#but I really struggle more than I let on sometimes

[lavieenpasdedeux]

Come Over

Lando Norris x AFAB reader

When your neighbour catches you bringing someone else home, jealousy gets the better of him...

WC: 4k

Warnings: kind of toxic!Lando, choking, degradation, spanking, kind of mean and obsessive Lando, hurt feelings but a happy ending, PinV sex, oral

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁. ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ :. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ -˚̣⋅ .

Your relationship with Lando had always been purely physical. It started the day you moved into the building- two apartments per floor, a detail that had thrilled you with its promise of privacy and quiet. You were wrestling a stack of boxes down the hallway, sweat clinging to your back, when he appeared. Dressed in running gear, he looked like he was about to head out for a jog. But when he saw you struggling, your arms full and your boxes blocking his way, he saw the helpless, and slightly frustrated look on your face and he knew he had to stop and help. 

“Hello,” he said gently, not wanting to startle you. Still, you jumped slightly, caught off guard by the sudden presence of a stranger.

“Sorry! Am I in your way?” You laughed, awkward and breathless. You tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. He was, without exaggeration, one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen. Tall, lean, his dark hair curled perfectly, and his skin had the kind of golden tan that made you think he spent more time outside than in. But it was his hands that really caught your attention- broad palms, long fingers, strong and graceful.

Without hesitation, he bent and lifted one of your boxes like it weighed nothing. His biceps flexed beneath his fitted t-shirt, and you had to will yourself not to stare.

“Not at all,” he said with a soft smile. “Let me help.”

You didn’t argue. There was something in the way he moved- efficient, confident, like this sort of thing came naturally to him. By the time the last box was inside, you'd learned his name, how long he’d lived in the area, and that he ran every morning at nine. You thanked him, he smiled, and that was it until the next evening.

You had no choice. He was your last resort. You knocked on his door, apologising profusely for disturbing his evening. He insisted it was fine and asked you what you needed. “It’s just the bed,” you explained, a little embarrassed. “The parts are heavier than I thought. Definitely a two-person job.”

He jumped at the chance to help you, the glass of wine you promised him was definitely a motivator, and followed you into your apartment and through to your bedroom. 

You were entranced by him, you couldn’t stop staring. The way his hands moved, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with effortless control, it was addictive.He didn’t even break a sweat. Lifting, aligning, tightening bolts as though he’d done it a hundred times. He chuckled when you tried to help and couldn’t move a piece he handled with ease. You weren’t sure when exactly the mood shifted- somewhere between the moment your fingers brushed and the way his eyes lingered on yours a little too long. 

What followed wasn’t romantic- it didn’t need to be. It was heat, curiosity, and a kind of unspoken agreement that whatever this was, it wouldn’t be anything more. It was passion. It was a release. No expectations, no mess.

That’s how your ‘relationship’ remained for the coming months. Your arrangement with Lando was simple: no strings, no sleepovers, no expectations. 

-

-

You weren’t exclusive, you saw each other when you wanted to, when the mood hit- usually late, sometimes with just a text to see if he was around and still awake. A knock, a half-smile, and you'd tumble into each other's space like gravity had pulled you there. You never talked about it. You didn’t need to.

And it worked. For a while.

You still dated, occasionally. So did he. It had been an unspoken rule from the beginning, and you meant it. You weren’t each other’s person. Just each other’s escape. A fun way to spend an evening. 

So when you brought someone home one Friday night, it shouldn’t have mattered.

You hadn't seen Lando in a while, he’d told you he’d be away for work for the next couple weeks. You hadn’t even thought to ask when he’d be back. It shouldn’t matter to you. Besides, the guy you met at the bar was cute. He was funny and confident. Not as tall as Lando, not as sculpted, but charming in his own way. You didn’t think twice about letting him follow you back to your place.

You were laughing at something he said as you stepped out of the elevator, your hand brushing his arm. As you turned toward your door, you heard it- Lando’s door opening. Light spilled into the hallway. He was stopped in his tracks, watching as you turned around to say hi.

You froze. There was an expression on his face you couldn’t quite make out.

“Busy night?” he asked, voice calm but cool, too casual to be casual.

Your date glanced at him, then back at you, eyebrows lifting in question.

You gave Lando a tight smile. “Yeah. Just got back.”

His eyes never left yours. “Well. I hope the rest of your evening is…” his eyes shifted to your date briefly before meeting your gaze again “satisfying.”

You didn’t respond. You turned your key, ushered your date inside, and shut the door. But your heart was beating faster than it should’ve been.

The night didn’t go how you planned. Your date was nice and all- but he didn't satisfy you. Every time he touched you, your mind kept drifting to Lando. Every time he touched you, you thought of Lando’s hands. Every time he spoke, you heard Lando’s voice in your head, low and close.  You were also acutely aware of your phone buzzing every so often, more than it usually did at this time of night. You tried to shake it, to focus, but it was no use. Something just wasn’t right. 

Eventually, your date picked up on the shift in the room. The way you kept glancing toward your phone. The way your responses had grown shorter, more distracted. He wasn’t dumb- he knew when he was losing someone’s attention. He got dressed in silence, offering a polite smile as he stood by the door. “Hey, no hard feelings,” he said, genuine but already distant. “You’ve clearly got something else going on. Or someone.”

You didn’t argue. Just gave him a quiet thank you and shut the door behind him.

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should’ve.

You crossed the room, picked up your phone from the nightstand. Eight notifications. All from Lando, of course. 

10:03 PM: Really? You went for that guy?

10:14 PM: You serious with this??

10:30 PM: Make him leave soon. He doesn’t know what to do with you.

10:36 PM: I'm serious, I'll come over there if I have to.

10:52 PM: Does he even know how to touch you right? 

11:07 PM: Nobody knows your body like I do. He won’t be better.

11:20 PM: He can’t make you cum like I do. You know it.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The last message had been sent just twenty minutes ago.

Come over.

You could laugh at how many times he'd texted you and how annoyed he seemed, but you were just nervous. Was he actually this jealous or was this all just a game? A way to get you in his bed? 

You stared at the screen, heart thudding. Every part of you knew this was a bad idea. That you shouldn’t encourage his jealousy, shouldn’t let him reel you back in so easily. But then again, you remembered the way it felt with him. The heat. The power. The way he fucked you like he owned your body- and how you let him. How you wanted him to.

Your fingers hovered over your screen for a second longer, you were debating sending a reply but decided against it. You headed to your bathroom, freshening up and checking your appearance before heading across the hall. His door was already cracked open, he knew you’d come. You hesitated for a second- just long enough to pretend you had a choice- then pushed it open.

He was standing in the middle of his living room, a storm written across his face. He didn’t move when you entered. He didn’t say anything.

The door clicked shut behind you.

“I saw your messages,” you said quietly, folding your arms like it could shield you from the heat building in your chest at the sight of him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Figured you would. Thought maybe you’d ignore them.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And yet you kept sending them.”

Lando’s jaw tightened. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you- with him.” He took a step closer. “About the fact that some guy who doesn't even know how to handle you got to touch what’s mine.”

Your heart kicked at that word. “I’m not yours, Lando. That’s not how we said this works, remember?”

He laughed, but it was sharp and humourless. “Yeah. I remember. No strings. No expectations. Just sex, right?” He moved closer, eyes locked on yours. “Except now I can’t stop picturing him in your bed. Did he even know what to do with you? Did he make you come, or did he just fuck around until you faked it to get it over with?”

Your breath hitched.

He was close enough now that you could smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“I didn’t fake anything,” you said, voice low. “But he didn’t make me cum either.”

Lando’s gaze darkened, and he stepped into your space until there was hardly any space between you. You could feel his cool breath hit your skin.

“Didn’t think so,” he muttered. “Because you only ever fall apart for me.”

You should’ve walked away. Should’ve pushed him back, reminded him of the rules. But your body betrayed you- leaning in, drawn to the fire you’d been trying to smother all night.

“Say it,” he whispered, voice rough now. “Say I’m better.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re better.”

He didn’t kiss you right away. He just looked at you- like he needed to burn this moment into memory. Like he was making sure you meant it.

Then his hands were on your waist, pulling you in like gravity had snapped back into place. And just like every time before, everything else disappeared.

No rules. No boundaries. Just him.

He kissed you with all the anger and the passion that had been building up through the night. His grip on your waist tightened as his tongue slipped past your lips, making you gasp.

“You’re mine. You have to be.” You could feel his smirk against your lip.

He quickly pulled away, barely leaving you time to catch your breath before his strong arms slid beneath your thighs, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. 

“Lando-” you started, but you were cut off by the look in his eyes. It was hungry and passionate, but burning with something deeper than just lust. 

His lips met yours again, but softer this time- his lips moving slowly as he began carrying you to his room. 

“I need you. I missed you too fucking bad baby.” his voice was rough and strained in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt your stomach flutter as he carried you through the apartment, every step echoing with purpose. You didn’t want to admit it, but only Lando could make you feel this way. Only he could build tension in the most delicious way- the air around you both felt charged and thick with passion. 

He nudged the door to his room open with his foot, stepping inside. His room was cosy- the warm glow of the lamp and the plush white bedspread was something you always appreciated when you came here. 

You heard the soft click of the door as it closed behind you, the two of you locking eyes briefly. 

As if this set something off inside him, Lando spun you both around- pinning you against the wall. Your heart began racing, breath caught in your throat as you felt his body pressed against yours. His weight was comforting, and you knew he was right. He was better, and you couldn’t go this long without him ever again. 

His lips crashed onto yours. There was no gentleness left, just urgent desire. He couldn’t get enough of you, his hands roaming your body- gripping your hips and pulling you impossibly closer. 

His lips left yours, travelling down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. Every inch of you burned with need, the flutters in your stomach getting stronger and stronger by the second. His hands slid under your shirt, fingertips grazing the skin of your waist. His hands slid higher and higher towards your breasts. When he found you weren’t wearing a bra, a low moan left his throat. “You’re going to drive me crazy, baby” he chuckled, pinching your nipple harshly whilst his teeth sucked a hickey into your neck. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your skin as you moaned at the feeling. 

“You’re too perfect, darling” Lando muttered, his voice and eyes laced with longing as his lips returned to yours, kissing you softly again. It quickly turned fierce, leaving you breathless as his tongue explored your mouth. He wanted to mark every part of you, make you feel the weight of his desire. 

His lips parted from yours and he lowered you to the ground. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes dark and intense. 

“Tell me you missed me.” he breathed, his voice low and raw. His hands were still on your body, one hand softly gripping your waist while the other was on the back of your neck. 

You tilted your head back slightly, locking eyes with him. Your hands went to his hair as you pressed your lips against his. 

“I missed you.” your voice was quiet, but genuine. “More than you know.”

He smiled down at you.

“I missed you too baby.” He was kind, but his eyes lit up with mischief. “In fact, take off your clothes for me. Let me show you how much I missed you.”

You did as he asked, your desperation for him taking over. You quickly stripped down to nothing, heading over to his bed and laying in the middle- propping yourself up on your elbows. 

Lando was looking at you with hungry eyes, slowly taking off his shirt as he walked towards you. He stood at the foot of his bed, admiring your body laid out for him. His hands reached out to caress your ankles, his fingertips light. Then, without warning, he gripped your ankles tightly and pulled your body down the bed. He chuckled at your gasp of surprise.

He sank down to his knees, his fingers gripping your thighs as he placed your legs over his shoulders. You could feel his breathing get heavier as he saw how wet you already were for him. 

“God, your fuckin’ pussy’s gonna be the death of me baby.” he whispered, almost as if it was to himself. 

He dove right in with no hesitation, his pace almost punishing. His tongue moved with expert precision, licking at your folds and sucking your clit. You couldn’t hold back your moans at the way he worked his tongue- he always managed to drive you crazy and he knew it. 

As your legs tightened around his head and your moans got louder and more desperate, Lando took his tongue away. You whined at the loss, but Lando cut you off. His voice was deep and gravelly. “Look at me.” he commanded. You sat up, propping yourself on your elbows to make eye contact with him. “Who owns you?” His voice was firm, his grip on your legs harsh as he continued to look at you with dark eyes.

He brought a finger up to your dripping hole, teasing you while he waited for an answer. “You. You Lando, please” you begged, needing to feel him inside you. 

