#anyway i am a disaster sorry <3

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

hey y’all, realized i forgot to mention that my last bloodwork came back positive for not one! but FOUR types of toxic mold! so uh... that might have something to do with why i’ve felt really really extra awful for a while now. :)

i’ve started a supplement my doctor recommended, but that’s also sort of making me feel awful, so let’s hope i’ll feel a little better once that’s done.

anyway, sorry to everyone whose messages i haven’t answered, i not only have worms in my brain, my insides are fuckin moldy. :/

[surreal-duck]

Tuesday is chuu day! (x)

[communistkenobi]

I know being like “communism is religious” is an extremely annoying thing to say but I’m reading a book called red demiurge which is about the legal history of the soviet union and honestly that title is not hyperbole

[boyjoan]

overnight oats are god's most wretched creation

[windfighter]

Can you tell I don't care about football?

The title isn't even a title. I just really don't care about football and this is the second??? third??? time I use it to hurt this blorbo. Enjoy x3

Prompt: Blurry vision | Support | ”I think I need to sit down”

-----

Kouji stumbled. The world spun around him, out of focus. His head hurt. The air was thick and heavy and hard to get into his lungs. His heart banged against his ribcage. Quick beats like a woodpecker. An arm wrapped around his waist.

”You okay?”

Kouichi. Kouji leaned against him, blinked. Okay wasn’t… the right word.

”Think I’m sick”, he mumbled.

He waved a hand infront of his face. He could see it, but the edges were blurry. It probably meant something.

”World’s…”

He didn’t quite find the words to explain. Was too tired. His heart beat too loudly. Why did he come along to the park to begin with? His body tilted forwards and he didn’t have energy to fight it. Kouichi tugged at him, tried to get him to stay standing. It wouldn’t work.

”...think I need to sit down”, Kouji said.

Kouichi tugged at him again. Turned around a bit. Kouji had no idea what he was searching for.

”Alright, let’s get you seated down”, Kouichi said.

He took a step. Kouji tried to lift a foot, but his knees buckled. Hit the ground. Kouji’s head spun worse. He leaned forwards, hands against the grass. Closed his eyes. He could hear the others come closer as well. Izumi, Junpei, Tomoki and Takuya. He opened his eyes, but they didn’t want to stay open.

Why had he come along to the park?

A hand was placed on his shoulder, someone shook him. Sounds were starting to be just as blurry as his vision.

”Let’s get him lying down”, Junpei said. ”And get some water into him.”

Lying down sounded nice. Kouji leaned to the side, let gravity do the job of pulling him down. Hands turned him over, put him on his back. He blinked, but his eyes still didn’t want to stay open.

”Takuya, go get your bag”, Kouichi said.

Soft steps as Takuya ran away, returned. Something soft was placed under Kouji’s legs. The bag. They pulled his bandana off, put a wet towel across his forehead. His head slowly started cooperating again.

”Sorry”, he whispered.

”You have a fever”, Kouichi said.

Kouji wasn’t sure how Kouichi knew, but he nodded.

”You woke up with a fever”, Kouichi repeated, ”and decided that playing football sounded like a good idea.”

Kouji frowned. When Kouichi put it like that it made him sound like an absolute moron. He opened his eyes. The world was in focus.

”I didn’t think it was this bad?” he tried.

”You almost fainted”, Junpei said. ”That’s pretty bad.”

Kouji rubbed his eyes, yawned. Tried to sit up. Takuya put a foot on his shoulder.

”You’re not getting up until we’re sure you’re fine.”

Kouji felt small where he was on his back, with Takuya, Izumi and Tomoki towering above him. At least Junpei and Kouichi had the sense to sit down. He turned towards Kouichi.

”I’m fine, promise.”

Fine was an exaggeration, but the air didn’t feel as thick any longer. Kouichi looked at him, put his head in his hands and shook it.

”Fine, sit up if you want to.”

Takuya took his foot off Kouji’s shoulder, took a step back. Kouji stayed on the ground. He took a shaky breath. Tomoki sat down.

”Are you thirsty?” he asked.

”I’m not helpless”, Kouji answered.

”No, but are you thirsty?”

Kouji snorted. His throat felt dry.

”A bit”, he admitted.

Tomoki disappeared out of Kouji’s field of view, rummaged around in the bag under his legs. A bottle was placed in Kouji’s hand and Kouji took a few sips out of it. The water was cool despite the sun shining on them. Kouji closed his eyes and put the bottle on the ground again.

”...call mom or dad?” he asked.

He wasn’t helpless but his head still felt a bit weird and he wasn’t sure he could muster the words to explain to his parents what happened. Kouichi squeezed his shoulder, took the phone from his pocket. Kouji listened as Kouichi explained what had happened. Someone took the towel from Kouji’s forehead, rewetted it and put it back. They talked quietly, Kouji didn’t listen. He was almost drifting off.

”Mama’s on the way”, Kouichi said. ”How are you feeling?”

”Tired?” Kouji suggested.

He put a hand on his chest, massaged it. His heart felt like it was trying to escape through his ribcage. Kouichi frowned.

”Is it pneumonia?”

Kouji shook his head.

”Heart’s still racing”, he said. ”It’s uncomfortable.”

”Are you having a fucking heart attack?!”

Kouichi’s suddenly louder voice made Kouji’s head pound again. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head.

”I’m too young for a heart attack”, he said with a laugh.

”Young people can get heart attacks too, especially if they decide to work out when they have a fever.”

”Really feel like you’re scolding me now.”

He pushed himself into a sitting position. The towel fell to the ground next to him. His head spun, but not as bad as earlier. He put his hands in his lap, kicked the bag to the side. Took a few deep breaths to try and get his speeding heart under control. He hadn’t expected it to get this bad.

”It’s not a heart attack”, he repeated.

Kouichi opened his mouth to protest. Kouji was so tired. He leaned forwards, put his head in his hands.

”No, really, it’s not. Mom’s taught me the signs in case dad would get one.”

Kouichi sighed. Moved closer and sat down right next to Kouji.

”...okay then. Think you can walk to the parking lot?”

Kouji hesitated. Maybe. The thought of standing up sounded like a chore. He put a hand on the ground.

”Have to”, he answered.

Because he did, didn’t he? Mom wouldn’t be able to carry him there and he wasn’t helpless. Just a little sick and tired. He got his feet under himself, pushed himself up. The world spun. His head exploded. Someone wrapped an arm around his waist and put his arm over their shoulders.

”Easy there.”

Takuya. Kouji’s legs trembled. But he wasn’t falling back down. Success? He leaned against Takuya. Takuya laughed.

”Need me to carry you?”

”Don’t think I’m that sick”, Kouji said.

Kouichi stood up, grabbed Kouji's hand and pressed two fingers against his wrist. Kouji blinked, stared at him. There was a frown on Kouichi’s face.

”If you can carry him, please do”, Kouichi said.

He let go of Kouji, shook his head. Crossed his arms over his chest. Kouji rolled his eyes.

”That’s almost as high as your exercise pulse.”

”I have been working out”, Kouji said.

”Yeah, but it’ll usually be normal by now.”

Kouichi had that irritating know-it-all voice he got when he knew better than Kouji. Kouji rolled his eyes again and tried to take a step. Takuya followed, but Kouji’s legs didn’t quite want to carry him, his lungs didn’t quite want to get enough air. His chest hurt and his pulse sped up. He clenched his hand around Takuya’s shirt. Why did he get out of bed?

Takuya laughed, took a better grip around Kouji’s waist before leaning down. His other arm behind Kouji’s knees and the world tilted. Kouji stared at the sky. Well, this was stupid. The whole situation was stupid. He put his head on Takuya’s shoulder, released a frustrated breath.

”Just this once”, he said.

”Just this once”, Takuya agreed.

Kouji closed his eyes, counted his heartbeats as Takuya walked. Way too high, but he wouldn’t admit that if he could avoid it. Mom would know what to do. He pressed a hand against his chest. Next time he was sick he’d just stay in bed until he was better.

Yeah, no, that was a lie. He wouldn’t and he knew it.

Takuya stopped. Kouji blinked, looked around. Already at the parking lot. Takuya let go of Kouji’s legs, lowered him onto a bench. Kouji rubbed his eyes, leaned forwards. His head pounded to the beat of his heart and his stomach was starting to protest as well.

”How…” he started. Swallowed. ”How do I look?”

He hoped it didn’t come across as flirtatious. That Takuya wouldn’t answer in a flirtatious manner. He needed to know.

”Like death walked over you”, Kouichi answered.

”Yeah…”

Kouji pulled his hands across his face. Leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt like it too. He heard a car pull up, the door open. What sounded like mom’s shoes against asphalt. A hand against his knee, Kouichi’s awkward greeting. Kouji opened his eyes. Mom. She looked at him, grabbed his hand. Put two fingers against his wrist in a gesture he wasn’t supposed to notice. She frowned and Kouji agreed.

”Hey”, she said. ”Ready to go?”

She didn’t mean home, he could see it in her eyes. But they didn’t need to worry the others. He nodded, reached for Takuya. Takuya pulled him up, held him as he stumbled to the car. Mom opened the door to the passenger seat and Kouji sank down in it. Buckled up before leaning back, closing his eyes and listening to his heart pounding in his ears.

”Can I come with you?” Kouichi asked.

Their voices sounded far away, from the other side of an iron door. Kouji leaned the seat back a little. He was starting to feel dizzy.

”I’m sorry, Kouichi. Not this time. We’ll call you later, I promise.”

”From the hospital”, Kouji slurred because his brain was an asshole and decided to let it slip.

He really wasn’t feeling well. Cartoonish noises left Kouichi, or maybe it was just Kouji’s brain playing trick on him. Someone closed the door on his side, he couldn’t tell who from behind his closed eyelids. The darkness was nice though. Soft. Silent.

...they should probably have called an ambulance.

