#december's been kind of a shit show

[outerhexe]

can you still remember your very first kiss? or the future you hoped for when we were still kids? stay young, stay young

—

wishing my favorite asshole a happy birthday 🎂

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[steddie-island]

@steddiemas day 7 - mall and/or workplace WC: 952 | Rating: M (for language) No content warnings, full tags on ao3

Update: @doomcheese made lovely lovely art of them and you should go look at it and show it and her all the love!!! 🥰

Jingle Boy Rock

Wearing the usual Scoops Ahoy uniform was bad enough 11 months out of the year. Wearing it in December was fucking miserable. 

Gone were their usual hats, and in their place were elf hats– the kind that were red with green trim, with a bell on the end and giant felt elf ears on the sides. They were given bright red shorts, with a green and red striped shirt that had bells hanging from the spikes around the collar. 

Steve would have preferred to wear the regular uniform everywhere every day for the rest of his life than wear the goddamned elf outfit all month long. 

Especially when Eddie fucking Munson, the goddamn bane of his existence, worked right across the mall, at the record store. Eddie had taken one look at the Scoops uniform and decided that he was going to be the biggest nuisance in Steve’s life. Every lunch break, every time he was bored, every time he just felt like it, he was there. Leaning against the freezer and smiling that crooked smile. Steve really didn’t want to know how much worse the wheedling was going to get when Eddie saw their holiday uniforms. 

“Jingle boy!” 

Steve groaned– he hadn’t been at work for five fucking minutes, and already Eddie was calling across the mall to him. He pushed both hands over his face and grabbed the hat to pull it off. “He only does that because he always gets a reaction out of you,” Robin pointed out. At least her outfit– a red dress with a green shirt underneath it and matching white and green striped tights— was cute. 

“He does that because he’s a pain in the ass,” Steve said. He dropped the elf ears onto the counter and leaned back against it with his arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t deal with this today.” “Right. Like you don’t love it.” Robin shook her head. “Just kiss him already, dingus.” Steve had heard this at least five times already, and just like he had every other time he waved it away. “Do you say that shit to him, too?”

“No, just to you.” She pushed away from the counter. “Hey, Eddie.” “Hey Buck!” Eddie sauntered over to the counter. Surprisingly he was wearing a hat, too, but it was black velvet with white fur trim. 

“Santa’s goth now?” Steve asked. “Metal, actually. I have to shake things up somehow, right?” Eddie leaned against the freezer. “I like the new getup. It’s very… ‘Hallmark threw up on me.’”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you need something, Munson? Some of us actually have work to do.”

“No one’s here,” Robin pointed out. She just grinned when Steve glared at her. 

“I’m actually here ‘cause I have something for you,” Eddie said. For the first time that Steve could recall, Eddie actually looked… nervous. 

“You have something… for me?” he asked. 

“Yeah.” Eddie pulled a box out of his pocket. “It’s not a big thing, just… something that made me think of you.” He slid the box across the counter and tapped the lid with his fingers. “Go ahead, open it.”

“It’s only the 7th,” Steve said. 

“I know, but I want you to open it early.” Eddie tucked his hands into his back pockets. “Please?”

“You said ‘please.’ Does that mean something’s gonna jump out of the box at me?” Steve joked. He untied the pretty red ribbon and took the lid off. Inside was the cutting of a plant, just a stem with a few little shoots that ended in green leaves and little white berries. There was a matching red ribbon tied around it. 

“Is this…” Steve looked at Eddie. He wondered vaguely if his cheeks were as pink as Eddie’s were. “...mistletoe?”

“Yeah.” Eddie ducked his head so his hair fell into his face. “I, um… I realized that I don’t think my flirting has been working? And I figured, before I turned you off of me forever…”

“Wait– wait, you’ve been flirting with me?” Steve asked. “Since when?”

Eddie looked at him with those big, deep eyes. “Since I walked in and said ‘hey, big boy’? What did you think I was doing?”

“Trying to get under my skin!” Steve said. “Are you– really?”

“I wasn’t trying to get under your skin. Maybe in your pan–” “Hey! Maybe you two should go to the breakroom to finish this conversation!” Robin said. “Quickly, though, Santa’s almost here and that means we’re gonna be packed.”

Steve caught Eddie’s hand and tugged him towards the back room that had a couch, two folding chairs, and a wobbly card table. “You’ve really been flirting with me?” he asked. 

It made sense, when he thought back to all the time Eddie spent tugging at his scarf or flicking his hat, talking about his shorts and–

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot.” Steve shook his head and lightly hit himself in the forehead with his fist– a move he wanted to repeat when the bells around his neck jingled with the movement. “Oh my god!”

Eddie giggled and wrapped his fingers around Steve’s hand to stop him from doing that. “Be nice to yourself,” he said, and Steve was shocked when Eddie leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Anyway, Stevie… my gift. What’d you think?”

“I think… that it’s bad luck, if we let it go to waste.” Steve lifted it out of the box by the stem and leaned in with a smile. 

He wasn’t sure what the mistletoe was supposed to mean exactly, but as their lips met, and as his fingers curled into Eddie’s soft hair, Steve found that he was more than willing to find out. 

[passivenovember]

thinking about the first time Billy has cherry pie and the lengths he'll travel to have it again.

--

Fresh Cherries (part one)

--

Because it's December, Neil makes concessions.

Billy isn't allowed to do whatever he wants, never that, but his leash isn't vice-like. There's some give as he tests his boundaries when there's snow on the ground. Billy isn't sure why, but he isn't about to ruin a good thing.