“Yeah? You ever going to let anyone else touch this pussy again? Touch what’s mine?” Lando slid the tip of his finger into you and placed a quick kiss to your clit, giving you a taste of what he knew you needed. 

“No I- Only you Lando. I promise” He chuckled at the desperation in your voice, but rewarded you by sliding his whole finger into your aching pussy. 

“Good girl.” he said lowly, before bringing his tongue back to your cunt. His tongue was sharp and pointed, circling your clit in a way that sent sparks flying through your body. He tipped you over the edge when he slid a second finger into you, curling them to stroke your g spot. Your orgasm crashed over you, your thighs quivering and your moans turning into screams of pleasure as Lando continued to lick at you as you came. 

You barely had time to recover before Lando rose to his feet, leaning forwards to grab your hips and flip you over. He pulled your hips up so your ass was up in the air. His fingers grabbed your ass, groping and squeezing until..

Smack

It almost knocked the air out of you, the harsh smack to your left asscheek making your hips shoot forward- Lando’s other hand coming to grip your waist to keep you in place. 

“That’s for fucking other men.” His voice was as harsh as his hand, his words clear and powerful. 

He hit you again, a broken moan leaving your mouth.

“That’s for forgetting who you fucking belong to.”

Again. He hit your other cheek twice, you moaned louder, almost shouting.

“And that’s for being a fucking slut, baby.” His hands gripped your skin, only heightening the pain. “Why would you whore yourself out for other men when you could have me.” 

He smacked you again. The filth of his words should have offended you, but instead your cunt was dripping for him. 

“Tell me again, love. Who owns you?” 

“You! Always you, Lando please!” you begged, your voice cracking as you tried to hold back a moan. Lando had never been like this before with you. Something had truly snapped in him, something in him needed to make you his.

“That’s right, baby. Don’t you fucking forget it.” He punctuated this with another harsh slap to your ass.

His hands left your body, moving to take his trousers off. He was quick, and as soon as you caught your breath you felt the tip of his cock pushing against your dripping hole.

“You ready, baby?” he breathed, hands gripping your waist. 

“Please!” you begged again, pushing your hips back into him. 

Lando pushed into you, hard and quick. Not leaving you time to get used to the stretch, he set a punishing pace. You felt him against your cervix as he thrusted deep inside you. 

Your head dropped down, hands gripping the sheets as you moaned from the intense pleasure, but Lando didn’t allow this. His hand left your waist to grip your hair, pulling your head back- making your back arch. He lent down to speak into your ear, his hand leaving your hair to grip your throat as he spoke. 

“You’re always so fucking tight for me. I’m gonna fill your fucking pussy up. Make sure you never forget about me again.” 

He fucked you even harder and faster, his grip around your throat tightening more. You let out a broken moan, so overwhelmed with all the different sensations. 

Your walls began to clench around him, your orgasm quickly approaching, but Lando pulled out. 

You could’ve screamed from frustration, having your orgasm ripped away from you like that.

Lando gripped your hips again, flipping you over onto your back. He smirked down at your frustrated expression, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he climbed onto the bed to be on top of you. 

“I need to see you. Need to watch you cum for me.” he said quietly, sinking his cock into you agonisingly slowly. “But not until I fucking tell you to, yeah?”

He began to fuck you again, slow and hard. Each thrust knocked the air from your lungs, his cock so thick and long it felt as though he was splitting you open. 

His pace got quicker and quicker, and your nails scratched at his back. Your cunt clenched around him again when a deep, guttural moan escaped his throat when your nails sank into his skin, your other hand gripping his hair. 

His thrusts grew sloppier, and he could feel your walls flutter around him.

“Cum for me. Soak my fucking cock, baby, that’s a good girl.” 

You could barely hear his words over your own voice, screaming his name as your orgasm hit you. He wasn’t far behind, pumping you full of his cum. 

His body collapsed on top of yours, the two of you damp with sweat and breathing heavily as you came down from your highs. 

You expected Lando to embrace you, but instead he pulled out and climbed off the bed- heading straight to the en-suite and closing the door behind him. Leaving you in stunned silence in his bed.

-

-

You lay tangled in his sheets, your body still humming, your breath slowly evening out. The tension was still palpable in the room.

Lando sat at the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. He hadn’t said a word since it ended.

You pulled the blanket around your chest, suddenly aware of how exposed you felt, more from the silence than your naked skin.

“So, that’s how we’re doing this now?” you asked quietly. “You get jealous, send a bunch of angry texts, fuck me like you hate me and then go mute afterwards?”

He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes clouded with emotion. “What do you want me to say?”

You hesitated. You weren’t sure what you wanted to hear. Maybe that this wasn’t just physical anymore. That it hadn’t been for a while. Maybe that you own him just as much as he owns you. That he felt about you the same things you felt about him. But, saying any of that felt like breaking the deal you’d both silently signed off on.

You looked away. “I don’t… it doesn’t matter.” you mumbled.

“No,” he said, turning fully now. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down just because I don’t know how to say the right thing.”

You blinked at him. “Then try.”

He let out a long breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect to care,” he said finally. “About any of it. About you. It was supposed to be simple. No pressure, no risk.”

You nodded slowly, voice barely above a whisper. “And now?”

His eyes met yours, full of fear and honesty.

“Now it scares the shit out of me.”

The silence between you stretched again, but this time it felt different. You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, unsure what to do with the truth sitting between you.

“We’re not good at this,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No,” Lando admitted. “We’re really not.”

You both laughed-  the tension broken just enough to breathe again.

He shifted back onto the bed, lying beside you. He lifted his arm in a silent invitation for you to lay on his chest. 

“Let me take you on a date. A proper date.” He sounded anxious, worried you’d turn him down.

“I’d love that.” You smiled, and he could hear it in your soft voice. 

There’s a lot Lando wanted to tell you. A lot of feelings he had that he didn’t have the words for. All he knew was he needed to know you. Everything about you. He needed you to be his forever. In truth, he knew that it was you that owned him. You that never left his mind, that he thought of even when he was 1,000 miles away. It was you that truly made him happy.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁. ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ :. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ -˚̣⋅ .

A/N: Hi!!! Sorry this is kind of terrible, I've been so busy with exams and essays but i wanted to get this out asap.

[harrington-stevie]

soft place to land | S.H.

Summary: You're his soft place. You're the one he turns to when things get difficult, the one who cleans him up when he gets into a fight. He's the broken guy who carries scars because of his problematic parents, but you are there to help keep him calm.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

Word count: 9.6k

Steve always knew when he was going to snap. It started with a simmering heat blooming in his chest. His ears would start ringing and his knuckles always became white from balling his fists too tight.

Most people assumed he was the cool, caring, loving guy. The one with the hair, the silly jokes and the effortless confidence. But behind those hazel eyes, there was a raging feeling that boiled his blood every time he had to hear his father talking shit about him straight to his face. And sometimes it only worsened when Jason Carver stopped by Family Video only to try and pick a fight. Because he knew Steve had a short temper.

But that wasn't always the real him, not really. And you knew that. Robin knew that too. But with you– it was different with you. He felt better when he was near you. He felt like himself most of the time.

Even though you were inside the convenience store with Robin and Eddie, he still lurched forward and punched Jason in the face, hitting his jawline. The jock moved backward and quickly jabbed at Steve's cheekbone.

His fists were still red when you saw him outside the old gas station, with his knuckles scabbed and a smudge of blood across his cheekbone. He was panting, there was a trace of dried tear that trailed his cheek. You crouched beside him, one hand on top of his shoulder, the other one carefully cradling his face to scan the injury.

Your heart shrunk at the sight of his trembling hands, at the way he was trying to avoid eye contact, because he knew he was supposed to get his shit together and he just couldn't. You gently brushed away the hair that was sticking to his forehead.

“Jason?” You asked in a low tone, and he let out a dry, bitter laugh. His teeth were pink with blood.

“Jason.”

You took a deep breath as you helped him up and leaned against the hood of his car, waiting for Robin and Eddie. They didn’t ask what happened but exchanged a knowing look with him before getting into the car in complete silence. You went back inside, grabbed some toilet paper, and moistened it to clean his face. It wasn't the most sanitary option, but it was enough to remove the smeared blood from his skin.

He winced at the touch, so you tried to avoid putting too much pressure on it. One hand supported his chin while you gently dabbed his cheek. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was in pain. Unable to meet your gaze, he felt ashamed of what had happened. Steve was reluctant to admit that he still struggled with controlling his anger, but you always assured him that you were there for him.

“I'm sorry” He rasped, his voice could barely be heard. His eyes were still roaming around a blank spot, avoiding you.

“Hey” You say, your fingers delicately lifting his head to face you “Don't do that. You know I'm always here.”

He tried to look away, but you ensured he looked at you.

“Yeah, but that's not who I want to be. That asshole keeps bringing up my parents all the fucking time.”

“I know, and he's a loser for that. But you need to remember that this is what he wants.”

His hazel eyes kept following yours, searching for comfort. Steve always found solace in you. He gave you a small smile and leaned into your touch. One of his hands found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before he went back to his car.

At Robin's, you cleaned his injuries and took care of them. As you always did, whenever it happened. A few times it would be his best friend when you couldn't be there to help. You set the cloth down and reached for the first aid kit under the sink, one you had used more than once on him over the years. Cuts, bruises, swollen jaws– all pieces of Steve that his parents never noticed or cared enough to ask about.

“You ever gonna stop throwing yourself into fights for an asshole?” You asked lightly, squeezing ointment onto your fingers.

“Probably not” He said, shrugging “Not if it means they get away with saying crap like that.”

Your fingers were soft when they touched the corner of his lip, cleaning off dried blood with a tenderness that made Steve's chest ache. He hated how his voice sounded too quiet in these moments. He didn't want to feel vulnerable.

“Does it scare you? When I get like this?”

You blinked, surprised by the question, feeling your hands still for a moment.

“No, it never has. Because you don’t get like this with me.”

Steve met your eyes without fear this time, seeing a curve on your lips.

It wasn’t a romantic moment. Not yet, but it was the kind of moment that found its place in the silence between the two of you. It felt quiet and raw, as if it were etched in the space separating you both. All he wanted was to hug you and hold on for just a moment.

You returned to cleaning him up, brushing your thumb along the edge of his jaw where a bruise had started to form.

“You’ve gotta stop letting your parents’ voices live in your head. They don’t get to take up space in there forever” Your voice was tender, and it echoed in his head.

Steve’s throat tightened, but he nodded. He didn’t say thank you, he actually never did. Not because he wasn’t grateful, but because he didn’t know how to say it in a way that would do justice to you. Instead, he let you patch him up in silence. And you did. Carefully, as if it mattered.

Later that night, after you had fallen asleep next to Robin and Steve was lying awake in her guest bedroom, staring at the ceiling, he thought about how you had looked at him. You weren't afraid; you never were. It was as if he wasn't a wreckage you had grown accustomed to cleaning up. He thought maybe he’d tell you one day; not in the middle of a fight or after another busted lip, but on a regular, nothing-special day. He would tell you that he noticed, that he always did. No one else had ever made him feel less of a mess just by being there.

But for now, he let the silence settle, let you stay asleep, safe from everything, even from the worst parts of himself. For once, Steve Harrington didn’t feel like he was on the verge of breaking down. He just felt... intact.

Because of you. Because you always appeared when he was falling apart. And because, little by little, he was learning that maybe he didn’t have to break alone anymore.

He looks at you differently when he thinks no one’s watching. It’s neither dramatic nor obvious. He doesn’t linger like some guy in a teen movie, nor does he stare enough for it to get awkward. But in those quiet moments, or when you’re laughing with Dustin at the arcade, chatting with Robin behind the Family Video counter, or even just standing beside him in line at the gas station. His eyes find you like a magnet.

For example, you tuck your hair behind your ear without realizing it, or when you chew your lip while scanning the back of a VHS case. You don’t notice, but he does. Always. His gaze is soft, warm, and almost worshipping. Not because he’s trying to memorize you. He already knows you.

He just likes seeing you be… you.

He’s the only one who notices the small things. How you always tap the rim of your coffee cup twice - only ever with your left hand - before taking a sip. Or how you can’t stand milk in your coffee but still add exactly half a spoonful of sugar. Just enough to get the bitter taste off of it.

