
But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.
Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.
“You’re quiet.”
Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.
“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”
“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”
“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
“Listen here, you little tease…”
A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.
But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.
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An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.
Not that he minded.
There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.
Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.
“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”
There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.
You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.
“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”
“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”
“Joel…”
The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.
“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”
“Joel.”
No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.
“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”
Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.
“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”
“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it… it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”
“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”
“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”
“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”
“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”
“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”
“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”
“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”
“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”
He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.
But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.
“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”
“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”
Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”
“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”
Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.
It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.
“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”
“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”
It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.
You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.
“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.
“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”
You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”
Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.
So, so loving.
Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.
There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.
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sephirthoughts · 4 months
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Vincent’s lingering obsession with Lucrecia is excellent drama, but their story is not a doomed romance.
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This is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Lucrecia deserves nearly as much pity and excusing of her actions as she gets. This is not character-hate post, it's an analysis of a character I think gets short shrift as a Mother-Mary in a bell jar, and deserves better.
Lucrecia is morally grey. Charcoal grey. I love complex, morally grey characters, particularly when they're women, since usually women are relegated to roles that infantilize and objectify them, particularly in video games, which have historically been a very backward, androcentric medium. I strongly dislike brainless victims, subject to the whims of the male characters, without much agency, and Lucrecia was not such a character.
Lucrecia was an adult with agency and brains. She was a grown ass adult. She was a brilliant scientist. She made decisions with her eyes open, and even sacrificed her unborn child to her work. She is a very interesting character. The fact that she didn't idolize motherhood as the end-all of female existence, and that her obsession with her work was stronger than her desire to be a 'good mother' makes her far more interesting than otherwise. The fact that she regretted it later and wanted him back doesn’t magically make her a good person, or change the choices she made. It demonstrates guilt and remorse, which are part of character development. The bottom line is that she committed atrocities in the name of science, then felt guilty about it later, once she realized how devastating the consequences were to her personally. To say she didn’t know what she was doing or Hojo manipulated or controlled her is to infantilize and disrespect her character. She’s not some sacrificial angel who was a victim of circumstances; she was a willing participant in her own downfall.
Lucrecia is a tragic character, but she's not a romantic lead. Except in Vincent's head. After all was said and done, she had one of those too-late changes of heart that make tragedy so emotionally impactful. She had a human reaction to Vincent's death and felt terribly guilty for her role in all of it, as she should. That doesn't mean she loved him, it means she wasn't a monster. She lost her son, and gradually, Hojo's callous inhumanity and her inability to escape the net she wove with her own hands closed in on her. Did she deserve to never hold her baby son and never see him even once? No. But she caused it, with her own actions. That's tragedy. She was miserable, bereft, and riddled with guilt, so she made a last-ditch effort to make something right...by doing more insane science shit that turned Vincent into a monster. Seeing that she'd only made everything worse, she tried to kill herself, but was unable to, and thus ran off to become a crystal statue in a cave (this is a trope that I dislike, but that's the story, so that's what we've got).
Vincent is a bad judge of the circumstances. Vincent persists in seeing her as a lost love, and someone from whom he was unjustly separated by circumstances. The fact that he is so blinded by his feelings for her that he places her on this pedestal and can't blame her for what she did is excellent characterization, and I love it, but it's because he’s wrong. He loved her. She didn’t love him (I think she was in love with his father, but that's just icing on the tragedy cake, at this point). His lingering attachment, not to the real Lucrecia, but to the idealized version of her he has in his mind, is a very sad reality that adds so much delicious pain to his character. In the end, he is unable to blame her, because he loved his image of her (and Hojo is a way easier target for anger, because he's literally the worst), which speaks far more to his personal bias in the situation than to her actual role in it. She’s not moustache-twirlingly evil like Hojo but she’s not Vincent's star cross'd soul mate tragically torn away by cruel fate. Lucrecia was her own person.
In summation. Their story is not a doomed romance, it's a complicated, messy, ugly tangle of thorns, and one of the best written tragedies in a game that literally bleeds tragedy from every orifice. It's got one-sided love, obsession, mad science, betrayal, jealousy, fetal experimentation, murder, corpse reanimation, and a guy who can't die, and is left to deal with the consequences of everyone else's actions by himself forever. No one is innocent and no one comes out unscathed…strike that. Vincent is innocent and Hojo comes out unscathed. But still. Lucrecia is not a holy mother, she's not a brainless victim, and she's not Vincent's lost love. She's a person he loved, and who didn't reciprocate. Most importantly, she's a person. A whole-ass, complex, morally grey, fully developed person, who made terrible choices, then made even worse choices, and in the end, couldn't escape the fate she wove for herself.
And then wound up encased in crystal so she could be a pretty statue forever cause the game devs just couldn't help themselves I guess.
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smusherina · 2 months
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bridges burnt - chapter 3 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.
additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4
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You were leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette in your mouth. Nicotine was the only substance you hadn't been able to cut off entirely. You smoked less now and were trying to quit, but it wasn't quite so easy. You had made a promise to smoke only once a day. This would be your third if you lit up.
"Need a light?" Janis rounded the corner, already inhaling. The scent of the smoke solved your dilemma. Fuck it. She exhaled as she extended her lighter to you. An old zippo. It was gold-ish in colour, engraved with shapes that were wearing away. You were pretty sure if she were to sell it, she'd get several hundred for it.
"Thanks." Maybe this was the universe telling you that it'd be okay. Just today. Just today, you could smoke all the goddamned cigarettes you wanted.
"When'd you and Regina get back together?" Janis leaned against the porch railing across from you. Behind her was a pretty hillside that led down into a thick forest. The sky was grey and not much light penetrated the dense clouds, making the woods look that much grimmer. You'd rather be there than here.
"A while ago." You might've not seen her in years but you knew when she was plotting something. That kiss out in the open like that was a clue, a wordless message she trusted you to get on your own. You were together. You didn't know what she was playing at or why you were going along with it. Probably old habits.
Janis snorted. "Romantic. Mia would kill me if I said we've been together for a while."
"Get off my dick, Janis," You snapped unnecessarily. You didn't want to be on the spot like this. You couldn't give many details and risk contradicting Regina.
(Why couldn't you? Why didn't you say, "Oh, hey, actually we're not together" instead of, once more, following her example like a good dog.)
"Jeez, I was just asking. Trouble in paradise? Sure didn't seem that way." She wiggled her eyebrows at you. You wished you hadn't lit up the cig so you could just walk away.
"We're fine. Why's your Mia not here?" You assumed that was her partner.
"I didn't get a plus one." She shrugged. "Besides, not sure she could've gotten out of work. They're doing a merger, or something."
"She's the breadwinner then and you're what? A tortured artist?"
"What you don't realize, my friend, is that I'm winning here. I have a beautiful wife who makes money like a printer, has a 401k and air-tight insurance, and works nine to five while I get to paint my little paintings all day." Janis took a drag. "And she fucks me good."
You groaned. "Janis, please."
"Meanwhile you act like you're better than me when, in fact, I'm happy and you're miserable." She finished off with a snarky smile.
Once upon a time, you'd fantasized about staying in the garage all day, fixing old cars as a hobby, and greeting Regina when she got home from her Real Adult Job, wearing a sexy pantsuit and carrying a mysterious briefcase.
Not anymore. You wore the suits, you carried the briefcase, and you did not fix old cars as a hobby.
"You should give motivational speeches. Think Northshore would love to have you back." You took a deep drag. Deflecting with sarcasm was cheap but effective.
"You think?" Her smile softens. "Seriously, though, how've you been?"
"It's been... Good." It had been good recently. You knew, though, that Janis was asking about the last ten years and not just your week. If you were to compile a list of all the good and bad things from that long a time period, one would be perhaps a page and the other a several-foot scroll. Respectively.
"Wow. I forgot how close-lipped you are." Janis said. You could tell she was disappointed. You'd never been friends, not really, not ever like her and Damian, but there was an understanding between you.
You let up.
"We got back together after college." You swallowed, trodding on eggshells, being as vague as possible. "I was cleaning up my act, trying to get away from it all. Moved back into town and met Regina coincidentally. Rest is history, I suppose." You eyed the hills. The view turned into misty nothingness before you could tell if it was the ocean there or more land.
"I heard your dad passed," Janis said, blunt but not mean. "Sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, I guess." You rubbed your forehead. It wasn't tactful to tell a near-stranger that you weren't actually all that upset about it. "To be honest, it was a long time coming. He was in bad shape."
He'd gotten ill when you were in college. At first, all the business stuff was being handled by his team but as more and more time passed and he showed no signs of getting better, he started nagging you to do more for the company.
What the fuck you were gonna do? You didn't know shit about business and, besides, were high out of your mind half the time. You didn't want any of it, didn't want his blood money and shady practices. But you were gonna get it.
Now, you could say you had things under control. Somewhat. You sold some locations, passed them off to people better suited, and sure, lost some money in the process but you weren't ambitious like your dad had been.
If it was up to you, you'd keep the one shop you'd always worked at and make an honest, humble living the remainder of your days. Start a project you could work on for the next several years and be content.
"Sorry to hear that." Janis stumped her cigarette on the ground. You did the same, dropping the stub and snuffing it out with your shoe.
"Well." You sighed. "I'm not."
With that, you turned and walked back towards the doors leading into the hall. Janis followed behind you.
People were still mingling around the place, the bride and groom yet to make an entrance. Your table was somewhere in the middle, not one of the important ones but with a clear view of the stage and where the important people were meant to be sitting.
The mother of the bride was eyeing the room like a hawk scanning for prey. Her eyes didn't catch yours but you could tell she was keen on Janis. The all-black ensemble stood out almost as much as Regina's white stole.
Speaking of her. She was sitting and chatting with Shane, seeming cool and casual. Damian was there too, engaged and laughing at the right parts.
You approached deliberately slowly, trying to hear what they were talking about before you sat down.
"-came back to town after college and we hit it off." She turned her head slightly and made eye contact with you. "Baby," She greeted you.
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm. "Reg," You sat down and, as casually as you could, draped an arm over the back of her chair.
"I was just telling Shane how we met." Her sharp eyes met yours. "What'd you tell Janis?"
You needed to get your stories straight. Act natural. It was sheer luck you'd both set the same timeline.
"I was just telling her how we met up after college. If I remember correctly, wasn't it, uh, at uh..." You fumbled. "The grocery store?"
"Yes, mom saw you and I'm sure she didn't let you leave without a date set for when you'd come to dinner." Regina finished for you. Shane was buying it, slowly crawling out of his shell. You were quickly realizing that the gay people had all been shoved to one table. Hopefully, that didn't bode anything.
"That's Mrs George for you." You knew it was Ms now but old habits die hard.
Regina smiled at you, hand coming to rest on your knee. You shivered. It scared you how genuine she seemed. She could be awarded an Oscar for this shit.
You watched her, really looked at her. She was still so beautiful. She'd always been pretty beyond belief, gorgeous like a movie star, but the confidence she carried with herself now made it all a stunning, deadly combination.
Even so, you couldn't help feeling melancholy. You hadn't seen any of it, certainly were not the reason for it, and chances were this little scheme she was cooking up was at your expense. She had every right to seek vengeance against you.
You wondered if it was worth it to try and enjoy it. Would it hurt to dream a little? You could use a break from practicality.
You closed your eyes for a moment.
"Baby?" Your eyes fluttered open as her hand came to caress your cheek. You leaned into the touch.
"Yeah?" You asked and tilted forward, closer to her. Regina mirrored you, putting a hand on your knee and leaning some of her weight on it as her lips neared yours.
"Just focus on me," She grinned and you resisted the urge to steal a kiss. "Trust me."
"Always." You whispered, reverent in just the same way you used to be. You'd known it for a long time, the irresistible fate you'd sworn yourself to, that you'd go back to her every time.
"Ehem," Someone cleared their throat behind you. You went to look but Regina kept a hold on you. She placed a languid kiss on your lips, sending your mind into orbit, before turning towards the person so rudely invading your bubble.
"Yes?" She almost hissed, smiling in a way that was more like a threat. All teeth and sharp edges.
"The bride and groom are about to enter, so it would be really, really nice if you two could can it for a few moments, 'kay? Thanks!" The maid of honour chirped, voice so high pitched you had to wonder if she was inhaling helium on her off-time.
Regina watched her scurry away, eyes going up and down her retreating back in a manner that surely should've made you jealous. You knew, though, that for one, Regina didn't like girls that wore dresses and, secondly, that she was up to something. She wasn't checking out the maid of honour—she wished—but evaluating her.
"What a bitch, right?" Regina turned to the rest of the table with a sneer on her face.
You bit your cheek to hide a smile as everybody agreed. This was going to be utter shit. Total, absolute chaos with a side of heartbreak and, potentially, a ruined wedding.
You dreaded it. You anticipated it. Both could be true at once.
Notes: Hello all! Been some time! I've been in my summer groove, having a proper vacation. It's been liberating. Hopefully there's some interested readers for this series :) Taglist posted separately! If you want to be added, comment on that post please.
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olderthannetfic · 5 months
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Sorry to ask this. I was going through a blog when I saw a callout post. I checked it out of curiosity. One of the things that was pointed out was : "when they were 31, they had sex with a 18 year old -they are a teenager!- and it's predatory! I (the writer of the callout) am 21 years old and even I don't have sex with 18 year olds because they are very young and it's very predatory!"
So, idk how to feel about that? Especially as someone who has never been in a relationship. I'm 20 years old, soon I'll be 21. Looking at myself at 18 and the future 21, I really didn't change that much? Physically or mentally. Yeah 18 is young but so is 21?? I don't think it's predatory, am I wrong?/serious question
And for the first part, yeah a 31 year old being with a 18 is weird for me, but aren't they both adults? They also said it's because 18 year olds lack experience, which can be true but that's assuming they have never been in a relationship before(with people their own age or similar). So, it can be weird but predatory? Is it?/serious question
I'm sorry if the questions are upsetting &/or weird but I really don't have anyone else to ask- parents are out of question, they literally think you should teach people about sex right before marriage- and I don't trust most online spaces. There's also zero books about such things in my country because "protect the children!!". So now we have an adult(me) who was raised to never ask question about these things and now is confused as hell. Hmm.....
--
It's all hogwash.
On average, I would assume that a 31-year-old having sex with an 18-year-old is a bit of a creep. However, it would depend entirely on the circumstances. Is this 18-year-old a naive high school student? Or are they someone who's been working a job for several years? Maybe the older person is their coworker whom they got to know.
A 21-year-old and an 18-year-old can be weird in the US if they only just met and one is a high school student while the other is a university student. But what if they met in some very different context where they're more in the same stage of life? Sure, I side-eye upperclassmen who start dating freshmen the first week of their freshman year, but what about later on in the year? What if both of these people aren't students at all and are, again, working a job together?
"You're mature for your age" is a line that creepers feed to younger people, but it can also be true. Some people just get along better with older partners.
We shouldn't be too draconian about any specific rule. You can only judge by the real circumstances of a specific set of people.
Predators are defined by their behavior, not ticky-box demographics. There is no absolute that lets you detect them and protect yourself. People wish there were because they would feel safer. That's what this kind of post is about.
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whetstonefires · 8 months
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See I don't necessarily disagree with what seems to be the primary reading that Yue Qingyuan's shifu fucked him over, caring nothing for his needs or preferences and only for whether he was useful. That makes sense, it ties into plenty of the generational and societal themes of the story. It fits.
But iirc we don't actually get enough information to know that's what happened.
And the thing is it would be so in-character and also thematically appropriate if Yue Qingyuan absolutely did not explain his goals or why he was working so hard, because it was private and shameful and he didn't expect any sympathy, and there was a high risk of losing everything if he blabbed.
And also if he engaged with the existing ruleset with which he was presented, i.e. 'can't go off on your own on personal business until you've mastered your sword,' in the most negative and controlling manner possible, as absolute commandments.
He's a different kind of guy but he comes from the same background as Shen Jiu! It fucked him up also!
He is very very very not a guy who trusts the system to make allowances for him--even once he has all the power he 'does what he wants' and 'makes selfish choices' as a conscious transgression; not something he has a right to do, just something he can get away with so he's gonna. (And ofc he spends almost all the latitude he grants himself on sqq.)
And even less is he a guy who opens up easily.