But. Steve calls on a Wednesday night and says, "Come over."

Billy has to chew and swallow the automated response he's used to giving. It's a school night, Neil'd kill me, and feels like he just got dusted with sugar and put in the oven. Says, "Sure. Let me ask my dad."

"Just sneak out," Steve tells him.

Billy checks the alarm clock on his bedside table. "It's seven thirty."

"So?"

"So, it's not sneaking out hours."

"You're such a stick in the mud," Steve says.

"I'm not, I just--" don't feel like getting my teeth knocked in. Billy picks at the threads in his duvet cover. Counts to three. "I want to be a good influence on you, Harrington."

Steve squaks. Some bright, quaffed bird. "I'm a year older than you!"

"Only 'cause you got held back in the third grade," Billy says. He flops over onto his belly, bringing the phone with him as he tries not to get wrapped up in the chord when Steve laughs.

"This is what I get for telling you all my deepest darkest shit," Steve rustles on the other end of the line and Billy imagines him in bed, or laying on the couch. Maybe flat on the carpet, near the fireplace, shirtless and eating chocolate covered strawberries--

"C'mon," Steve says gently, "Be a bad influence, come hang out with me."

"My dad--"

"Just sneak out, Malibu."

Billy grunts, not wanting to tell the truth, kind of into how Steve's growing more and more whiny as the scene presses on. "I dunno."

"C'mon, it's not hard. I sneak out all the time. Out of my house and into my car and in through your window--"

"--That's different. Your parents don't give a shit where you are."

"You're right. Who cares, though? I'd still sneak out to see you even if they had a bell permanently installed around my neck."

Billy's heart feels like raw cookie dough, sticking to the ribs around him as he bakes and proves under some bright, shining, plastic feeling. "Are they home this week?"

"Nope," Steve says, and the P explodes over the phone line. Wipes out half the city in his excitement. "Mom bought a ton of shit to get me through 'till the twenty-eighth, so we can--"

"You're spending Christmas alone?"

"I always spend Christmas alone," Steve says. Quiet sits heavy, like a filed of snow, between them. Stretching out in every direction. "It's not a big deal. We celebrate Christmas in November."

"With Thanksgiving?"

"Nah, right at the start of November."

"Alongside Halloween?" Billy spats, sitting upright on the mattress. It jostles underneath him. He feels like a raft lost in some huge, freezing, disorienting sea.

He tries to get his barring's, tries to sink his heel into Steve's answering laugh but its hollow like a dead tree, "One year Santa was my dad, dressed as the Cowardly Lion." Steve says.

Billy tries to imagine it. He puts the hard, chilled seed of Steve's childhood near his molars and chews on it for a while, trying to envision the light refracted from all the ways childhood has to bend and contort to suit a kid's parents.

"I never believed in Santa," He says. An offering. Sadness for sadness, or something, like I see you.

Steve hums, and that horrible field of ice and snow between them melts, just like it always does. "Come over," He says, not as hollow as before. Blooming.

Billy puts his shoes on.

--

The Harringtons live in some demented alternate reality where Christmas in December is all for show. Their house has been decorated since the last time Billy was here in Saturday.

He knocks and stares down at Santa, the looming silver-screen image from his childhood, dressed in a floral button down, board shorts and flip flops. Somehow feels colder. When Steve opens the door, he points at it.

"My mom's theme this year is Blue Hawaii." Steve says.

Billy stumbles over the threshold, teeth chattering to shards in his skull. "That's not a Christmas Movie."

"Yeah, but it turns out, Santa can be anything. He's kinda like a chameleon."

"Santa isn't Elvis."

"He could be," Steve says.

Billy shrugs out of his jacket, handing it off, like always. Steve holds it close to his chest, watching with amusement as Billy takes in the foyer. Toes out of his snow-covered boots. "It's like a tiki bar made of pine trees instead of sweet grass."

Steve nods, still clutching the jacket.

His eyes are red.

Billy squints at him, padding closer. "Are you high?"

Steve giggles, bright like a fresh log in the fire.

Billy scrubs a hand across his face, trying to hide the way it makes him go up in Steve's flame. "You're such a dork."

"What? I thought we could--"

"I only have a few hours," Billy tells him gently, trying not to get lost in the sleepy, apple-red flush across Steve's perfect nose. "My dad'll--"

"Just tell him I'm left on my own for Christmas. Maybe he'll feel sorry for me and let you stay the night."

"How do you think I got him to agree to an 11:30 curfew?"

Steve blinks at him and then explodes into glowing, glaring joy. "Are you shitting me?"

"Nope, I'm all yours 'till 11:30."

Steve flushes again, clutching Billy's jacket closer to his chest. "But it's a school night--"

"Guess my old man took pitty on you. Such a lonely boy in his Elvis-themed mansion on the hill, it's kinda pathetic," Billy says, "In a cute way."

"It's not Elvis," Steve says, still grinning, "It's Blue Hawaii."

"Still cute," Billy shrugs, feeling hot all over. Feeling proud of himself. He nearly combusts when Steve moves into his space, eyes nearly going cross to focus on the bridge of Steve's nose.

Billy holds his breath.

He waits for Steve to say something, feeling that huge filed stretch out between them, but it's not snow-covered now.

It's thawing. It's burning up.

Steve wets his lips.

"Uh," Billy says intelligently, looking down when the sleeve of his jacket tugs at him, still viced in Steve's hold. "You can put that in the closet," Billy tells him, caught on the strech of skin over Steve's knuckles. "If you want."

"I don't," Steve tells him.