He never asked about those things. He just remembered. So every time he hands you a cup after school or during a shift at the video store, it’s perfect. You raised a brow at him the first few times, narrowing your eyes like you were trying to catch him off guard.

“Steve” You would say suspiciously and amused “How do you keep getting it exactly right?”

He’d just shrug, with a crooked smile “Magic. Or maybe I’m just very observant.”

You started calling it the “Steve Standard", almost playfully. But you always smiled when he handed it to you. To Steve, that smile felt like sunshine. Unbeknownst to you, he saw you as a safe haven during his difficult moments. And maybe, just maybe, he was becoming the same thing for you. There was something about sitting beside him when he broke down that created a special bond.

You never tried to pry, never forced words from him. You just sat there, too close to him, reaching out a hand for him. Sometimes you handed him a drink, sometimes you played with the edge of your sleeve until he could look you in the eye again. When his anger exploded, quick and hot as it always did, you never flinched. You weren’t afraid of him. You knew it wasn’t about you. And you never treated him like a broken person. You just… stayed.

Every single time.

And that's what made him so captivated by you. Not just because of that, but the entirety of it. He just wished he wasn't misreading the whole situation.

He was driving you home, throwing glances at you from the corner of his eyes, watching the way you would draw circles on your jeans. His hands tightened around the wheel, he urged to reach over and take your hand so bad that it hurt. But he didn't, not yet. Maybe it wasn't the right time for that yet. Because whatever this was. it wasn’t some high school infatuation anymore. Not after everything.

Then there was that night he called you. You could hear it in his voice before he even said a word: something was wrong. So you grabbed a movie, a six-pack of root beer, and showed up without asking. You sat on the floor together, your backs against the couch. The movie played, but neither of you really watched. He cried quietly, his shoulders shook. He was angry and ashamed. He told you about his dad’s latest blow-up that made him feel humiliated. How he had looked his son in the eye before slamming the door and muttering “no wonder everyone leaves you.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just pressed your hand flat against his chest, showing you could hold all the broken pieces together.

“I'm still here” You promised him. And he kept sobbing, his head resting on your shoulder.

Your hands played with his hair. His hands held your back tightly, as if he was about to break anymore than he already had.

“Thank you, Angel. I love you.”

He loved calling you Angel. More importantly, he loves you more than he could admit.

He remembers that moment more than anything. Maybe more than he should. On a Saturday morning, you walk into Family Video smiling, your hair all disheveled from the wind. He feels like someone just punched him gently in the chest. That’s what you do to him. You ruin him in the most careful way. Sometimes, he imagines telling you everything. Just blurting it out like an idiot.

You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m not ruined.

But it always feels too much. Too soon. So instead, he memorizes the sound of your laugh. How your voice softens when you’re tired. The crease between your brows when you’re trying to finish a crossword puzzle. How you always reach for his hand when you’re crossing a busy street, even if neither of you ever acknowledges it.

He holds onto those things like a lifeline.

Because with you, it’s never been about impressive gestures. It’s about the late-night drives, the playlists you build together, the quiet understanding in your gaze when he lies and says he's fine. Even though you know he's the farthest from being fine. You treat his silence, in a way that it’s a sacred matter. Not something to fix. He doesn't need fixing, he needs reassurance, he deserves to know no one is going to leave him just as his parents make it look like that's the truth.

He knows deep down that he’ll never be the same after you. Even if he’s not ready to say it out loud yet, he knows it in his bones: you are the only person in his life who makes him want to be better. Not to prove something. Just to be worthy of the space you’ve opened for him in your world. You are the calm after his storm. And he’s learning, even if slowly, quietly and patiently how to be still in it.

You love snapping pictures whenever you hang out with everyone. They always make funny faces and strike poses to get the best of it. Most importantly, you love capturing Steve and memorizing every moment. He doesn't even complain, he just leans into it. He likes it when you take pictures of him.

You're in the parking lot of the gas station just outside Hawkins, the golden sunrays cast highlights in his hair, his sunkissed freckles glow. Steve’s leaning against the driver’s side door of his car, his hair perfectly brushed, almost as if he knew what was about to come.

You lift the camera, and he doesn’t even need direction. He crosses his arms on top of the car and leans his chin against them, as if he knows exactly what kind of picture you’re trying to take.

“You always get this look in your eye. Like you’re gonna steal my soul with that thing” He says before you find the best angle.

You snap the photo.

“Too late” You murmur with a smirk, and he flushes red under the fading sun.

He keeps a shoebox in the bottom drawer of his dresser. There are dozens of Polaroids in there. Him, blurry in motion at the arcade. Him shirtless, cooking eggs, flipping you off playfully with a spatula. Him holding up a kitten you found near the lake. Him asleep in your passenger seat, mouth open, lashes curled ridiculously long. And in one corner of the box: a photo of you holding the camera. You’re not even looking at it– you’re smiling at him instead.

It's the one he chooses one night to put on his fridge along with many others of you and his friends. When he's sitting alone in the kitchen and catches a glance of the picture, a smile tugs at his lips.

You never meant to memorize him. It just kind of… happened. Somewhere between the first time you cleaned up his busted lip and the third time he made your coffee exactly right without asking, you realized you knew him in ways that didn’t make sense to anyone else. How he only faked a smile when his parents were around. Or how he’d crack a joke and change the topic whenever someone mentioned their families, always playing up the “only child” thing like it was a joke instead of a wound.

He never talked about them. He didn’t have to, and you just paid attention. And apparently, you weren’t the only one. It started one night at Nancy’s. She had this idea for a “normal night” for once- without the Upside Down, no monsters, no trauma bonding. Just junk food, dumb movies, and way too many people packed into one house.

Robin. Eddie. Steve. Dustin. Lucas. Mike. Nancy. Jonathan… and you. You came late, work had you stuck there until past ten, and by the time you got there, someone had already claimed the best spot on the couch. You ended up near Steve on the floor, your legs stretched under a shared blanket, a bowl of popcorn balanced randomly between you.

“Hey,” He said as you settled down beside him. His eyes flicked over you, soft and familiar, his voice was like honey “Wasn’t sure you’d come.”

You smiled, nudging his knee with yours “Miss movie night with you guys? Not a chance.”

And just like that, his shoulders dropped. The tension melted from him like ice under the sun. That’s the thing with him: he carries tension as if it’s a burden. But when you show up, he always lets some of it go, as though maybe you’re a reason to breathe again. By the second movie, someone turned off the lights completely. The room faded into that sleepy kind of chaos that only happens around 2 a.m. Half the group passed out in random positions, the rest whispering or hardly watching the screen from under heavy eyelids. You were curled on your side, barely watching the TV with one arm under your head, when you felt Steve shift behind you.

This wasn’t just a dream.

At first, it was nothing. There was a kick on the blanket and a heavy exhale. Then something deeper filled the air. A low, broken sound escaped from his throat, a mumble between a breath and a word, and your whole body tensed. You turned toward him slowly, his face was strained in sleep, his jaw clenched, his hands fisting the blanket like he was bracing for something.

You knew that look. You had seen it once when he fell asleep on your couch after a fight, after a night where he had almost gotten slammed into concrete again and came home bleeding. You had heard the way he whispered “don’t go” in a pleading tone.

You sat up on your elbows, reaching out to him “Steve.”

You whispered gently, fingers brushing his forearm “Hey. You’re dreaming.”

He flinched hard, his whole body became rigid, his breath was ragged and he kept mumbling under it.

“No, no, get off me—” He muttered with a cracked voice “Please…”

You pressed your palm flat to his chest, right over his heart, as you always did when he spiraled. One hand went right up to his face, your fingers gently cradling him “Steve. It’s me. You’re okay. You’re here, with me.”

His eyes snapped open as if he had been yanked from another reality. They seemed wild and barely focused, his hands latched onto your wrist instinctively.

“It’s okay, It’s just me” You whispered, both hands holding his face forcing him to look at you.

He blinked. Once, twice. His breathing slowed gradually, your voice was an anchor to him. He stared at you as though he wasn’t sure how he got there, like you were the only thing that looked real. Robin stirred across the room, voice groggy but alert.

“Is he okay?”

You glanced up and gave her a small nod “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

She rubbed her eyes, watching you for a moment longer. Then her expression changed and her gaze flickered, just realizing what it really was. She knew that look as well, but she didn’t say anything, just lay back down and rolled over.

Steve was still staring at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts, trapped in his own mind. He was still heaving from the nightmare.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out” He muttered, letting out a quiet, but dry huff.

“You didn’t,” You say softly, brushing your thumb in a slow circle over his sticky cheek “You never do.”

He turned his head toward you, his eyes were bloodshot, his brow creased, almost as if he was embarrassed to be seen this way.

“I hate that you see me like this” He admits with a bitter tone, his voice low and hoarse.

“I don’t. I see you, Steve. Not the nightmare version. Not the one who flinches in his sleep. Just… you” You nod, meeting his gaze without flinching.

He swallows hard, trying to get rid of the lump stuck in his throat “You always show up. Even when I don’t deserve it.”

He always feels you’re about to disappear every time he has a nightmare, or when he snaps. Because he thinks you’re worth something better, not a broken man with problematic parents and a short temper. But you’re always there for him, and he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to keep you around.

“You don’t have to deserve me. That’s not how this works.”

He looked at you and felt something shake inside his chest. He felt it fluttering, his face burned and his fingertips keep tingling.

“Why? Why do you care so much?”

You didn’t look away, your thumb kept pressing his skin “Because you’re worth caring about.”

For a long second, neither of you moved. Then, slowly, tentatively, his hand reached under the blanket and brushed against yours. It felt like a jolt of electricity running through his veins. It was enough to say ‘I’m still here if you want me’. You didn’t pull away. You laced your fingers with his. And even in the dark, you saw how his whole body softened. As if your hand was the only proof he needed that he was safe.

The next morning, Robin handed you a coffee mug- black, just the way you liked it, and raised an eyebrow.

“You know... If you guys are gonna keep pretending you’re just friends, you should at least be a little less obvious about it” She said casually and you almost choked on your coffee.

You blinked a few times at her “What?”

She smirked, sipping her coffee as if it wasn’t a big deal. “He looks at you like you hung the stars for him. And you touch him in a way that he’ll fall apart if you don’t.”

Your mouth opened and closed, but you had nothing to say.

She shrugged, nonchalant “For what it’s worth… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look more like himself than when he’s around you.”

And honestly? You felt that too. That night stayed with you, it etched inside you. Not because of the nightmare, or because he reached for you. But because when the worst parts of him showed up, when the ghosts came creeping in, he let you be there. He let you stay. And maybe he wasn’t ready to say the words yet. But he didn’t have to.

Because he reached for you in the dark, and you didn’t let go of him.

He’s up not long after you, but he misses the company. He misses your warmth, and he holds his breath for a second before closing his eyes for a moment, trying to memorize your touch. You’re sitting with Dustin and Mike outside, you’re sharing the huge wooden swing as they talk about nerd stuff. He likes to see the way you try to understand whatever they say, the way you always crack up when Dustin gets too loud or too excited about something.

He sits beside you and stirs you when his arm brushes against yours. You immediately glance at him with a soft smile and it melts him completely.

“Hey” You murmur.

He offers you a small, tired smile “Hey.”

There’s something different about him in the daylight. He’s always been handsome, sure, but like this? His hair is tousled, eyelids heavy, mouth tugging at the corners in a way that doesn’t feel performative? Like this, he’s soft, and it feels domestic. And it almost makes you dizzy.

“You okay?” You ask, brushing your thumb along his knuckles, casually, but intentional.

Steve nods slowly, then sighs.

“Didn’t think I’d fall apart in front of everyone. Guess that’s a new record” He says quietly, almost as if he’s too ashamed of his friends hearing him.

They're deep in the conversation, but you get up from the swing and walk with him to the other one a few feet away.

You shake your head “You didn’t fall apart.”

His eyes flick toward you, and there’s bitterness in his voice “Felt like it.”

“You were sleeping, having a nightmare. That’s not a weakness, Steve...”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifts onto his side so he can look at you fully. His hand slips and rests on your wrist, thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point.