The engine roared to life and the car shook. Kouji pressed a hand against his mouth, then let it fall down. He was drained. Mom squeezed his knee, or was he imagining, and then the car jerked as mom pressed the gas pedal down. Kouji slid against the window. It was cool, released some of the ache behind his forehead. He sighed.

If whatever was wrong didn’t kill him, Kouichi would.

[poppyseed799]

Confession that will get me cancelled: I will sometimes reference super mario logan videos cuz I used to watch some. and they were honestly really funny if you ignored the problematic bits.

[musical-chick-13]

Thinking too hard about the fact that the best example I’ve ever seen of “Mentally Ill Lady is loved unconditionally-not in spite of, but because of, how fucked up she is” comes from a play that a) is over 400 years old that was written in a time where the cultural environment surrounding it wasn’t even fully past the “having OCD means you are communing with the devil” stage, and b) 90% of the people I know are only aware of because we had to read it in high school English class. Anyway, does Shakespeare know what he did by writing Lady Macbeth, DOES HE KNOW

[singsweetmelodies]

Yeah about that lizard 😬 it’s dead.. It was Alonso 💀 i even saw a pic where it’s insides were splattered on the track🥲

OH GOD ANON 🤣😭💀 fucking hell, i saw this ask just seconds after i hit post on a pierre thirst trap post 🥲🥲 talk about timing... so, uh, yeah. ummm. may that lizard rest in pieces peace. my condolences to its family etc etc. also fuck alonso

[ham1lton]

MISS BAD MEDIA KARMA

pairings: (alleged) charles leclerc x reader. lando norris x reader. george russell x reader. (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader.

warnings: misogynistic media and comments.

summary: after a night out with your fellow drivers, the media is alight with rumours and speculation about your romantic life. most people would call a pr meeting, you go through the funniest rumours on instagram live and rate them out of ten.

author’s note: i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in! also as usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote!

— part of my maneater series ꕤ

START INSTAGRAM LIVE. (20K WATCHING)

Y/N: hi guys! hi! how is everyone? how are you doing?

user1: Y/N NOTICE ME!

user2: y/n girl u look hungover as hell 😭

Y/N: am i hungover? perhaps. that’s probably why i’m doing this. jo is going to kill me but whatever.

user3: what are you planning on doing? 😭

Y/N: after yesterday’s… events. there have been a lot of rumours about me and my fellow drivers that have been spread around social media. so let’s talk through them and rate them out of ten.

user7: ain’t this a pr disaster?

user8: you probably shouldn’t do this.

landonorris: LMFAOOOOOO DO IT

Y/N: lando? how are you not hungover from last night? i’ll start with you. apparently according to this thread by twitter user y/nando, the two of us are secretly engaged to be married. okay first of all, why? second of all, no. i’m sorry. that isn’t happening any time soon. also, my schedule is too packed to be thinking about marriage plans. this one is 2/10 because c’mon.

landonorris: i’m searching that thread right now.

landonorris: wait lol why is this kinda accurate… are you sure we’re not engaged?

user7: LMFAOOOOOO

Y/N: we’re supposed to be EXTINGUISHING the rumours, not adding to them??? we are not engaged. we’re just friends. barely that if anything.

user8: BOOOOOOOOO

y/nando: it’s okay :) you’ll see that you’re perfect for each other one day.

Y/N: will we? anyways. next rumour. according to some monaco newspaper, charles and i have a secret child. this is apparently backed up by some anonymous sources.

landonorris: BOOOOO we get some shitty engagement rumour and you and charles get a child. i want a redo!

charles_leclerc: don’t deny our child y/n 😔

user6: y’all are MESSY 😭

user9: CHARLESY/N SUPREMACY 😍

georgerussell63: end the live y/n 😁👍🏻

Y/N: what is this photo? this is supposed to be proof of my pregnancy? i was just bloated from an evening of indulging at this amazing italian restaurant. it was gorgeous. whoever used this photo is dead wrong for that. this one is 5/10 cause i feel self conscious.

user12: no deadass 😭 if i was famous i would have had a million pregnancy rumours by now.

user68: no charlesy/n baby? BOOO!

Y/N: another one. george and i were spotted buying baby clothes in london. apparently george is me and charles’ baby’s godfather. there is no baby! charles and i don’t have a kid. so george is not the godfather!

georgerussell63: wait… why not? i would be a great godfather actually. i am offended.

user9: george going from telling y/n to switch off the live to being offended he isn’t the godfather of her alleged baby is crazy 😭

Y/N: also why was i shopping with george and not my alleged baby daddy? charles you’re a deadbeat to our non-existent child and that’s why this newspaper is saying that george is raising my kid?

charles_leclerc: apologies to leclerc jr but no way i’m letting george raise him.

georgerussell63: i’m not ready to be a stepdad but c’mon i’d be a great one.

user4: george isn’t the stepdad, he’s the dad that stepped up!

logansargeant: i’m upset that i haven’t been included in these rumors.

Y/N: if i was gonna ask anyone to be my baby’s stepdad it would be oscar. this rumour is 3/10 because it’s so unbelievable.

oscarpiastri: NOOOOOOOO 😰

user9: HELP???

user67: i’m watching this while doing my makeup. y/n is my favourite influencer!

user78: i was watching your vlog when i saw the notification!

Y/N: did you enjoy this vlog? for people who haven’t seen it yet, it’s detailing my offseason with my friends and family! we travelled a little and i did some work with my sponsorships! so check it out. we have some very interesting camera people.

user65: can’t believe you had the usher do your camera work for your superbowl vlog.

user8: you met beyoncé, you never gonna fail!

user67: be honest, did you faint at the sight of all the big celebs?

lewishamilton: y/n, this is all very interesting but maybe you shouldn’t be doing this? - sebastian.

Y/N: seb?? what are you doing here? and why are you on lewis’ account? don’t you have your own?

lewishamilton: i lost my login information 😅 and i got a message from charles telling me to shut this down - sebastian.

Y/N: what a snitch…

user23: he mad y/n didn’t accept their child 😭

Y/N: speaking of sebastian, here is my favourite rumour. that sebastian is my father and i’m his secret lovechild.

youryoungersis: wait…. is that why we look so different? you have a different dad???

lewishamilton: i’m not that much older than you? how can i be your dad? i’m only 13 years older than you! do i look that old? - sebastian, NOT your father.

user7: HELPSOSJSSJ

user5: NOT HIM CLARIFYING 😭😭

Y/N: that one is funny but no. we don’t even look alike! i hear a lot that we have the same mannerisms but that’s probably because i practically grew up around the guy. i’m rating this one…. 7/10.

lewishamilton: grew up around not with! - sebastian, NOT her father.

user2: BRO WE GET IT 😭😭😭😭

Y/N: so basically, time for the last one. this one is definitely the most out of pocket one.

alex_albon: BOOOOO I MISSED MOST OF IT

danielricciardo: 🤣🤣🤣

user98: HELSPSOSJ i’m laughing so hard.

Y/N: oh hi jo! how did you get in? WAIT!-

INSTAGRAM LIVE ENDED. (98K WATCHING)

[thecreelhouse]

pin back in the grenade

Paring: Steve Harrington x AFAB reader

Word count: 6k+

CW/tags: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, post s4, mentions of wounds/blood/etc., fluff, PiV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), somno if you squint (tbh not really but just to be safe gonna add that one), light dirty talk. title is from ‘liar’ by paramore. MDNI

request from this post (that was supposed to be a blurb and I am so sorry): 🩹  tending to each other's wounds, 🍯  friends to lovers, 🔥  slow burn, 🛏 only one bed

also combining this with a request I got back after s4 part 2 dropped (to that anon, I am REALLY sorry lmao) for post s4 comfort sex w/ Steve. anyway, hope y’all enjoy <3

“Do you get a new freckle every day?”

Steve’s brows crinkle together while he laughs wearily. “Huh?”

You’re cleaning the wound around his neck and can’t help noticing just how many freckles and moles he has across his body. Or, from what you can see, at least. He has his shirt off while you’re tending to his injuries from the Upside Down and Vecna’s destruction across Hawkins.

Over the last several years, Steve’s normally vacant house became a safe haven for disasters like these, also a place where the kids could be together to just hang out on the quiet, normal days. He never said it, but he loved hearing the kids laughing and yelling, sometimes having movie nights, or playing DnD; it was a welcomed sound compared to the painful quiet he had grown used to for the majority of his life. 

Tonight, no inside jokes and endearing name calling echoed throughout the house. No fighting over which movie to play first, or what kind of pizza to order, or the shouting and cheering that usually came along with playing their favorite game. If anything, there were somber conversations, softly echoing through the house, with words and emotions no kid should have to be worried about. Sometimes there was crying, or complete silence, where the only thing Steve could hear was the faint, yet now permanent ringing in his ears he had gained over the last several years. Any which way a sound like these carried through the house, it broke his heart.

So, you try distracting him as the two of you clean one another’s wounds for yet another night. You keep things light where possible, but the both of you know it’s only a bandaid over a permanent emotional scar that is torn open time and time again. The physical wounds always heal, but the heartbreak you’ve all grown accustomed to is one that weighs so heavy on everyone’s hearts, and you can’t imagine it vanishing anytime soon.

“Yeah, I swear, it’s like you’re magically turning into a connect the dots picture, or something.” Steve smiles, laughing softly through his nose at your corny attempt to keep his mind off of the trauma.

“You think so? Maybe one of these days you should come up with a drawing out of ‘em.” Steve’s trying his hardest to keep things lighthearted, too, but sometimes it’s just easier to feel the pain instead of forcing any positivity.

“Jesus, this is gnarly.” You murmur, still amazed by the damage Steve took this time around as you’re softly swiping some kind of medicated ointment along the open wound. He hisses from the dull sting, but the substance begins to numb the ache and inflammation, bringing some sort of relief, if any at all. “Do you feel like a greasy slug when you use this stuff? Because I definitely feel like a greasy slug when I use it.”