Billy looks up, eyes crossing again.

Steve winks. "You're warm," He says but Billy feels it, more than anything else.

--

The smell of marijuana and pine is overwhelming, searing through the air after the first shared joint.

Billy rolls his neck and asks if they can crack a window. Steve blinks at him, sealing the second joint with spit. "You trying to get caught, or something?"

"Caught?" Billy asks, trying to force his shoulders to relax. "But. I thought--"

"--The neighbors are nosy 'round these parts." Steve says. He tucks his rolling tray under the coffee table, and Billy watches with droopy red eyes the way his lips close around the butt of the thing.

Steve's lips are perfect.

If Billy was an artist he'd fill sketchbooks with watercolor renditions of that cupid's bow. His fingers would permanently stain with lapping waves of purple-pink, etching the warmth of breath into his nail beds so that the faucet would never run clear of this boy.

He could get lost in those lips. That hair--

Steve hands him the joint and Billy takes it, focusing on the cherry so he won't get lost in Steve's eyes, too, because he's looking. Always.

Billy tries not to drown in it and fails when Steve says, "Y'know. Your eyes are kinda like Blue Hawaii."

"Again with Elvis?" Billy rolls them, handing the joint back. "You're the one who stole his wig."

"My hair is not a wig, fuck you."

"Coulda fooled me."

Steve holds smoke in his lungs, exhaling it toward the popcorn ceiling as he says, "Your eyes are blue."

Billy snorts, laying with his back on the carpet.

"They're the bluest things I've ever seen," Steve says, ashing the joint. "And I've tried to find something bluer. Around town. I even went to the library to look for something in an atlas when Indiana disappointed me, like maybe the ocean is bluer and clearer in the Caribbean, or something, but no."

Billy's heart thumps, nailing his ribs to the floor underneath.

He counts the joints in the popcorn overhead. He feels Steve looking at him, feels himself burning from the inside.

"You're just the most detailed asshole who's ever lived," Steve says, softly.

Billy could sink into it. "Thanks."

Silence falls, again. It's comfortable. Billy stretches, a little bit, twisting until his spine cracks, until he feels like he could pass out from how relaxed he is.

Steve hands him the joint.

Billy shakes his head.

"Why not?" Steve asks.

"I'm laying down," Billy tells the ceiling, "I feel like if I smoke anymore my lungs will give out, or maybe I'll float through the ceiling and disappear."

Steve exhales more smoke. "And right before Christmas, too."

Billy sits crisscross on the carpet, watching Steve puff, inhale, puff, inhale. "You're really not stressed about being home by yourself for six days?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I like having the house to myself," Steve tells him, "Besides, I feel like if I have to spend any more time with my parents this year I'm going to sink right through the floor." Teasing. An echo of Billy's childhood fear of ascending into the ozone.

Billy pokes him with his foot, flushed.

Steve finishes the joint and slides closer. Their knees touch. "What kind of Christmases did you have when you were growing up?"

Billy shrugs. "I'm sill growing up."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, just. I dunno," Billy gets lost in Steve's eyes, a little. Classic beauty. "It was the Coca-Cola Santa kind?"

Steve laughs at him, and then his palms are warm on Billy's knee caps. "The kind with Bing Crosby and miniature towns on the dining room table?"

Billy's mom loved to collect those goddamn things. Neil smashed them all when she ran away and killed herself.

He nods, relishing the weight of Steve's fingertips.

Steve fiddles with the hole in Billy's jeans. "What kind of food did you have?"

"Pizza," Billy says.

Steve blinks at him, lost. "That's not very Coca-Cola of the Hargrove's."

"My mom didn't like to cook."

"Funny," Steve says, combing through the tussle of hair on Billy's kneecap, "Mine doesn't either."

Billy aches to knit their fingers together until they meld, forming the kind of sweater you dig out from the back of your closet year after year, echoing on the stiff frigid breeze until it's tattered and falling apart.

Steve looks at him, smiling. "Do you want some pie?"

--

Steve guts and skins the freezer until it's empty. A carcass picked clean.

Mrs. Harrington must have spent her entire bonus at Melvalds on Christmas dinner, enough to feed four Steve Harrington's and all the people who are desperately in love with him.

Billy tries not to think about them and watches from the counter face, his sock feet thumping gently against the cabinet as Steve pulls dish after dish from a cloud of white exhaust, plopping containers onto the island. "Green bean casserole," Steve says, "Pumpkin pie, pecan, apple, blueberry--"

"--You're supposed to eat all of this?"

"You're gonna help me."

"I don't like green bean casserole," Billy says, yelping when Steve feigns death and collapses into the counter. "Jesus Christ--"

"I'm midwestern, that's a cardinal sin to me."

"Dope makes you dramatic, pretty boy."

"You hate midwestern people."

"Yeah," Billy says, giggling.

"You hate me."

"Shut up," Billy slips off the counter and onto his feet, examining every frozen item while Steve repacks.

"Which pie sounds good?"

"I dunno," Billy says, eyeing the blueberry with suspicion, "Don't we have to wait for them to thaw before we throw them in the oven?"

"I don't think so," Steve says, "I've already tried the cherry and that baked fine."

"I've never had it before."

Steve blinks at him, shocked. "How have you never had cherry pie?"

"My dad doesn't like cherries," Billy admits.

"Just because your dad doesn't like cherries--"

"--Look, my mom wasn't on great terms with the oven, and nobody else is going to waste time cooking shit my dad won't eat," Billy snaps. Feeling red-hot all of a sudden. Angry in a way he hasn't been in a long time for being reminded that other people's dads are shitty in the normal way.