“I just–” He stops and his lips tightens “When I woke up and you were there... It grounded me. Like I didn’t have to explain anything. You just... knew.”

You swallow. Something fragile catches in your chest.

“That’s kind of the point. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I get it, I get you.”

His thumb keeps tracing your wrist in slow, distracted circles. His mind does that funny thing again. The action of just looking at you short-circuits his brain.

“I used to dream about my dad throwing punches. Not even at me, just at walls. At air. But the sound...”

He clenches his jaw as he cuts himself off. He doesn’t like the feeling of seeing his father punching anything, or someone. Because one of these days, if he talks back, he knows it’s going to be him.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers again.

“I’m sorry” You whisper.

He shakes his head and huffs a laugh “It’s not your fault.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t hate that it happened.”

Steve stares at your hands, at his fingers brushing your delicate skin, in a way that he’s memorizing the way your fingers fit between his.

“I don’t talk about this stuff... Not with Robin, not even with Nancy, back then.”

You nod “I know.”

“But with you... With you, it’s different. Feels different” He exhales slowly, he feels something building up in his chest and he feels it burning.

You wait, you don’t fill the silence. You let him find the words.

“I’ve never had someone see me like this and stay. You never run, you never flinch, you never retreat. You just… stay.”

You can feel his pulse in your palm. It’s fast and uneven, and you feel your own pulse reciprocating the feeling.

“Of course I stay, Stevie.”

You bring your hand up to his face, your thumb stroking his skin as he leans into the touch, as he always does. He lifts your other hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart.

“You make me feel safe” He says it so softly that it’s barely audible.

You’re not sure what to say to that, not right away. Because in all the time you’ve known Steve Harrington, he’s always been the protector, the shield. The one who throws himself in front of danger first and worries about his own bruises later. But this? Letting you hold the softest, most breakable parts of him? This is something else entirely, this is him showing you his most vulnerable side without feeling embarrassed for doing it.

You lean forward, resting your forehead lightly against his.

“You’re safe with me. Always.”

He closes his eyes, and breathes you in. He takes in your words, and hopes to God you stay safe as well. And even though he doesn’t say it out loud, you know what he means when he squeezes your hand a little tighter. You know what lives in the spaces between the words.

He’s trying to say: Thank you. He’s trying to say: You mean more to me than I know how to admit. He’s trying to say: I think I’m falling for you. His heart skips a beat when you call him Stevie, his stomach ties to a knot and his knees wobble. It’s not much different when it’s him calling you Angel, because that’s how he sees you. You’re not only like an anchor to him, grounding him, you’re also an angel who protects him and makes him feel safer.

And you’re already there.

Steve has always been overprotective, especially when it came to you. He likes to say he’s your lucky charm while you’re his angel. Eddie often grimaces when he hears the way Steve talks about you to him. As the closest thing to a brother for each other, both Steve and Eddie are very cautious with one another after everything that happened in the Upside Down. You’re their sweet little treasure. Since you weren’t with them during those events, they want to make sure you stay safe.

You’re at The Hideout with Robin, watching as Steve and Eddie perform together for the third time. Although Eddie has his own band, he enjoys doing gigs with his best friend every once in a while. You’re sitting in a booth with Robin, sipping your drinks and whispering to each other during their break. Suddenly, someone approaches and leans against your table.

The man isn’t old; he looks to be in his 40s. His hand rests on the table, fingers tapping the surface, while his other hand holds a glass of whiskey. He attempts to make contact, trying to grab your attention. When he lifts his hand to hold yours, you instinctively pull it back. Robin immediately turns her head to glare at him, her elbows resting on the table.

“I’m sorry, but we’re not interested” She says confidently, which is the opposite of how you're feeling.

He grins, takes a drink, and clicks his tongue “I was just about to talk to the other lady.”

Robin scoffs and wraps an arm around your shoulders “She’s not interested.”

“You heard my friend, she’s not interested.” His voice cuts in deep and sharp. You didn’t even have to guess to know who it was.

You and Robin look up and meet Steve holding his waist. God, it’s almost as if you knew what was about to happen. You couldn’t handle another bar fight. You didn’t want to clean his injuries and patch him up again. You have been doing your best to keep him calm.

“Oh. You must be the boyfriend” He drags the word, measuring him from head to toe.

“I’m gonna give you a second to walk away,” Steve said, his voice flat but steady “That’s me being nice.”

The man laughed like it was a challenge “Relax, man. We were just talking.”

“She didn’t want to talk. That should’ve been enough” He says, his tone stern.

For a second, you saw that flicker behind his eyes. The growing rage, the urge to throw a punch, that old familiar feeling he tries so hard to hide. Instead, Steve took a breath. Closed his eyes, and rubbed his face slowly. His palm dragged down the stubble along his jaw, trying to ground himself. And then he counted, not out loud. You and Robin looked at each other, your foreheads wrinkled with confusion.

“Is he having a mental breakdown?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Hey, Dingus” She calls out.

The man stared at him with the same confused expression. Steve’s shoulders dropped and his fists unclenched.

“Dude, what are you even doing?” The guy asked, laughing awkwardly now, trying to act as though he wasn’t starting to feel dumb.

And they were calm.

“I’m not gonna hit you,” he said clearly. “But you’re gonna leave. Now.”

There was something about the way he said it, too low and calm, that made the guy finally back off. You all watched and the man turned on his heel and muttered something under his breath, walking off toward the bar. Only then did Steve look at you.

“You okay?” He asked softly. He felt lighter, almost as if it had wore down to concern instead.

You nodded, feeling your heart still thudding “Yeah. I was trying to handle it, thank you.”

“I know” He said, offering a small, sheepish smile “I just… couldn’t not come over.”

You reached for his hand under the table, lacing your fingers through his

“I’m glad you did.”

“What happened there, by the way? Looked like you were having a blackout” Robin asked and he huffed an embarrassed laugh.

“Thought I’d try something new. It helps me think, I guess.”

And you two shared a smile.

“Nice restraint, Harrington. The countdown’s new” She says as she pats his shoulder.

“Figured… if I want to be the kind of guy who doesn’t lose it in bars anymore, I should probably take it seriously.”

That knocked the air out of you in the best way.

You squeezed his hand “That’s… really good. Seriously.”

He smiled, finally really smiling, and it hit you again how gorgeous he was when he wasn’t carrying everything on his shoulders.

“Hey” He said as he leaned down, close enough that only you could hear “You sure you’re okay?”

“Better now” You said honestly, a shy smile painting your face.

His lips twitched “I don’t like it when people bother you.”

“I noticed.”

“I really don’t like it when they assume they can touch you or talk to you like that.”

“Then maybe” You murmured, pulling him just a little closer “You should give them a reason not to.”

Steve blinked, then laughed softly, brushing a knuckle under your jaw. “Careful, Angel. You’re gonna make me forget I’m trying to be good.”

Something inside of you coiled at his tone, at the way his eyes glinted with something mischevious.

“You’re already good, Harrington” You whispered back.

And you saw it. The way he blushed, trying to bite back a grin as Eddie called him from the stage.

“Gotta go” He said, standing reluctantly.

But before he left, he leaned down and kissed the side of your head, right close to your ear “Stay close to Robin, okay?”

You smirked “I can handle myself.”

“I know. But I like handling things for you.”

Then, before seeing your own cheeks blushing, he jogged back toward the stage, grinning, with his guitar hanging low across his hips.

Robin elbowed you and whispered in your ear “So, you didn’t deny when that creep called him your boyfriend.”

And only at that moment did you realize how you barely noticed when it happened.

“And he didn’t deny it either” She giggled.

You groan and take another sip from your drink “Just shut up, Robs.”

“Oh, this is so adorable. You know he likes you.”

You blush so hard, it’s difficult to pretend your cheeks aren’t burning. And when she sees it, she laughs and gives you a side hug, resting her head on your shoulder.

Eddie always catches a glance of his friend playing the entire time focusing on you. He sees the way Steve rarely leaves your eyes and even though you don’t stare right back at him all the time, you can’t help but think how you wished he looked at you. Eddie knows he loves you. He knows he cares so much about you that it makes him a better person.

He grins to himself when he looks at Steve again and witnesses a blush, a small fraction of a shy smile. He’s definitely whipped.

Steve Harrington didn’t just love you. He was learning how to protect you without breaking himself.

And that meant everything to you.

Sometimes when he’s not working, he likes to come over to your house and just... stay. No plans. No parties. You never ask him to come over, not really. He just shows up with a soft knock on the door with a lazy grin, a bag of chips or takeout swinging from his fingers. Like it’s instinct now. As if he knows when you need company. Tonight’s one of those nights.

You’re stretched out on the couch, one arm over your eyes to block the flickering light from the TV, your body finally relaxed. Steve’s on the floor again, leaning back against the edge of the couch, with the acoustic guitar in his lap. His head is thrown back just far enough to rest against your thigh, as if he’s been doing it forever. You can feel the slow rise and fall of his breath, the steady warmth of him.

His fingers move across the strings, strumming at something slow, like an unfinished song. A little dreamy, a little sad. You don’t recognize the tune, but it settles into your chest with something familiar.

“You always write your own stuff?” You ask.

Steve hums, not looking up “Yeah. Mostly.”

You smile behind your arm “Why haven’t you ever played me anything all the way through?”

“I do play for you” He says it just as if that should be obvious.

“Not real songs. Just little bits and pieces.”

He pauses, fingers frozen over the strings.

“Maybe that’s because they’re not done” He shrugs.

“Or maybe it’s because they’re about someone” You tease, lifting your arm to glance down at him.

He’s already looking up at you. His expression shifts, just slightly. Like you almost caught him.

“Maybe.”

You’re caught with surprise in your eyes, and suddenly it makes him chuckle “Wait… seriously?”

Steve shrugs again, smirking now, trying to play it off “Everyone writes about someone.”

You turn on your side, propping your head up on your hand “Yeah, but you get all intense when you write. Like ‘don’t talk to me I’m creating art’ kind of intense.”

“I do not” He grumbles.

You grin “You totally do. You get that furrow between your eyebrows and everything.”

Steve huffs a laugh “Okay, well maybe I do. Are you saying you keep staring at me?”

That makes you pause.

You reach down and gently flick at his ear, just enough to make him swat you away with a half laugh “So who’s she, huh? This mystery girl you’re writing all these secret sad boy songs about?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just leans forward to scribble something into his notebook resting beside him on the rug. You glance at the page, but his hand covers most of it. All you catch is a line: she walks like she doesn’t know I’m still watching.

You feel a flutter in your chest, but try to brush it off.

Steve clears his throat, still not looking at you “She’s… someone who knows me. Even when I’m kind of a mess. Especially then.”

Your smile softens.

“That’s sweet.”

He glances up at you, and the expression on his face makes something in your stomach twist. For a moment, you wonder if you’re the only one who doesn’t understand. Then, his head drops back onto your thigh as if it never left, and he strums a few more chords, this time quieter.

“You want me to finish one?” He asks after a minute. His voice is low, the honeyed tone makes your heart flutter.

You nod, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through his hair “Yeah. But only if you let me name the album.”

He groans dramatically “God, that’s a terrible idea.”

“Why? What’s wrong with ‘Songs for My Favorite Girl Who Steals My Fries and Thinks I Don’t Notice’?”

Steve laughs so hard his hand slips off the fretboard “Please. Never say that to a record label.”

You smile and run your fingers through his hair again. He doesn’t tell you that every song he’s written in the past year is about you. He doesn’t mention that when you lie on the couch like this, the words come to him the fastest. You’re the reason he even started writing again; half of his notebook is filled with little pieces of you, the way you fidget with your rings when you’re anxious, how you hum under your breath while brushing your teeth, and the sound of your voice when you’re sleepy and trying to pretend you’re not.

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he plays, and it’s quiet and steady. It’s a song you’ve never heard before but that somehow feels like home. And you lie back, close your eyes, and let him write you into another night without even realizing it.

It was one of those pretty lazy golden Indiana spring afternoon where the air smelled like grass and the whole group stretched out on picnic blankets, passing around warm sodas and salty chips. You were all there. Steve, Robin, Dustin, Eddie, Nancy, even Jonathan. For once, the laughter rolled around easier. It hadn’t felt like that for months. Steve had been smiling, joking, and tossing grapes at Dustin as if everything was fine.