Neither of you had figured out the best way to dress the wound around his neck, so Steve had been changing clean t-shirts like bandages every few hours. The others, at least, were relatively easy to clean and dress, but they seemed to be deeper; Steve probably needed stitches on some, but he refused to go to the hospital, insisting other people in town had worse injuries, and needed the medical attention more.

“I mean, I feel slimy… but not like a slug— Jesus, how much sleep did you get last night?” At first, you think he’s asking because of your silly remark, but then he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb gently rubbing along your cheekbone, getting a better look at the dark circles draped under your eyes. You push aside the butterflies in your stomach from his touch as you reach for his clean shirt, moving his arms out in front of you to roll the fabric down and over his arms and head. For a moment, you miss his touch, but it’s back on your face after he adjusts his shirt.

“Seriously, are you sleeping at all?” He asks softly, eyes filled with worry. Leave it to Steve to worry about everyone else before himself. 

You shrug as you look away, not wanting to make a big fuss. “Last night was just rough up here,” You poke at your temple. “That’s all. I’m sure I’ll be able to sleep easily tonight with how tired I am.”

“Where’d you sleep last night?” He asks, knowing decent spots to sleep were limited now that the all of the kids were reunited again. Everyone, except Max who was at the hospital, and Lucas, who refused to leave her side. Still, there were only so many places to rest for the entire group, even in a roomy house like Steve’s.

“Um… well, some of the kids had the pullout couch, one took a recliner, Robin has the guest room, and Jonathan and Nancy have your parents’ room… so I slept on the floor in the living room.” You shrug, but you know that contributed to the lack of sleep, and extra aches in your back. How you ever easily slept on the floor as a kid during sleepovers, you’ll never understand.

Steve looks bothered by this, letting go of your face as you move to the faucet to wash your hands. “What? Why didn’t you say something? You could’ve had my bed.”

You scoff a laugh out, “Steve, you need a real bed after everything you’ve been through. I can handle the floor like a big kid.”

“Okay, well, tonight you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the floor, I don’t mind. Or I can sleep downstairs somewhere if you want sp—”

You shake your head wildly. “Don’t- I don’t wanna be alone again.” You maneuver around Steve as he slides off the counter, and you take his spot to let him tend to your wounds next. Finally, you confess, “I fell asleep once, and it was just one giant nightmare. I stayed up after that. Didn’t want to see that shit again.”

Steve washes his hands, lips pursed and brows furrowed as he keeps quiet for a moment, thinking. The two of you always trusted one another, always came to one another whenever you needed, so why the hell were you isolating yourself now?

“Next time, tell me. Wake me up. I don’t care.” Steve’s tone is firm, but he’s not upset with you. Just upset that you’re retreating into yourself when he just wants to help. 

He starts peeling off the butterfly bandages around the slit skimming vertically down your eye. It begins just above your eyebrow, running down to your brow bone, pausing across your eye before continuing just under your lash line, finishing off past your cheekbone. Instinctually, your eye begins to squint closed, but the action tugs at your skin, stinging along the edge of your wound. 

“Steve, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since high school. Why would I wake you up when you need the rest?” He starts cleaning the wound, sighing to pause himself, think carefully about what he wants to say next. You keep going. “I actually did come in last night, but you were sound asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up, not when you need the rest.”

“Close your eye for a second.” You do, appearing as if you’re failing an attempt at winking. Steve’s gently patting the cut with some sort of medical disinfectant on a cotton ball, heart aching little by little as you whimper in pain. You try keeping quiet, knowing your wounds are nothing compared to his. “You can cry you know. Or curse. Or yell. Or whatever. Stop trying to hide it.”

“Mine are like… paper cuts compared to yours.” He pats the wound dry with a new piece of cotton, sighing again. “What?”

“You don’t have to hide your pain from me. I’m not sure if you’re worried its a burden to anyone, or whatever, but you never hid from me before. What happened?” Steve begins to apply clean butterfly bandages along the deep slit in your skin. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to your lips, and you have to remind yourself your other face wound is a split in your lip. “Gotta get that next.”

“I can do it.”

“Nope, if you’re gonna nurse all of my wounds, it’s only fair if I do that for you in return.”

“Steve, you don’t have to—”

“No, but I want to. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been patching up my wounds since we were reckless little shits on the playground. You care about me, let me care about you.” His thumb gently presses on the untouched side of your bottom lip, holding it steady so he can begin fixing that one up, too. You’re too aware of how the pad of his thumb feels against your lip, wondering what it’d be like to wrap your lips around it and take him into your mouth.

“See, this is why I gotta hold your lip, you’re so twitchy.” Steve teases, unaware of why your bottom lip trembles every now and then when he’s so close. Is he really that clueless? “After this, you’re sleeping in my bed. I’ll carry you and lock you in my room if it means you’re gonna sleep like a normal person tonight.”

Your skin prickles and hair stands on end at his words. He really has no idea what he does to you with silly comments like these.

“Okay, but like…. What if I have to pee in the middle of the night?”

Steve stops his movements, snorting as his eyes close while a smile graces his features. With a shrug, he simply answers, “Hold it.”

Your jaw drops, feigning offense. “That’s fucked up, Steven.”

“So is sleeping on the floor instead of a bed.”

“You need it more than me!”

“Will you shut up for like, ten seconds? I’m almost done with this.” He’s stifling his own laughter, before murmuring, “Not gonna lie, you’re gonna look so badass when these are healed.”

“Pfffft. Maybe, but no one’s gonna be attracted to this mess.” You’re only joking, but Steve frowns as he applies petroleum jelly to your lips, generous on your cut. 

“What? No fucking way. You’re still a babe.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve. No one’s gonna kiss me after this.” You chuckle, but notice the way his eyes flicker to your lips again, lingering longer than usual, then back to your eyes. His gaze is mesmerizing, with the warm brown color and hazel undertones, you can’t bring yourself to look away. 

“I mean, I w—”

“Hey, St— oh,” Robin’s in the doorway of the bathroom, smirking at the two of you. “Am I interrupting something?” You lean back, fingers curled around the edge of the counter while Steve’s standing up straight, taking a step back from you as he clears his throat.

“N- no, we were just fixing each other up.” Steve nervously spits out, adding a shrug like everything’s cool. 

“Right. Sure you were.” Robin teases. You want to shrink into yourself and completely disappear on the spot. “Where’s the box of movies you stole from work?”

You quirk a brow at her question, then look back at Steve. “You did what?”

“Shut it— I didn’t— I borrowed them. Robin, stop spreading rumors about me.”

“Fine. Sure. You “borrowed” them,” She flashes air quotes with her fingers, and you laugh. “Where are they? The kids are driving me up a wall trying to find them.”

Steve looks puzzled, chuckling. “They’re literally right next to the damn TV. Dustin should know that by now.”

She rolls her eyes, “Oh my god,” she turns out of the room yelling down the stairs, “Dustin! Get your shit together, man!” Before walking away, she glances at the two of you again with a smirk, “Have fun playing doctor, or whatever.”

“Leave.” Steve points out the door as Robin’s already leaving.

“Yeah, you showed her.” You tease Steve, trying to let go of what he was about to say before Robin barged in. You’re sliding off of the counter, and Steve playfully pushes your shoulders from behind, forcing you out of the bathroom.

“Alright, smart ass, let’s go.” He nudges you across the hall to his room, but you try turning away. Swiftly, he turns you back towards the door. “I wasn’t kidding, I’ll throw you over my shoulder if it means getting you to sleep in a bed.” He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders, pushing you through the doorway comically.

“Steve, if you wanted me in your bed so bad, all you have to do is ask nicely.” You’re not even trying to be coy or flirt, but it makes him choke on air. You spin around quickly, “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I— wrong pipe.” He rasps out, clearing his throat. You don’t buy it, realizing your lazy joke was the reason for his coughing fit. Still, you let it go, not wanting to embarrass him. Steve continues clearing his throat as he pulls some old blankets out of his closet, and some pillows from his bed to lay out on the floor.

“Stay in your bed, I’ll take the floor, it’s fine.” You’re trying one more time, hoping he’ll stop being so stubborn and sleep in his fucking bed. 

“Why are you so damn stubborn?” He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up off the floor slightly, carrying you a few feet over before dropping you into his bed. 

“I was just thinking the same about you.” You murmur, arms crossed as you look at the bed behind you. You realize how big it is, and have an idea. “If you won’t let me sleep on the floor, just sleep next to me. There’s plenty of room for the both of us anyway.”

“Sleep— sl— next to you? Same bed?” Steve’s voice cracks, pulling giggles out of you. 

“Yes, Steve. Same bed. Unless you’ve got another one hiding around here.” You’re surprised you’re even suggesting this when the idea makes you incredibly nervous, but you need sleep, and Steve needs sleep, and you’re out of any other ideas. “If you want it to yourself though, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No- I- stop it, I’m gonna sleep on the floor, and that’s final.” His hands are on his hips, his signature, go-to move when he’s scolding the kids, but you’ve qualified for its appearance tonight, too. You rise to your knees on the bed, hitting eye level with him while you mirror him, hands falling to your hips in the same pose he has. 

Steve isn’t having it, and before you can start verbally teasing him, he’s pushing you back into bed. You catch yourself on your hands as you stumble back onto the pillows. “I’m gonna superglue you to the bed.”

“Now you’re just being a child.”

“Me? You were just—” Steve sighs, hand dragging over his face. “Just go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to!” Your bottom lip is wobbling as your bloodshot eyes tear up ever so slightly; you’re doing all you can to hold them back, reminding yourself logically this isn’t that serious, but your emotions show otherwise.

If anyone else in any normal circumstances yelled this, they’d be deemed childish. You, on the other hand, you’re yelling this for perfectly valid reasons. And Steve knows what you’re feeling all too well. One more time, his heart breaks for you, watching the panic spread across your sleep deprived face.

“I don’t want to sleep, I don’t want to watch you get hurt over and over again in my nightmares. I’ve seen that too many times in real life, it’s sickening watching you get beaten to death time and time again… and I just— fuck. Steve, just take the fucking bed. Please? I don’t want to sleep, and you need it more than me, I really don’t mind the fl—”

Steve sits next to you and pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly against him. That’s when the floodgates finally break. You grip onto his shirt, balling the fabric into your fists as you begin crying on his shoulder.