Not like Neil.

Steve either doesn't notice or chooses not to take it personally.

He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a half-eaten cherry pie, picking at its cling-wrap until Billy can see the cherries where the glitter between layers of perfectly brown crust. Bloody little eyes staring up at him like dead fish.

"You can have the rest."

"The rest?" Billy demands, "But what if I don't like it?"

"Not possible," Steve tells him. He opens the microwave and attempts to shove the pie tray in, yelping when Billy snatches it out of thin air. "What--"

"--Aluminum will catch fire in the microwave." Billy snaps. He tries to find it annoying, but Steve just blinks those big, soft eyes at him and the anger washes away. "Get me a plate, bambi boy," He says.

Steve watches Billy plate the pie, giggling as his nose wrinkles in disgust over its dripping red innards. "This is so gross," Billy says.

"You won't think so, once you try it."

Billy walks it to the microwave, carefully pinching the edges of the plate between his palms. "I can't think of a single other instance where that has been true."

He turns the dial. Forty seconds.

Steve's watching him, face illuminated in the golden hum of the microwave.

"What?" Billy demands.

"Nothing," Steve says, leaning against the counter top, "I just can't believe I'm gonna be here when your life is changed forever."

Billy snorts, stalking to the drawer where the Harringtons keep their silver. "Still dramatic, pretty boy."

"Why do you always say that?" Steve wonders.

Billy freezes in place. Two forks in hand. He peers across the island at Steve, heart thrumming loudly. "Why do I always say what?"

"Pretty boy," Steve clarifies.

It hangs between them. The microwave hums, the longest forty seconds of Billy's life. "I," He says intelligently, "It's just. True."

"What is?"

"You're. Pretty," Billy says. And it's like having teeth pulled.

The microwave beeps.

Steve turns away, yanking the pie from its incubation, "Shit," He says, wiggling his fingers. "Plate's hot as hell."

Billy stands there watching him. Breathing. Dying.

Steve looks at him. "Well, do you wanna try it?" Billy nods. Doesn't move. Steve laughs at him. "Come here."

Billy goes easily, like a lap dog being called to perch. He and his forks stare down at the pie with caution, stomach churning at the congealed mess before him.

Steve grabs one of the forks from Billy and cuts the point off, blowing on it until its warm enough to eat. Steve pops it into his mouth, brown eyes falling closed. "Mmmm," He says, like someone would with a spooked and disgusted baby, "It's good."

Billy shakes his head.

"You're so dramatic," Steve says, cutting another huge chunk for Billy. He holds it in the air between them, eyebrows raised. "Trust me."

Billy stares at it. "Why's mine so big?"

"I want you to get the full range of flavor."

"But--"

Steve shoves the fork into Billy's mouth, swiftly depositing the little cherry eyeballs onto Billy's tongue. He coughs and sputters, lips curling around the fork as Steve yanks it away. "Chew," Steve says.

Billy does.

Like it's the first time he's ever done it, clumsy and a little rushed and very, very distracted by the way Steve's watching him.

"Swallow," Steve says softly, barely there.

Billy does. There's something on his face. On his lips.

"What do you think?" Steve asks, staring at them.

Billy resists the urge to lick it away, "Sucked," He says, expecting Steve to laugh, but.

Something rests between them, not growing or stretching or changing shape, but it's there. It suffocates.

Steve looks at him, somehow closer than he was before. "Sorry, pretty boy," He says.

Billy's heart stops. "Why would you say that?"

"It's true. You're pretty," Steve says, watching the red on Billy's lips burn brighter. "You've got a little something on your face." Billy lifts a hand, mouth falling open when Steve grabs his wrist. "Can I," Steve says, soft as summer rain, "Can I kiss you, Billy?"

Billy doesn't move as Steve licks into his mouth, Cherry washing away under the rough, sweet drag of intention.

--

THIS IS PART ONE!!!! OF A TWO-PARTER!

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I get around to part two <3

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 2❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Written with sounds of: Chemtrails over the country club - Lana Del Rey Word Count: 3,5 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @budugu ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

Sneeze. You blow your nose into your handkerchief as quietly as you can and go back to writing. Another sneeze. You watch the tent flap out of the corner of your eye, ready for his return at any moment.

You caught a cold. Probably because you fell into a snowdrift with him and had… a moment there. You'd probably rather avoid all this. At least your heart wouldn't beat stupidly every time you were in his presence. And the stuffy nose and scratchy throat were just an irritating addition to your misery.

You sneeze loudly just as you hear his heavy-booted footsteps entering his tent. You mentally curse and close your eyes. You hear him brush the snow off his clothes before he stands still as he notices you. His burning gaze on your back almost makes you feel a little warmer.

"I'd like to say that I have right, but you look so poorly that even Ivan wouldn't have the heart to tell you that. Explain to me, in the name of the saints, what you are doing here instead of warming yourself by the fire wrapped in a blanket, preferably with a healer who will help you get out of this?" he asks, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose at the pile of used tissues next to you.

"We ungrouped. Zoya took everyone with her except Fedyor, Mal, and Alina and went on looking for the stag." you grumble, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Besides, I haven't finished these papers."

"Why the hell did the tracker stay here instead of going with them?"

You shrug. "I guess he doesn't get along with Zoya. He said the stag got scared and found a hiding place to wait out the worst of the snow. He says we'll try again in a week, when it will stop snowing a little bit. I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd also rather go back to the castle than chase the stag in the beginning of the raw winter."