Until he saw his father’s car parked across the street. He was wearing a suit as always, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses hiding raging eyes. He tried to avoid the staring, pretending he wasn’t there. Tried to focus on your attempted tongue twist, forced himself to listen to what Eddie was telling Jonathan about weed. But eventually, he stood and walked off behind the trees with tight shoulders and clenched fists.

You watched him go. Ten minutes later, he came back pale and shaking. He didn’t say anything at first, sitting down heavily at the edge of the blanket and stared at the grass, as though it was the most interesting thing to look at. Robin noticed first, leaning in, nudging his shoulder.

“You good?”

Steve didn’t answer. Then you moved closer, voice soft “Hey, talk to me.”

He opened his mouth. and for a second, you thought he’d brush it off like he always did. But instead, he said, too loud and too sharp “He said I’m pathetic.”

The group fell quiet, there was a few exchanging of glances. His eyes were wide, wet, blinking too fast.

“He said I’m wasting everything. That I’ll never be anything but a failed babysitter with no ambition. Said it was embarrassing that I haven't gone back to school. Embarrassing that I hang around a bunch of teenagers.”

His voice cracked on the word embarrassing. No one moved. Steve looked around, as he suddenly realized what he was doing, breaking apart in front of all of you. He swiped a hand over his face and tried to laugh it off, but the laugh broke into a sob.

“I- I didn’t mean to lose it. Sorry. God, I’m so...”

“Stop” You said quickly, already kneeling beside him “Don’t apologize.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of pain and glossy “He doesn’t get it, none of it. He never wanted to.”

You put both hands on his face, gently grounding him “He doesn’t get you, Steve. But I do, we all do. Look around you, there’s a whole group who’s here to support you.”

He leaned forward before he could stop himself, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as if he were exhausted, as if he needed a place to rest. You held him close, not caring about who might be watching. Behind you, someone began quietly packing up food, giving you both some space.

The others started murmuring soft apologies, walking away and scattering toward the parked cars, sharing knowing glances as if they understood that you needed a moment alone.

When you looked around again, it was just the two of you under the trees.

“I thought I was okay. I thought I had gotten past needing anything from him. But every time he talks to me like that, I feel like I’m ten years old again, begging him to look at me.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around him “You don’t need anything from him, Steve. Not anymore.”

He pulled back just enough to see your face “I thought maybe if I was someone good, someone better, he’d see me. Maybe if I kept my life as he wanted and tried hard enough, he’d... I don’t know. Care.”

“You are good. You’re more than good.”

He studied you, his hand came up as if he wasn’t thinking about it, brushing your hair back, fingers trailing against your jaw.

“I thought maybe I saw something in the way you looked at me. Like maybe I wasn’t imagining it. But if I was wrong...”

“You weren’t” You didn’t let him finish. He didn’t get to feel like a failure because he thought he was misreading it.

His brows knit “I wasn’t?”

You shook your head slowly, heart pounding. Your hands were shaking, but you managed to smile.

“You weren’t wrong. I feel the same. I’ve felt it for a while.”

He blinked, in a way that he didn’t quite believe you “You do?”

“I do.”

You leaned your forehead to his, with eyes closed “And I hate that he made you feel as if you’re hard to love. Because you’re not. You’re not, Stevie.”

He let out a shaky breath, with half a laugh and half a cry, and cupped your face as if you were something he couldn’t actually believe was real.

“I thought maybe I crossed a line” He whispered.

“You didn’t. If anything… I was hoping you’d cross it.”

He leans in slowly, like he’s giving you time to stop him, but you don’t want to. You want this. You want him. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is warm and careful. The kind that says I’ve thought about this. A lot. It doesn’t rush.

His hand curls gently around the back of your neck, fingers tangling through your hair, pulling you closer as if he’s trying to memorize how perfectly you fit against him. Your hands grip the sides of his jacket, holding on as if you never want to let go. You sigh into him, and that’s when he deepens the kiss, just a little.

It’s soft, yet it burns, slow and sweet. When you finally pull apart, with your foreheads resting against each other, he’s breathing as if he just ran a mile. His eyes are still closed, but he’s smiling. A real smile this time, an honest one at that.

“Wow” He whispers.

You smile back “Yeah.”

He nudges his nose gently against yours “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Me too. You have no idea.”

His fingers graze down your arm and find your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, squeezing once.

“I think I do now.”

And for the first time all afternoon, maybe after a long time, he doesn’t look lost. He looks found.

You thought everyone already knew about you and Steve, especially after that afternoon at the picnic. At least Robin and Nancy were aware of it. They kept asking you to share details about that day and how everything happened. They wanted to know when you first noticed your feelings and what it was like. They seemed genuinely excited to see that Steve had finally found someone who liked him for who he is, flaws and all. Nancy, in particular, looked more than happy to know it was you, one of her best friends.

You and Steve are sitting on the hood of his car just outside the arcade. It’s not a date-date, but it kind of is. His thigh is pressed against yours, your coffee is in his hand because he always finishes it when you forget it in the cupholder, and he has his pinky loosely hooked around yours in a way that says “this is new and I like it here”. His heart leaps every time you look at him and smile. His throat tightens when you laugh loudly and throw your head back. His knees buckle when you pull his lip between your teeth during a kiss.

You’re in the middle of teasing him about losing Galaga to Dustin again when you hear it. A loud, very theatrical gasp. You both turn, already knowing who it comes from. Eddie Munson is standing frozen on the sidewalk, a bag of Funyuns in one hand and the other dramatically clutching his chest.

“What in the Upside Down hell is this?” He shouts, pointing between you two like he's witnessing a crime scene “Am I hallucinating? Did I die? Is this my personal version of hell?”

You burst out laughing, while Steve just gives him a look.

“Oh my God,” Eddie breathes, walking toward you in slow motion like he's approaching a wild animal “Tell me this isn’t what it looks like. Tell me this is just... You tripped, and she's holding you up, and the eye contact is accidental and deeply misleading.”

You grin, not moving from your seat in the car “What do you think it looks like?”

Eddie stares at you, then at Steve. Then at your hands, then back at you.

Steve raises an eyebrow “You good there, Munson?”

“Good? No, Harrington, I’m not good. You, you are supposed to be emotionally stunted and painfully repressed and terrible at love!”

“Wow” Steve mutters, offended but also amused.

“And you” Eddie says, spinning to face you “Are supposed to have standards.”

“Hey!” Steve protests.

You’re laughing so hard now that you nearly spill your coffee “Eddie, breathe. It’s not that deep.”

He holds up a hand “Okay. Okay, no. I just, how long has this been going on?”

You glance at Steve. He shrugs, sheepishly “Kind of… recent?”

“But not today recent” Eddie says, narrowing his eyes “You’ve got the look.”

“What look?” You and Steve ask at the same time.

“The look” Eddie says dramatically, his bag of snacks long forgotten “The soft ‘I’d die for you’ eyes. He’s practically glowing, and you’re sitting in his personal space like he doesn’t hate it. Don’t try to fool me, I’ve seen rom-coms.”

You roll your eyes “It’s… kind of new, okay?”

Eddie crosses his arms “Does Robin know?”

“Yes” You both say in unison.

“Dustin?”

Steve winces “I don’t think so.”

Eddie gasps again “You mean I found out before Henderson? Oh, this is the greatest day of my life.”

Steve glares “Please don’t make this a thing.”

Eddie smirks, but there’s something softer in his eyes now “Hey. I’m just surprised, not mad. A little horrified, sure, but mostly…”

He pauses, then gestures vaguely between you “It makes weird sense. In a ‘sun and storm cloud’ kind of way.”

You nudge Steve “See? He gets it.”

Steve just grumbles under his breath, clearly flustered. Eddie softens a little more, shrugging his leather jacket higher “Look, I give you crap because I’m me, but seriously… if you make each other happy, then I’m happy for you.”

You smile “Thanks, Eddie.”

He holds up a finger. “However. I will be running an extensive interrogation at your house next week. And if you break her heart, Harrington, I will write a very pointed rock ballad about it.”

Steve groans “Of course you will.”

Eddie grins like the devil “Working title: ‘Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow’ You’ll be immortalized.”

You toss your empty coffee cup into the nearby trash can and hop off the hood “Come on, lover boy” You tease Steve “Let’s go before he gets out his guitar.”

Steve stands too, sliding an arm casually around your waist now that the secret’s out. Eddie just stares at you both with a baffled smile.

“You’re kidding me” He mutters again, but this time it almost sounds as though he means finally.

The sun warms your skin as you step onto the grass of Lover’s Lake, the breeze with fresh hair hits you with the scent of wildflowers. Steve is already there, waiting by the edge of the deck, his eyes lighting up the second he sees you. He grins, hair tousled perfectly as if he just rolled out of bed, but in a way that somehow suits him. There isn’t a day where his hair is actually awful and you hate it. Mostly because you always spend too much time on your hair while he barely brushes his.

“Hey” he says, reaching out to pull you into a hug that’s tighter than usual. His chest is warm against you, and his arms linger longer than it should. You smile, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Miss me?” You ask, pulling him by the collar of his shirt and he giggles.

“Yeah. A lot” He admits, his lips ghosting over yours.

You wrap your arms around his waist and press him closer to you “Good, because I definitely missed you too.”

You walk together slowly along the shoreline, his hand finding yours. His fingers curl tightly around yours, as if he's afraid you might disappear. It feels a bit clingy, but it's also sweet, and you like it. You appreciate that he wants to hold on to you. Suddenly, he stops and gently pulls you toward a blanket he laid out earlier. The sun casts playful dots of shadows above you, dancing on your faces.

Steve’s hand never leaves yours as he pulls you close, his thumb is always tracing small circles on your skin. He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes searches yours as though he’s memorizing every detail. After your picnic, he leads you toward the edge of the water and you can feel the cool, soft mud beneath your bare feet. The lake sparkles in the afternoon sun, but there’s there’s a sharpness in the spring air that makes you hesitate for a moment.

“You cold?” He asks with a playful teasing grin playing on his lips.

“A little” You admit, wringing your hands together.

He just laughs and grabs your hand, gently pulling you forward “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

The water laps at your ankles, cold enough to make you gasp but not enough to stop you. Steve steps closer, pressing his chest against your back, his arms wrapping around you like a warm shield. You feel the goosebumps on your skin, mostly because of the water temperature. The feeling of having his bare chest brushing against your back is overwhelming.

“See?” He whispers, his breath tickling your ear “Not so bad.”

You take a tentative step forward, then another, until the water reaches your knees. Steve squeezes your waist as he secures you. The cold shocks your skin, but it's bearable when he's holding you. He splashes you lightly all of a sudden, and it takes you by surprise. You squeal, wiping your eyes and grinning.

“Oh, it’s on” You say, gathering water in your hands and splashing it back at him.

He laughs, stepping back to dodge the splash but tripping slightly and pulling you down with him into the shallow water. You both come up laughing, dripping wet and breathless. Steve’s hands are everywhere– on your shoulders, your waist, your back. He's clinging like he never wants to let go. You cup his face, wiping a stray of water droplet from his cheek, and he leans into your touch in a way that it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You smile, brushing your fingers through his wet hair “Yeah. You were right.”

He pulls you close again, and this time there’s no teasing, no laughter, just quiet warmth and hope hanging between your lips. The water still laps gently around your legs, but all the chill has faded away, replaced by the heat radiating between you and Steve. His hands slide up slowly, cradling your face with surprising tenderness. His thumb brushes your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. You lean into the touch, your lips parting just a fraction, like an invitation.

Steve leans in too, his breath is warm against your skin. The space between you closes until it disappears entirely, and then your lips meet. The kiss is gentle at first, you’re both testing the water, but then it deepens. His mouth moves with careful hunger, he’s memorizing the shape of you, savoring the softness and your taste.

You close your eyes, letting yourself fall into it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until there’s nowhere left to go but into him. Your tongue laps against his and you hear a soft groan in the back of his throat. The cool water presses against your legs, but all you can feel is the warmth spreading through your chest. When you finally pull back, breathless and smiling, Steve rests his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, definitely the best part of the day.”

You laugh softly, fingers tangling in his wet hair “Agreed.”