“M’not going anywhere. Promise. You’re safe, I’m safe, everyone’s okay.” You know that’s not completely truthful; Max is hanging on by a thread in the hospital, and Eddie’s gone. Steve knows this, but right now his concern is getting you to finally fall asleep. “C’mon, you’ll feel better if you lay down.” You expect Steve to gently nudge you to the pillows alone, but he keeps his hold on you, carefully laying the both of you down. “You sure you’re okay with me staying in bed?” You nod against his shoulder, wrapping yourself around him as if that’ll anchor him here for good. 

“Don’t go,” You’re mumbling into the fabric of his shirt, wanting to tug yourself closer to him, hang onto him like a clingy koala, but you’re trying to stay mindful of his injuries. 

“Not going anywhere.” Steve whispers, kissing the top of your head before lingering for a moment. “Not going anywhere without you.” Neither of you untangle from one another, and Steve’s embrace is starting to calm you down to steadier breathing and shaky hiccups instead of heavy crying filled with anxiety and dread. With your body desperate for rest and the security you feel with Steve, it doesn’t take long for sleep to pull you in. Steve’s snoring softly shortly after you fall asleep.

———

At some point in the night, the two of you untangle, rolling to opposite sides of the bed. Steve’s woken up by movement, strange shifting in the bed next to him, and an airy whimper, just loud enough for him to hear. He rubs his eyes, turning over and sees your figure, facing away from him, remembering that the two of you fell asleep in his bed. 

Steve’s not sure what time it is, nor does he really care, especially not after hearing another soft noise float from your parted lips. Trying to adjust to the dark surroundings, despite the weak glow from a night light plugged in, he stares at you, or what he can see, at least, worried you’re having another nightmare. He moves closer and leans over you, prepared to wake you up and give comfort if you need, but you don’t look scared. If anything, you look pained, frustrated; Steve’s eyes scan down your figure as you move again, noticing the way your hips roll forward against your own hand.

Holy shit.

Frozen, he can’t take his gaze off of you. He needs to. He should roll back over and force himself back to sleep, pretend he never heard anything, never saw you—

“Steve…” You murmur, languidly grinding against the heel of your palm, face buried into the pillow as you writhe under his imaginary touch. His mind starts spiraling.

That’s why you got nervous when he held your lip, or when you mentioned how with a lip scar inevitable in the near future, no one would want to kiss you, and the way the two of you couldn’t take your eyes off of one another. How you looked so mortified when Robin walked in, forcing the two of you apart. He begins to realize how this isn’t new, this has been going on for awhile, and he can’t believe how oblivious he’s been.

The signs have always been in your lingering touches, when you lock eyes with him and share knowing glances no one else would understand, the way you’ve always tried protecting him, or tending to his now routinely scheduled injuries whenever he’s caught up in anything related to the Upside Down. It’s always been in the way you’d give up your comfort for him, how you’d never complain if he woke you up from nightmares, calling at three in the morning. 

How it’s an unspoken pact between the two of you to share your fries with one another, or when one falls asleep early during movie nights, the other thoughtfully covers them in a blanket, letting them rest. How you always keep extra medical supplies in your car just for Steve’s clumsy ass. How he’s sneaking you video tapes for free whenever you visit him at work. How you insist on calling him exactly at midnight on his birthday. 

You’d drop everything in an instant for Steve, and he’d do the same for you without hesitation. Whenever he tries to put your needs first, you’re quick to point out that someone needs to care about him, too.

Steve can’t believe how clueless he’s been, and out of all the times he’s figuring this out, it’s now, while you’re having a wet dream about him. Because of fucking course it would hit him now.

While his thoughts ran in a million different directions at once, he wasn’t aware of how hard he became, hearing your cute little noises, and how he’s still pressed right against you from behind. Does he let you continue? Does he wake you up? If he does, what’s his excuse? Lie and say it was a nightmare? Or tell you the truth, risking ruining something before it could ever begin, embarrassing you on the spot?

Without warning, you turn over, still asleep as your arms slip around his torso loosely, as if you’re still trying to be careful with his wounds while knocked out. One of your legs slot between his, and Steve has to bite back a groan at the pressure against his bulge. As if that alone wasn’t threatening to make him fall apart, your hips begin moving lazily again against his leg, and he can feel your sticky heat on his skin through your sleep shorts. Steve’s about to lose his fucking mind.

“Stevie, wanna make y’feel good…” You’re still asleep as you murmur this. Steve knew you talked in your sleep, but never like this. He can’t take it anymore. One hand ends up on the hip facing away from the bed, while the other is drawn to your neck, curling to the back to hold you gently as his fingers slide up into your hair. 

“Wanna make you feel good too, angel.” He’s guiding you slowly along his thigh, tensing up underneath you; he’s not sure how to wake you up without startling you, and he doesn’t want the building desire to end so soon. 

In time with his thoughts, you begin to stir, eyes fluttering open. You blink a couple times, then Steve nudges against your core again, and you keen, throwing your head back into his hand already waiting for you.

“Oh- oh, fuck, oh my god…” You’re growing aware of the situation, realizing your dream is becoming reality so seamlessly. You’re embarrassed, you want to hide away and apologize, but Steve rubs himself against the leg you have pressed against him, releasing a throaty groan; the embarrassment falls away, fast. “St- Steve?”

“Yeah?” He’s trying not to pant this soon, trying not to sound so breathy and needy already.

“M’sorry, I- I didn’t realize that I—”

Steve shushes you softly, bringing your face closer to his as he leans in, noses touching while you’re both making the sweetest noises together. “I can stop, if you want. I- I shouldn’t just assume you want this, maybe it was a silly dream—”

“No, it wasn’t… I really want you, Steve.” Your hands test the waters, sliding up his body, but only over his shirt, before holding his face; your gaze locks with his, and despite the dim glow in the room, you can see the lust ridden look he’s giving you while nodding wordlessly to give his consent. You lean in to kiss him, lips touching ever so slightly; you freeze as self doubt sets in, but he senses it, and kisses you back fully, mindful of your split lip. 

It’s slow, almost too slow for you and how wound up you are from the dream, but you do your best to stay patient. Steve’s hand on your hip sneaks under your shirt, just enough that the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, just beneath the hem. The hand cradling the back of your head moves to your jaw, fingers splaying out to get a better hold on you when his lips part against yours. You make some kind of small noise, a muffled yelp that slips into Steve’s mouth when his tongue slips into yours. Distracted by the kiss, your hips stopped rolling, so Steve begins guiding you along his thigh again.

A moan shudders out of you as you pull back to catch your breath. Steve can’t take his eyes off of you as your eyes flutter shut, head falling back as another sweet moan leaves your lips, losing yourself in the pleasure from such a simple action.

You’re not sure when, but your hands made it to Steve’s back, fists bunched up with the fabric of his shirt, not wanting to touch any part of him that might hurt, but needing to grab something. 

“Does th- this happen a lot?” He manages to ask, and in his head, he’s rolling his eyes at himself, because he wanted that to sound so much sexier than it did. You’re in a whole different world, though, already blissed out when barely anything has happened yet.

“Mhm,” You open your eyes as you answer, the burning desire low in your body growing hotter as the two of you make eye contact again. “Can I- can we— take this stupid thing off.”

Steve laughs, realizing maybe sexy isn’t what either of you need right now; being best friends already, it only makes sense that the only time the two of you can’t form coherent thoughts laced with lust would be when you’re pressed up against one another for the first time.

Pulling his hands back, he gestures to his shirt in the goofiest way, like he’s Vanna fucking White, showing off a purchased vowel. “You can’t take this seriously, can you?” You’re not mad, in fact, you’re laughing with him, and something about the two of you nervously laughing makes you more comfortable being intimate with your best friend. 

“I’m just filling in the blanks for you, angel.” He’s smirking, but he’s also trying to stifle more laughter, so it just comes out as a product of a snicker and a snort. 

“Oh, that was real cute,” You tease, reaching for his waist. “Words, words are hard.” You’re grumbling, tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt, carefully pulling it over his head.

“Yeah, don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

Whatever smart-ass retort you had ready to roll off your tongue disappears at the sight of Steve, now shirtless. It’s nothing new to you, you’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but in the moment, you’re hyper aware of how different this is. There’s no going back, but if you were being honest, there was no going back once you moaned his name in your sleep.

“What?” Steve asks, laughter dying down as he watches you reach out to his torso, tracing his scars, both old and the ones just beginning to form. 

“You’re so… pretty.”

Steve blushes, a rosy red shade blooms across his face, to the tips of his ears. “I— shut up.”

You scoff, “I’m being honest!” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your permission, but your hands hold his back, shaking your head. Shyly, you state the obvious, “I don’t have a bra on.” Of fucking course you don’t, you never sleep in bras. Even Steve knows that, forever impressed with how you could just unhook that damn thing with one hand so casually and slip out of it, pulling it out of your shirt without ever stripping. It’d take everything in him to hold his jaw from dropping, when you just wanted out of a ridiculously uncomfortable bra.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve reassures softly, only to follow it up with, “I don’t either.”

“Alright, that’s it, I’m going back to sleep,” You tease, beginning to roll back over, but Steve grabs you quickly to roll you on top of him instead. 

“Like hell you are,” He’s tugging at your shirt again, looking up at you with those sweet doe eyes, filled with wonder and curiosity over what his best friend looks like under everything. “Don’t feel pressured to say yes. We can st—”

You’re pulling your shirt off with a determined speed, like ripping off a bandaid, throwing it on the floor. “I do not look good with these bruises.” 

Steve sits up, all humor and admiration draining from his features as he takes in all of the severe bruising you have from a few days ago. “Wh… how— why didn’t you show me? Or tell me? Fuck, I probably made some of them worse—”

“Hey, Steve, it’s okay. Seriously. I’m okay. These are nothing compared to what you ended up with.”