"If you were him, we would have had a stag's bones in the Little Palace long ago, ready to be used when Alina mastered her powers. Besides, the boy distracts her. Not only does he delay our hunting, he also delays her training and doesn't let her use her full potential."

Jealousy settles unpleasantly inside you, digging a hole in your stomach. You should get used to it. Eventually, he and Alina will end up together one day and make a great couple. Sun and shadows. Light and darkness. Day and night. And other poetic shit like that. They were soulmates. One of a kind. No one could deny it.

"Maybe you're not as good a teacher as Baghra after all?" you say teasingly, trying to enjoy all the attention he was still showing you... at least until he realises that Alina is… extraordinary and is much more worthy of the position by his side. As his second-in-command, right hand, or… even someone much more, you could ever be to him.

"And you against me? My own deputy?" he snorts and walks over to the fire in the centre of the tent. You see the smirk stretch across his lips, and it instantly warms you, even before he even lights the fire.

"Baghra is specific, to say the least, but she is great at what she does. I don't know many people who would ever lose control of their powers after training with her."

"Believe me, I know such people…" he says thoughtfully. He stops lighting the fire and stares at the tinder in his hands. You feel the tension in his muscles and the quickening of his heartbeat as another of his memories comes flooding back to him.

Your heart clenches with grief and sympathy as you see his eyes darken under the heavy flashback. Without thinking, you walk up to him and take the tinder from his hand to light the fire yourself.

"When I was little, my brothers liked to camp in the forest and in the fields. We played soldiers who go to war and have to spend the night with only a sleeping bag and a tent. We had to find the rest ourselves. Our mother had a heart attack more than once when we returned late in the afternoon, dirty, freezing, and starving, but with such big smiles on her face that she didn't even shout at us. She left it to her father." you laughed as the first flames engulfed the logs in the fire.

"What happened to them?"

You're shaking. At first, you don't want to answer his question, but when you look up and see his gaze fixed on you, those dark eyes, so interested in you, you just... melt. Your heart is too weak to let this moment of his attention slip through your fingers.

"Fjerdans. They attacked my village and killed my parents. My siblings and I went to live with our grandparents, and a year later we were tested for Grishas. Only I was. They kicked me out of the house so quickly that I didn't even have time to pack. They did it themselves. My youngest brother took pity on me enough to put his stuffed animal in my bag. As a keepsake. We write to each other. I actually only keep in touch with him. But it's always better than being alone."

"You are not alone." he says it quickly, before he can even process your words, and places his hand on your shoulder, stroking it tenderly. "You... will never be alone, Y/N." he says with such confidence and tone of voice as if it was a promise he would never break.

He looked at you many times, but now. You feel something new in his gaze. A certain kind of tenderness, understanding, need for protection. And you bask in this feeling, as if in the glow of the warmest fire. The fire next to you isn't half as warm as his gaze on you and the touch you feel on your skin even under the layers of clothes you're wearing.

"I... I know." you whisper, hypnotized by the deep gaze of his dark eyes. "I have Fedyor, Genya, David, Alina. You. I found myself a new family. Maybe it's better to be nobody's daughter."

"No one will hurt you like your own family will." he sighs, nodding.

The crackle of burning wood is the only thing that can be heard in the silence that has fallen between you. His hand gradually moves from your shoulder to your neck, where he strokes your cold skin with his thumb, making you shiver.

"You're cold. We should warm you up. Where are your gloves and scarf?" he asks, shaking off the moment between you.

You feel him tense again and go to his bed to grab a black fur blanket and wrap it around you. You blush slightly, enveloped in his warmth and scent. You thank all the saints that he can't hear your heart beating fast… unless he felt your pulse when he caressed your neck with his thumb. Then you are fucked up.

"I left it in my tent. I was in a hurry to get here. I wanted to finish the paperwork as quickly as I could so as not to infect you." he laughs at your words and you frown, not knowing what's so funny.

"I don't get sick, milaya. Get some sleep. Maybe the tracker is skilled enough to track down an animal for dinner. I'll come back with some soup for you. Rest. General's order. I need my deputy to be fully healthy and ready to fulfil her duties. I believe the king will want to call a council as soon as we return."

He throws a pillow at you, which you catch, and he walks out of the tent, leaving you shocked and a little puzzled next to the fire. You immediately feel warmer, and the runny nose bothers you a little less as you allow yourself to lie down. Wrapped in its warmth and scent, you fall asleep ridiculously quickly. Your dreams are filled with him... warming you up in a completely different, more pleasant way.

You don't know how much time passes. You wake up feeling a little better. You look around the tent in a daze, remembering how you got here. The fire still burns, still warming you, but not like a warm blanket and coat. Their black, dark colour clearly indicates their owner.

The smell of something delicious fills your nostrils. Your mouth waters as you look at the huge bowl of warm soup.

"Why is it not a wonder for me that the only thing that can wake you up is food?" you hear his amused voice. You turn towards him. He is sitting at his desk; a candle is lit as he writes something. He lifts his head for a moment and gives you a quick glance. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You take the bowl, and after the first spoonful, you groan at the taste of the soup. "How come this is good? Our supply of spices is long gone; how did you season it?"

He can't help but laugh. He puts down his pen and leans back in his chair, looking at you, curled up in his blankets and coat by the fire. A strange feeling warms him from the inside, seeing you so... at home with him, and if it weren't for your wheezing and red nose, he would have no qualms about enjoying the sight. But he knew you were only here because you were sick, and his care was helpful. No one would willingly stay with him. No one has ever done this...