He isn't too proud to ask for help or pity, so much as he just doesn't expect to get any.
So in this interpretation, he understood that rule as a non-negotiable barrier in his path, the target to overcome, and focused all his considerable will and talent on overcoming it through the sphere of action he felt he had control over.
And fucked himself up bad.
Whereupon his teacher, possessing absolutely no context for this dumb shit their star pupil pulled, did the only thing they thought might work to save his life, paying in the process no attention to the raving of someone deep in a psychotic break.
Like, I feel like there should have been a better, kinder medical option, but I don't know for sure that there was, so I can't say with certainty this was the kind of cruelty that derives from not caring enough.
And it really would be kind of elegant and so typical of Yue Qingyuan's fundamental tragedy if the real mistake was 'not confiding in anybody' the whole time.
And he was just so deeply sunk into the understanding that explaining and asking were useless that, even looking back, it never really occurred to him that maybe his mistake wasn't 'fucking it up when trying too hard to solve everything on his own' but 'assuming there was no help to be had, and that he had to do it all on his own.'
Like. What if this really could all have been avoided if he'd just trusted and communicated with the adult in charge of him? But of course, of course his history of trauma (neglect, child abuse, exploitation, being the One Responsible for the younger kids whom he could not keep safe) meant he was absolutely not going to do that.
It was basically impossible. For the person he was, the person the world had made of him. And that's always been the core tragedy the whole novel circles back upon.
People can only ever be themselves, and so very often the elements of self that let them survive until now are that which dooms them, that means they need someone else to intervene if they're ever going to be saved. Because your personal doom is always the thing from which you can't save yourself.
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alwayscorvus · 6 months
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"Slow Burn" - Blade as your boyfriend
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"Slow Burn" - Blade as your boyfriend
Blade x malereader, fluff, soulmate au; Warning! reluctant, cold Blade at first - "slow burn"
Part 2;
Meeting each other:
It's not that Blade didn't believe in soulmates. He did.
What's more, he dreamed of meeting one.
But it lasted only for a little while.
When he still was a little naive boy.
Boy who hoped to find someone that could keep him company when he was lonely. Someone who would take care of him. Someone to whom he could give all his love to and by whom he would feel appreciated.
Those days, however, are gone.
Blade quickly realized that life wasn't as cheerful as they say.
He grew up.
All wounds he had gained made him understand that he could only count on himself. Only he could protect himself.
And he only trusted himself.
Besides, after what he had done... He didn't deserve love.
At least that's what he thought.
So he didn't seek for a soulmate.
But soulmate found him on its own way.
And Blade chose to believe that all this wasn't Elio's plan at all.
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When Blade met you for the first time. His heart stopped for a second.
For a good minute he couldn't take his eyes off you.
Your reaction wasn't any better.
Something hidden deep in Blade took control of him.
That legendary power, destiny...
Everything around him seemed to have disappeared. Sounds from the outside, excited voices of Kafka and Silver.
Background blurred and the only clear thing in his field of view was... you.
However, Blade was quick to regain his senses. He straightened up, put a serious expression and decided to act cold.
He ignored your presence and walked past you with a swift, energetic move.
Seeing this reaction you bluntly understood his message.
And you chose to act the same way. Without forcing your presence.
However, everything changed when it turned out that your company enhanced Blade's skills, in a mutual manner.
Together you were an unstoppable duo.
It was a common thing for soulmates. To become stronger in each other's presence. But Blade felt that only after your first mission.
After first encounter, every separation made both soulmates weaker. Alone, a person couldn't reach they 100% potential.
That's why Blade decided to use you to become better. To be able to kill more.
He would never let you leave.
And, by the way... you were not that bad kind of a warrior yourself.
Don't get him wrong. Blade "DIDN'T NEED" you. But the fact that someone watched his back and let him avoid a few new wounds, wasn't that bad either.
Blade liked to self-improve himself in his free time.
Since he met you he found a new way to do that. He started reading about soulmate's bond.
By this, he learned that touch could strengthened the bond. And the stronger the bond was, the stronger attacks, abilities and talents were.
Perhaps it wasn't an unexpected news. But for Blade, who had never felt a care, never felt a warmth of another person...
It wasn't anything normal.
So Blade began to seek a contact with you. Talking seemed too tiring. And it didn't seem that effective either. Also, Blade didn't want to get to know you. He wasn't interested in what you like and what you don't. It all seemed so trivial and unnecessary for him.
He didn't care what you were like. Althouht not for long.
Blade had no idea how should he get it done. That's why he threw an open book in your direction and pointed a correct line with his finger.
He looked at you with a stiff, unfriendly face, crossing his arms on his chest.
You did what he told you to do. Because Blade couldn't tolerate any objections.
It started with holding his hand.
But Blade felt so awkward with it... Like some stupid tenager.
And it was all because he was an adult now! Not because he felt embarassed... Right?!
So he quickly snatched his hand out of your grasp and stood up rapidly.
He suggested something else. Something in what he didn't have to look at you.
You started laying down together. Blade with his back to you. And you embracing him.
You didn't see this as the best way to get to know each other. You both had definitely skipped a few steps.
But seeing Blade's piercing face earlier, you didn't want to start a quarrel. And you also wanted to seize an opportunity. Maybe that would really let you to get closer to him. After all, you were soulmates. You were destined for each other. You were meant to spend the rest of your lives with each other-
And it's not that in this world soulmates always ended up together. Sometimes they stayed just as a friends. Sometimes they parted ways. They found someone else, despite their inner voice and loved each other very deeply. And sometimes they just didn't meet at all.
Yet you really had no choice. First of all, you began to tie your future with working as Stellaron Hunter. Secondly... Blade really didn't look like someone who would let you go. Not that you really minded that. At least you felt appreciated. And deep inside, you felt that Blade wasn't as bad as he tried to pretend.
At first Blade was stiff.
Very much. As a board.
At first you yourself felt a little uncomfortable too. But later you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. He was adorable and funny at the same time. But it was, after all, his first time.
At some point, after many attempts, you started to get used to it. And Blade stopped being so stiff.
You, however, couldn't stand this silence. So you took the lead and started talking about yourself. After all, you didn't count on getting anything out of Blade.
Blade wished so fricking bad for you to shut up. Your warm breath tickled his ear and caused some weird twisting in his stomach.
However, he couldn't tell you to stop. After all, he didn't want to show you how much he blushed at that time. What an effect you had on him.
At first he tried not to listen to you. And he couldn't even focus on your speech, to be honest.
At some point, however, he began to gather informations about you. Eventually he realized that since he was lying still anyway, he could listen to you and maybe collect some valuable knowledge. But obviously, he didn't let it show.
But after weeks, he himself started to join your conversation. First with a few snarky comments. Then, with full sentences, Blade began to add something about himself.
He started to treasure every thing that he knew about you. What's more. He was proud that he knew so much of you. He loved to rub it in Silver's face.
After a year together you really started to matter to him.
Habits/Facts:
You were always there for him. Both, in little and in big things. You took care of him when he was sick. When he was busy, you brought small things that he needed like book or tissue, or food for example. But you also saved his life more than once. You cared, you helped him. He really meant something to you.
And you never left him. Even when he was cruel to you. When he ordered, shouted for you to leave.
After a few years, Blade got used to your presence. Not only that. He actually fell in love.
Finally he mattered to someone. And it wasn't just anyone. It was you. The most wonderful person he ever met.
He was the one who asked you to become a couple. Or rather, he decided for you two and just let you know. Typically, in his style.
One afternoon, when he had had enough of Kafka's teasting. He finally broke down and said that "you are together". This effectively shut her mouth while you looked at him with your eyes wide open.
As Blade claimed, putting a label on your relationship was also very beneficial. From then on, you were able to live in a shared bedroom. Yours, because it was more cozy according to Blade.
Of course, he didn't dare tell you that.
Besides, Blade often doesn't tell you many things. Especially if it involves his feelings. Although he doesn't look like it, he is extremely shy in these matters.
He also likes to decide by himself. He just tells you what the plan is and immediately gets into action. Without even waiting for your answer.
You got used to it. At least he keeps you updated. So it could be worse.
Well, and when something really bothers you. And you say it in a firm voice, Blade will stop right away.
Currently you are the only one who can cool him down and talk some sense into him. This is especially helpful on a missions.
When you finally told him that you love him and he felt a true sincerity in it, he burst into tears. For the first time since joining Stellaron Hunters. He lost, overwhelmed with emotions.
It took him years to fully trust you. And say it back.
But when he did... oh boy. You'll never forget it. Especially since Blade isn't eager to show too much affection.
His favorite form of relaxation is to lay his head on your exposed chest and listen to your heartbeat as you lie on your bed together. He feels calm and safe then. He has the assurance that you are alive and that you are really here. That someone really cares about him. And that it isn't just an illusion.
This also relates to your mornings: warm rays of the sun caress his bare shoulders. You affectionately brush through his hair. He then purrs quietly with approval.
But only for a moment.
He quickly returns to listening to the sounds of your heart.
Although Blade pretends otherwise he can be really insecure. Especially when it comes to his scars, which he has plenty of due to the battles he took.
He waited a long time before showing you his body. When he finally did, he couldn't look you in the eye. And you, seeing his back, froze. Blade heard you holding your breath. He started to panic and began to regret his decisions. As soon as you saw him trembling, you immediately got up from the bed, ran over to him. You started to kiss every single one, even the smallest wounds.
He won't admit it but he cares deeply about your approval. And every compliment you say sticks in his head.
When he is jealous he won't tell you directly but will easily let you feel it. Blade will avoid you. And he will start walking faster when you try to reach him. When you finally catch up to him, he'll pretend he doesn't hear you and that he has something more important to do.
Tell him that he is the only one that matters to you. And that in your eyes there is no one better than him. He will hesitantly forgive you and let you lock him in a tight hug. But while still keeping a poker face.
You must reassure him that he is important to you and remind him of his worth. He, unfortunately, often forgets about that and it leads him to a horrible conditions.
If u want to make him blush don't think about touching him in public or anything like that. He doesn't care. At least he acts like its not a big deal. You are a couple. You did it plenty of times. Besides, any work partner can grab his companion's arm or hand.
Instead, make some kind gesture with which you show him that you care about him. For example, make him breakfast in bed and his cheeks will immediately cover in a big reddish blush. He won't acknowledge you with even a single word. But will instantly take the tray from you.
Fights... They are a big part of your daily life. Pumped up Blade always runs ahead while you watch his back.
However, Blade doesn't forget about your presence and after each defeated opponent, he searches you with his eyes and makes sure you're okay.
In theory, he could rely on your soulmate's bond. And wait for a "stab" in his heart which would tell him that something is wrong with you. But he couldn't stand by and let himself lose the only important person in his life.
After a long tiring struggle, you are blessed with his horse voice. You aren't sure if you have heard anything more relaxing in your life.
Hearing the meaning of red spider lilies* that so often surrounded him, you decided to replace them with something else. Something he could love.
You've made a habit of bringing him bouquets of red roses. And he developed the habit of drying them. At some point he collected so many that he didn't know what to do with them anymore. Now Blade separates some of them into petals. Which he places in a notebook. Transforms into his favorite teas. Or perfumes, which he uses on himself. Thanks to that, even in your absence, he can feel your presence.
Let's say it's over for today because translating it will be very painful for me anyway...
*Red spider lilies are associated with death, sad memories, last goodbyes, especially to loved ones and for this reason, they aren't given as gifts.
While red roses symbolize a true love🥀
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heiznx · 2 months
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PRINCESS ARRIVAL — III
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∗༝*◦✦ missed texts.
BEFORE READING, this includes mentions of yuu's attachment to mc, brief mention of book 5 and 6 events, and slight yandere things.
|| ◀BACK || NEXT▶ || HEADCANONS ||
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You can remember how you clung to the tiny hope that your team would win despite the incident with Vil and how it left a physical impact on all of you, but mentally for both you and Rook, who appeared to be in a better state than you.
Kalim said before that Neige and the seven dwarves’ music couldn’t get out of his mind, because the song was targeted for children to listen and adults to reminisce on; it had the arrangements of a children’s song in Shaftlands.
The glances you threw at Vil and how you followed him and—you sighed and sunk in your bed, your head splitting from the emotional ride you went through in just one day, but you had to process a lot of things today.
Royal Sword Academy won, Rook cried because he met Neige, and you remembered the way Neige spared him a minute or two of his time before quickly going to you, clinging on your arm as if he was a lost animal—or maybe one or two minutes is enough to talk with someone and you were just overthinking it.
“What’s wrong with Neige?” you can’t help but think.
When they won, you felt your dislike towards him coming back despite the competition being fair—not exactly fair since most of the people voted on their own schools because they want to support it and not because they think the dance or song was good.
Even though you wanted to cry at that loss, you held back because Epel and Kalim started crying themselves and you ended up laughing at them for it despite your own frustration.
Everyone was surprised at how Rook got quiet after meeting Neige, but turns out his tears were gathering in his eyes and he introduced himself as the #0000002 member of Neige’s fanclub; you weren’t exactly surprised as you remembered how he said ‘I wish I was you’ when you nearly got in a rumor of having a date with Neige.
Now about Neige, where do you even start?
It wasn’t obsessive, the way he’s all up on you, at least you think it wasn’t, it was just plain overbearing, especially when he texts you each time he has a break, tells you all the stories of his practice, chats you about meeting up without specifications where and when, and then clinging to you in real life.
Still, you felt like disliking him for something that you could most likely change by communicating with him was not justified, at least you should try to, you thought, perhaps tomorrow, since the cultural fair was two days.
You paused your thoughts when you gazed at the mirror and remembered that you promised the big-eared creature that you will find your friend to show if he can see Mickey in the photo you took of him earlier.
You scooched to the edge of the bed and went to look for Grim, not knowing how your stress levels and mental state will worsen with how you will see your friend, whom you are attached to, protecting a stone and will physically harm you in the process.
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Neige looked at the paper bag by his table and sighed again, prompting the dwarves to pat his back again and trying to comfort him for forgetting to give you the gift he planned on; they were swarmed with reporters, his fame held him back in meeting you.
He sinks on the small table, listening to the words of the dwarves as they rub his back or try to point out the features they saw on you earlier at the cultural fair and some bringing up the trophy they received from the competition.
Not only did he fail to give you the paper bag, he also failed to bring it in the first place; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye because you retreated to Ramshackle dorm so early and the school was about to close. He really didn’t have a choice.
You were not even texting him right now; he always had to be the first to reach out.
Was it hopeless after all? To chase after you, because you always sabotage yourself by thinking if he was simply being nice to a person who helped him from falling back when someone pushed him. Did he accidentally return the favor when you called on him for help and he broke the rules for you?
He didn’t even see the cameras directed at him or people who caught the scene on video and posted it on socials, but he definitely saved it, moreover, he liked it; the only time he hesitated on actually liking it was when you seemed to be troubled over the fact.
When it got taken down permanently by your friend, he had never been so relieved that he had saved it prior, but even without that video, he surely still remembers the incident and the feeling of your hands as he held it and happily asks for your time.*
“There’s still tomorrow…” Shelpie whispers as his head leans on Neige’s shoulder, slowly dozing off and waking up repeatedly.
“We can visit Night Raven College tomorrow,” Dominic says, having forgotten to remind the human about the paper bag as well because of how nervous he felt since it was competition day today. “I’m sure [name] will be happy to receive it.”
“How would you know? You don’t know them like I do.”
Neige looked up and smiled; he had gotten accustomed to his thoughts by now. It’s a reflection of his feelings and innermost self, but he had grown to accept it already as a part of him—because those thoughts were because of concern.
Ironically enough, he himself doesn’t even know how you would react to the gift, but he visions your flustered expression upon receiving it and hoping—hoping that you’d hold his hand and openly express your gratitude.
Though it would be lovely if you were to give him more than he invisions.
“Yes, there’s still tomorrow!” the ever joyful dwarf says, smiling brightly. “We can help you look for her!”
“Or… or you can ask your other friend,” Timmy says.
“Ah, Vi…” the lovestrucked student murmured, his eyes looking wide and innocent as he looked at Timmy as if being enlightened by his suggestion. “I hate him.”
“Vil Schoenheit,” Dominic said in thought. “It would be nice to, especially with how he seemed close with [name]-san. I think he would be able to help you.”