The sun has dipped lower now, casting golden lights over the lake’s surface. You sit side by side on the blanket Steve spread out earlier, your legs stretched toward the water, fingers still intertwined.

He is quiet for a long moment, watching the gentle, slow sunset. Then he finally speaks, without looking at you first, his voice carrying roughness as the same time it's steady.

“You know… I don’t say this much” He starts, swallowing hard, feeling like he’s holding something heavy in his chest “But… you mean a hell of a lot to me.”

You squeeze his hand gently, encouraging him. You feel your heart thundering in your chest. He takes a shaky breath, eyes finally meeting yours, they're vulnerable and honest.

“I still get these… these moments where I feel like my heart’s breaking all over again because of my parents. It’s as if there's this weight I carry, even when I’m supposed to be past it.”

A flash of pain crosses his face, and you see the way his eyes glisten, as though he’s barely holding back tears.

“But… when I’m with you? I don’t feel so alone. You make all the hurt… less scary.”

You shift closer, brushing his cheek “Steve…”

He smiles “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.”

You lean in and rest your forehead against his “You’re the best thing I ever wanted.”

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and for the first time in a long while, you see something peaceful settle over him.

@kellyxo1 @sammybrrr @zafetycar @andvys @hellfire--cult @skeltnwrites @ghost-proofbaby @eddiesxangel

[keirareidss]

take the reigns - s.r

♡ summary: spencer wants to try taking control in the bedroom, it doesn't work out exactly how he planned pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut wc: 1.3k request here

Spencer is aware that his sex life was slightly unconventional. Traditional stereotypes present men as assertive, sexually adventurous, and emotionally restrained, and women as docile, passive, and emotionally sensitive. He knew that it was different with the two of you and, though he did enjoy it, god did he enjoy it, he felt a little... insecure about it.

He knew communication was important and he couldn't just introduce his idea in the middle of sex. He didn't think you would take it well if he, halfway through, started acting all confident and aggressive. So he decided to approach the idea during your post-dinner routine of co-existing in the living room.

You liked to call it parallel-play. A way of spending time with each other while also doing your own thing. Usually he would read on the couch while you either sat on the floor, doing a puzzle on the coffee table, read alongside him, or scrolled on your phone with your feet in his lap.

Tonight, you decided to let yourself go mindless, scrolling on your phone while he read, his hand on your knee. Spencer had opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed his mouth about four times now, trying to figure out what to say. He took a breath, ready to try again as you looked at him but once he caught your eye, he stopped again.

"What's going on, Spence? Is everything alright?" You were more than a little concerned by the fact that your talkative little genius had suddenly lost his voice.

"No, I'm- I'm fine." He cleared his throat. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Um..." He trailed off. Just do it Spencer. Rip off the band-aid. "I, uh- I wanted to ask if we could try something different?" He said clumsily and it only made you more confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Like... in bed." You tilted your head, biting your lip and struggling to figure out what he was talking about. At your silence, he continued. "I want to- to try being on top." His voice was getting quieter with insecurity as you finally understood.

"Oh. Really?" You asked and he just nodded, avoiding his gaze with a blush rising on his cheeks. You scooted closer, putting his bookmark back in his book and setting it aside. "Why don't you tell me what you'll do?" You suggested in a sultry voice and he looked at you.

"I- I'll, uh, pin you to the bed and... and tie your hands to the headboard." He started and you grinned at how nervous and stuttery he was. "Sorry, I'm not good at this." He said, looking down at his lap.

"It's alright. Keep going, I'm intrigued."

"Okay... I'll undress you and run my hands up your body." He was leaning in now, his nose brushing against yours. You bit your lip. he wasn't half bad at this. "Then I'll, um... I'll start by kissing your neck."

He felt the pull of his lips to yours like magnets and he couldn't resist anymore, slanting his lips over yours. You were glad he'd taken the initiative, one more step towards him being more dominant. You couldn't lie, you were kind of excited. Sometimes a girl just wanted to get fucked.

"Well, shall we move to the bedroom then? You can really show me what you want to do." You said suggestively and he nodded enthusiastically. You both got up, rushing to the bedroom, eager to get your hands on each other. Before you made it to the bed, Spencer caught you around the waist, pulling you into him and pressing another kiss on your lips. You slung an arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

"G-get on the bed." Spencer cursed himself for tripping over his words but either you didn't catch it or you didn't care, shuffling back on the bed until your back hit the headboard. You spread your legs open, ready and waiting for him. He crawled onto the bed, kneeling in front of you and kissing you again.

"Take off your clothes." You ordered, forgetting about his wish to take control Apparently he'd forgotten as well, obeying your demand and stripping down to his underwear. He suddenly remembered his mission and tugged you further down the bed, taking both your hands in one of his and pinning them above your head. You grin up at him.

"Is this okay?" He asks, contradicting the dominant energy he was attempting to give off. You chuckled and nodded.

"Perfect, baby. Keep going." He uses his other hand to undo your pants. He tugged them off and then pulled your shirt off as well. His lips found yours and you sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down and making him moan. He absentmindedly let go of your hands, moving to hold your side, his thumb brushing the bottom of your breast. You raised one leg, hooking it over his hip and he lets you flip him on his back, straddling him.

It seems you'd both forgotten he was supposed to be on top again. He let you grind your hips down onto him, his hands gripping your hips as you moved your lips to his collarbones, nipping marks into his skin. You reach down, palming him through his boxers and he bucks up into your hand. You slid your other hand up his chest, brushing your thumb over his nipple and he whimpers.

"That feel good?" You asked. His brain was too hazy to answer so he just whined, nodding his head. You pinched the hard bud between your fingers and he gasped, jolting slightly at the sensation.

You pulled his cock from his boxers, the tip red and leaking precum. You sat up, positioning your hips over his length and sinking down onto him. The stretch always made you feel so good, his hardness filling you up so nicely.

"Shit, oh my god." Spencer moans breathily and you slowly start moving your hips up and down. You reach back, undoing your bra and tossing it aside. Spencer is transfixed by the movement of your breasts, bouncing up and down as you ride his cock. He sits up, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking, at which you moan. He flicks his tongue over the firm peak and you fist your hand in his hair, arching your back.

"I'm close, I'm close." He whines as he buries his face in your neck.

"Let go for me, Spencer." You said, grinding down harder on his lap. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly to him as he jerks and twitches underneath you, cumming inside you. You follow soon after, going still atop him as you coated his cock with your sweet release.

He falls back on the bed, his chest heaving, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. You slowly lift off of him and he flinches at the stimulation. You laid down next to him, propping yourself up on one elbow to look down at him with a loving smile. You brushed his hair back from his head and he looked up at you.

"You okay?" You asked and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I was supposed to be on top." He mumbled grumpily and you chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby. We can try again if you'd like." You suggested with a grin. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I might need a snack first." He murmured, snuggling into you. You chuckled, laying down and letting him curl into you, wrapping your arms around him. You'd try as many times as Spencer wanted to be on top, as long as he was trying with you.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre

[rosenclaws]

Hi! I really, really love your writing, especially these headcanons.

This is gonna sound really weird but could you write Logan with a reader who struggles with friendships and making friends? And general loneliness?

I'm struggling with feeling like I have no one right now and I just would really like to read about Logan loving on me and making me forget that for a bit

HI!! of course I can. we don't really talk and im so ass at responding BUT my dms or inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to <33 I really understand where ur coming from this was literally me all through college. I didn’t make a single friend bc I commuted and I felt so lonely. Also dofp and trilogy logan can be read more platonic so if u arent happy with it i can redo them!

Origins Logan -

I think that Logan isn’t great with making friends either. He’s not super interested in making friends so he’s very content being alone or being with you. But he notices a small sadness in your eyes sometimes. How you never seem to go out with people or the way your voice falls when he tells you he’s going to the bar after work with some work friends. He wasn’t sure what it was at first but then he saw you tucked away with tears in your eyes one night and decided it to get to the bottom of things.

See making friends is hard. You try. You really do. But no matter how nice you are and how much you try to reach out it just never works out. You never told Logan about it. Fearing he’d laugh or think you were lame. But it breaks his heart to see you so sad. He puts you in his lap and assures you that he’s there for you. He’ll be your boyfriend, your best friend, your support system. Hell he’ll even be your enemy if you wanted him to be.

He takes you out to town more in his free time encouraging you to join that book club you see flyers for or maybe that running group. Of course he won’t push anything but he just wants to see you happy. Whatever you need from him he’ll be. Because he loves you and he’ll be by your side through it all.

Trilogy Logan -

It’s stupid. At least it feels stupid. You live in a mansion with people just like you. Yet somehow you just feel lonely. You didn’t grow up here. You came very late in life and your powers didn’t warrant a spot on the team. In fact you swear the only reason Charles let you in is because they needed an art teacher. You’d sit in the kitchen at dinner by yourself while everyone was chatting around the counter. You would take walks when the students and staff played games. You were never invited to go out afterwards. Hell you aren’t even sure anyone else knows your name.

Until Logan came along. You knew him, of course you did he was The Wolverine after all. But you swore he never even gave you a second glance. It was your birthday and you were once again alone. You debated on going to the store and buying a cupcake but before you could make a decision Logan made it for you. A cute pink box sat on your bed with a card in very proper handwriting. The card just read Happy birthday signed by Logan of all people. It was your favorite flavor too. You confronted him and he just shrugged. He had always seen you but he was a lone wolf kind of guy. Still he liked you and in the spirit of…teamwork? He reached out. Logan was more than the grumpy man you thought he was. He was funny and had a sharp tongue. But he was sweet and a big softie. Only you got to see that side. He was your friend and slowly he made you feel seem. Made you feel loved. Now you have someone to exist in silence with and you’ve never been happier.

DOFP Logan -

I think it’s similar to trilogy Logan in the sense that he sees you when you feel like no one else does. He’s observant and the man can see that you don’t talk much to anyone. At a staff event you stayed quiet in the corner. Your face had “get me out” written all over it. A look he knows too well. He doesn’t know what draws him to you exactly. He thinks your smart and the kids love your class so why hasn’t he seen you around more.

The truth is you hated these events because you want to be apart of the fun so badly. To talk and laugh and befriend the people everyone seems to idolize. But no matter how hard you tried you just faded to the back. Making friends isn’t as easy as asking someone if they like ponies or the color purple. So when Logan. The Wolverine of all people walked up to and talked to you. It was bizarre. Not that you were complaining but fuck how did he even know who you were?

You start to overthink everything with Logan. Are you too clingy? Too forward? Should you ask if he wants coffee when you asked him yesterday if he wanted an extra donut? Eventually I think he asks you about it and you confess that making friends isn’t easy for you. Logan doesn’t think you’re weird or a loser for it. He understands shit happens and things aren’t easy for everyone. He is not a people person either and making friends is low on his skill set. But he likes you a lot and he’ll happily be your friend. Maybe more if you’re interested. He’ll be whatever you want him to be.

Old Man Logan -

Logan notices you’re just a little off. That you aren’t as happy as you used to be. A part of him is worried it’s his fault. He’s gone so much working and when he’s home he’s exhausted. He tries to take out on a nice date every other week. Something that you’ll remember for a long time. He’ll by you flowers he thinks are pretty from the store. They aren’t the most expensive but you don’t care. Was he not doing enough? I think he hides his worry until one day he finds you teary eyed laying on your bed and he can’t hold it in any longer.

It feels silly to tell him. He’s got so much on his plate and it’s not his fault he has things to do. He takes such good care of you and loves you. But you’re lonely. You go to work you come home and that’s it. You have Logan but you don’t have any friends and its starting to weigh on you. You try but people can be mean or they already have friends. You feel like theres something wrong with yoj. Logan frowns as he reassures you there’s nothing wrong with you. Absolutely nothing. Making friends ain’t as easy for some people and that’s okay. He would pick you up in his arms and cuddle you. He makes an effort to be the person you can always come to. Texting you things in between his rides. He’ll let you blow up his phone with everything you’re doing. He can’t always respond but he promises he reads it. When he comes home he’ll listen to you talk, ask a few questions and smile when you do. It can be hard but the loneliness isn’t forever and Logan will be your beacon for as long as you need him.