"I haven't lived in a palace all my life, Y/N. I know how to take care of myself in all circumstances."

"How bad will it be if I say this is better than what you feed us in the Little Palace?" you ask, wolfing down the soup. Somehow he can't help but giggle. The heat inside him continues to grow… maybe you were able to infect him after all?

"Do not get used to it. This special treatment ends when you stop making sounds with your nose with every breath you take. Besides, you snore, colonel." he says it with complete seriousness, but even he isn't strong enough to hide the mischievous smirk that appears on his lips as he watches the growing outrage and embarrassment on your face.

"I am not!" you say it indignantly and throw his pillow at him.

He catches it gracefully with a smirk and throws it next to you, far enough away that you can't reach for it without moving. You moan, but don't change your position. You're too blissfully warm to do that.

"Move up. You can't be in one position all the time. You'll get stiff."

"Won't you massage me, general?" you ask flirtatiously. Your behaviour surprises both you and him, but for some reason, your filter is off. You say what you think, and you don't hold anything back... you also feel very hot, which is both pleasant and a bit bothersome.

"Do not cross the border. I'm not your nurse."

"Shame." you say briefly and put the bowl aside. He watches you carefully, noticing that your movements are a little less coordinated.

He walks over to you. He places his hand on your forehead and frowns. "You're burning. We should take these layers off of you."

"As much as some women would like you to undress them, right now it's not something I want."

"Y/N." he speaks to you calmly and gently, like to a child. "You have a fever. You can't be too warm, or it will only make things worse. I'll bring you some water, and when I come back I want to see you out of this cocoon."

"And who are you, my father?" you huff, crossing your arms and tightening your grip on the blanket.

"No. I am much more. I am... your general. So do what I say."

You roll your eyes at him. Your defiant attitude would have done all kinds of... inappropriate things to him if it weren't for the fact that his main concern right now was your health. That's why he doesn't play and argue with you any longer. He takes you into his arms in one confident, sweeping movement. You squeal in shock, clinging to him, afraid he'll drop you. The blanket and coat fall off you, leaving you only in your red kefta.

"No! It's cold!" you struggle with him in his arms.

He allows you to fight him enough to stand on the ground on your own two feet, but you're still trapped in his grip. You probably would have struggled with him for a while longer (until you had completely exhausted your energy), but you both froze in place when you heard a soft grunt coming from the entrance to his tent.

"Um... general?" Fedyor looks at the two of you confused. "I have that medicines you asked about." you frown at the fact that he sent him to the village to get medicine for you. "Mal also went with the list to Ivan. They will be here with a healer the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Good, Fedyor. Well done. Leave these medications and get out of here. You are letting the cold in." he says, clearing his throat. Fedyor smiles at his reaction, clearly hearing his rapid heartbeat.

"Yes, sir." He puts the medicines on the table. "I would wish you a speedy recovery, Y/N, but under these conditions, I don't think it's really necessary. Good night." he says this and runs away from there, no longer exposing himself to the general's angry look.

He doesn't stay mad for very long. His thoughts of punishing Fedyor for his insolence quickly disappear when he hears your coughing. He looks at you tenderly and leads you to his bed.

"Here." he whispers and hands you a glass with some strange brown liquid in it.

"Aleksander, I can't drink alcohol in this state." you grumble and snuggle into his quilt, trying to create a cocoon of warmth around you again.

But he won't let you. Which is met with great protest from you.

He grabs your arms and moves you so you're leaning against the headboard of his bed, sitting down, handing you a glass, and glaring at you as he sits across from you, watching you closely. He would make you shiver if the fever didn't already make you tremble.

"Drink it. That's herb. It will help." you look at the glass warily. "What's wrong again?"

"Herbs are bitter. I don't want to drink it." you say angrily and put the glass with that damned thing on the nightstand.

"Your general is ordering you to do it. Drink." he says firmly, pushing the glass to your mouth. You purse your lips, glaring at him defiantly, at which he sighs.

If you were anyone else, he would have abandoned you a long time ago. He would leave you alone to maybe die, and he wouldn't think twice about you.

But you were his Y/N.

It changed everything. And he was terrified about how far he would go for you. There were no things he wouldn't do on your behalf—for your happiness, for your safety—only for seeing that disarming smile that lit up his centuries-worn, dark soul.

"Y/N." he whispers softly, stroking your hair. At the same time, he checks your temperature with his hand.

He frowns and presses a kiss on your forehead, cupping your cheeks with both hands. The glass is long forgotten on the nightstand as he presses his lips against your skin.

He would moan at the feeling of your silky, soft skin if you didn't have a huge fever. He found himself wishing you were warm for a completely different reason than the fever.

"Milaya, you are very sick. Drink the medicine for me, okay?" he asks gently, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he looks at you carefully. You're still shaking. You're not sure from what, as you silently nod, still staring at his dark eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you sip the medicine from the glass he holds for you without protest. He makes sure you drink it all before he gets out of bed. You instinctively grab his hand, and his heart sinks when he sees pure fear in your eyes.

"Don't go. Don't leave me alone." you whisper, your eyes staring at him so pleadingly that what else can he do but comply with your request?

He swallows and is surprised himself at how quickly he's at your side again, this time holding you in his arms, close to his chest. The idea of bringing you a cold cloth to cover your forehead flies from his mind the moment you snuggle into him for warmth. He feels like a stupid young boy again when he realises that, in another state, you wouldn't seek his closeness. He pushes away these thoughts, trying to make you as comfortable as possible as he runs his hand through your hair and brushes away the beads of sweat from your forehead.