He shakes his head, ghosting his fingers over some of the worst bruises, blooming in the darkest shades of purple and blue he’s ever seen on someone, including himself, and that says a lot. Some are beginning to grow into that sickly yellow, even greenish color. 

“What the hell do I have to do or say to convince you that you’re allowed to show me your pain too?” He’s not sure what he’s feeling, he just wishes you said something, wishes he knew so he could care for you properly.

“There’s not much you can do for bruises, Steve.” You shrug. “M’sorry, I just wanted to put you first. You’re always caring for everyone else before yourself, and I wish you’d let someone care for you, too. I want to give you the love and care you give everyone but yourself. These mean nothing to me, I just didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Disappointed? From what? How you look with these? Because I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re still a babe with your face wounds, and that applies here too. You have… no fucking idea how badly I want to get my hands all over you, but I think we should stop. I don’t want to make those more painful than they already are.”

“Steve, I can handle it. I bruise like a peach, anyway.” You’re mentioning it casually, but enjoy the way he blushes at your words, clearly thinking of better reasons to be bruised. You smirk, “Feel free to tuck that fun fact away for another day.”

“I— I’ll bring that back up later.” He murmurs, trying to focus. “Anyway… are you sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you grab his hands, bringing them to your tits roughly. “Does this answer your question?”

Enthusiastically, Steve nods, fingers already toying with your nipples, breathing out, “Fuck yeah it does.” You start giggling until he latches onto one of the sensitive nubs, fingers softly pinching at the other every so often, in between grabbing a handful of you. He groans into your skin, thinking about how long he’s wanted to touch you like this, but it’s better than he imagined. 

You’re arching your back as he switches sides, a thread of spit unraveling from his lips that’s still clinging to you;  your eyes to roll back as you grind down onto his lap from just the sight alone, fingers twisting into his locks, tugging softly as he sucks, bites, soothes with his tongue, then repeats.

“I need…” You’re gasping, head falling back; Steve takes advantage of your exposed neck, kissing up your chest before leaving small, soft love bites up to your jawline. 

“You need… what?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, but you can’t take it slow anymore, you need him now. You grab his face to kiss him, and it’s a little sloppy, a little clumsy, but he leans into it anyway. The two of you find a semi perfect rhythm, one that flows with the way you continue to grind onto him. You nip his bottom lip, tugging on it before letting go, and Steve moans into you. 

“Need you, need you right now.” You’re frantically murmuring against his lips.

“We don’t have to rush.” He pulls back, searching your features for any sign that something is off, but all he sees are your lust blown pupils. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but—”

You kiss him quickly before pushing him back against the pillows, shimmying down his body, kissing his scars with care along the way, continuing down until you reach the waistband of his shorts.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Steve, quit being nice for, like, five minutes. Are you okay with this?”

With a gulp he nods, breathing heavily “I— I’m more than okay with this.”

“Thank fuck.” You tug his shorts down, almost drooling as you watch his length spring free, the rounded tip red with desire, leaking precum. “Steve, what the fuck.”

“You’re sending me so many mixed signals tonight, holy shit. Is that … is that good?”

You need to shut your mouth, mind too far in a cock-drunk daze to tease him with words. So, you run your tongue up the underside his cock, broadly, taking your time to reach the head, eyes on him the entire time. Steve yelps on contact, eyes screwing shut as his head falls against the pillow, but he pushes himself to look down at you, bucking against your tongue before you take him in completely.

“Jesus fucking Chri-iiiiiiiist,” He shudders out, hands tangling into your hair as you begin to bob up and down on him. “This… you… hhhhohmygod—”

You pull off with a pop that echoes off the walls, a sound Steve wishes he could’ve recorded to play when he gets off in the future, followed by the sight of you drooling onto his cock as it kicks with need.

“Tell me how you really feel, Steve,” You tease before taking him in again, but he holds your head in place, making you pout. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no, fuck no. Your mouth feels so fucking good, angel, but I need… I…”

“Take your time, babe, it’s okay.” You tease, making Steve groan, both with annoyance and a craving for you to get mouthy, just not now. 

“Fuck me, just need you to fuck me, please baby,” He’s babbling as he tugs you back up his body, hands on your hips as you hover above his cock. “Need to feel you, angel.”

You push your shorts down and throw them to the floor with your shirt. “Yeah?” You lightly rub your core against his cock, and he bucks with a desperate whine. 

“Yes, please, please—”

Words become nonexistent as you sink down onto him slowly, walls slowly stretching around him, adjusting to his size.

“Knew you w- were big, but not like… not like this.” You’re panting, overwhelmed by the slight pain from taking him to the hilt, but the pleasure is greater, rendering your brain useless. Not a damn thing on your mind except Steve and how fucking good he feels so deep inside of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Steve gasps, grip digging into your hips roughly, knowing he’s just adding to your bruises, but he’ll apologize later. “You’re so— never felt a pussy tighter than yours, angel. M’god, don’t fucking move.”

You giggle, and he glares at you. “Don’t— do not do that either, just… fucking sit there for a second, okay? I’m really not trying to blow my load this early.” You’re doing your best to keep stoic, nodding as you fold your hands and wait patiently. “Oh my god, why are you like this?”

Shrugging, you begin to reply, “Why n— oh!” Steve pulls you down to him roughly, kissing you as he begins to move, fucking you slowly from below. He guides you by the hold on your hips, bouncing you on his cock, causing your eyes to roll back as he moves a hand to the back of your head. Holding you tightly against him, your forehead rests against his as the two of you gasp and pant lewdly onto each other’s lips. You’re riding him like no one else has, to the high fucking heavens, and he swears he’s gonna die a happy man right here, underneath you.

“How often have you dreamt about this?” You shamelessly ask, sitting up and leaning back as you roll your hips, grinding down so he hits your sweet spot just right. Steve’s speechless, flexing up into you, jaw slack as your walls flutter around him. “You’re so pussy-drunk right now, huh?”

A strained “Mhm,” leaves him; he’s not even going to hide how he’s putty in your hands, right now, and as long as you’ll have him. Finally, he rasps, “Fuck, wish we did this sooner.”

“We got all the time in the world to make up for it, Stevie.” Your legs twitch and shake, signaling you’re not far off from your high, but they’re also sore still from days ago, and right now, you’re just making them hurt more. Great cause, of course, but it doesn’t dull the pain, so you’re beginning to slow down. “Fuck, my legs hurt.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Steve pulls you back down arms wrapped around your back, one hand gripping around his other wrist, keeping you stable as he plants his feet against the bed, fucking up into you with everything he’s got. “It’s okay, angel, I’ve got ya’.” He grunts, hammering into you with so much force, you can’t help but moan loudly, almost screaming, but you bury your face into his shoulder, biting down to muffle your noises as you flutter around him. “Fuck, didn’t think you were so vocal.” At this point, you are screaming, but the noise barely leaves you as you keep your mouth on his skin.

Steve’s hips are starting to stutter, and his cock twitches, needy for release. “Good girl, don’t wanna wake up the whole house, right?” That’s the final push over the edge for you; grabbing Steve’s face, you kiss him deeply to keep quiet. The faint, metallic taste of blood works its way onto your tongue, and you realize your semi-treated split lip is split once again. You pull back, trying to keep as quiet as possible, frantically whispering, “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you—” Following you into bliss, Steve pulls you back onto his lips as he cums, filling you shamelessly as you still squeeze him, milking him for all he’s got as he’s moaning into you.

When the two of you come down, covered in a sticky sheen of sweat and hearts ready to beat out of your chests, the shame hits fast as he pulls back enough to murmur, “Fuck. I didn’t even ask—”

“Birth control is a beautiful thing, babe.” You smile down at him, breathless. Steve sighs relief, thankful for whoever the fuck created the pill. His eyes fall to your lip before thumb swiping the mess away.

“Shit, m’sorry.”

“Worth it. So fucking worth it.” You giggle before he kisses you softly. 

Pulling back, Steve reaches out to cup the side of your face, and you lean into his touch, giddy and exhausted all at once.

He’s admiring the view of you above him, softly replying to your confession, “I love you, too.” 

The two of you are basking in the afterglow of one another, beaming and holding each other tight, unable to move just yet. Steve doesn’t mind taking a second to catch his breath, but then a loud bang against his bedroom door startles the both of you.

“About fucking time!” Robin shouts from the other side before walking away. Faintly you hear her huff, “Noisy assholes.” Steve locks eyes with you, both of you stunned and embarrassed before bursting into a fit of laughter together.

“Still worth it?” Steve teases, and you shrug playfully.

“Worth what, the impending shame fest they’re gonna put us through tomorrow morning?” You lean down to kiss him again before replying against his kiss-swollen lips, “Oh, fuck yeah.”

[wings-of-ink]

Update!

Hey everyone, just wanted to check in with you. I hope you all doing well!

Right now, I am feeling good about getting chapter 3 out by 4/30. It's a crunch for sure, but barring any disasters in the work itself or my personal life, I feel like it is doable. My aim is to get it to a point where it is release-worthy but will still need fine tuning after the fact. I generally like to edit things a couple times at least and have it play-tested, but I won't have time for all that. But, this is a work in progress, and I can always make improvements as I go. There are also a couple segments that I did not have time to add, but they're not pivotal to the story. I will add them if I find the time before the 30th (sorry to those who wanted to make a tasty cake for someone).

So far, I have gone through chapters 1 and 2 again and made some corrections to typos and grammar. I added a white hair option with some flavor text, and some other flavor text for purple eyes. The option to have your MC's hair turn grey (streaked or fully grey) from stress/illness was added, but I did not do it in the way I needed to, so if I have time, I'm going to fix that before release. I also updated some of the variable values of certain choices. A name bank was added for anyone who might struggle to come up with a name for their MC. I made all but one of them correspond to the marks. There's a wild card in there for the adventurous, lol. The codex was also updated.

Today, I am editing chapter 3. My very gracious boss encouraged me to take the day off, and I'm feeling pretty good, so I'm using this as an opportunity to get some serious work done.