“Help? Help,” his heart felt numb and empty as he smiled while looking at Dominic, because when did that model ever help Neige when it came to you? When the model visited the front of his dressing room, did that model actually go to give him the drink or flaunt the concern you had for him?
“I—ah—I think so too!” Snick chimes in but nearly sneezing in the process of talking so Dominic handed him a handkerchief.
Neige remembered the amount of glances you sent Vil’s way and it was less than the seconds of glances you gave him. The way your obvious concern for the model was there, and it’s suffocating to think that the model seemed to look at you fondly.
It was tolerable, the dwarves’ liking towards you, because they had no ulterior motive unlike the always-ranked-second model; the one you were with when he dozed off after meeting a certain fan who wanted to be looked at straight in the eyes.
“It would be good! I’ll give him a chat… or I can ask [name]-san myself!” the ebony haired student smiled brightly as he sat up properly, reaching for his phone and nearly knocking off the paper bag in the process. "Sending a letter to R might take too long…"
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For hours from when Neige slept with a racing heart to when he woke up happily, expecting a reply after sending it during dinnertime and now he woke up to breakfast, because you usually reply in between; he knows you sleep later than he does.
There was no response from you.
Still, he hurried to dress up in a casual outfit since he didn’t need to wear a uniform because he currently wasn’t representing the school for anything—he was just there for you, and possibly needing the help of anyone he sees first for you.
It took him hours to sit down and perfect his appearance in front of a mirror, waking up Dominic and the other dwarves because of how the contour stick kept falling off due to how much he repeated the lines on his face.
All that time for preparation and leaving without the dwarves to go ‘early’ to meet you alone without them; all of that just to be met with a redhead that firmly told him that you were not feeling well to meet anyone or to be outside at all.
Riddle Rosehearts, familiar—no, Neige knew the name because this was another person that greeted you nicely at that one call, and a person that respected you, but doesn’t this dorm leader seem to be closer to you than he was?
Ace and Deuce were also walking by when they saw from the second floor that Riddle was talking to Neige; it was the spade that panicked and ran down because the dorm leader seemed to be losing his patience with Neige’s persistence.
It was just that Riddle didn’t want to disclose what happened to you. The you who was lamenting over the fact you won’t be able to see your companion for hours or days, and the you who had red-shot eyes and scars on the arm.
“Oh, it’s you!” Neige took his attention off the nearly fuming prefect to look at Deuce. “You were with [name]-san near the Beach!”
The beach that nearly had you get a bruise if it hadn’t for this blue haired student that was shouldering most of the hits from imbeciles that wanted a taste of the blastcycle.
“Sorry, cutting in,” Ace was the one to reply, causing Riddle to feel an ick that it was Ace who replied instead of Deuce, who was being talked to. “Are you looking for the prefect? [name]’s not doing well right now… they need a lot lot of rest, but if you need something to tell them, you can text them instead.”
“I’ve been doing just that, but for some reason…” Neige says, but he stopped before he could say that you stopped replying.
Why did this person recommend texting you as if you were capable of replying? He would never be able to understand it if you replied to everyone but him.
“Ah, you see, [name] is feeling unwell today,” Ace said, causing Riddle to shoot him a look, a warning for him not to reveal more than he knows. “They might be resting, it’d really help if you send them texts so they won’t miss anything you wanna tell them when they wake up.”
“Ah,” his eyes widened slightly. “[name]-san is sick.”
It’s the first assumption Neige has, of course, because what else does he know about your background other than knowing you as who you are right now and not your past? He accepts you anyways.
He thought that Heartslabyul’s dorm leader was quite silly for not starting with that as his mind goes to the thought of being able to see your flushed face and in need of someone to rely on, or to be able to take care of you.
His heart races at the thought of it as he keeps his bright smile on—that dimmed once Deuce said, “Yes, but… they’re not really accepting visitors. It makes them… dizzy, you know…?”
“It’s completely normal to feel nauseous when you’re ill,” Riddle said to save Deuce’s informal wording, and he felt his anger simmer down when Ace was able to tame Neige’s persistence. “If you have something to give the prefect, it’s best to leave it to Pomefiore’s housewarden.”
“Vi?” the ebony student asked as he felt his heart empty out again, keeping a smile though Ace winced involuntarily at the thought that Riddle quite messed up there. “Why Vi?”
“Oh, because Schoenheit…” Deuce started, only to quiet down because he cannot give proper reasons since he doesn’t know the situation well, only having a gist of it through Epel.
“Why? Why? Why him? Again?”
“Pomefiore is attempting to provide [name]-san the best healing they could,” Riddle explained, not truly lying when he said it, though in reality Pomefiore is only offering you skincare for your plump eyes and your scar. “And he is the closest—”
Ace was satisfied with the first structure of Riddle’s words until nearly adding that Vil was the closest to you so Deuce quickly gets ideas from Riddle’s words and cuts in, “—closest to Hunt, who is part of the science club so Schoenheit gets entrance there to make potions for [name]-san!”
Riddle would’ve scolded Deuce for that; Riddle was the one who can barely catch up to what Neige was feeling and was prioritizing getting through Neige’s mind that you cannot see anyone at the moment.
The ginger felt relieved by Deuce’s save that they both placed their palms by their mouths as if to breathe deeply; they can’t believe how they have to save Riddle from more questioning by Neige.
“I see… how thoughtful…” Neige murmurs as he looks downcasted, nearly causing Riddle to wince at how openly he showed it. “I’ll… text Vi…”
“Or… or we can hand it to him for you!” Deuce chimed.
It doesn’t satisfy Neige, but he didn’t feel like seeing Vil and remembering the times he witnessed you with him; he wanted to see you, that’s what he dressed up and came for in the cultural fair.
He clenched on the strap of the bag before he looked up and smiled, handing it to Deuce as he said, “Thank you! I’ll make sure to text [name]-san about it so they will be prepared to receive it!”
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You put the phone down before you glanced at the paper bag, just because you mustered all the energy you had to feel energetic to respond to Neige doesn't mean the hole in your heart was fully healed.
The Shroud brothers had Grim, but even they won't tell you what happened with him even if you were close to the brothers in a way; Idia was closed off and Ortho was apologetic towards you.
You looked up at the group that was looking back at you before you sigh and say, "I feel better."
Kalim is happier to hear that and you smile a little; the entire group of the representatives of Night Raven College during the competition was there.
It took you a few minutes of talking by Rook before you mustered the courage to reply to Neige; he bribed you with money that he says could be for cat food in cans for your companion's return.
"It was a lot," Vil says as he looked back at the amount of fruits piling up on the table and how Jamil was currently in Ramshackle's kitchen and making juice.
"His sincerity is incredibly touching! He truly is kind," Rook says as you lean back on the couch.
You can't believe that Kalim was happy despite donating his money to Ramshackle, but you can't believe that even Jamil donates his own; you assumed he would have problems, but perhaps being Kalim's servant pays well.
There was still stinging in your eyes when you remember that Epel even donated his own and said it's for Grim's return; you can't help it, Grim was the first one to be there when you arrived in an unknown world.
"How many spoons are still in the freezer?" Vil asked after glancing at your puffed eyes that was the result of their kindness and you missing your companion.
"There's still six... seven..." Deuce counted.
— C R A S H !
"That..." you muttered before you looked up immediately.
The sound was nerving, and it came from outside. In that same day, you let your heart control your actions; it was the day you learned about 'Hepta Team' and when prefects had a meeting.
Rook was an enabler more than anything when he chose that he wanted to follow where the robots took certain people, people who overblotted, were taken to. Moreover, you learned more about why the Shroud brothers refused to return your companion.
And the next day, you were did not show up in the cafe to meet Neige.
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THIS IS HEIZNX, each time i type, i would accidentally out * before any actions and after because i’ve been using character ai on my laptop and i got used to typing with asterisks. Its taking too long again im so sorry, even i am thinking ‘omg when am i gna put [insert important scene for next time that i dont wanna disclose rn]??’ mc's texts were 'replied' to but they werent showing when i previewed them while editing. i had to edit the replies so it would be a little understandable, i never had ihpone so i didnt htink that 'messages' (?) would remove them.
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zozo-01 · 5 months
Text
"my daddy gone for the weekend, so saturday baby we can get to freakin'."
It's here! After four-ish months, the smut is done! It took everything from me but I'm super proud of how this turned out! A huge shoutout to @dominimoonbeam for giving my the original idea, and my sincerest gratitude to everyone whom I lamented to, especially @gingerbreadmonsters, @lovelylonerliterature and @cashandprizes for making sure I wasn't making a fool of myself!
CW: University AU, David is a Business Major, Darlin' is a Poli Sci Major, No Angel and Sam AU, Unresolved Sexual Tension, leading to, Resolved Sexual Tension, they are stupid and in love, Top/Bottom Roles, First Time, Loss of Virginity, its david he's the virgin, Oral Sex, Riding, Grinding, david is a praise whore, they are horny young adults, Gender-Neutral Darlin', Jealousy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, David Shaw is Bad at Feelings, so is darlin', author is incapable of not being emotional, Minors Do Not Interact!!!!
click here for the ao3 link!!!
click here for the playlist made by @floofdeloop!!!
--
There wasn't a moment that went by where he didn't think of Darlin' promise. Even if he tried, the piercing on his tongue was a physical reminder that he couldn't get rid of.
Well, he technically could. Didn't mean he wanted to.
It was odd having a piercing at first, especially in such a weird place. He had to stop himself from playing with the piercing and pulling it out. While he would love to have Darlin' in his lap again to re-pierce his tongue, the pain was absolutely not worth it.
The reactions he got once he showed it off, on the other hand, were extremely worth it. No one could believe that goody-two-shoes David would get a piercing. A tongue piercing of all things. Milo and Asher had a ball when they found it, and they lost it when David revealed it was Darlin' who did it for him.
"I know Darlin' is into 'bad boys', but I never thought you would change for them," Asher cackled while lying upside down on his couch. 
David knew that this was a mistake. He should have kept that part a little secret, but no. He falsely assumed that his best friends would have been mature about it. He'd been a fool to put trust in those two. 
Milo, to his credit, didn't fall onto the floor laughing the way Asher did, but even he couldn't stop himself from teasing the larger wolf. "Next thing ya know, he's pullin' up with a damn sleeve like that one guy they brought-" He cut himself off to narrowly miss the pillow David threw. "Hey! Watch where you're throwin' big guy!"
Ignoring Milo, David sat beside Asher on the couch, putting his head in his hands out of frustration. Sure, Darlin' had a specific type of people that they liked, the unsavoury the better according to them. And sure, he couldn't help but compare himself to their past partners. But that didn't mean he didn't want to change himself for them! He had a well-adjusted head on his shoulders, and he knows it's foolish to change yourself for a person.
But if it did make Darlin' like him…
A soft flick to his forehead brought him out of his thoughts. Looking up at his friends, he saw his fellow pack members looking at him with what he could describe as an "are you stupid" look.
"Look we get it," Asher spoke up, moving into his role as voice of reason. "You like them, and I mean this in the best way, you don't look like their type. I know you're smarter than to change your whole self for one person, but seriously. If they don't like you now, they won't like you when you're closer to 'their type.'"
"Besides," Milo added while sitting next to David. "All this is assumin' that they don't like you. Who knows big man, maybe they do."
(Milo tried not to give too much away, for fear of his own life, but come on! Seeing David slumped over like a puppy made him feel bad for the man. It's even worse knowing that Darlin' does like him, but both of them are so emotionally inept that it will take the world ending for them to confess, and even then, one of them will be convinced that the other doesn't really love them. If he has to spend another minute hearing Darlin' lamenting about how David is too good for him, then he'll find a telepath to share their thoughts with each other.)
(And the worst part is that even that might not be enough to break this stalemate.)
David eyed the clock in his living room while vacuuming the floor. They would be here in about an hour, and knowing them, they'd probably arrive even earlier than that. All the more reason for him to finish cleaning the house as soon as humanly possible. Lucky for him, he wasn't exactly human.
He, in his naivety, decided to take some political science courses that semester. It made sense, nothing goes better together than politics and business, and with the way his professors stressed the connections between the two fields, it was only a matter of time before David wanted to learn more. He's already required to learn about corporate-related laws. Why not learn all the other types of laws? 
The answer to that question is that political science was a dreadful field of study, filled with jargon and old men with pessimistic views of the world. David had always been a numbers guy, and now you're telling him that he had to write essays? The absolute sheer horror.
There were some bright sides, though. Not as bright as their smile, let's not get ahead of ourselves. He sighed, mind eternally consumed with their being and he wouldn't have it any other way.
After seeing his struggle to write down a coherent thought without going on a tangent, Darlin' decided to help his poor soul to write his final paper for their public policy class. It was no issue, they insisted, having already finished their essay a week in advance. When they put their mind to it, Darlin' could do anything. It was what he admired most about them.
The doorbell rang, cutting off David's thoughts. He looked over the room one last time and with a satisfied hum, he walked over to the door.
Behind the door stood Darlin', a dazzling smile on their lips and food in their hands. "With Gabe out of town, I had a feeling that you haven't had good food in a hot minute." Walking right in and going straight to the kitchen, they put the styrofoam box on the dining table. 
He closed the door and followed them, mouth-watering and stomach rumbling at the smell of the shawarma platter on the table. They were right in assuming that he hadn't eaten much since his father left for his work trip. Gabe did make a large batch of food so that he didn't rely solely on fast food. Yet even after taking into account his large appetite, David was out of food within a few days. And fast food couldn't dare compete with his father's cooking.
"Yeah, well he should've made more for me." he joked, taking his school bag and sitting on the couch. "Seriously, thank you for helping me out with the essay, you're a god send."
"It's no biggie, Davey," they replied, sitting right beside him and taking out their notes. "Essays like these ain't that hard once you do a couple of them," Darlin' smirked and he already knew that they were preparing to tease him. "I know that's too much thinking for our little business major-"
David didn't give them a chance to continue, tackling them onto the couch. With a pillow in his hands, he smothered their face with enough pressure to keep their mouth closed without suffocating them.
"Alright, you little shit, if you're done making fun of me, how about we get back to this goddamn essay." An eye roll and nod were what he needed to back off, taking the pillow off of their face. But still straddling their hips, he refused to move unless Darlin' asked him to.
There was a moment where they locked eyes. His heart was beating faster as he hoped that maybe they wanted this as much as he did. Maybe he can delude himself into thinking that there was want and lust in Darlin's eyes. Though it was more likely that their eyes were only a reflection of what he desired.
He snapped back to reality when Darlin' cleared their throat. "Can't really help you with your essay from down here, David," they chuckled nervously. He nodded, taking that as his cue to reluctantly get off of them. He grabbed his laptop, opening up his readings for this essay.
Darlin' opened up their essay, and he saw the different coloured highlights on the document. Probably the different parts and ideas he needs to cover for his assignment. "When you do a public policy essay, you need to analyze it based on the goals of the policy, instruments used to enact it and the setting it's used in…"
It was a lot of information to take in, the jargon and language didn't make it any easier to understand what the fuck was being said. Seriously, why do you need ten different terms to describe the same phenomenon? At least the business jargon didn't do that, it only had five different names for the same thing.
Whenever David felt like he couldn't continue, too tired to come up with more ideas to write down, he would take a sneaky look at Darlin'. Eyes lighting up and mouth spilling out a plethora of ideas of how to make the world better, it was clear why they were the right fit for this program. A part of them was determined to help everyone, from the broken to the damn. If they could even save one person, alter their life to make a positive impact, then they would do anything to make it happen.
The problem arose when Darlin' would try to save those who didn't ask for it, or worse, those who would take advantage of it. Bless their bleeding heart, but they were incapable of turning away a lost cause. "I was a lost cause once, so who the fuck am I to turn someone away from my door," they would say to anyone who would raise their concerns. David could recall every single time that Gabe and their parents would have to stop them from being a self-sacrificial martyr, and yet when Darlin' found something or someone to save, there was no stopping them.
And even though he knows that Darlin' is a grown adult who can take care of themselves, that doesn't stop the need to keep them safe. Preferably with him. So if someone who was taking advantage of their kindness turned the corner and left with a broken nose, then he's not saying that he did it. Not always, at least.