"You're the best nurse or healer I've ever had." you whisper. Your head on his chest, eyes closed as you float with the rhythm of the breaths he takes. And seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes something break inside him.

"I haven't done this for a long time. Look after someone. I was the one who mainly took care of my sister. Our mother didn't want anything to do with her, and neither of us knew our father... so she only had me. People looked at us askance; the kids treated her like an outcast, so she was left to play with her older brother, a teenager who had no idea how to play with or take care of a six-year-old child, and a girl at that. But there was nothing I wouldn't do to make this little one happy. To give her what I didn't have… at least in a small way. Consequently, I can weave wreaths, braid braids, and other strange hairstyles; sew clothes for dolls; and make them. I played the prince on a white horse with her more times than I could count or be willing to admit."

"Black one suits you more." you comment, making him laugh quietly. "What happened to her?" you ask, opening your eyes and shifting your gaze to him.

He sighs heavily, pausing for a moment from stroking your hair as memories come back to him. And you can see in his eyes how much pain it brings him. You remember the words he said during one of your late-night conversations, when you were up late working on your reports.

The past is a wound that cannot be healed.

"She trusted the wrong people. Now she doesn't let anyone close... not even me."

"I turst you. With my life..." You wish you could hear his thoughts the moment he freezes at your words. "We all do." you add, still conscious enough not to completely pour out your heart to him. He pulls you closer to him, continuing to run his hand through your hair and press a cool cloth to your forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N." he whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

A few months ago, he would have cursed himself for letting you get so deep under his skin... Now he can't help but want more. He hates to admit it, but his mother was right.

Men are greedy creatures.

But how could he not want you more? Not to want everything you can offer him when it was you who awakened in him human feelings that he had been hiding from the world for a very long time? When could he be JUST Aleksander with you?

He checks your body temperature again by pressing his hand gently against your forehead, cheek and neck. He hums satisfied, feeling you cooler and your temperature closer to normal.

"You are cozy." you mumble as he is checking on you and you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter. There is a strange sound buzzing in your ears.

"Cozy?" he asks, amused, knowing full well that in other people's eyes he was anything but comfortable or cozy. And there you were, cuddling up to him like he was your favourite stuffed toy, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.

"Yhm..." you murmur, burying your face in his neck to sigh in his scent. "You are the best pillow in the whole world."

You hear the pounding in your head more clearly as your nose presses against his pulse point in his neck. You find this very irritating. If you were a little more aware, you would have realised that it was his heartbeat that was making it difficult for you to fall asleep. What you also don't realise is that you are using your powers on him and calming him down, causing you both to fall asleep.

The tickle on your forehead from something very soft and warm is the last thing you feel before you fall asleep. And he only had time to remove his lips from your skin before you unconsciously forced him to fall asleep, cuddled up against you.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Picture || Mister Miller

Part 2 of Mister Miller. Read Part 1 here.

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (masturbation, nudes, looking at someone’s nudes without consent, girthy age gap, boyfriend’s dad!Joel, pervy Joel, potential future infidelity, no outbreak)

Word Count: 960 words

Summary: Joel knows he shouldn’t, especially with the guilt of his shameful secret sitting heavy in his chest. But there are so many pictures of you and he is just a man.

A/N: Day 1 was so much fun! I hope everyone is having a good December. Thank you to everyone who reblogged, commented, and liked. It means a lot 🥹. Now here’s our favorite old man for day 2. Tomorrow will be my OG, the one who got me into this Pedro Pascal mess- Javier Peña... Keep a look out for more in the Masterlist. Aaaand leave your girl a comment please🥺🥺

“You should get a new one,” Matt said, typing something up real fast on his laptop.

Joel snorted and said, “Sure, I’ll sell that little computer of yours and buy myself a nice iPhone with the four cameras and shit.”

“It’s three cameras and a LiDAR scanner, dad,” he snarked, finally unlocking his spare phone and sliding it across the table to Joel.

“What’s that? Like the scanner on printers?” He asked, confused once more by technology. The kind of things that came out these days were too much for him to be able to wrap his mind around. Chat GPT, hyaluronic acid, iPads, this fucking scanner thing.

“It’s this sensor that projects invisible lasers and gets data on how far every single thing is. And that way, it can map an entire room,” he said, using gestures to mimic laser beams shooting into a room.

“Sounds like it’ll be more useful in construction. The fuck you need that for?”

He shrugged and went back to his work, the clacking of keys filling up the room once more. Whatever. He needed a spare phone to replace his shit blackberry Sarah got him eons ago. The thing had been through a lot with him and honestly, he couldn’t be too mad at it for dying on him. In all the years he had it, he had taken a few pictures here and there of his kids. But everything else in his gallery was filled with pictures of worksites. Broken pumps, proof to send clients that they were at the site that day, pictures of sample tiles to show clients… Nothing personal. It was the only thing he did on that phone other than making calls.

As he retired for the day, he thought to learn about his new old phone a little. See if the camera was any better. He propped a pillow up against the headboard and leaned back. When he finally found the camera app, he took a couple pictures of his room. Looking back at them, he was a little glad that his old phone died. The camera on this thing was better. It was newer than his old one, so maybe that was it. He didn’t have complaints about his old one, but damn this was it. It was so fucking good.

He swiped his thumb against the screen, looking at pictures, not stopping when he went back to pictures of his son. Pictures of him partying that he had never shown his old man before. He smiled, going through pictures of a side of his son’s life he never knew. Shit parents never got to see.