If you're curious and don't mind my rambling about my life, you can read about my ordeal below!

I am feeling much better. I had a couple rough days in the past week, but mostly brought on by medication my dentist wanted me to take to stave off possible infection in a broken tooth. I had a less-than-stellar reaction to it, and it gave me insomnia and anxiety. Simply fantastic.

But, I had the root canal yesterday (got lucky and they had a cancelation so I was able to go in 5 days early). I am happy to report it was not bad at all. In fact, it may have been the easiest dental procedure aside from cleanings that I've ever had, lol. I was in and out within half an hour, and the endodontist numbed the fuck out of my mouth. The biggest pain was the drive there and back since I live so far away.

I chilled the whole day and took a glorious 2 hour nap, and have been sore but totally good. I even watched one of my favorite comfort-animes, Natsume Yuujinchou. If you are ever feeling poorly and down in the dumps or just need to relax, it is cute, a bit funny, and lighthearted - so I highly recommend it. So, all in all, I feel recharged and more than ready to see chapter 3 with fresh eyes!

Thank you to everyone who sent me encouraging messaging about the root canal. It really truly helped me show up for that appointment without feeling completely vulnerable. I was still anxious, because that is just what my brain do - I can't even see my GP without my hands shaking, lol. But, going into it knowing what your experiences have been helped so much.

Anyway, sorry for prattling! I'm going to get back to it now! ^_^

[syllvane]

beginnings pt 3 - nikolai lantsov x reader

“You’re settling in better than I thought you would.”

You turned around from where you were checking some knots, looking at Sturmhond.

You went back to your work quickly, not giving yourself the opportunity to look at him any longer than necessary.

Perhaps the second most frustrating thing about this whole ordeal, besides the fact that you had been completely cut off from the Crows, is that he was in fact more handsome than you had given him credit for, when he was playing warden and you, Jesper, and Kaz prisoner.

He was gorgeous and you hated him for it, if only because that was an easier option than taking a nuanced look at your feelings.

“You were the one who invited me to join your crew, did you not think I would settle in good then?”

“Yes, well I wouldn’t say that you voluntarily joined the crew.”

“And if I had joined when I was in handcuffs, that would’ve been voluntary?”

“Give yourself some credit, you had already broken out of the handcuffs by then,” He said and you looked at him to see him already smiling at you.

You shook your head in disbelief, but couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips.

“I am truly sorry, that we couldn’t bring you back to Ketterdam. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it’s-”

“I know. Sun Summoner gathering amplifiers and tearing down the Fold trumps returning me to my friends.” You said, tugging at one last knot and, satisfied, turning to him. “What about you? What’s your interest in tearing down the Fold?”

His face shifted into an expression that you hadn’t seen yet in your several days aboard the Volkvynk, his eyes trying to peer into your mind.

“There’s a lot of money to be made.“

You scoffed, the obvious lie sitting in between the two of you. He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m familiar with men who think that the only sacred thing in this world is profit. You’re not one of them.” You said, watching the careful, guarded expression on his face. “You’re doing this because you care about Ravka. Because you’re a good person, underneath all the charm and sarcasm and wit.”

The corners of his lips turned upwards.

“Careful, that sounded an awful lot like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t. Just an observation.”

“You’re quite good at this.” He said, motioning around you. “Sailing, I mean, not observations.”

You rolled your eyes.

“My parents taught me a little bit when I was younger, before they died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. I never knew them enough to miss them.” You said simply. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re having a conversation and I’m oversharing.”

He laughed slightly before looking out over the horizon, a faraway, distant look in his eyes.

“My name- my real name, is Nikolai Lantsov. My crew knows, the Sun Summoner doesn’t. It’s not something I usually advertise.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.” You said, holding your thoughts close to your chest. “All of this, Stumhond, the Volkvolny, is to help Ravka.”

“That’s what I’m hoping, anyways.” He said, still looking off into the horizon.

You looked at him and, for maybe the first time, allowed yourself to really look at the man standing besides you, sun painting his skin golden and his eyes bluer than the sea.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nikolai.”

He turned, looked at you and smiled.

You swallowed the fluttering in your chest, like you could choke the butterflies if you tried hard enough.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

tag list: @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mischiefmanaged71 @lunamadhatter99 @feyredarling92 @reverse-iak @zanmorgan @criesinlies @ducks118 @home-of-disaster @96jnie @inluvkai @maddieg1025

[hurtspideyparker]

Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

[maddymoreau]

Banban Analysis

I think Banban's story is the most interesting part of Garten of Banban and I'm extremely excited to see how it plays out. This discussion is essentially going to breakdown what Banban is and go through some of his behavior in the first four chapters.

Banban is the #6 experiment created by combining human genome from one of the doctors named Uthman Adam with Givanium for the upcoming Bring-A-Friend Day.

At the time Case #6 was considered a success outside one flaw. He views himself as human and as the actual Uthman Adam.

Once Case #6 and the real Uthman Adam were introduced to each other this lead to disaster.

As described (in Case Report #13 Update #3) Case #6 has a complete meltdown.

Which results in two things happening:

1. Case #7 named Banbaleena is created.

Since Dr. Weverly Mason was the only person Case #6 was willing to communicate with it's speculated her genome was used to create Banbaleena. Especially since the real Dr. Uthman and Dr. Mason are close.

While Case #6 and Banbaleena both view themself as their human genome donor only Case #6 was introduced to his.

It's unconfirmed how Case #6 perceives Banbaleena. Either as her human genome donor or something else. Regardless he recognizes something in Banbaleena resulting in their long hug.

Banbaleena helps Case #6 feel less alone however it doesn't change his disobedient and aggressive behavior.

Sidenote while this part is also speculation the parallels felt too similar to not mention:

During Chapter 3 when Case #6 has us make Nabnab a companion he say, "Nabnaleena was that solution. We had a theory that Nabnab was as aggressive as he was due to his loneliness."

While part of the reason we're creating Nabnaleena is because Nabnab is on the hunt making it too dangerous to do anything. I think since Banbaleena helped ease Case #6's loneliness that's part of the reason he has us help finish creating Nabnaleena. As a way to help Nabnab no longer feel lonely.

2. They used a newly-modified Givanium to lower Case #6's ability to self-think.

We actually witness Case #6 fall victim to his primitive instincts during one of the secret tapes in Chapter 3:

Case #6 is constantly struggling in between an internal battle Uthman Adam (who he perceives himself as) VS Banban (his violent primitive instincts).

After all it's Banban who has it's iconic quote:

Even though Case #6 has met the actual Uthman Adam he still perceives himself as the real one.

We witness this through countless dialogue. Even during the creation of Nabnaleena this is mentioned. "We had a theory that Nabnab was as aggressive as he was due to his loneliness." Referring to himself as one of the doctors despite the fact Case #6 isn't.

The saddest example being this conversation in Chapter 4.

"I feel now is a good time to introduce ourselves, which we haven't done up to this point if you can believe it. I am Uthman. I worked here before everything came crashing down, literally and figuratively."

"My coworkers and I should've spoken up sooner. Perhaps all of this should've been prevented then. But then again, my coworkers weren't really friends in those last couple of months anyway, so it would've needed some good planning."

"You ever had those friends that suddenly turn on you for no reason? To say mine turned on me would be an understatement. They suddenly stopped talking to me. They looked at me like I was some sort of monster. Sometimes I lose my temper, sure, but it seemed excessive. I was and still am confused, to say the least."

The awful way Case #6 was treated by his "friends" could also explain his behavior in Chapter 2.

"Look, i'm sorry I hit you but you gotta understand I needed something from you that I could only get if you were unconcious and I was all out of sedatives. If you'd seen me, you wouldn't have trusted me, I know it. But there was one thing I didn't lie to you about, and that's me knowing why you're here."

I find Case #6's confusion SO INTERESTING!!! You have a character who knows others view him as a monster yet he cannot understand why. Since when Case #6 looks in a mirror he sees "himself."

While Case #6 holds all of Uthman's memories before his creation.

Who is the ACTUAL Dr. Uthman?

We have these two notes.

Along with one letter between Dr. Uthman and Dr. Mason discussing the ball pit which reads, "This thing can barely support the amount of children we have enrolled in the kindergarten. We're having double that tomorrow. Something really bad is going to happen, and we need to be as far away from here as humanly possibly when it does. We've been on the bad side of the wrong people for a long time, and if we're still here when everything goes down, it will be the end of both of us. If not at the hands of angry parents, then at the hands of our superiors."

"A place like this should not exist. The stuff we've witnessed here should not exist. The casualties that will result from this catastrophe will only serve the greater good; which is shutting down this place once and for all."

"I'll have a plan ready for tomorrow. now, you just pack your things."

We don't know if this plan, Bring-A-Friend Day or something else are the result of how things have turned out.

Regardless both Dr. Uthman and Dr. Mason were unable to escape. We don't know what happened to Dr. Uthman but we do know Dr. Mason is currently with our child (from the notes they've left).

Boarding passes found in Chapter 1:

There's one MAJOR difference between the real Dr. Uthman and Case #6. Unlike the real Dr. Uthman who was prepared to abandon ship even viewing the potential disaster and casualties as something for the greater good.

Case #6 wants to help and even acknowledges, "My coworkers and I should've spoken up sooner."

While Case #6 may be hiding another ulterior motivate since he retains most memories of Uthman including knowledge of the secret down in the basement.

I think overall he's being honest with his goals mentioned in Chapter 2, "But there was one thing I didn't lie to you about, and that's me knowing why you're here. You're here for your children. I, too, am working towards saving them if you can believe it. But someone else has them. Someone far stronger than you and me both that resides deep in the abyss."

However due to the internal struggle he experiences falling into his violent primitive instincts from the newly-modified Givanium. When control is lost that alters his goals to eating our pancreas.

Case #6 is constantly having to work around himself.

For simplicity in this upcoming section I'm going to refer to regular Case #6 as Uthman and the Violent Instincts as Banban.