After all this introspection about Darlin', his feelings for them and this free speech policy, David put his final thoughts onto his page. Five hours and one thousand, five hundred and fifty-five words later, he was done with this godforsaken essay. Yippee for him, someone should plan him a parade!
Darlin' took a quick look over the essay for any logical and grammatical errors. They gave him the all-clear and he was on his way to hand in the essay. He was so focused on giving in his assignment that he didn't notice Darlin' getting up to grab the shawarma platter.
"Here," they said, sitting next to him and offering the platter to him, "you need all the food you can get." Darlin' didn't wait for a response before placing the food in his lap before turning back to do some more work.
He quietly ate his food, not wanting to break Darlin's concentration on whatever extra assignments they had to do. Their furrowed brows and jutted lip was endearing to him, just wanted to kiss their pout away.
"That reminds me!" They exclaimed, looking back at him, eyes shifting between his mouth and eyes. "How did your piercing heal? I'm thinking nothing went wrong if you haven't called me about anything?" The elephant in the room, or at least for him, was finally being addressed.
"Yeah, it's been great! I really like how it turned out." It was true, never in his life did he think that he'd be the piercing type. He knows that corporate culture was very finicky about what is and isn't appropriate, and he'd never been interested in any kind of body modification. But this piercing was the gateway drug into him exploring the various different ways he can express himself. Maybe he'll get that tattoo sleeve he's been eyeing on the internet? Or a couple of snake bites? (Didn't the last guy have those?)
But as long as Darlin' was next to him, helping him along the journey of self-expression, then bring on any challenge and needles that may come his way!
Scooching a little closer to them and putting a hand over theirs, his eyes softened as his voice became more genuine. "You did an amazing job, Darlin'. Thank you for doing it for me." 
They cleared their throat and looked into their lap. "Ahh, you know, it's no big deal, I'm just glad I can help." It was cute seeing the normally cool and confident Darlin' crumbling at the sound of genuine praise. The small and shy smile was all he needed, the satisfaction that he had the same effect on them that they did on him.
He tensed up when they leaned closer, their hand holding his shoulder as they used it as support. "Can I take a look, David? Just to make sure nothing's at risk of anything." They only moved when he nodded, hand moving from his shoulder to cupping his jaw.
David opened his mouth, all of a sudden conscious of any food that might be stuck in between his teeth or metal piercing. He hoped there was nothing left behind, internally cringing at the gross sight. Luckily for him, they didn't seem to be taken aback by anything in his mouth.
They hummed in approval, letting go of his chin and walked to the kitchen. "It looks good. No infection and little scarring, and you seem to be getting used to it." They grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, handing one to David and uncapping their own.
He took a few sips of his water, swishing it around to get rid of any extra food scraps in his mouth. Even if they didn't say anything, it didn't hurt to make extra sure in case they wanted to kiss him.
As that thought went through his head, his blood went hot. The thought of kissing him reminded him of the promise they made him. That they would let him test out, for lack of confidence to call it what it was, with them. Palms sweaty and knees weak, he debated on whether or not he should remind them.
On one hand, if they dismiss him, this could be the most embarrassing moment of his life. He's always wanted to move to Alaska, they have beautiful weather during this time of year.
Or… he'll get to sleep with Darlin'… even something more.
(At this point, the opportunity cost of each scenario was going through his brain. Trying to find the tradeoff value as well as the line of best fit in order to benefit both himself and Darlin'. If this doesn't make sense, then congratulations on not having the displeasure to take any Introductory to Economics class.)
"Do you remember what I said when I gave you that piercing?" they asked with caution, using the tone they use when they're ready to pull away from a conversation if they don't like his answer. It was frustrating, knowing that they were creating an exit plan without letting him give his answer. But all he could do was reassure them that he wouldn't leave, and he hoped in return, they promise the same.
Calming his beating heart, he replied to Darlin's question. "Yeah, what about it?" He hoped that his even tone didn't give away how desperate he was, borderline ready to throw himself at their feet and beg for their attention.
"Well…" They folded their arms around their back as their voice went deeper. "Do you want to test it out?" He wondered if their lack of shyness or embarrassment was a testament to how much they did not care. His stomach dropped at the thought of them only seeing this as a means of getting off. 
But it's better to have fucked than to never be loved at all, or something like that.
He crossed his arms, hoping that they could guard his fragile heart. "I'm down for it if you are," he stated without the overbearing emotion that had his heart in a vice grip. His stomach dropped into the abyss and the pressure building in his head had him questioning how long he could keep this facade up. 
David had never met someone so willing to throw themselves into any situation the same way that Darlin' does. A certain confidence and apathy guided and protected them going through their life, and he wonders if this was another example of it. If only he could hold himself high above the clouds the way they do.
He stood his ground with stiff muscles while watching Darlin' saunter on over to him. The smell of cigarette smoke and coconut engulfed his senses (was he also smelling mangos?), leaving him no choice but to hyper-focus on them. He watched as they put a hand on his waist, light to the touch and with caution in their eyes. Always waiting for the nod to continue.
"Can I continue, David?" they asked with the care they seldom reserved for themself. It was frustrating to watch them wear their heart down till there was no love left for them.
He nodded his head, breathing heavily and mentally begging them to do more, but they stood still. A nod was simply not a good enough answer for Darlin'. 
They tilted his head with their hand, looking straight into his eyes. "Words, Davey. I ain't moving till you say the magic word," they purred. It was all the encouragement he needed to let out a breathless 'yes' for their hand to pull him closer by his neck into a kiss.
It was painfully soft, not due to lack of passion, but because Darlin' was still treating him like a porcelain doll. He hated it, absolutely despised the fact that he wasn't being treated like the other people he'd seen them kiss. He didn't want to be special, he wanted to be treated like everyone else. 
(Scared and anxious is how Darlin' went through life. If an action wasn't thought through entirely, then it wasn't worth taking. They still weren't sure if David wanted to kiss them because he liked them or for other reasons, like wanting the brag about fucking them. Whatever his reason may be, they still wanted to test the waters with him. It was better to be safe than sorry, and with him, they wanted to keep him as safe as possible.)
(He isn't like the other people they kissed. He's so much more and they hope it won't break either of them in the long term.)
He followed their lips as they pulled away from him, desperation filling his body for their kiss, worsened by the sweet scent around him. He was scared that maybe they were coming to their senses and that he'd lose his only chance to kiss them.
Lust and love took control of his body and he pulled Darlin' back into him. He sighed when their lips touched his, smirking at the surprised whine that they let out. Wrapping his arm around their waist and a hand on their back, he was going to make sure they'd never leave him again.
He pushed Darlin’ against the pool table, hands on either side of their body, leaning in until his lips were barely touching theirs. Darlin's eyes grew wide as he closed in on them, stopping only when they were a breath apart. Their bravado slowly fell apart, breath quickening with each passing moment. As fun as their teasing was, David couldn't help but enjoy how he'd managed to turn the tables, even if only for a brief moment. 
Darlin' snapped out of their daze, hands beginning to wander once they regained their bearings. They started at his hips, moving up his sides before pressing warm palms against even warmer skin. They paid close attention to what made his breath hitch, their eyes seeming to commit everything to memory. He hoped it wasn't in vain. 
Adjusting their hands, they used their thumbs to press against his nipples experimentally, enjoying the groan their touch pulled from deep in his throat. He pressed them harder into the table as a breathless laugh escaped them. 
"How about a nipple piercing the next time? Play your cards right and I might be nice and do them both," they said with a smile and a playful gleam in their eyes.
David chuckled, with his eyes darkening. He leaned in, hovering his lips over their ear. “Maybe, but right now I want to test out another piercing.” He licked the shell of their ear, blowing on it to make them shiver. He adored the way their body opened up against him, leaning their head back to expose more of them to his mercy.
He kissed their lips, soft and playful, wanting to get them back for earlier. They gave him a warning growl, giving him a chance to kiss them properly and end this game. David didn't hedge, instead teasing them with another peck that had another growl tearing from their throat. 
His amusement was short-lived when he felt a hand around his neck, squeezing firmly and pulling him in close. His head spun deliciously the longer they deprived him of the ability to breathe.
David leaned back, looking at them with pleading eyes. Being choked was never a kink he thought he would have, but he hopes Darlin’ keeps their hands on his neck for the rest of the night. They tilted his head to the side with the hand on his chin, like they were inspecting something. The air was thick under their suffocating gaze, and David felt the wind knocked out of him. The way their eyes were locked on had him wondering what they were looking for. Maybe they were looking for any sign that the piercing may have infected him.
 He swallowed, a stupid thought running through his head. Maybe they were looking for any sign that anyone else left a mark on him? He had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. Do they really think David would fuck around with other people, especially when he finally had the chance to be marked by him? And even if he did, he would never let them mark his neck.
That honour was reserved for them, and them alone.
With a stern tone, Darlin’ asked David, “Are you going to keep fucking around, or are you going to kiss me properly?” He had no choice but to nod his head, completely enamoured with their voice.
They smirk, their grip on his throat loosening as their fingers slowly trace a path to the back of his neck to settle there instead. Then they pushed, forcing him closer until their lips were pressed against his ear. 
“Good boy, David.” 
The sound went through his ears and shot straight down to his cock.
Huh, for someone who’s as much of a control freak as he is, he’s surprised that he would relinquish control to Darlin’ that quickly. He’s even more surprised that it feels good to not be in control for once in his life.
“Mmmm, my oh my, what sharp teeth you have Mr. Shaw,” they purred, crashing their mouth onto his, running their tongue over his canines and sucking on his piercing. There wasn’t much David could do except groaning, too overwhelmed with the sensations he was feeling. “Whatever would you do with them?” Their alluring eyes and shit-eating grin rekindled the fire within him to get back at them.
This was it. This was David's chance to finally get back at Darlin' for every heated glance and flirty remark they had subjected him to over the years. Memories of every fleeting touch and teasing uptick of perfect lips spurred him on in his goal of returning the favour to them tenfold.
(Part of David also wanted to get back at Darlin’ for making him fall in love with them. For raising his hopes whenever they gave him their adoration and genuine smiles only to take someone else to their bed. It was stupid and selfish and childish but he didn’t care. He wanted them and this was the closest way to have them.) 
(If only he knew that they loved him as much as he did them. If only they would bare their hearts to each other, being honest to themselves and their desires for once in their lives.)
Trying to gain back some control and doing what he thought would make them feel good, he grabbed their ass and moved their hips against his. His pants were getting tighter with every moan that left their mouth. It was pure music to his ears and he was determined to draw out more sounds from them. He grabbed their thighs and picked them up, placing them on the pool table. 
He chuckled when Darlin’ let out a surprised yelp and continued to grind into their crotch. “You like my teeth, beautiful? Want to see what I can do with them?” 
He bared his teeth against their skin, making sure they could feel each one of his teeth and that the mark left behind would stay for the rest of their shared lives. Their enthusiastic nods were enough to give him the confidence needed to leave their lips and kiss other areas of their body.
He kissed down from their jaw to their neck, leaving soft kisses and sucking on their skin. Darlin’ shuddered and sighed, burying their fingers in his hair. Relishing the reaction that he was getting from them, he gently bit their neck. It wasn’t enough to bruise, but it was pleasurable if Darlin’s increased volume was anything to go by. Darlin' pulled him closer, moaning and whispering in his ear, “Oh, you can be rougher than that, sugar.” 
There was just one small issue.
He didn’t know how.
For all of his cockiness and initiative that he took tonight, it didn’t change the fact that he was a virgin and this was the most he'd ever fooled around with another person.
It wasn’t like David was actively avoiding sex, he just never found the time to form sexual relationships with someone. Between his classes, extracurriculars, work and looking for internships, losing his virginity had always been put on the back burner. Besides, he never found the right person to lose it with. Any time he’d muster up the courage, the little doubts in his brain would creep into his brain, and make him back down. 
Confidence can only get a man so far, and he realized with their hand in his hair and legs wrapped around his waist that maybe he bit off more than he could chew. 
He didn't realize that they paused when he did. They noticed that his hands had stopped moving and his lips stayed still. Moving both hands from his hair, they cupped his cheek and placed his forehead on theirs.
 “Hey, you still with me?” They asked with a soft tone and looked straight into his eyes. 
There was nothing but care and warmth in them. He wasn’t expecting anything else though. This was Darlin’, warm and caring to the bone and forever willing to share it with others. Even at their own detriment.
They caressed his cheek to try and ground him in reality. “We can stop, you know.” 
Gently, Darlin’ pushed David back, giving him the space he didn’t need to breathe. “I know you still haven't fucked with anyone like this, and I know it can be a lot.” They smiled, but David could sense some disappointment from them. “We can stop at any point you want.”
“But what about you?” he asked, always wanting to make sure that their needs would also be taken care of.
Their soft demeanour morphed back into the cocky, yet not over-confident attitude that he was accustomed to. How Darlin’ could shift between personas so quickly would always be a mystery to him. 
“Don’t worry about me, sugar.” Before David could rebuttal, they placed a finger on his mouth. “I’ll hop in the shower and fuck my fingers,” they said casually, shrugging their shoulders before continuing. “Or I’ll find someone else to fuck. Either or works.”
His blood lit up like a match. 
Through his own heart roaring in his ears, David took a moment to gauge whether they were serious. When they didn't balk under his gaze, he swallowed the growl threatening to rise from within his chest. Had Darlin' said to his face that they wouldn't hesitate to find someone else to finish with? That they would find someone else to bring to bed when he was already there? Did they not realize that those words alone had stoked the whispers of doubt and threatened to confirm all of his fears that he wasn't good enough for them?
He couldn’t stand the mere thought of another’s hands on them, especially when he finally got to touch them like this. David wanted to be the one who Darlin’ ran to whenever they had a hard day. He wants to grant them comfort and sanctuary in a way no one has ever done in their life. The darkest depths of his desire urge him to go beyond his protective Beta (and an almost ignition of his Alpha) instincts and keep them all to himself. 
With him, Darlin’ will be safe. With him, Darlin’ will feel rapture.
He’d been dreaming of this moment for so long, and he won’t give it up for anything, or anyone.
With that, his mouth turned into a snarl. "You're staying right fucking here," he snarled into their ear, the earlier growl escaping before he had a chance to reel it back. There was no way he was going to let them go that easily, insecurities be damned. His fingers dug into strong thighs and warm skin with the strength to bruise, trying to contain the storm of emotions at the idea that their future partner wasn't him.
"You're staying with me."
His words made their eyes go wide and guilty, almost like a fawn, and completely unlike their usual sharp, wolf-like features. Underneath his hands, he could feel Darlin’ tense up and he could hear their heart speed up. David wanted Darlin’ to forget about their concerns and his hesitance, and instead opting to fall completely under this trance he’s created for them.
But with a shake of their head, Darlin’ was able to look through the jealousy and anger to the part of David that was still new to all of this. They ran a hand through his hair, adoration dripping from their fingers, and watched some of the rage leave his body as his face relaxed. It wasn’t enough to let go of all of his complicated feelings, but it was a start.
“I’m serious,” they started again with that infuriatingly soft tone. “There’s no rush, and I don’t want you to force yourself to do something if you’re not a hundred percent ready for it.” 
(Watching David get possessive sent their heart soaring, but they needed to make absolutely sure that this was what he wanted. That they were who he wanted.)
David took a deep breath to clear his mind. He was completely out of his element, and the lack of knowledge and control of what happened next terrified him. But he was with Darlin’, and he trusted Darlin’ with his life and his heart, even if he wasn’t ready to give it to them. 
“I want this- I want you. It’s just…” His voice trailed off with embarrassment, but Darlin’ was able to catch on.
The sound of their laughter reassured him more than any words could. “We all start somewhere, David. Ain’t nothing to be ashamed about.” Their hands massaged his shoulders so that he could let go of some tension. “How about you tell me what you want to do, and I tell you how to do it. Sounds good?”
Part of him wanted to throw that idea into the void. He shouldn’t have to be told how to pleasure them, he should just be able to do it. How else can he prove himself as a worthy mate?
The weaker part of him wanted to give in and listen to every command that they gave him. That side ended up winning.
David took a deep breath, steadying his heart and calming his nerves. As much as it was a hit to his pride, it made logical sense for them to take control. He can’t pleasure them if he doesn’t know what to do. It would be a struggle to give up control to them, but he could do it. If they took the lead, then it would be ok. There was nothing they could do to hurt him. He trusted them. 