Worst Logan -

Wade has a lot of friends and sometimes it can be overwhelming as hell. So sometimes Logan just fucks off for a little bit. He enjoys the quiet more than the noise of people. That’s where he meets you. You live next door but he’s never met you. Not even Wade really knows who you are. You’re quiet and reserved and seem to stumble on your words. But Logan likes you. You’re much more tolerable than Wade for long periods of time. Sometimes you show up to ask for help or to drop off something but you don’t stay long.

After a while Logan asks why you don’t come to dinner or any of Wade’s parties. That’s when you tell him the truth. You aren’t Wade’s friend and that sometimes your jealousy gets the best of you when it comes to hearing how much joy and life comes from his apartment. Wade is friends with just about everyone but for some reason he never bothered to befriend you. You’re lonely and despite your small attempts to become closer they never went anywhere so you kind of just gave up. Until Logan came along. He was nice and he looked at you and gave you the time of day.

Admitting to him you were lonely was hard but he understands. He was the same way for years. All his friends had died and he had no one for a long time. He never wants to be that lost again and he won’t let you feel that way anymore either. He listens and he tells you that things might feel bad now but it will get better. He can’t tell you when but he’s there and he hopes his company can distract you even just for a little bit. Wade was appalled with himself for not introducing himself sooner once Logan brings you to a Sunday dinner.

He doesn’t force you to talk to anyone or suddenly expect you to be amazing at making friends with these strangers but he is there when you look back. Offering a smile that encourages you to open up just a little more. And if things feel like you’re losing it again, he’s right there to comfort you. He’s just a wall away and there’s no where else he’d rather be than with you.

[sugarhog05]

Hello!!! I absolutely LOVE the Starlit Swordsman AU and I was just like...drooling over your art style. (also the general storyline, but I digress) ANYWAY! I was wondering how you come up with designs for the little guys? like, everything looks so nice and cohesive. how. it looks really good.

Hi! Tysm and I’m glad you enjoy the AU :D

As for design I based a lot of it off of the flowers I picked for them.

For Sun I wanted him to be more pretentious in the beginning but you would learn that he was actually a sweetheart and a pacifist. So I used lighter colors such as white and pink to show his more innocent and naive nature. He’s never really talked to anyone who isn’t in the higher class so he’s a bit oblivious to the struggles of people less fortunate.

His sleeves were actually based on how dahlias look and were meant to show that he’s more interested in how something looks over how functional it is. His jewelry is also meant to show his interest in fashion, and how he enjoys the finer things in life. Metal jewelry is hard to come by as its use in wide spread animatronic repairs and such causes it to be much more valuable and is usually only worn by the higher class.

His circlet is actually because he didn’t want Moon to feel out of place being the only one with a crown. (That’s also why I gave him a crown lol.) The gemstone in the middle is a pink kunzite which has a variety of meanings but I picked it because it mostly symbolizes love and purity as well as emotional healing which the Swordsman desperately needs lol

I also made his pants not tucked into his shoes to show his more carefree nature.

Next Moon is actually the first one I designed. Moon is quiet and soft spoken, but actually pretty talkative when he’s around someone he’s comfortable with. He’s also more of a tease/prankster with those he cares for. Moon is secretly a romantic (at least he likes to think it’s a secret) so his more open shirt is meant to reflect that.

His corset is also meant to reflect that more romantic side, but his reasoning in the AU for wearing it is just he likes how corsets look.

The star like pattern on his chest was a nod to an old AU of mine where the boys are ballerinas.

The frills on his shoulders (which I often forget to include in my art lmao) are supposed to be almost an angel wing visual to show that he’s actually very compassionate.

Moons more humble than Sun is, since he’s spent a lot of time around the knights with his training it’s also where he got a lot of his teasing/prankster attitude since the knights would mess with him a lot. Not in a malicious way though! They’re actually quite fond of Moon and didn’t really like holding him back when they were training him.

The guard is very thankful that the Swordsman was able to convince Eclipse to let Moon actually train, since none of them would ever stand up to Eclipse even if they didn’t really agree with him.

Moon wears a gold band around his neck rather than a jabot collar because it really bothers him sensory wise. His crown is meant to be the rim of his nightcap, and the gems on it are red jade. They also have a variety of meanings but the ones I picked it for are passion and strength (in reference to his love of sword fighting)

The white morning glory influence is also to show his innocence and thus naivety to the struggles of the poor. White morning glory’s also have the meaning of renewal/new beginnings which would be in reference to his new found confidence in himself with his swordsmanship. (And his opening up to someone other than his family.)

For Eclipse his color palette is meant to be more dark and intimidating. Eclipse is an older model than his brothers, so his teeth have discolored over the years. His endoskeleton is also made of a different metal than his brothers, and while he doesn’t show it Eclipse can have mechanical issues sometimes.

Only Eclipse and his royal technician know, (basically the robot doctor lol) and the technician knows better than to say a word about Eclipses condition. Even his brothers are unaware of it, and Eclipse intends to keep it that way. He needs to be strong for them.

Eclipse loves his brothers dearly, which is why he has a Sun and Moon on his hat. Eclipse doesn’t wear a crown because he has no need for one. His rays are basically a built in crown he reasons, and people know better than to tell him otherwise. Eclipse has cufflinks that also relate back to Sun and Moon, but he also has two other ones. There is a reason for them, but I’ll leave that a secret for now. 👀 I will say he’s had the cufflinks since before he met the Swordsman.

He wears poppies on his shoes, and many of his outfits have poppy imagery on them. His reasoning for his near obsession with them is unknown, but people have speculated that it’s because of how poisonous they are. Poison isn’t really Eclipses style though, so it’s also been speculated that it’s the meaning behind them. No one knows for sure though. (I picked them for both reasons lol but Eclipses reasoning I’ll leave unanswered for now)

His cape is obviously a reference to a sunset/sunrise or you could say… dawn and dusk? Yup, it’s another reference to his brothers! The dark fur coloring is once again meant to show his darker nature, but could also be interpreted as his opposition/dislike to most other royalty. He doesn’t like their sense of superiority over those they deem lesser, so he goes against the typical white fur in favor of the black. It also just looks better in his humble opinion.

The jewelry on his rays are gifts from Sun that he refuses to take off. His rings are also gifts from Moon, that he once again refuses to take off.

His gemstone on his collar is a white opal, which is meant to give the Swordsman and him a connection since the gemstone on their collar is a purple opal. White opals are symbols of hope and confidence. Opals are also sometimes referred to as cursed and magnets of misfortune… I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything!!! Just a coincidence. Totally.

Finally, The Swordsman. One of my favorite design concepts are the creepy completely shadowy face/figure with only white eyes being the only visible facial feature. I also knew I wanted the Swordsman to have some kind of off/inhuman appearance that they would hide behind their helmet.

As I said before, their gemstone on their collar is a purple opal. It like many gemstones has several meanings, but I picked the purple opal because some of its meanings are personal growth, emotional healing, protection, and also relates back to royalty.

The feather is an obvious reference to how knights would have them sometimes, but it was also good for showing their relation to Midravens.

Their cape is meant to represent a night sky. I actually debated putting stars instead of clouds, but it looked kinda strange and was too playful for their personality. So I gave them clouds and left the rest blank. I did also think of just giving them the little dot type stars to reflect a real night sky, but it made them look a little too sparkly.

Their shoulder pauldron was to give them more asymmetry and interest. It also is where their insignias are placed. What do the insignias mean? You’ll find out eventually :)

The lack of armor on the Swordsman is purposefully meant to show their confidence in their abilities. They’re a little over confident, although it’s not entirely unwarranted. They’re are very good, but not invincible. They are reminded of this after defending Sun at the party… it’s not entirely their fault though because Suns safety came first, so they had to leave an opening they knew would probably end in them being hit.

Hydrangeas are one of my favorite flowers, so when I was coming up with Y/N I wanted their personality to reflect the meaning behind them. They’re understanding of people’s faults as they have many of their own, they can be cold (frigidity) and they have many regrets.

Ravens were the second concept I wanted to include, and their often seen as harbingers of death so it was good to subtly refer to how dangerous they can be. Ravens are also sometimes seen as tricksters which is why Moon and them get along so well.

Their sword is another reference to Midravens with its guard being wings. I’m not sure how well it comes across in the drawing, but the metal of the sword is meant to be Damascus steel. It’s much harder than normal steel and resists breaking much better. It also stays sharper for longer. I chose to make it that way because they are in a world where fighting animatronics is just as likely as fighting humans, so to get the upper hand it was almost a necessity for them to make it that way.

…Holy moly that turned into a much longer yap session than I intended lol

But yeah! I hope that was helpful in understanding the design choices I made and how I came up with them 💜

[bomberqueen17]

home/writing

back in buffalo for the week. i am always so discombobulated when i first arrive. i did get a bunch of shit done yesterday but all of it was odd little discrete tasks, or i only worked on them for a little bit and didn't finish them. i have things to do today as well, and i'm trying to be coherent about it.

one of the things i did manage to do was publish another chapter of the solarpunk sequel to the beta doc. i'm like.... halfway through the sequel i think, and it's going slowly because i'm not sure how i'm going to get the plot climax to come together. and i'm paying the piper, as i foresaw: fanfiction has a level of engagement that original fic doesn't, and I really tried to cushion myself against that by trying to collect people who'd come along with me, but of the 20 or so people i gave access to the doc, only half have engaged with it at all, and of those, only about half made it all the way though the first one and into the sequel, and I know people are still plugging away and I did expect there to be some tapering-off-- it's so many words! it is and real life is so busy, etc-- but I had foolishly expected a few more people to actually follow through, since I'd made it so very very opt-in to start with. So I do treasure every comment but there just aren't very many, and I know the first novel needs some structural changes but I don't know how to identify or make them, and I know I need to slog through and finish the thing before I can decide how to revise the start of it. And as I had sort of expected, I'm really having trouble being alone with myself in it, and it doesn't help that the pace is so slow because I don't have very much time to work on it now-- when I do have time, I have to spend so much effort convincing myself that people will care and it is worth doing etc etc. Lack of momentum is a real bitch.

No shade to those who haven't been able to actually interact, but, I am struggling. Last week was really bad, for hormonal reasons I suspect, but having come out the other side of that, I am grimly aware that it wasn't just that, it is a real problem I'm dealing with. So, if you did request access to that doc and have been thinking about getting around to it, I'm still in need, maybe more than ever. And if you did request access and never saw the email where I granted it, do let me know. And if you didn't request access because you thought so many other people already had, or something like that, well. I never closed the form.

I keep trying to convince myself it's not a bad story. I did just get to the exciting bit, I think. It's got first draft problems but I swear there's good bits. But sometimes I feel like I'm just deluding myself that anybody's going to want to read this. Yeah I've published millions of words on AO3 and reasonable numbers of people seem to love them, but those were other people's characters; my own just aren't that compelling, is the unavoidable feeling it gives me. So I'm having a really hard time with that, but I knew I would.

In my weary despair last week I tabbed back over to my fanfic docs but you know, that's a sort of false comfort-- it's been so long since I updated most of those stories that I don't think I'd get a lot of engagement if I did finish the half-done chapters and get them up. I might try; I know there are a few rereaders, and some people subscribed who'd probably come back and look. But I'm really determined to finish this story with the solarpunk stuff and the mammoths and talking dolphins and so on, even if almost nobody wants to read it, because I never was going to be able to sell it anyway and sometimes you just really need to tell a story.

It's just lonely, and I'm tired.

Anyway. I just spent two hours trying and failing to make myself write more and am giving up to go do more unconnected home tasks because idk what else to do.

[throneofrayllum]

Camp fam headcanons for pride month!!!!

....+ Gia and Soyona - I WOULD DO THE HANDLER INDIVIDUALLY BUT I NEVER REALLY CONNECTED TO THEM OR THEIR STORY IM SORRY GUYS. I KNOW IT'S BLASPHEMY I TRULY WISH I WAS MORE INTO THAT CHARACTER.