Chapter Two

The first Case #6 we meet is in Chapter Two is Banban.

At first tricking in the player and hitting them from behind Banban says, "Three birds with one stone!"

Note: Mr. Kabob Man the statue in Chapter 3 that imitates Banban also says the quote, "Three birds with one stone!"

"I get all of your keycards, I get the perfect specimen AND I don't have to deal with that thing down there. And it's all thanks to YOU! Oh come on, I didn't hit you THAT hard. Or maybe I did. Either way, it's best you take a nap while I prepare for our little surgery."

Despite this they also leaving us a note warning about the attack. However it reads as more of taunt to me.

While Banban mentions a surgery and using us a specimen nothing actually happens to the player.

Uthman could’ve gained controlled but I think that Banban was possibly prepping things when we woke up earlier then expected.

Since during Banbaleena's class Banban says, "Also teachers, please keep in mind that we are on the lookout for a very, very naughty student believed to be accompanied by a drone. If you catch them, call Principal Banban’s office immediately."

Very very naughty doesn’t feel like something Uthman would call the player.

When we later reunite with Case #6 there's a glass barrier between us. We can tell this is Uthman due to his behavior. He apologizes, is upfront with his goals and informs the player of a way to escape Banbaleena and Jumbo Josh.

Chapter Three

We first encounter Uthman over the speaker system.

"Glad to see you made it! I don't know how you did it, but then again you survived a giant elevator crash so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Also, again, I apologize for hitting you over the head. In fact, it is for this reason that I believe we should not meet face-to-face. You see, for whatever reason I am prone to violent instincts, and I do not trust myself to not give into them again."

"I have locked myself inside of a surveillance room. That way I can help without being a danger to you."

Uthman sticks to his word helping the player throughout the chapter. It's ONLY when brought face-to-face by Stinger Flynn that Case #6's violent instincts come out. Being drawn to the smell of the player's pancreas.

"You can run away, but the smell of your pancreas will always draw me to you . . ."

Resulting in a chase scene and eventually a fight between Jumbo Josh, Banban and Stinger Flynn.

Chapter Four

When you reunite with Uthman in the infirmary he says, "When the Queen mentioned having many new visitors in one day, I knew it had to be you. Listen, whatever happened to me . . . Whatever I tried doing to you . . . Just know it wasn't actually me. I was forced to obey without much thought. I tried communicating with you from afar for a reason. Now you know the true reason why."

"Still, I want to make it up to you. The queen filled me in on the situation with the elevator. I want to help with that. I feel much more in control now. I'll come help you find the missing pieces of the elevator. I just need to rest for a little bit and I'll meet you at whatever that station is."

Which Uthman does until a fight between him and Nabnab breaks out. Which I think is really cool considering Nabnab is his opposite. Both in name and character wise.

Despite Uthman transforming into Banban during the fight he is able to restrain himself. Not attacking us for our pancreas even though we're so close.

This is the final scene we see Case #6 AND I'M SOOO INVESTED IN HIS STORY AND SEEING HOW IT PLAYS OUT!!!!

Also I like how Case #6 cares deeply for some of the other experiments. Whether it's some form of kinship or out of a sense of duty believing to be partially responsbile for creating them.

Examples of this are:

When Jumbo Josh falls for one of Sheriff Toadster's trap Case #6 comments, "Poor Josh . . . I can't imagine how confusing this has all been for him . . ." Holding no resentment despite the fact they fought in Chapter 3.

In Chapter 4 Case #6 intends to hand over the imposter statue AKA Mr. Kabob Man to someone he describe as, "very close to me." (This is speculated to be Zolphius). Even commenting, "He must've gotten very lonely, but I got him a new friend."

In Chapter 2 Case #6 indulges in Banbaleena’s behavior. During her class over the speaker he refers to himself as Principal Banban.

I find it interesting the non-human version acts more humane than the real Uthman.

[eponymous-rose]

So I've been playing Baldur's Gate 3 like everyone else and had An Incredibly Wild Combat Experience just now...

(spoilers under the cut for an early-game fight; if you don't care about the game, this is 100% parse-able as a d&d fight)

So there I am with my character Amisra (elf fighter), and a party consisting of Karlach (tiefling barbarian), Astarion (elf/vampire-spawn rogue) and Gale (human wizard). We venture into the lair of a hag to try to rescue this woman she's kidnapped and I'm getting a little blithe when it comes to spell slots and short rests - everyone's starting to look pretty rough, and then there's a long stretch of having to navigate carefully around traps, mostly via jumps that I actually remember to have Feather Fall on this time. "No problem," I think like every D&D player before me, "I'll simply take a long rest before the boss battle." And the game, in its DM-ish wisdom, says, "No, you can't long rest in the lair of an actively hostile enemy, what were you thinking???" and that's how I get into a fight that's way, way over my head.

I'm giving it my best shot, dealing with illusory hag-enemies and complicated terrain, but it's clear this is going to be my first total-party-kill of the game. Several characters have been knocked down and brought back up, and we've been in enough of a bad state that all of our healing potions are gone (leading me to the realization that you can craft in battle, which then leads to all of the crafted potions also being consumed).

The stage is set for disaster: the hag still has half her health (60-something points), and my whole party is out of all spell slots and fancy tricks. Astarion and Karlach are knocked unconscious on the other side of the room via Ray of Sickness, making death saves. Gale and Amisra are in some sort of necrotic zone that's dealing damage every round.

The immediate turn order: Gale, Hag, Amisra. Gale has 1 HP and will be unconscious from the necrotic damage after his turn. Amisra has a whopping 7 HP but is being held in the damage-over-time area by a Hold Person spell she cannot seem to save against. The hag has a perfect shot on everyone in the room.

So I'm sitting there like "well, it was a fun run while it lasted" and trying to remember when I saved last. At this point, I figure I might as well go for a little roleplay flair and try to think of what Gale would do for this, his final turn. Well, he'd look to magic. But, uh, sorry, those cantrips aren't going to deal 60 points of damage and get you out of your current predicament. Too bad.

Hang on. I've picked up so many scrolls, surely there's something there that might be a fun finish. Scroll of Flying? Nah, then I'll just die in midair. Scroll of Ray of Enfeeblement? Yeah, I'm sure she'll be real sad that her melee attacks do marginally less damage as she annihilates us with ranged attacks anyway. Scroll of Feign Death? Who's ever even used that spell successfully in a video game? What would you even--

Wait. Scroll of Feign Death. Resistance to all damage types except psychic, puts the target in a comatose state. Gale's going to be unconscious next round, but Amisra still has 7 HP...

So Gale, very dramatically, pulls out this scroll and casts the spell on Amisra, who Feigns Death very convincingly considering she's frozen on the spot and slowly taking damage. And Gale takes the last burst of damage himself and falls unconscious.

The hag absolutely doesn't stop there and keeps hitting Karlach, Astarion, and Gale until they're dead... but she never targets Amisra. She thinks she's dead. She actually thinks she's dead! And she might be right, as Amisra takes 2 HP and 1 HP of damage each turn, frozen in place...

And the hag just... stops. Everyone is dead, right? Yup, four bodies on the ground. Time to go and do whatever it is hags do for fun. She leaves the battlefield.

And Amisra finally saves against the damage-over-time with One. Frickin'. Hit. Point. Remaining.

I as the player have about 1 HP remaining myself as I fumble frantically to move Amisra out of the dangerous area and manage to remember how to use a mouse in time to cast a Scroll of Revivify on Gale. Two of us, each stumbling around at 1 HP, no other healing available, no idea where the hag is in her lair, the rest of our (very dead) party on the other side of the giant room, and a huge path of traps and treacherous drops to get back to the surface. What can we do but press on, deeper into the lair?

In the next room, which I have never seen before, I am shaking. If there's a trap, we're probably done. I'm too nervous to try looting anything in the room - what if she comes back? And then I see a sparkly fairy circle of mushrooms, looking an awful lot like an exit. No way. NO WAY.

I click that fairy circle so many times and just hold my breath as the two remaining party members stumble to the exit... and promptly appear back in the (slightly less dangerous) bog. The bog where, in its infinite DM-ly kindness, the game finally allows us to make camp, where I can resurrect Karlach and Astarion in peace.

And that's how we avoided a Total Party Kill with the most situational spell scroll use imaginable!

Edit: Also, a tip for when I did go back to fight the hag - a 2nd-level Magic Missile auto-hits up to 4 targets, so if you position Gale toward the middle of the room you can take down all 4 illusory hag-clones in one turn. Ahh, it was nice to have spell slots again.

[weemssapphic]

ohhh, first of all: HIII i adore your writing. The visions fic in particular? easily one of my faves. ("favs, say favs" [i cannot not hear Gwen say that whenever I say/write faves]) Anyway haha, I was wondering if you could maybe write a female potions teacher/ Larissa fic where you borrow the concept of Amortentia and when they brew it in class Reader realises she's utterly and hopelessly in love with Larissa (and maybe Larissa is also there as extra supervision bc it's such a "dangerous" potion?"... and she also smells smth that reminds her of the reader?)

Amortentia: Fated Attraction

aw thank you so much! favs, say favs hehe that made me giggle :D thank you for the request <3 this was so much fun to write and i hope it lives up to your expectations! ao3 link in title, as per usual.

thank you to @afeatherformills for editing and to @sapphicsbeloved for letting me pick your brain (now you have more context hehe) <3

words: ~2.2k

warnings/content: none really, just kind of fluffy / admitting feelings for each other, kissing

“Who can tell me what we’re brewing today?” 

Dozens of arms shot into the air, the students’ curious eyes trained upon the cauldron on your desk. You grinned, knowing the hints you had dropped in last week’s lesson had worked and your students were going to be engaged in today’s little experiment. 

“Yes, Bianca?”

“Amortentia. The world’s most powerful love potion.”

“You are correct.” Your grin grew wider. “Can anyone tell me what Amortentia does? Wednesday?”