There was no one on this plane of existence that he would trust over them right now. Even if it seems like that trust isn’t reciprocated.
“I- I can do that. You can, I don't know, take control…” He cringed at his tone and choice of words. Milo, Ash and Darlin’ were able to string along the smoothest of pickup lines and dirty talk, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t emulate that same energy. Ugh, what an annoyance. 
David tried to save himself from utter embarrassment, trying to come up with something more appropriate. But all of his attempts left Darlin’ giggling, and as precious as their laugh was, this was not the situation he’d want to hear it in. 
They covered their mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry! You’re just being really fucking adorable right now.” They squished his cheeks with both of their hands. “I could eat you alive right now, you’re that cute, sugar.” 
With a scoff and an eye roll from David, Darlin’ knew it was their cue to put their hands back on his shoulders. There was a time for teasing, and there was a time for praise. “Hey, remember. Everyone starts somewhere.”
Everyone did indeed start from somewhere. But did everyone start with the love of their lives sitting on a pool table? Ready to let them guide him during this vulnerable point in his life?
What a lucky man he is.
“So tell me, sugar, what do you want to do?” Their concern melted away, now a hundred percent confident that this is what he wants. Darlin’ leaned back with one arm supporting their weight, taking a good look at him. David puffed his chest out, liking their attention on him. He was proud of the body he worked hard for and being used as eye candy for Darlin’. 
Their other hand played with the button of his jeans, making sure to avoid the bulge that had been there for a while. “Well…”
He rolled his shoulders back and placed an arm around their body, caging them on top of the pool table. He kissed them, adoring the way they melted into him and moaned softly against his lips. He slipped his tongue between their lips, making sure to caress every nook and cranny of their mouth. Once he was temporarily satisfied with his claim on their mouth, he ran his piercing over their teeth, relishing the clink that came from it.
Reluctantly, he parted away from their lips. He was entranced by their face, eyes trailing from their glowing cheeks and swollen lips. Beautiful. They were absolutely beautiful, even if they denied it. He was going to make sure that even if they didn’t care about him or his love, at the very least, he could provide some form of pleasure and love from his end.
“I want to put my piercing to the test.” He slid a hand underneath their shirt, grazing over their chest and adoring the way their body squirmed and stiffened. “Do you remember why I asked about it in the first place?” David placed his mouth on their neck, smirking at them flinching when the cold metal touched their warm skin.
Darlin’ held onto his shoulders to balance themselves. “Y-yeah, I remember.” 
He felt a violent groan vibrate in their chest and he knew that he teased them far too much for their liking. They grabbed onto the strands of his hair and yanked them back. Their doe-like eyes turned back into the wolf-like features that he was more familiar with. David had a feeling that he was about to become prey to be used to their liking. 
With a smirk, Darlin’ shoved his head back and growled in his ear.
“Get on your knees then, sugar. Show me what that mouth can do.”
Dazed by the tone of their voice, David got on his knees. Shaking with pleasure, he looked up at Darlin’s almost condescending aura. Being as tall as he is, he’d never had to look up at anybody. He quite liked this view, especially if it meant Darlin’ looks at him with those piercing eyes, gleaming with dominance and mischief.
Slowly, Darlin’ opened their legs with a lazy smile and beckoned him to come closer. “Come on, handsome. We don’t got all day and you’re the one who wants to put your mouth on me.” At this point, David’s heart was ready to combust all over the floor. How they casually made his heart soar and cock hard was something that needed to be studied.
He crawled over to Darlin’, finally in between their thighs and eyes level with their chest. Warmth and salvation coursed through his blood. He'd always thought that if heaven was a place on Earth, it would be between Darlin's legs. If he choked to death tonight, he would die a happy man.
Letting out a whistle, Darlin’ held his chin up, forcing him to look at them. “My, oh my, David. You look so pretty on your knees.” His cheeks went hot with embarrassment and every fibre of his body begged for him to refute their claims. But before he could look away and hide away in their thighs, their hold on his chin tightened and they let out a disappointed click of their tongue. “No, no, baby. You’re gonna keep those pretty eyes on me, is that clear?”
His head had officially gone blank and he nodded, willing to do anything that they would have asked him in that moment.
“Good boy, David. You’re doing amazing sugar.” They praised him in the sultry tone that made his knees weak. Luckily, he wasn’t standing or else he would have fallen over. 
His hands hover over their body, unsure of where to put them. He desperately wanted to hold their thighs again, or maybe their hips - honestly, he just wanted to touch his darling. But he knew that Darlin’ tends to balk at unexpected touches, even from dear friends. Then again, he’s also seen… videos where the more dominant partner just grabs their partner or partners with no hesitation. Should he do that? Or maybe wait for what they say? Or maybe…
Darlin’s eyebrow rose, queueing him that they noticed the glazed-over look in David’s eyes. They already knew that his mind was wandering in unnecessary places. “Oh David,” they drew out with their teasing voice, “I can’t be losing you already?” The hand in his hair and the other stroking his cheek brought him back to reality. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?”
He mustered up some of that fake confidence, hoping that it would translate into actual conviction once he put his mouth on them. There was no point in hiding what he desired, and right now, he craved to taste them and watch them fall apart under his tongue. Besides, he knew that no matter what, Darlin’ would never let him down. They have proven that fact time and time again, and he can trust them when he’s vulnerable and under their spell.
(Though not at his most vulnerable. He still has reservations about confessing to them, but those were more of his faults and none of his. Dare he say that they were perfect, from their perfect smile to their pristine white fur coat, and he was the unruly beast whose torture was to have everything he wanted just out of his reach. That won’t stop him. He’ll find the courage to hand them his bleeding heart, just not right now.)
(Hell was the other people who made Darlin’ smile, and he's going to rectify that fact sooner rather than later, but still later.)
“Where do you want my hands on you?” He softly ran his hands over their thighs. “You’re in control here.” Not that they needed reminding, given their eye roll.
They grabbed his hands, holding them in front of their face. Darlin’ ran a finger over every line on his palm, the gentle touch being enough to make him shiver. “Hmm, what to do with your hands?” Darlin’ pondered as they placed a kiss on each knuckle. If he wasn’t dying from how tempting they were, he’d be dying because of how adorable they were. 
Finally done with their pondering, though David has a feeling that they knew what they wanted him to do from the beginning, they put his hands on the buttons of their jeans. 
“Take them off, sugar.”
His mind raced in different directions, all of them leading to seeing the wolf in front of him in different directions. He knew this was going to happen, you can’t have sex with all your clothes on. But to actually see this - see them - is a whole other thing. And while the wolf in front of him would be more beautiful than whatever pitiful image his mind conjured up, he doesn’t think his heart will be able to survive to truly admire their beauty.
Deft hands unbuttoned their jeans, heeding the warning Darlin’ gave about ripping their clothes. If the image of their bare body wasn’t enough to drive him mad, his senses were overloaded with the scent of their arousal. He’d had whiffs of the intoxicating scent, after finding them in compromisable positions. This was different though. It was concentrated, it was overbearing in the best way, and it was all for him. Only him.
He wouldn't admit the possessive spark from deep in his heart that was born. 
After resisting the desire to rip their jeans off and carefully unbuttoning them, David held their hips, waiting for Darlin’ to give their next set of instructions. 
“Very good, David,” they moaned, giving his hair a good ruffle. They gestured to him to scooch back a little bit and jumped off the pool table. After stretching their back from sitting for so long, they put their hands on top of his. “It’s getting a little hot in here, don’t you think, sugar?” Without waiting for a response, Darlin’ guided David’s hands to take off their jeans.
To say that this was a dream come true would be an understatement. 
He could see the end of scars on their thighs that started from their hips, the birthmark and blemishes, and the bruises that he left behind. David makes a note to press harder for next time, just so he could leave darker marks on them. This being Darlin’, they make everything more difficult than it has to be, so of course they were pulling their pants and underwear down at a glacial pace. But he dare not defy the speed they set, both to not make them uncomfortable, or have them disappointed in him.
Finally, finally, Darlin’s jeans came off and they stepped out of them. There was no coherent thought in his head due to the sight and scent of them, except for them to allow him to put his mouth on them. He deserved it because he’s been waiting for so long. They deserved it because they deserve all the pleasure in this world.
And he was going to make sure he’d be the only person who could bring them that level of joy.
Hopping back onto the pool table, Darlin’ took off the rest of their clothes that they had on, leaving them naked in front of David.
Were they trying to kill him? It was already too much for him to see them without their pants on, but now they were taking off everything? Leaving nothing to his sorry imagination?
Vile, terrible, and wickedly cruel - the despicable, conniving wolf he fell in love with. He must be the luckiest man alive.
He eyed their body, taking in every detail for him to conjure up whenever he was alone. He couldn’t think of anything to say about them except for the fact that they were beautiful. That they were an angel sent from above as his salvation. Or maybe the devil who’d damn him to hell. In either case, he was ready to follow them wherever they may want to go. Including all the way to Vancouver for some fucking coffee.
(Darlin’s insecurities run rampant, that much isn’t a surprise. They never understood why anyone found them attractive, yet they always rolled with it. They were also known to throw caution to the wind and do some impulsive things. But even they were taken aback when they took off their own shirt. They were sure that David would have got up and left without saying another word.)
(They weren’t lying when they said David looks pretty on his knees. But the way he looked up at them almost reverently, like he was on his knees praying at a church, was doing too much to their fragile heart. Then again, it was David. And he wouldn’t do anything to hurt them.)
“Get back over here, sugar. There’ll be more time for you to touch this body later on,” they laughed and pulled his head closer. He was only a hair's breadth away from where they needed him the most. Scent makes up most of your taste, so he already knows that they will taste divine. Bodies entwined and his hands itching, he’s damn near dying to get his mouth on them. 
Darlin’ held his chin and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Can you open your mouth for me real quick? I just need to do something real quick, ok?” He had no idea what they were about to do. Was there a secret step that needed to be done that they didn’t show in the sex scenes he endured over the years? He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, so he opened his mouth, knowing they had everything under control.
He was certainly not expecting them to spit on his tongue.
David whimpered when their spit hit his tongue, which was drier than usual. Probably because their mouth is unnaturally warm and addicting. This wasn’t an unwelcome feeling though, and he’d love to see them spit on his cock later on. If he’s lucky tonight won’t be a one-time thing.
Manically grinning while watching their spit run down his tongue, they used their tongue to spread their spit on his piercing. He moaned, and when he tried to pull his head back because it was getting too much, Darlin’ gripped his chin tighter and pulled him in closer, practically shoving their tongue to the back of his throat.
They pulled back and hummed in appreciation at the sight in front of them. Satisfied by the blissed-out look in David’s eyes and the spit surrounding the piercing, Darlin’ smiled and blew gently on the metal. He felt a shiver down his spine and blood rushing to his cock, the slight cold being something he wasn’t used to but definitely wasn’t not welcoming. “Alrighty then,” they sighed and leaned back, still adoring the dazed expression on his face. “It feels better when the piercing’s cold.”
At this point, David wasn’t even sure he was paying much attention anymore. All he could think about was how he was burning to taste them, to drink down every drop of pleasure he could squeeze out of them, to drag them over that edge as many times as they demanded until they were spent and sated. But despite aching to bury his face in their thighs, he waited for their command. He’s done so good so far, he’s not going to disappoint them yet.
“I didn’t think you had it in you to be this patient, David,” they cooed while placing their thumb on his bottom lip. “Thought you would have gone feral by now and done whatever you wanted.” Oh, he was so close to his breaking point, but his resolve was strong for now. 
“Does my good boy finally want to put that pretty mouth to good use?”
David’s head perked up at the question, his eyes widening and mouth-watering. Nodding his head with a renewed vigour, he exclaimed, “Yes please!” His desperation was obvious to both him and Darlin’, and while he would never want to show too much emotion around them, wanting to keep his aloof Beta persona, he couldn’t give a damn right now. 
He was finally going to taste them, and it was going to be worth it.
Darlin’ giggled at his reaction. They knew he was desperate, but they didn’t think he was over the edge of composure. He bets that it was amusing to see their cold Beta be so open about his feelings. “You asked for it, pretty boy.” They took his hands and placed them on his thighs. “Can you put them on your shoulders? Pretty please.” Their voice was dripping with faux innocence but he saw right past it.
He picked up their legs and threw them over his shoulders, grinning at the moan Darlin’ let out. He may have done it a little more aggressively than necessary to make up for all the teasing, but that wasn’t the point, now was it? He felt the strong muscles cushioning his ears and heels digging into his back. His heavy breaths against them made them shake in his hold. He could see how they were dripping for him. It was nice to know that he had the same effect on them as they did on him.
Looking up from between his legs, he silently asked permission to use his mouth. With Darlin’s nod giving him the green light, he prodded at them with his tongue, trying to figure out what felt good for them. They shivered, the cold piercing doing exactly what they said it would, giving them an additional sensation to derive pleasure from.
He was right. They tasted divine and he was rapidly becoming addicted. David was fully prepared to give up his worldly duties in favour of becoming Darlin’s permanent seat. The warmth that radiated from their body had lit a flame in him that wasn’t going away. Not until he could see them fall apart around his mouth.
“F-fuck David,” they said through a string of moans. He could feel their thighs squeezing his head and hand tugging his hair, pulling his head closer, which meant he must be doing something right. He became emboldened to bury himself deeper, with his hands spreading them apart and pulling them closer. 
He noticed that every time he growled and moaned against them, Darlin’ would moan louder and at a higher pitch. The facade they created earlier was falling apart, and David was honoured that they would drop it around them. 
Through their moans and tensing body, they grabbed David’s hands from their legs and placed them on their chest. He looked up at them with confusion, until Darlin’ spoke up with a breathy voice. 
“Touch me, David. Don’t let your mouth do all the work.” He nodded, continuing to devour them with his tongue while also squeezing his chest. “Oh- shit, that’s it, sugar!” They were grinding themselves against his mouth and he was obsessed. He continued to grope their chest, pinching their nipples between his fingers to draw out every moan he could.
David could feel that they were getting closer. He couldn’t move his tongue more freely in them, and he almost thought that they were in pain. But the wanton moans and pleas they were letting out had clued him in that they were having as much fun as he was. If he wasn’t careful, he’d climax on his own and untouched just at the sight of their release.
With a growl, Darlin’ ripped a hand from his chest and guided him to stroke them. “Keep moving- shit- just like that,” they groaned, pushing his hands and face closer to them. He choked and moaned into them, deeply consumed into their entire being.
It was when Darlin’ let out a high-pitched moan and convulsed forward that he knew that he finally tipped them over the edge. Holding their hips to stop them from falling, he swallowed every bit of them that he could. Darlin’ leaned back, heaving like they were done with a marathon. David reluctantly pulled away, but the sight of them breathless and eyes blown out with lust was much worth it. He could always get on his knees again.
He slowly stood up with Darlin’s legs wrapped around his waist and his clothed chest against their bare one. David could see their doe-like eyes, elated over the fact that it was all because of him. He brought them that joy. He made them feel like they were walking amongst the stars. And he wishes that he could get on his knees again.
Making sure they calmed down enough to look him in the eyes, David wiped their slick off his mouth, licking the back of his hand to not waste a single drop. Darlin’s eyes never left him, and he heard their heartbeat speed up.
“That… that was hot.” 
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say?” He questioned, without betraying the fear in his heart that he wasn’t up to their expectations.
Darlin’ rolled their eyes and in between their breathing, they huffed out, “Excuse me, sir. Let- let me catch my breath.” They closed their eyes and took a deep breath, looking the most serene they have looked in all of their time together. David memorized everything about them right now, afraid that he’ll never see this view again. 
(Darlin’, in their incoherent thoughts, was still able to deduce that giving David that tongue piercing was the best idea they could have come up with.)
They ruffled with his hair, giggling at the deadpan look David gave them. “You were amazing, sugar. Are you sure this was your first time?”
“We both know the answer to that,” he joked and leaned in for another kiss. But before his lips could touch his, he paused. Was this ok? He kissed them earlier, but that was before he made them come. Maybe now that they’ve gotten what they needed, they don’t want anything to do with him.
In his pondering, Darlin’ closed their eyes and the gap between them. He melted against their lips, placing a hand on their back to keep his steady. 