I can say for sure that 100% the handler is a lesbian. and was with soyona santos.

warning : long ass post incoming

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Sammy: Realized she liked girls when she was ten. because of her families "values" and religious/political beliefs, she thought it was "wrong". Sammy believed that something about her was wrong. she would cry to her older sister Catalina (Cat) about how she thought that God messed up when he was making her :( Cat had to unlearn some of the hateful beliefs her family had taught her, but she loved Sammy more than anyone else, and was willing to change for her. Cat actually ended up becoming a major #ally. Stan Cat. No one else in Sammy's family knew for a really long time, and Sammy didn't even really let herself dwell on it too much. She knew she was a lesbian, but would spend months trying to "turn straight" and would pretend to have crushes on boys at school so she could fit in with the other girls. During the end of 8th grade/a little over the summer before ninth grade, Sammy started talking to a girl named Anne from school. She and Anne spent every second of summer together, and were each others first kiss. Sammy was able to momentarily forget about her struggles with her identity because being with Anne helped her forget. However, when school started back up again, Anne ghosted her. She would ignore Sammy in the hallways, wouldn't sit with Sammy at lunch, and started dating the captain of the football team. When Sammy finally was able to confront her in the girls bathroom one day, all Anne told her was that "we're girls. I can't actually date you, it was just a summer thing". Sammy's lil 14 year old heart was fucking shattered.

ANYWAYS. Flashforward Sammy goes to camp cretaceous that winter and y'know. Shit happens. She finally accepts her sexuality while being stranded with camp fam because for the first time she's surrounded by people who love her unconditionally. When Yaz finally confesses to her, she's ready. She accepted herself and was prepared to face the hardships that their relationship would bring, because Yaz was by her side. Her parents were..."accepting" at first because they were just so happy to have their daughter back. But, once they realized that Sammy and Yaz were serious, they started trying to push Sammy away from Yaz and change who she was. She lost contact with all her family except Cat.

Yaz: Her mom had always been very open about supporting the lgbtq community, so Yaz had always been supportive herself, but had never considered that maybe she wasn't straight. Not for any internalized homophobia reasons, she just literally had never had a crush on a girl. She didn't even know she could feel that way until Sammy. BUT OH BOY COULD SHE. I think Yaz fell in love with Sammy in season 3, she just didn't realize until the events of season 5. When Yaz came out as bi to her mom, mama Fadoula was 100% supportive and so proud of her daughter. She even said, "I already knew". Yaz asked how and Mrs. Fadoula just said, "Eh, had a feeling. You were a little too into Mulan as a little girl to be straight."

Yaz had never dated anyone before Sammy, and so Sammy taught her a lot 😉Sammy and Yaz also went to their first pride month together, accompanied by Mrs. Fadoula, Brooklynn and Brooks dad's.

Brooklynn: There was never really any official "coming out". She was raised by two dad's, and so she always knew that boys liked boys sometimes, and girls liked girls, and everything in between. Brooklynn knew since she was like 6 that she liked girls. Her first "crush" was Avril Lavigne. Her dad's thought it was adorable. There's numerous home videos of baby brook fangirling over an Avril Lavigne music vid. The first time she pointed out a guy to her dad's in a "oh damn, he's cute" kinda way, they were both SHOCKED. They did nawt know their daughter was into men lmao. She never really opened up about being bi to her followers when she was younger, because she knew she would loose followers for it. She and her dad's got in numerous fights over this, because they didn't want her to do something where she couldn't be her real self.

Post - nublar, she finally stopped hiding the fact that she was bi. Flashforward to Chaos Theory, Soyona was her first...situation with another woman. Brook doesn't even know what to call it. But whatever it was, it wrecked her and made her feel alive at the same time. Brooklynn did fall in love with Soyona, but it couldn't last and she knew it. She had made Soyona fall in love with a lie, and no complicated feelings Brooklynn had would stop her from taking Santos down.

ANYWAYS ALSO SHE LOVES HER HUSBAND!!!!! SHE AND DARIUS ARE BI4BI BADDIES.

Darius: Never really thought about dating or attraction before or during Nublar. He had just never had feelings like that before. After Nublar he decided he wanted to explore a bit. There was no big deal with him being bi. Brandon is gay, and mama Bowman's also super supportive, so he knew it wouldn't be a huge thing. Just casually told everyone he was bi over dinner one night:

Kenji: dude, we all knew

Brandon: cool little man

Mama Bowman: Aw, thanks for telling us that sweetie!

(to her other sons): Boys, you could act a bit more enthusiastic!

He fooled around with his friends from school in 10th and 11th grade. He went to prom with one guy he'd gone on a few dates with, but they ended up just being friends. He also did homework with (made out with) one girl for like months. It drove Kenji nuts because "DUDE YOU CAN'T BE SHOVING YOUR TONGUE DOWN EACH OTHERS THROATS EVERY TIME I COME IN YOUR ROOM" to which Darius would always reply "OK, WELL, I COULD SAY THE SAME ABOUT YOU AND BROOKLYNN"

He stopped "dating" during senior year though because of the demand of school/work

Brooklynn is it for him, if it's not her, it's not anybody.

Kenji: When he was in 6th grade, he started realizing he kindamaybesorta liked boys the same way he liked girls. Didn't let himself even look at boys after he realized because he knew his father would disapprove, and he didn't want to let Daniel down again. (FUCK YOU DANIEL). He went out with a lot of girls before Nublar, and it was never the same one twice. He'd never actually felt romantic attraction towards them, it was just something fun to do. (yes, he was a bit of a heartbreaker). Brooklynn was the first person he'd ever felt romantically attracted to...and obviously that didn't work out but they had some great years together and basically entered adulthood together. He finally accepted his sexuality not long after camp fam got back home from Mantah Corp island.

When he realized he was in love with Ben it hit him like a truck, because soon after he found out Ben had hidden Brooklynn from him, AND he found out Ben had a girlfriend. He can't catch a goddamn break when it comes to love.

He was def having a crisis for more than one reason in Italy because not only did the love of his life have a girlfriend, BUT SAID GIRLFRIEND WAS FUCKING HOT. Anyways, it's my job to spread the Bengiakenj propaganda and that's what I'm gonna do.

Ben: Came out as trans when he was 11. He had been so scared to tell his mom, but she'd just told him, "I knew honey, I've known for a long time. I was just waiting until you were ready to tell me." She immediately was supportive. His dad on the other hand was horrible. Ms. Pincus actually ended up leaving him. They'd never really had an exciting marriage, and he was honestly such an ass. She was glad to have an excuse to leave him. Ben told Yaz first because he was scared to tell everyone else. She assured him that everyone would accept him. And of course they did <3. After Nublar he only became more and more secure and confident in his identity.

Ben had always known he liked boys, but in high school he kinda realized he didn't exactly have a preference. Gender doesn't really play a role in attraction for him that much.

Ben and Gia are T4T baddies.

ALSO FIGHT ME IF YOU WANT BUT I AM A BEN X KENJI X GIA TRUTHER. YOU'LL HAVE TO RIP THEM FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS

Gia: Her father was extremely abusive towards her as a child, and so Nonna took her in and gained custody of her. Gia told Nonna she was trans, and the next day she woke up to three handmade dresses Nonna had made for her. Nonna was confused on some things, but was so supportive throughout Gia's whole transition. Nonna even attends pride with Gia every year <3

Gia's also pan :)

Soyona: Lesbian. This woman is a lesbian no questions asked. However, she has been in a lavender marriage for business reasons/status. Don't ask me the logistics, I just feel it in my bones that she has.

She hooked up with the Handler not long after she hired her, and they ended up having a two year long relationship. Soyona was considering marriage. However, it's always risky to mix business and pleasure, and their disagreements led to them splitting up (and splitting the kids raptors up). Soyona had loved flaunting Brooklynn around for the Handler to see.

But Soyona did genuinely fall in love with Brooklynn. She loved Brook more than she'd ever loved another woman. Which was funny, because Brooklynn was also the shortest...situationship? she'd ever had. Brokerlynn was a "Soyona fell first AND she fell harder" situation.

Soyona does end up marrying again after prison, but Brooklynn never really leaves her mind. Soyona also 100% hates Darius more than the rest of Brooklynn's "wretched friends" lmao.

THIS WAS A LONG ASS POST. I DON'T REALLY EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT I WAS HEADCANONING EXACTLY? SEXUALITY? PAST RELATIONSHIPS? IDK MAN

I need help

[earlgreytea68]

I just finished a show on Netflix called "Envidiosa," and I loved it, which is unusual for me, since I usually get easily annoyed by most fiction these days.

I saw a lot of people complaining that the heroine was awful and selfish and horrible, and I was wondering what was wrong with me that I sympathized with her. Like, she made a bunch of bad decisions, but I always understood why she was making those decisions. The show, to me, really paid attention to its actual characters and how they would behave and what they would do. Also, the MC really spoke to me. She's a 40-year-old woman who feels like everyone else got the "perfect life" but her, which she defines as marriage and kids. The storyline of the show is more complex than that, but it really did resonate with me, because I am a single, childless woman in my 40s, and I am very happy, I don't want to suggest that I'm not, but I also know that I spend a lot a lot of years thinking I really NEEDED to get married and have kids, that that would of course be what my future had to look like, because that's what it looked like for everyone all around me and that's what society tells us, and I really felt for this MC struggling with her life not turning out the way it was "supposed to." I don't think we see enough characters out there really grappling with that in as much depth as this show did. Like, yeah, sometimes you DO feel like everyone shows up with nothing but good news and you're the only loser whose life isn't going well. Idk, maybe that's just a me thing but my twenties were a rough time and this really made me feel more seen but in a good way, like, yeah, I recognized this person and her struggle.

But then this show did something even more shocking and actually let the OTP, like, get to know each other and develop a relationship so that you could understand why they would want to be together????? This seems like the most basic element of a romcom but wow, almost NONE of them bother to actually do this, they just give you, like, a montage scene of the OTP walking on the beach together or playing a board game and they're like, "SEE, THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER." This show took its time and the OTP had a bunch of scenes together where they actually had fun with each other and connected with each other and I was rooting for them so hard and really, I almost never root for the OTP of a romcom because usually I don't care about them at all lol.

Anyway, I was really, really impressed by this show. I didn't expect so much going in, but it was very thoughtful and well-done. Also, it was hilarious. I laughed so much. All of the characters were great and I loved all of them. I don't speak fluent Spanish but I understand enough to get by and the subtitling of this show is awful, there were so many jokes that I could hear in the original Spanish being spoken that just were lost in the subtitles, sigh, I wish they would have done a better job with that. But it's okay, because it didn't REALLY take away from the rest of the show.

Oh, also, the soundtrack was awesome, A+.

So, I very seldom recommend anything, as you know, I am the most difficult person in the world to please. And I can totally see how some people might hate this show, like, I get it, the MC is a lot to deal with. But I also really loved her and if you want a show about good characters behaving in a way that mostly makes sense and isn't just manipulated for plot purposes, this was a good one, PLUS it was funny, PLUS it had a decent ending (there's another season coming that makes me nervous but I was very satisfied with these two seasons). (And I HATE stupid contrivances to keep an OTP apart, I really do, and I was worried every once in a while that this show was veering off into that territory, but it always swerved its way back onto the track for me, mostly because it always was so rooted in the characters that I got what it was doing and going for, and again, it helped that EVERYONE seemed alike a fully imagined person on the canvase, not just the OTP.) (Well, the love triangle girl that the guy starts dating kind of bothered me but she was the only one.)

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

got a new laptop on sale yayy 😎 hopefully a zoom meeting will no longer threaten to wipe out my whole machine

[tildeath-douspart]

I wonder if they think of me

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Years of reading and writing disapproving parent fic have come back to haunt me, as I'M now the one committing faux pas in front of my partner's uptight parents 🫠✌️

[blindfoldcd]

ooc. rough week. very rough. will hopefully have some time to be here, I’ve got some asks and a couple drafts to answer since my queue is getting low. Also, I will be revising my rules and clarifying a few things due to noticing a trend.

[muttsona]

i hope i die, you broke my heart

[pwurrz]

yakumo reminding quincy that wanting and needing to be taken care of doesn’t make him a burden, and people worrying about him is actually a positive thing because it shows how much he’s loved. yakumo speaks in such a way that leaves little room for doubt, like he’s so certain that what he’s saying is true it would be pointless for quincy to argue.

and yakumo wholeheartedly believes what he tells quincy. after all, it took him a very long time to learn the exact same lesson.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

feel like in the last year I sorta speedran Jinsei Nannimo Wakannee by Necry Talkie to Nobishiro by Creepy Nuts