“Amortentia causes a powerful infatuation to form for the person who drinks the potion. It smells different to each person, according to what most attracts them,” the raven-haired girl deadpanned.

“Someone clearly did her homework. Thank you, Wednesday. Now-” your lecture was interrupted by a loud knock.

The door to your classroom opened a crack and Larissa popped her head inside. “I’m sorry, my meeting just ended. Am I too late?” Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the stately blonde. 

“Not at all, we were just getting started. Class, Principal Weems will be joining us today. Bianca was right - Amortentia is the world’s most powerful love potion, which can make it quite dangerous, and we thought it best to have an extra adult to supervise you. Don’t let her presence phase you.”

You shot a teasing wink at your students and waved Larissa into the room. She stalked over to your desk, hips swaying, and somehow you knew it was you who would be phased by her presence, more so than any of the kids.

“Principal Weems,” you leaned back onto the desk, scooting closer to her until you were nearly thigh to thigh, deciding you were going to make the most of the rare occasion of having her in your classroom. “Do you think you could tell the class what ingredients we’ll need for our potion?”

Larissa raised a perfectly sculpted brow, ruby-red lips pursing at the challenge, icy gaze piercing yours. For a moment your pulse quickened, you worried you had overstepped. Then her lips quirked up in a soft smirk and she turned her head to address your students. 

“We will be needing rose petals, peppermint, moonstone and, most importantly, pearl dust.”

You shot her a grateful smile, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered when she returned that smile, and turned to the cauldron sitting on your desk where you had already neatly prepared all the ingredients. Normally you would have your students make their own batch of a potion, but you and Larissa had both agreed when coming up with your lesson plan that giving a bunch of horny teenagers the world’s strongest infatuation potion was a recipe for disaster.

Once you’d gotten a small flame burning under your cauldron, you turned back to your class, hyper-aware of the many pairs of eyes burning holes into your skull. Even Larissa was watching you with interest. 

“Come on guys, you aren’t normally this engaged in class,” you teased with a chuckle. “Now you can come up here - don’t push each other - just fill in the back there… perfect.” 

Once the kids were gathered around your desk and the cauldron was bubbling to your satisfaction, you began to add the ingredients, chatting to the class about the history of love potions. 

Every so often, you caught Larissa’s eye from across your desk and she gave you an encouraging nod, a soft smile. She seemed to be hanging onto your every word and it made your heart beat just a little faster than normal, though you couldn’t quite place why. 

You did have a bit of a crush on your boss but it was harmless, really. The two of you were good friends. You’d been working at Nevermore together for years now and had built up a friendly rapport, knowing you could trust each other with both workplace and personal matters. You frequently met up for coffee at the Weathervane and shared the occasional bottle of wine in her office to let out your frustrations about students and other staff. So what if you sometimes got lost in her cerulean eyes, or imagined what she looked like under her designer dresses? So what if you pictured yourself holding her hand in the hallways or taking her out to dinner? It was just a harmless crush.

The potion began to develop its characteristic mother-of-pearl sheen and your lips curled up in satisfaction. Spirals of steam rose from inside the cauldron and several students began to push forward, entranced, trying to get a whiff of the concoction.

“‘Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what most attracts them’,” you quoted Wednesday’s earlier words. “Anyone care to share what they smell?”

Tentative glances were shared between the students, many suddenly too timid to speak. It was Enid who raised her hand first.

“Yes, Enid?” You nodded at the young blonde, hoping you sounded soft and encouraging.

“I smell lavender... cool night air… and, um, Wednesday’s hand sanitizer.” A blush crept up her neck at the admission and Wednesday elbowed her girlfriend in the ribs, shooting daggers at her with wide eyes.

“Thank you for sharing, Enid,” you smiled reassuringly at the girl, honestly just grateful that someone had participated in your lesson.

“What do you smell, Ms. Y/L/N?” Wednesday looked up at you through dark lashes, her words an open challenge, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she tried to make you squirm. You rolled your eyes - you should have known this would happen.

“Ms. Addams, I hardly think it is appropriate-” Larissa began, but you interjected before she could finish.

“It’s alright, Principal Weems, what’s the harm in answering a simple question.” You shot her a playful wink and ignored her dangerous look.

You leaned over the potion, closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh as you took a deep breath, allowing the scent of the potion to wash over you.

“Mmm I smell… fresh laundry…” At first you smelled freshly washed sheets, one of your favorite scents, even since childhood. But then you smelled red wine. Cinnamon. Conditioner - but not your own. Your brows knit together in concentration. 

Who was it that you were smelling? You didn’t even really like red wine yourself. The gears in your mind turned as you racked your brain, you were sure the whole class could hear you think. Oh. Your stomach dropped.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” Enid’s voice shook you out of your reverie. Your eyes fluttered open and you swallowed thickly. You realized with a sinking feeling that your students had all borne witness to your internal struggle and were now watching your face flush in real time. The pit in your stomach grew when your eyes made contact with Larissa’s. Sapphire pools stared back at you in concern, brows furrowed in confusion. 

It was her. The smell. The occasional Friday night you shared in her office, strictly as coworkers, sipping red wine by the fire. Sitting close enough to smell her conditioner, her perfume, a sweet scent with notes of cinnamon that sometimes, in your tipsy state, made you wish you could bury your head in her neck and stay there forever. You were in love with Larissa Weems.

“You have a crush on someone.” You couldn’t help but glare at Wednesday, who grinned as if she had won a bet. Knowing her, maybe she had.

For the rest of the lesson, you pointedly avoided the gaze of a certain principal, who was watching you with curious eyes, unable to place your reaction at smelling the Amortentia.

When the bell rang, you were grateful to have a free period to collect your thoughts, and you ushered your students out of the classroom as quickly as you could. You shut the door behind the last one and clicked the lock, closing your eyes and leaning with your back against the door, letting out a frustrated groan.

“The world’s most powerful love potion,” Larissa’s voice made your eyes snap open and your heart drop into your stomach - you’d thought you were alone. The silver-haired woman was leaning over the cauldron, face partially obscured by wispy spirals of shimmering, pearl-colored steam.

“Well, technically, a true love potion doesn’t exist. Love can’t be artificially created. It would only cause a strong infatuation for the drinker.” You stepped forward to meet Larissa at the cauldron. This time, you immediately recognized the scent emanating from it, leaning in involuntarily. How could you not have known?

“That’s what makes it so dangerous,” Larissa’s eyes were focused on the bubbling of the potion as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, she seemed lost in thought. You came around to her side of the desk until the two of you stood shoulder to shoulder. As you stepped closer, you saw the loose wisps of Larissa’s silver curls coming out of her usually perfect updo, sticking to her forehead from the steam rising from the inside of the cauldron. Even so, she was perfect to you.

“What do you smell?” You whispered, nudging her playfully. You were playing with fire…

Larissa stole a glance at you, hesitating for a moment, then closed her eyes and sniffed at the swirls of steam rising from the cauldron. Her nose wrinkled lightly and it took everything in you to suppress the sigh of adoration threatening to bubble forth from your chest as you watched her, her eyelashes fluttering against the rosy apples of her cheeks, brows crinkling at the center in thought.

She hummed as the scent of the potion reached her nostrils. Freshly brewed coffee. Okay, so she was more of a hot chocolate drinker herself… The scent of burning herbs. Kind of reminded her of the potions classroom… A flowery perfume. Why did it smell so familiar? 

Larissa felt a heat rise in her cheeks as her brain connected the dots. She drew back, opening her eyes but refusing to meet your gaze, instead using her hands to steady herself on the desk in front of her. How had she not realized it before?

“Rissa?” You breathed, ducking your head in an attempt to get the taller woman to make eye contact with you. 

Your use of her nickname had the desired effect, but her eyes were filled with uncertainty and fear. 

You hoped this meant she had smelled you, just as you had smelled her. Your palms began to sweat, heat coiling in the pit of your stomach. An electricity buzzed in the air, pulling you almost magnetically towards the woman in front of you. You stepped towards her until you had to crane your neck back to look up at her face, your heart pounding erratically in your chest. 

Larissa’s pupils widened imperceptibly, her lips parted as she straightened to her full height, now towering over you. Her breath ghosted across your face as she leaned closer, stopping just short of your lips, hesitating as she hovered over you. Her tongue darted over her lower lip, eyes glassy and swirling with emotion as they flickered nervously between the both of yours. 

It was you who closed the distance. Your lips met, hesitantly at first. Larissa was still against you and, for a moment, you considered drawing back, now unsure whether the kiss was truly wanted. Just as you were about to pull away, you felt a strong hand grasp your waist, another thread in your hair as Larissa’s lips began to move against yours, soft and wanting.

A soft whimper escaped your throat, causing Larissa to hum in satisfaction and tighten her grip on you, pulling you flush against her. Your hands snaked around Larissa’s neck, raking your fingernails lightly along the skin at the nape of her neck, eliciting a low moan from her. 

When you parted, you were both panting. She dipped her neck down to press her forehead to yours and you enjoyed the feeling of her warm breath on your cheek.

You couldn’t help yourself - you let out a hearty chuckle, and Larissa shot you a quizzical glance, gently and almost instinctively running her thumb along your jaw.

“And to think you almost didn’t approve of brewing the Amortentia,” you grinned lazily, leaning into her touch.

A gorgeous blush bloomed over Larissa’s cheeks. “Yes, well, had I known this would happen, I would have approved it much sooner.”

“Sure,” you murmured, capturing Larissa’s lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Any other dangerous potions you’d like to try out, Ms. Y/L/N?” Larissa teased, backing you into the desk, regaining the upper hand. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Perhaps we could discuss this more, tonight over dinner?” You were hopeful.

Larissa’s smile was genuine when she hummed in delight. “7 pm sharp. Don’t keep me waiting.”

A final, bruising kiss was placed firmly on your lips, Larissa nipping slightly at your bottom lip and soothing it immediately with her tongue before pulling away. There was an extra sway in her hips as she sauntered out of your classroom, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you realized you’d just scored a first date with the woman of your dreams.