This time, the kiss was sweet. It didn’t have the urgency of lust from earlier. It was calm, like it was alright for him to get lost in them because they would help him through the fog. David didn’t know if that was his love-sick mind thinking that, or maybe that it might be the actual truth. 
Pulling away with a smile and laughing when David trailed after them, Darlin’ hopped off the pool table. Instead of picking up their clothes to put them back on, they pushed him against the table. “So handsome, is it your turn?”
David felt the heat rush down to his cock. There wasn’t a doubt in his brain that he wanted Darlin’, especially with them naked and smirking in front of him. He craved to make his fantasies into reality, wanting to inflict them with all the want and lust that he’d caused them over the years.
Maybe he could bend them over the pool table?
Push them against the wall.
Or maybe he'd take them to his room and drench their scent into his bed.
There was just one problem…
“If you don’t want to, I get it.” Darlin’s voice broke him from his trance. “I get it if you want to do it with someone you care about, and y’know, have it mean something, and like it’s just me so-”
“This does mean something to me,” he cut their rambling off. David has known that underneath their bravado and confidence, Darlin’ was often insecure about their excess amount of care. It was the thing he hated most about them. Nothing more angering and heart was breaking than watching them cut themselves off or ramble on an unnecessary excuse. He won’t have it, especially if he knows that they have nothing to worry about.
Darlin’ gave a blank stare and as David was preparing to repeat himself, they spoke, albeit without their usual confidence.
But before he could respond, Darlin’ looked down, hesitance and shyness crept into their voice. “You actually mean that?” Their question was laced with quiet want, or at least he hoped it was a desire for him. He prayed that they had been suppressing their feelings for him.
Lucky for them, he had that same longing, for this to mean more than what they thought the other wanted.
He held their jaw, tilting their head up to look into their pretty eyes. The lust from earlier turned into a softer love. Instead of being blown out with pleasure, the sharp angles of their face softened, their usual yet rare doe aura returning. As much as David wanted to deny the fact that Darlin’ could actually be in love with him, it was getting harder to deny when he could see his own desire reflected in their face. 
Unfortunately for them and everyone around them, Darlin’ and David adored the idea of plausible deniability. It was easier to assume that something isn’t true unless it’s being thrown into their faces. Although, they use this concept for different reasons.
For David, it was an annoyance for people to speak to him in riddles and code. He’d rather everyone just be straightforward with what they’re trying to say.
For Darlin’ it was harder for the cops to tie you to a crime if you’re seen smiling at the security cameras, or looking away from your best friend at the right time.
David leaned in, pressing his lips onto their forehead. They deserve a proper confession, and he wanted to give it to them. For now, this would have to be enough for both of them. It was more than they could ever crave. He pulled back, looking at Darlin’s eyes fluttering closed and they edged closer to him. It was a softer kiss than either of them expected from the other, but it was needed all the same. 
Darlin’ was used to throwing themselves full force into everything, always bracing for impact. David needed to prove to them and to himself that he would be there to cushion them. Because if he doesn’t, then who else will?
(His wolf howled selfishly at the thought of him being the only one taking care of them.)
Darlin’ wrapped their arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Breaking the kiss, they chuckled when David let out a little whine, following their lips to keep kissing them. 
“Well, if you’re game for it, so am I.” Whispering in his ear, they asked him, “Where do you want to do it, sugar?”
His mind and blood raced downwards, thinking about the many different fantasies that Darlin’ would make come true at this moment. Looking around the room, his eyes landed on the pool table behind them, and a bold idea entered his mind.
“I want you to ride me on top of the pool table.”
Silence filled the air and David thought that maybe he had gone too far. Fuck- fuck! Did he push it for his first time? Was Darlin’ uncomfortable with the idea, but was convincing themselves to go through with it so his first time would be perfect? Did they not know any first time with them would be perfect?
“I didn’t think you had it in you to ask that, baby Alpha?” They crooned, pushing his back against the pool table. Darlin’ stared into his eyes and held his shirt, only taking it off when David gave them the ok. Shirt on the ground, they stared at his torso, running their hands over his torso, resting them on his chest. 
“Holy fucking hell, Shaw.” David could see Darlin’s breath quicken and their eyes went wide, and he could hear their heartbeat pick up a little bit. He puffed his chest in pride seeing the trance Darlin’ was under. Thankfully not the normal trances they were used to.
Pouting like a child, their lips traced his collarbone, causing David’s knees to go weak. His hands went down to Darlin’s waist, debating on whether or not he should pull them closer. He didn’t have to make that choice, with them taking the initiative to push their bare body into his. “You’ve been hiding one hell of a body, Davey,” they smiled, kissing his neck and torso. 
 “Well you’re one- shit, to talk,” he choked out, squirming in his place. He pulled their head back, noting how Darlin’s voice went higher. Instead of looking him in his eyes, their gaze was fixed on the button on his pants. There was something in Darlin’ that was holding them back from ripping his jeans, he could see it in the way their nails dug into his thighs, a spark of pleasure and pain going through his body.
Not wanting to waste another minute, he took a deep breath and unbuttoned his own pants. If Darlin’ was waiting for him to be ready, he’ll show that he’s been waiting for this moment for as long as he’s known them.
Their hands let go of his thighs, grabbing onto the waistband of his pants and underwear to pull them down. He hissed as the air hit his bare and cold body. He couldn't decide if he should look at Darlin' or not, fearing that he would see disappointment in their eyes. So he kept his gaze low, baring himself in his entirety before the love of his life.
Darlin' didn't say a word, just quietly tracing their hands over his body. It was gentler than anyone would have expected from them. But the average person didn't know how Darlin' would hold themselves back to stop themselves from pouring too much of themselves, causing the other person to be overwhelmed. But David would do anything for the honour of drowning in their love.
"Look…" they pleaded, placing a hand under his chin to tilt his head up. He looked up slowly, his wide eyes meeting their tender expression. With a smile, they caressed his face with their hand. "You're so pretty, you know that right?" He knew that objectively, it's hard to ignore your looks when you have people gawking as if you're a Greek god. But being told and actually believing it were two different things.
With Darlin' though, their hands and body slotted against him like a puzzle piece, he feels pretty. Actually pretty. 
"Speak for yourself," he chuckled, butterflies filling his stomach. "You're beautiful, Darlin'." Because if he is pretty, then they were downright gorgeous. The sun in wolf form, blessed by Angels and saints that have long eluded him. Why ask for a guardian angel when he had Darlin' with him?
They rolled their eyes, a cocky expression on their face. "Sugar, I already know that." Not that it stopped the bashful smile on their face. Confidence surged through his body, he had the same effect on Darlin' as they did on him, and he would use it for the future.
Pushing the hair stuck on their sweaty forehead, he snarked, "all the more reason to call you beautiful, beautiful." His eyes were drawn to their lips as they bit them, desperately to tug on them with his own. So he did exactly that. 
Leaning forward to press his forehead onto theirs, he kissed their lips, holding the back of their head to pull them closer. David tilted his head, slipping his tongue inside of their mouth. He could feel their sharpening teeth and their little gasps and moans. David bit their lip while pulling away, relishing in the sharp breath they took.
A second of silence goes by before David spoke up, snapping Darlin' out of their daze. "Are you going to ride me, or do I need to fuck you myself?" It was false bravado and confidence that was dripping from his voice, but he didn't care. His cock was aching to be inside of them, now. 
They raised an eyebrow with a smile. "Hold on, let me grab something real quick." 
"I have condoms in my pants," he yelled out from behind them. He was sure that they didn't have any infections, knowing that they go to get regular checkups. And he definitely didn't have any, since, well, this was his first time. But a man could never be too safe, and David was ready to take any and all precautions.
"Not a condom, but thank you David!" They came back with a blanket, laying it on top of the pool table. "I don't want you to get road- er, pool-burned?" they mumbled to themselves, wondering if that was the right choice of words. But they shook their head because they thought that this was the wrong time to think about word choices. For David's sake at least.
He moved to place himself in front of the blanket, pulling them alongside him by their waist. "Thank you, beautiful."
"No problem, sugar," they cooed, playing with his hair. They took a condom from his pocket, ripping it open with their teeth. Carefully, they unrolled it over David's cock, going slowly to not overstimulate David.
(Not yet, at least.)
With some of that earlier confidence, David leaned back against the table. "You know, I think you're full of shit, Darlin'." He wondered that if he egged them on enough, they'd finally do something to him, relieving some of the desperation pooling in his stomach.
He froze under their steely gaze and arched eyebrows. "Really, you think so?" Their voice went from warm and caring to cold and detached. It should have made him step back, but he kept going.
He stood taller and leaned over them. "All this time, and you haven't done shit but just talk." He squeezed their ass and pushed them against the pool table. "Maybe I should show you how it's done," he whispered into their ear, kissing and biting their neck.
For a moment, David could have deluded himself into thinking that he would actually be able to take control of this moment.
That was until Darlin' pushed him back with a hand on his throat. "Oh, aren't you precious, little Alpha?" A dark chuckle and a darker look were all it took for David's knees to get weak, ready to get onto the ground and be obedient to Darlin'. 
Before he could agitate them further, Darlin' picked David up by his thighs, turning around and laying him down on top of the blanket. "You were saying, Davey? Something about me just 'talkin' shit'?" They climbed onto the pool table, hovering over David. 
David needed control like he needed his magic to shift. It was weird being under someone, and he had half the mind to push them off him. But it's Darlin'. They won't let anything bad happen to him.
"Well?" Their voice shook them out of their thoughts. "You said you wanted to tell me what to do?" They leaned forward so they were chest to chest, forehead to forehead. "So tell me, sugar?" 
Darlin's glare was enough to make his throat dry, words in Spanish and English leaving his brain. To make it worse, their hand gently played with the head of his cock, finding wicked joy in his struggle. The light pressure made his head spin, but every time he'd raise his hips to grind against their hand, Darlin' would push him back down.
"That's not what I asked you to do, sugar," they mocked with fake pity. A firm squeeze to his head was all David needed to cry out, but it didn't deter the wolf. "I asked you," they paused to kiss his neck, trailing up to whisper in his ear, "what do you want me to do?"
His mind had a million options wishing to spill out between parted lips. He wanted their hand, but he also wanted their mouth with lips stretching around him as they took him down their sinful throat. He wanted them, under him, over him, with their nails digging into his shoulders...
But what he offered them was a growl that melted into a whimper when he realized he'd take anything at all if it meant they didn't stop.
Hips threatened to buck up into their grasp to get even a fraction more of their touch, but they kept true to their word and waited. Another growl left him, of frustration this time. It ended the same as the first did, though words followed as his body burned for more. 
"Please, need you to..." 
A hum left their lips, dancing in the air.
David knew they had to be getting some sick enjoyment from this. He also knew the thought alone had him growing harder against their palm, but their tongue swiping along their lower lip showed it was a welcome discovery. 
Rolling his head back, he groaned and felt like he was about to burst from the sight alone. 
"Just ride me already," he hissed, a choked breath leaving him when they shifted their hand ever so slightly. "Fuck, please ride me. Need it. Need you..." he rambled, relieved when he lifted his head and found himself staring into blown pupils. 
Taking mercy on him, Darlin' let go of their cock, smiling at his flustered state. They leaned back, admiring the mess that they made him. "Now was that so hard, hm?" They sat back onto his cock, grinding against it to make sure he was ready for them. He held onto their hips, both in a plea for them to go faster and to hold himself steady.
Deeming him ready for that sweet release, they moved up onto their knees, holding onto his cock to keep him still. "Are you ready?" they asked gleefully, stroking his cock to make sure he was slick and ready for them. 
He couldn't find the words to say yes though. Not because he was having second thoughts, but because he couldn't believe his situation right now. Darlin', the wolf he's been in love with since they joined the pack, was willing to have sex with him. There'd always been a part of him that was scared to ask them out, fearing they'd only say yes due to his position as Beta and the Alpha's son. But seeing that familiar determined look was all he needed to know that his dreams were coming true.
(Darlin' was also in shock at what was happening as well. As the Alpha's son, surely David had better options than them? They were proud of who they were and where they came from, but there was always a nagging voice in their brain that told them otherwise. Where David had been raised in white picket fences, Darlin' had been raised surrounded by metal cages. It was no secret that from the way they talked (and how they hid it) to the way they dressed, they were both from fundamentally different worlds.)
(But seeing David with needy eyes and a loving gaze made them feel like they belonged. Actually belonged. And that maybe, home wasn't limited to snowy streets and gray skyscrapers. It could also be in the arms of their best friend.)
Somehow, David was able to find his voice again, and all he whispered was yes, over and over again, while nodding his head vigorously.
Darlin' chuckled at his eagerness, slowly lowering themselves onto him. "What my future Alpha wants, is what he gets," they murmured with a breathless sigh, watching his cock disappear inside of them. They took their time to let themselves adjust to his size before they sank to the base with a sharp inhale, arching their back and digging their nails into his heated skin.
Holy fuck. Holy shit. This was actually happening. 
David held his breath as they tightened around him, watching as their eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. That had to be a good thing, right? He hoped it was. Hell, he currently felt like he was on cloud nine and they hadn't even moved yet. How long would he even last?  
Oh God, he couldn't come too quickly. That'd be too embarrassing.
He pinched himself, just to make sure that he wasn't stuck in another wet dream. He wasn't. This was very real. And when he felt Darlin' shift around him, he was finally convinced that this was very, very real.
"Ok, I'mma start moving, but—," they began, taking deep breaths to keep their voice steady, “—if you need this to stop…for me to stop, you need to tell me." 
David rolled his eyes at their warning, lips parting to retort only for his words to die on his tongue when they held his face in their hands. Darlin’ stared into his eyes, making sure he was staring back before continuing. 
"I'm serious, David. You wanna stop? You tell me. Alright?"
He nodded as he swallowed roughly, doing his best to keep his breaths somewhat even. It was hard to focus on anything apart from how well they were taking him and the fact this was only the beginning. His impatience was slowly eating away at him, even more so as he took in the sight of them on top of him like some sort of ethereal god. 
David would be more than happy to get on his knees for them again if they ever asked. 
“I need to hear you, David. You never had an issue mouthing off before…so use those words of yours. Tell me you understand.” 
The urge to bare his teeth was forced down as he cursed under his breath, nodding but adding what they’d been so keen on pulling out of him. 
“Yes, yes, I understand,” he groaned, thighs tensing when Darlin’ shifted ever so slightly. They would be the death of him, he was sure of it, but at least it’d be a hell of a way to go. “I’ll tell you what I need and right now I need you to move. So, please—” 
A shudder left Darlin’ as they offered a smile that had his pulse stuttering before returning to its concerningly quick pace. 
“Good boy.”
David didn't have time to process their praise, too focused on the feeling of them rising and sinking onto his cock without warning. Whether he whimpered or not he'd never admit, their movements lighting a fire in his gut. If this was how he felt when they were taking it slow, he wasn't sure he'd last long with what was no doubt still in store for him. 
Giggling at David's reaction, they couldn't help but offer a mocking coo. "Aw, is my little baby close already?" Their words were followed by a shift of their hips, lifting enough until only the tip of him was inside them. This time, there was no hiding the whine that tore from his throat, a smirk growing from their once gentle smile. "I don't know how long you're going to last, Davey. Let's find out, hm?"
It was the only warning he got before Darlin' started moving at a steady pace, moving in slow yet forceful motions. They put enough strength to make sure he felt everything he could have ever dreamed, but slow enough for it to be agonizing, making him beg for more. It was enough to have him writhing on the pool table, one hand gripping onto the edge and the other on their thighs, holding on for dear life. 
Pushing up with what strength he could garner, he pressed his lips to their own with a soft groan, arms wrapping around their waist and pulling them closer. He needed their body pressed to him: needed to feel their core so his own could melt into it until only one remained. He had spent so long thinking of what it would be like to have them this way. He'd be a fool not to savour it for as long as he could. "
They stopped, surprised by the kiss. After the initial shock faded, their arms moved around his neck, hands playing with his hair, pressed flush into his chest. Any time they tried to pull away, David would growl, either pulling them back or following their lips to capture them again. He wasn't ready to let go of them. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to let go of them again.
Without breaking the kiss, Darlin' started to bounce on his cock, swallowing up any moans from David's mouth. He could barely register the creaking table beneath them, too focused on watching their head roll back, showing off their very kissable neck. God, he wished he had the strength to sit up and bite them. But Darlin's weight on his lap paralyzed him, unable to find the core strength to hold them flush against him. All he could do was grip their hips to hold them steady and keep kissing them. He felt his teeth sharpen, aching to bite them and be bitten by them.
Going off of instincts, he began to thrust up into them, desperately trying to match the pace that they set. "You're so goddamn tight!" He whined while mindlessly fucking them, hands on hips helping them move faster.
"Oh, really Davey?" They asked with a breathless laugh. How Darlin' was able to keep their composure was a mystery to him, especially with the way they tightened even more around him, enough to have him choking out strings of profanities at the sensation. "You close, babyboy?" 
He could feel himself closer to the edge, but couldn't form words to say it, losing his sanity with every second that went by. The pool table started to shift in place, moving back with every movement and he couldn't help but fall further into their spell. He relished in the quiet moans that he was able to get out of them, but he wanted more. He wished that they were louder, and craved to have them screaming his name, but he was so focused on his own pleasure that he failed to realize how close he'd become.
"Darlin'- I'm so close-" He choked out between moans, fingers borderline drawing blood from their hips. He felt the unfamiliar washing over him, and he chased it with great desperation. Mindless and borderline feral at the feeling of Darlin' clenching around him, his hips stuttered, the feeling so overwhelming that he couldn't keep a steady pace. His muscles felt tight and he was choking on his rapture, barely able to breathe or speak or move.
It brought him joy to know that Darlin's composure was slowly slipping away, their growls slowly devolving into broken wails. They have always been the picture of composure, not even letting their anger be shown on their face aside from a quiet, cold, fury. He treasured the privilege of seeing them let go of themselves and just feel. Their strong thighs clamped around his hips to keep them both steady, and their nails scratched his chest. He was ready to wear their marks proudly the next day. 
"I know, David- shit," they moaned, tilting their head back with their eyes shut. Sweaty and incoherent, he's never seen them more beautiful than at this moment. One where either of them can break at a moment's notice. Even now, they matched David's thrusts, focused on making sure he didn't do all the work and focused on a good first time.
Pleasure and desperation mixing together, David snapped, his core reaching out to grab onto theirs. Blood filled with ecstasy and head ringing with the sound of his moans, he didn't feel the magic that surged through him. It was only when Darlin' screamed, head thrown back and back arching beautifully, that he realized something was wrong.
"FUCK!" they yelled out, their body going limp on top of him and falling backwards. He grabbed onto them and placed them onto his chest, giving each other a chance to breathe before moving. He pushed the hair stuck on their forehead, looking into their dazed eyes. He felt himself falling in love with them all over again.
Careful to not overstimulate either of them, Darlin' pushed themselves off David's chest. He whined, liking and wanting them to stay on his chest for as long as the waves would long for the moon. They rolled their eyes, laughed breathlessly and with a hoarse voice, they asked, "was that good?" 
There were no adjectives, verbs, adverbs or descriptors that could describe how that felt, so he supposed 'good' would have to suffice. 
David was never a religious man. Sure, he went to church like the good son he was to make his father happy, and he's not above a little prayer to get through a difficult slump. Despite all of that, he could never understand what it meant to have a religious experience, an event that was so miraculous that the only explanation was that a higher power rewrote the fabric of the universe in order to let it happen.
He was convinced that Darlin' was that higher power. The only one he'd worship from here on out.
Feeling his vocal cords functioning again, his strained voice responded. "Was more than good, beautiful," he said while playing with their hair. 
"Good, I'm glad," they sighed in relief. "I do have a question…" Their voice trailed off with a little bit of uncertainty.
"What is it?" 
"Did you-" they cut themselves with a chuckle. "Did you mean to half-shift in me?"
David's eyes went wide while his mouth spewed out apologies. He knew how painful it can be to have anything inserted into your body, always cringing at those who claim that 6 inches was not enough. But to have one suddenly grow bigger inside of them, even for a split moment, sounded awful. 
Given that he was quite a large wolf, even for his young age, it made sense that all parts of his body grew proportionally.
Placing a hand on his chest to calm him down, Darlin' laughed off his concern. "It's fine, I promise. Hurt for a little bit and don't think I'd be down for that again, but it felt really good." Their voice emphasizing the pleasure over the pain eased his nerves, glad that they did like it, unexpected as it was. "Just give me a heads up next time, ok?" They jest with a smile.
So there will be a next time. Yay for him!
"Of course," he said before leaning closer to whisper in their ear. "I'll make sure to shift before I fuck you instead."
They shivered at David's admission. "Don't threaten me with a good time, Shaw," they rolled their eyes before slowly coming off of his lap to sit beside him. David hissed at the loss of contact, out of overstimulation and the desire to keep them close for even longer.  
Sitting by his side, they both basked in the familiar silence that accompanied them for their shared lives. Darlin' laid his head on his shoulder and David wrapped an arm around their waist. In many ways, things were the same. Yet everything was different now.
"You should go to bed, David." They rest their chin on his shoulder to look at him. "You must be tired as shit right now." Completely ignoring that they looked like they were going to fall asleep at any moment. 
"You're right, I should go to bed." He felt more alive and awake than he ever has, but with the way Darlin' was slumped over, he figured that the best way to get them to bed was to sleep himself. 
He picked Darlin' up bridal style, careful to not strain any of their muscles and ignoring the yelp of surprise he gave them.
"What are you doing?" Curiosity and uncertainty filled their voice, yet they buried their face into his chest, slowly dozing off in the process.
"We're both going to bed." Before he could whine in protest, insisting that they weren't tired and could go home in their state, David kicked open the door to their childhood bedroom and laid them on his bed. Running to the bathroom he grabbed a washcloth to clean himself and Darlin' before they headed to bed.
Their eyes tracked his every move, he wondered if he was doing anything wrong. Maybe the cloth was too rough? Or maybe they didn't want to come to his bed?
"You know, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, since this is you're the virgin- excuse me, ex-virgin," they snarked from the bed.
He flicked their forehead at their comment. "Shut up and let yourself be cared for, you stubborn dick." He grabbed a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants for the both of them, throwing Darlin's set at their face and laughing at their exasperated expression. But it didn't stop them from putting his clothes on.
The sight of Darlin' in his clothes and dozing off in his bed, his scent mixing with his, was enough to make his wolf go feral. He's no stranger to the hardships Darlin' faced in their life, always concerned for when they went after the shady people they called family. Sure, it was clear they cared for them, but if they really loved Darlin', they wouldn't drag them into such dangerous situations.
It wasn't in them to say no to a friend's request though, so David supposed that he may have to be the one to keep them safe.
(Realistically, he knew Darlin' would hate that. The idea of another person making their decisions and dragging David into a danger he had no reason to be involved in would eat them alive. But forgive him, he's a boy - nay, a man - in love trying to keep his future mate alive long enough to call them his mate. You can't really do that with a dead person, despite other's insistence.)
Clothes on, he slipped beside Darlin'. Immediately, they moved back to give him space, much to his chagrin. He pulled them against his chest, a hand behind their neck to keep them close. "You just sent me to heaven and back, and now you won't cuddle with me?" Resting his chin on top of their head, he finished his thought with a laugh. "Rude."
He expected a snarky comment back from them, maybe a joke about how he was an asshole. He didn't expect brutal honesty from them.
"I didn't think you'd want to." Their voice was muffled from being pressed against David's chest, but he could still hear the apprehension in their words. He held them tighter, hopefully conveying to their stubborn brain that he did want them with him.
They fought back against his hold to look him in his eyes. "Most people don't really want to cuddle after fucking," they huffed and it filled David with anger. Who in their right mind would be blessed with the chance to sleep next to them, only to throw it away because they got what they wanted? How many times did Darlin' want to be comforted only to feel used like a toy?
He shook his head of those thoughts. It didn't matter anymore, he'd hold them for as long as they asked for it.
"Well I want you, Darlin'." His arms pushed them back into his heart. Before they could pointlessly argue, he gently scratched their scalp. Just as he thought, their breathing slowed down and head went limp against his pillow. "Now shut up and go to sleep," he chided with love and care.
They couldn't go to sleep without having a final word. 
"Are we," they yawned and rubbed their eyes, "are we… a thing?"
With conviction, he corrected them. "We're more than just a thing, Darlin'. But don't worry about that now." Yawning himself, he laid his head on his pillow and almost knocked out immediately. He was able to hear the last thing they said before succumbing to dreams.
"...love you, David."
'I love you too, Darlin'.'
He's a little concerned by the clothes left behind in his living room. Not because David shouldn't be having sex at his age, but because they couldn't have at least cleaned up after themselves? Really?
Carefully walking around the living room to not wake up the younger wolves, he headed to the kitchen to make some food for the two. Knowing those fools, they haven't eaten anything all day, being too busy with other things to remember to eat. Something small would be enough to get them some energy back.
He passed by the pool table, noticing the blanket on top of it. He feared the worst, not wanting to imagine what had happened there earlier. The scratches were too noticeable and the wobbly leg made it all too true. Great, he'll need to call the carpenter to fix the table. Or build him a new one.
It looked like someone else had the same idea, watching David roll out some dough. Love is stored in the pupusa indeed.
"You remember to replace the pork with beef, right?" His voice spooked his son, amused at him jumping 10 feet in the air. It was a little concerning to see him so unaware of his surroundings, it was because it was out of love. Sue him, he's happy that his son is happy. 
"Yeah- yeah, I did." David kept his head turned away from Gabe, most likely out of embarrassment of being caught. 
Satisfied by his answer, he leaned back to observe his son. David seldom cooked, citing a lack of time and energy to do so. That didn't mean that he didn't know the basic recipes, he just never made them. Not that Gabe ever minded, he was always happy to cook for his son. But of course, he'd pick up the knife for Darlin', especially since they could cook up a mean meal whenever they felt like it.
There was another thing that was off. David's hoodie wasn't his. Sure it fit him perfectly, but last time he checked, he went to high school in Dahlia, their mascot was not the Eagles.
"Who's hoodie is that?" He was curious to see where this went, and whether David knew what he was wearing.
David turned back to his father for the first time, looking at him with a confused stare. 
"It's mine, obviously…" His voice trailed off when he looked down, realizing his mistake. David went to Dahlia Collegiate and Technical Institute, and their mascot was the Dire Wolves. He should remember considering how many jokes were made at the pack's expense.
While Darlin' did graduate from DCTI, that wasn't their first high school. Their old school's mascot did happen to be an eagle… And they did like their clothes on the bigger side…
Gabe laughed, watching realization cross his son's face. When before he had some plausible deniability, now it was outright obvious what they had done. Finally.
He walked to David and patted him on the back. "There's nothing to be ashamed about, and I know how long you've been in love with them." He decided not to reveal Darlin's feelings just in case they hadn't confessed yet. Knowing these two, they've probably gone to bed before telling each other how they feel. 
David's shoulder slumped at his father's words. "I know, I know, but I just," he sighed, defeated by his own emotions. "I just don't want to fuck up with them."
"And you won't," Gabe reassured. "You're a good man who wants to do right by them. As long as you follow your heart, you won't mess anything up."
David groaned at the advice. "That's easier said than done," he pointed out. For David, making rational decisions with his head always trumped going with his heart, but unfortunately, love doesn't follow the rules and logic of rationality.
"You need to understand that when it comes to love, neither of you can control everything. A relationship is give and take, sometimes you're in control, sometimes you're not. It's scary, and I know for both of you this sounds like the worst thing ever. But you owe it to each other to at least try." 
The crockpot alarm goes off. "Are you willing to see Darlin' happy with someone else?"
He could see the alarms go off in David. "No-"
"Then try," he pleaded with David. "You both are good for each other. And you both deserve good things."
Walking past David to the crockpot to see if the beef had been cooked properly, he waited for David to come to his own conclusion. It can be tempting to spell out the answers, especially when it's as obvious as this is. But as a father and as Alpha, he needs to make sure that David can make his own decisions and live with those consequences. 
Gabe won't be around forever, and he needed to learn how to be his own man.
Silently joining him, David goes back to rolling out the dough. The determined look on his face was his answer, and he can't wait to see where it will lead.
He leaned over to whisper in David's ear.
"Can you please clean up after yourselves next time? I don't want to see your dirty clothes all over the living room."
Gabe's laughter at the expense of David's humiliation was loud enough to wake Darlin' from his bed.
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rise-my-angel · 4 months
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those targ stans comparing Rhaenyra's strong boys to Jon are the absolute worst
Like, on one hand, I do see why people defend them. It wasn't their fault they were born to such unfavourable circumstances. Its not easy to grow up being conflicted about who you really are, and as much as Rhaenyra loves them, its clear she does not prioritize them over herself.
But theres more problems then that. The biggest point against them is the incident with Aemond. First of all, I don't condone the actions of Aemond when grown up since he is certainly unhinged, but here he was what? 10? 12? Somewhere around that age, and he felt he needed to claim Vhagar, the biggest dragon, after her riders death because that was the only way he felt he had to prove his worth in this family. For kids who are not sure if they were bastards, the Strong boys have never indicated once that they felt that desperate to prove something for their place in a family. Aemond telling his mother that him losing an eye is alright because he "gained a dragon" is heartbreaking. He thought losing his eye to claim a dragon was the only way to prove himself. When have the Strong boys ever indicated they felt that desperate?
Secondly is the attack itself. Aemond was alone and ganged up on. He was attacked by multiple people at once whom clearly brought items to attack him with, and him calling them bastards should not have illicted that violent of a responce. It is NOT normal to wound someone so bad they lose an eye during a fight between young boys.
Without knowing Myachs face yet, Robert phrased it best when the worst that happened was Joffery got bit in the arm by a wolf the size of a dog. "Damn it, children fight. It's over." But Cersei escalates this by propgating Jofferys lies and publically paints Arya out to be a wild animal. And we all knew then that Joffery was in the wrong in a much less serious situation (unless your Myach).
But here, the wounded child, was the one the other kids attacked themselves, and then allowed their mother to take charge and demand he be tortured. She accuses Aemond of starting a fight they know they instigated, and then allowed their mother to demand torture for a boy saying something that was already a rumour.
We all look at the adults in that situation but the Strong Boys mutilated Aemond and then allowed their mother to lie about what happened and demand torture for something he merely said in anger.
Now part of the issue is that Jace and Luke especially have essentially, no real individual character. Much like Baela and Rhaena's lack of character development, they are mostly a duo who dont stand on their own. Season 2 will change that for Jace obviously, but all we have seen of the boys in the most prominent scenes with them is a willingness to use aggression and allow their mother to violently lie for them to cover up their own wrongdoings.
Other then being bastards, the Strong Boys have literally no comparison to Jon Snow. They were called and raised as highborns. Those boys were literally involved in inheritance debates. They have massive privileges every other highborn does.
Jon grew up a known bastard and that literally dictated his entire life as lesser then the siblings he grew up with. He is nothing like them because he fought for everything he has and it's still nothing compared to what those boys were given for absolutely nothing.
Also, Jon never cut another boys eye out in a fight when they called him a bastard. Literally the first time we see him get that violent is trying to stab Ser Alliser, and that was for insulting his fathers honour after said father was arrested for a treason Jon knows is likely untrue.
Jace hopefully will have better development this season, but as it stands, he and Luke both were the kinds of people who wouldve spat down on the likes of Jon Snow.
And those bad traits come from where else but Rhaenyra herself. I don't support shitting on them because theyre bastards but most people who don't like Team Black get painted as bastardphobic regardless. Its a weak argument to disavow giving by looking at real critiques, and just going "oh youre just supporting treating bastards badly why should i listen to you"
As if people like me literally aren't massive Jon Snow defenders, who support Jon staying a Snow and being proud of who he is rather then him feeling like he needs a truename to be of value.
I mean people get angry just seeing them being called the Strong boys. Like use your eyes, people. They look just fucking like Harwin theres not a single drop of Laenor anywhere near those kids apperances.
I'm not trying to just diss the Strong boys, unlike what some fans will paint any criticisms as. Its all just really messy. You just cannot discuss them without Team Black throwing a tantrum.
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weird-an · 1 year
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"You're having a crisis," Robin tells him when Steve comes to work way too late on Saturday, hair a mess and hoping that his shirt hides all the hickies Billy left... everywhere.
Great. He hoped she wouldn't notice, but she needed one coffee and three minutes to find out.
"What gives you that idea?" Steve tries to feign nonchalance and sorts the tapes that have been given back yesterday.
"Is that a hickey?" Robin tugs at his shirt.
"Robin!" Steve swats her hand away. "That's none of your business."
"I had to man the counter alone for half an hour. Because you were late." She gestures at the very deserted store. "Did you fuck someone and regret it?"
Steve can't help but to think about Billy's flushed skin and gasps.
"I don't really regret it," he admits. Just whom, maybe. Or maybe he regrets not kissing Billy sooner.
Okay okay, that's the real crisis. Steve likes Billy. Billy Hargrove of all people. Robin always tells him that his taste sucks and she might be onto something. Steve wants to kiss Billy all the time. It's just... Billy asked Steve to fuck him in a fucking bathroom stall at a dirty gas station yesterday and Steve would rather take him out for dinner.
He knows he can't, but he knows there are better places than gas stations and the back of their cars. Billy just always laughs it off when Steve tries to talk about it. Or distracts him with a sloppy blowjob, because that always works.
"But?" Robin raises a brow.
"I want more than sex," Steve groans. "That's the problem."
"I mean… why don't you just say that?" Robin sighs like she is his English teacher who is despairing of his spelling for years now.
That sounds way too easy. Nothing is easy with Billy except orgasming.
"It's complicated." Steve groans and turns around to get the last tapes from the counter.
Steve freezes.
Billy is staring at him, eyes wide, clutching a VHS to his chest. Of course their first fucking costumer on a Saturday morning had to be him.
"Uhm." Steve wants to hide behind the counter.
Robin sucks in a sharp breath. "Steve Harrington."
Steve is never going to survive this.
"That's my name," Steve grits out. He tries to ignore his sweaty hands. "Maybe we... should talk, Billy?"
Billy tilts his head. "Maybe," he says slowly.
"Great." Steve grabs his arm and drags him towards the adults section. No way he's having this conversation in front of Robin.
Billy grins at a copy of Cruising. "Can I blow you here?"
"This isn't what I want to talk about." Steve's cheeks burn. "I... want more than blowjobs."
"We can have more than blowjobs," Billy says. "Just lemme grab a condom."
His ears are pink. It's a distraction. He tries to get Steve's dick on his side so that they don't have to talk about it. But Steve's staying strong.
"I was thinking about a date." Steve's throat turns dry.
"You don't have to wine and dine me to get some action," Billy grumbles, staring at his feet.
"But I want to," Steve nearly yells.
Billy squints his eyes. "Okay."
Relief floods through Steve. "For real?"
"Yes, Steve Harrington." Billy grins.
"Good." Steve steps forward and presses a quick kiss on his lips.
"Can I blow you now?" Billy sinks on his knees. "Just listen if anybody comes in."
Well, Steve won't say no to that. What a great way to solve a crisis. He just hopes Robin isn't eavesdropping.
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Round 5 (main finals): Chara Dreemurr (Undertale) vs. Amane Momose (MILGRAM)
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Propaganda below the cut
Chara Dreemurr (?):
They were constantly blamed for killing all of monster kind in the no mercy route, despite players choosing to go that route. People ignored that they sacrificed themselves to attempt to free the monsters from the underground.
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everyone wants to blame their own actions (genocide route) on chara, who is a literal child. i don’t know how to tell you this but you are the one playing the game. it’s about YOUR CHOICES. chara is there is punish you for that, you killed the only family that ever loved them! how could they not be upset at that! also if you don’t mind, here’s a good video essay on the subject 
youtube
Amane Momose (12):
Amane was voted guilty in the first trial so that she would acknowledge her guilt. It backfired, and now she’s considered a threat. Well, everyone is a threat, but nobody’s threat level has been as heavily discussed and debated as hers. Consider the next prisoner in line, Mikoto. He’s objectively more dangerous and cannot be restrained. He beat up the guard in trial 1, and he was able to hold his own when the other guilty prisoners were attacked. But a good incentive to forgive him is so that he will calm down. You know what? That’s a good incentive to forgive Amane too! But she *can* be restrained, so a good portion of the discussion went into how she should be voted guilty so she *will* be restrained and not a threat. Since her vote was a near 50/50, of course a good chunk of the voters expressed dissatisfaction with her forgiven verdict. Some are already planning to vote her guilty for trial 3, calling her a “lost cause”. She hasn’t even done any concrete harm yet. Hold the pitchforks until she actually causes harm, please? And what if she *was* voted guilty in trial 2? We’ve been warned that she will continue to deny our judgement. A second guilty verdict won’t make her better either, and then what? She’d be called a “lost cause” as well. There is no winning with her.
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Where do I even start? So first of all she’s an cult child who was physically and mentally abused and tortured by her parents and then (presumably) murdered her mother after her mother killed a cat that she took care of.
Now everyone in Milgram is a murderer but when Amane came and her MV showed her murder and circumstance in an admittedly highly fictionalized depiction of it the audience decided to…repeat the cycle of abuse!
She was voted guilty for the main reason of “teaching her” and helping her “realize that she was abused.” I would like to note that this tough love approach is something her parents utilized against her. “We are only doing this to help you.”
So the audience replicates Amane’s abusers and repeats the cycle of abuse and that’s pretty shitty but it isn’t exactly “Fuck Em Kids” level.
And then Trial 2 happened. Cause Amane is bitter and angry and horrifically traumatized so she acts aggressive and hostile. Especially towards another prisoner.
Now, again, everyone here is a fucking murderer (of atleast could be constructed as one) These people being able to Harm is a core concept of this series.
Yet for some reason it feels like people treat Amane as a “delusional creepy kid who wants to kill people” which completly takes away the nuance of her character. She does have the capacity to harm! Everyone here does! She’s not Uniquly Dangerous! She just has a Reason to be Dangerous. A Reason we GAVE HER by REPEATING THE CYCLE OF ABUSE.
In short: In a series full of Murderers I’m honestly a bit pissed that the 12 year old abuse victim is the one who’s treated like the guy from American Pyscho.
----
TL;DR: "We metavoted this abused, indoctrinated child guilty in trial 1, but it didn't work. Now she is a threat to three grown adults: one who is fully free and two whom she has been shown to get along with. Please metavote her guilty again so she will be restrained and unable to attack them, even though that means subjecting her to further psychological torture." Amane Momose is the youngest of ten murderers, prisoners of Milgram who are to be judged innocent (forgiven) or guilty (unforgiven). In the first interrogation (voice drama), she said that what she did was in line with her religion's doctrines. If we judged her the "wrong way", she said she will just deny the verdict. Combining the voice drama and music video, you could piece together that she was raised in a cult and abused, even though she is cheerful and downplays her pain. She never shows *who* she killed, only *why* she did. After the first day of her vote, she was 81% innocent, but this wouldn't last the whole three months. Many people voted her guilty so she would "see her sins", part of the practice commonly known as "metavoting". Her innocent percentage rapidly decreased, and she hit guilty in the last 15 days, finishing at 51% guilty. At the end of the first trial, Jackalope (who is something like a host) went over all the prisoners' verdicts and commented on the general reasoning. When he got to Amane, he *laughed* at the audience for voting that way to make her realize her sins. Trial 2 rolled around, and it was revealed that Amane's victim was her abuser. On day one, she was at 74% innocent. Seems like a cut-and-dry case now, right? Well... in the intermission, two of the prisoners (Fuuta and Mahiru) were badly beaten up and became reliant on the care of Shidou, a doctor. Amane became hostile to Shidou because what he was doing was against her beliefs. She visited all three of them on their birthdays to convince them to change their ways. She seems to be especially close to Fuuta, who is now murmuring about salvation. Guilty prisoners are psychologically tortured, forced to listen to voices that reject their beliefs. Fuuta and Mahiru both say that the mental strain is worse than their physical injuries. But Amane, who also looks worse for wear, was thrown under the bus because she isn't injured and is considered a physical threat to them (never mind that she gets along with them). She's considered a threat to Shidou, a grown man who is twice her size and fully free, while she is partially restricted by the long sleeves in her trial 2 uniform. She might indoctrinate Fuuta even though, in a prison of ten people and one guard, she's the only voice of her cult. Fortunately, she got a break. Her vote was falling at a similar rate to the first trial. But this time, it stabilized at 51% innocent, 12 days before the end of her vote. But there's no way this is over.
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phantoms-lair · 2 months
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88 for the crossover roulette.
Okay, this one took me a while
~~~~ "You really are like a cockroach aren't you?"
Vlad whirled around. No human should be in this place! Especially not one he didn't know. And he didn't recognize the tall lanky man one bit, though it was hard to make out his face covered by a hood. "How did you get in my house?"
"There are many ways to get into places Plasmius." he snarled.
Well that was that then. Whoever he was, he couldn't live. He created a duplicate behind the man, ready to strike him unawares-
Only to scream as the duplicate popped and incredible pain lanced through his body.
"Like it?" The stranger sneered, showing off his belt. "Improved model of the specter deflector. Little bit of the Plasmius Maximus built in too. Good luck using your powers for the next several hours." he crouched before Vlad's prone form. "Now where were we? Oh right, you being a cockroach. You do the stupidest shit and then you escape consequences by lying. You lie to your business partners before you rob them blind. You lied to Valerie about everything about ghosts. You like to yourself about how nothings ever your fault and that Mom would ever like you. You lie to Dad about being his friend while trying to kill him."
"Daniel?" Vlad gasped. The man pulled back his hood revealing a familiar face made foreign by age. This Danial was clearly an adult, though not a healthy one, gaunt and wary. "But the specter deflector?"
"Let me tell you a story Vlad. It has a sad beginning. Hell, it's sad all around, but the beginning packs a wallop. It start with a freak explosions at a fast food place causing the deaths of Maddie, Jack, and Jasmine Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley. None of whom became ghosts after that. One survivor, who only survived because his half ghost body regenerated the damage, one Danial Fenton."
"Originally the next of kin to take him is was his Aunt Alicia, but since reconnecting with his 'best friend' Jack had wanted it changed to Vlad Masters. Maddie resisted at first, but after Vlad pretended to save Danny from Pariah Dark, again an incident he'd caused in the first place and again lying, she'd agreed."
"But Vlad wasn't as happy to have control of the boy as he once would have been. He'd blamed him for living when his mother hadn't. He wanted the boy to act grateful for even being in his presence when all the boy wanted was to have died with his loved ones. Needless to say it didn't work out. But did you give him to his Aunt? No. You decided you just needed a better version of him. You'd already been working at your cloning experiments, even if they weren't...built to last." He looked a tube containing a small girl sadly. "But you did the thing you did best besides lying. You got greedy."
"I was at your mercy. Obviously you could have harvest my DNA at your leisure and made a perfect clone, but you decided you wanted more. You decided to splice your own DNA in, so it would truly be 'your' son and that's where everything went wrong."
"You're the first halfa Vlad, but you know how first drafts are. Or maybe you don't, I doubt you ever did your own work. First drafts are messy and incomplete. And that's you as a halfa. Twenty years of experience, but Little Me was catching up to you in less that one. He was also good to go without any serious recovery time while you needed years of hospitalization and even then had flare ups. In terms of blending I was mayonnaise, kept stable and homogenous. You were oil and vinegar, constantly trying to separate. That's what the ecto acne was, you know. Not some skin condition like puberty gone wrong. It was your human body trying to purge itself of ghostly contaminants. Trying to reject Plasmius. And maybe you'd be healthier if you let it."
"But back to the point. You were an imperfect halfa. And you passed that along to the clones you made with your DNA. They failed even faster and you decided the solution was more power. You used me as a battery, draining my ectoplasm into your creation, damaging my body so much I can't create more. You essentially made me human again Vlad. But it still wasn't enough. And you decided it couldn't need much more, so you decided to transfer a bit of your own, only for your creation to take all of it."
"I guess credit where credit it due, you cured my death wish. I lived. I escaped and warned people. They didn't believe me of course. Thought I was mad with grief, especially Val. Until the attacks started. I don't know what the fuck you made with our combined DNA, but whatever it was it had both our memories and neither of our moral compasses, or at least any you pretend to have. It fed off death. And no one was ready for it. For a while I was imprisoned because it would pretend to be me and as such I was deemed a risk. But time helped that. I aged and it didn't. It's human form would always be 14 year old Danny Fenton while it's ghost form was a horrible amalgamation of us. It killed. It destroyed. Anything we did to keep it out it would eventually overpower. Until we decided to game the system."
"Time travel, Vlad. Remove the triggering incident. But not even Clockwork can change things all willy nilly. But what he did was seed things in the past to make the Observants of then panic and order him to fix it. Of course they did it by ordering my death, so Clocky had to work around that. Prove Little Me was worth the chance. Little Me ended up in my time and guess what you did Vlad? Can you guess? You lied again. Made up a whole sob story of how you were just trying to help me with my grief by surgically removing my ghost half and how my ghost half then attacked and stole yours and you'd spent all those years trying to fix it. And he believed you. He's burdened with guilt for a time that never happened and believes you're capable of changing and deserve a second chance. Your lies always work, don't they. But I know better. You can't lie to me, not anymore."
"But I'm not going to kill you Vlad, do you know why?"
"Because you're Daniel. I'm sure you're telling yourself something about how I'll suffer more alive, but the truth is you just can't bring yourself to do something like cold blooded killing." Vlad sneered.
"Wrong. You have no idea what I had to do to survive the hell you made." Danial smiled. "I just respect dibs."
"What? OW!" Vlad's body spasmed as something was forcefully injected into it. He looked up behind him and saw an older version of Valerie Grey, twirling a pressure injector, almost exactly like the ones he used to treat his symptoms when they reoccurred. (The scheming part of his brain realizing that would mean it wouldn't raise any alarms if marks from it were found on his body)
"A little compound based on one of the Fenton's projects. I strengthens ectoplasm and makes it stronger. It would be a real boost for past Danny or any other ghost. But for you? Well, your human form was barely holding it together with the ectoplasm you had."
Vlad whimpered, feeling the bubbling under his skin he recognized from his ectoacne only a hundred times worse.
"Goodbye Vlad." Valerie uncaringly stepped over his dying form and wrapped her arms around Danny, the two joining in a kiss.
"It worked." There was joy in Danny's voice for the first time in along time. "It really worked Val. The future, our loved ones, they're safe."
"They are." Valerie smiled down on him. "So we doing this?"
"Yeah. It's selfish, but I think we've both earned a little selfish." Danny pulled a USB and stuck it in Vlad's computer, Mikey's code rewriting several things. "There we go, edited to include another clone of me and one of you."
"How long are we going to have to be in those tube?" Val wrinkled her nose a little.
"Not long. The evidence we dropped off should get the investigation here in less than a day. Also I missed seeing you with long hair."
"It wasn't practical." Valerie grinned. "But Little You saw me with the buzzcut so I had to grow it back." Thankfully with all the wonders of the Infinite Realms, something to instantly grow hair was downright mundane and something Clockwork had been happy to maintain the timeline.
The story now was the story that had to be. If the Observants discovered they were manipulated they might undo their undo. But Vlad had to be handled and with the narrative the Observants had gotten they wouldn't do it themselves.
(Valerie had actually ranted about this, about how even in the lie Vlad had spun the Monster was half him, But the Observants had put all the blame on the mourning 14 year old. Typical.) The 'responsible' thing would be to let themselves fade from the timeline. Or barring that disappearing and starting new. But as Danny had said, they'd earned a bit of selfishness.
If they posed as clones of their past selves there was a chance their families would be contacted and taken in. It was a gamble. Maybe the authorities they'd contacted would destroy them or turn them over to the GiW. Maybe the Fentons or Damian Grey would see them as a violation of their children and reject them. But they'd take the gamble. It wasn't any worse than the one they'd just taken to save the future. And besides, their younger selves needed all thee help they could get
Sure Danny didn't have powers anymore, but he had the experience fighting his younger self had lacked. If everything worked out, not even Pariah Dark would have a chance against two Danny's working together.
~~~~
Future Danny, Valerie, and Clockwork: We'll seed these images to the Observants so they know all they have to do to save the future is prevent the explosion
Observants: Naturally there's only one way to fix this, KILL THE CHILD
Future Danny, Valerie, and Clockwork: *facepalm*
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