His heart leapt out at the next swipe, the screen filled with a picture of a nude woman.

You, he realized as he looked at the face. You had a smile on, the same sweet one you always sent him when you exchanged pleasantries and thanked him for letting you crash at his place for the summer. But the picture of you was anything but sweet.

He swiped to the previous picture, an identical one. Except you were biting your bottom lip and looking at him—at the camera with a sultry gaze. His mouth watered as he focused on your tits. Fuuuck they were good ones, he had to admit. He wasn’t a boob man. Or an ass man, frankly. He was just bad at the whole thing. But yours ignited something in him.

He found an entire album full of nude pictures of you. Pictures you posed for. There was a variety. You nude, you in bikinis, in figure hugging dresses that drove him crazier than the first category. In high heels, sideways pictures of your reflection where you stuck your ass out. One with you sucking on a fucking popsicle. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He’d told himself it was wrong. He’d found his pleasure in others. But fuck he couldn’t get his mind off of you. And now here you were, naked on his phone without your knowledge.

As he wrapped his hand around his hardening cock, he knew that he’d lost the fight. He should not be doing this. But just this once. It was his phone now after all. A justification. Weak, but it was all he had in the moment.

He pumped his cock, eyes trained on the pictures of you. He swiped back and forth between the pictures, desperate to have you in all your forms. In the cocktail dresses and the ratty old t-shirts. Wearing the bright red lipstick and the soft pink one. He imagine you, whimpering quietly the way you did that night when he found you fucking yourself in his living room.

He groaned, his cock twitching at the recollection of his creepy voyeurism. He wondered what you sounded like when you had a man. When you didn’t have to rely on your fingers, but had a good girth cock thrusting in and out. When you had a finger rubbing your clit softly. He imagined his large hand full with your breast, his lips sucking on the other one.

On your knees, right here in his bedroom, his cock in your mouth instead of in his fist. As your licked his balls with his cock deep in your throat in his mind’s eye, he exploded, coating his hand in sticky white ropes of his cum. He groaned and pulled out a few tissues, wiping off the mess you’d created.

His perverted mind imagined you still there, eagerly licking up his release. His mind was no longer pleased with such sinful images of you. The clarity that came after his orgasm tasted bitter on his tongue.

He would have to delete the photos. Tomorrow. He’d do it tomorrow.

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main masterlist

[queenie-ofthe-void]

S2.5 AU || ~2k words || rating: teen || cws: mentions of past homophobic slurs, childhood neglect

AU where Max and her Mom move to the trailer park immediately following the events of S2. It's part of a long-term WIP, but this chapter got off course so I'm posting it as a stand-alone for now.

“Fucking, Christ,” Eddie mumbles as he drags himself from his warm bed. It’s almost four in the morning, much too early on a Saturday for someone to be bothering him. Yet the knocking’s persistent, the noise growing louder and impatient as he throws a sweatshirt on. Wayne had warned him it’d be a cold night– because yeah Wayne, it’s December– but not a goddamned ice age. The space heaters are barely cutting it. He can’t imagine anyone being out in this weather unless they didn’t have a choice.

Eddie yanks the door open to find the Mayfield girl, fist hitting him in the stomach mid-knock. It doesn’t hurt but he still makes a show of it. He’s nothing if not a patron saint of the arts. “Oof Little Red, I think you left a bruise,” he grunts as he crumples forward onto the door frame. 

“Right, sure,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes. Now that Eddie’s closer, he can see the pale tint to her skin and the red flush on her nose and cheeks. She’s layered in multiple sweatshirts with a Hawkins Middle knit cap covering her ears, grey Hawkins Tigersharks sweatpants, and a stuffed backpack slung over one shoulder. Red doesn’t really look like the school-spirit kind of kid. But she does look cold.

“Want to come in?” Eddie asks. She’s barreling past him before he can finish, plopping herself down on the living room floor in front of the space heater. He moves to take the chair next to her before reconsidering. Instead, Eddie sits on the floor too, leaning up against the couch opposite her.

“The power’s out– heat too,” Red mumbles. 

“Yeah, windows are pretty shit in the trailers. It’s why we got space heaters this year.”

“Must be nice, being able to afford space heaters,” she says with a smirk, taking her mittens off and rubbing her hands back and forth in front of the heater. Eddie’s more than familiar with the self-deprecating poor jokes, so it’s no sweat off his back. “I’m Max, by the way. Not Little Red.”

“Well when newbies move into the lot across the way and don’t introduce themselves, you’ve left me no choice but to resort to outlandish nicknames.” A ghost of a smile passes her features before it’s lost to a full-body shiver. Eddie realizes that this is their first-ever conversation, despite her living in the Park for almost four weeks now. “Mama Red and Little Red: The unfriendly neighbors across the way,” he finishes the dramatics with a wide smile.

Max scoffs out a laugh “well you haven’t been exactly friendly either.” And well, she’s got him there. He’s not exactly baking cookies as a neighborly welcome.

He decides he likes her. She seems witty, quick to defend herself, and bold enough to call out bullshit. Eddie’s always been a sucker for lost sheep and Little Red is quite literally a shivering child huddled up to his hearth with no parent in sight. Like sees like and he’s almost desperate to help her.

“You know, I know the heaters are shit in the trailers-”

“That’s an understatement,” Max interrupts with another huff.

“– but if you or your mom ever need help with anything, Wayne and I are always happy to come over to check on stuff for you,” he offers. 

He watches the offer die in the air between them. Her face shutters back to the cold neutrality he’s used to seeing her wear and she moves to stand.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. There’s no warmth or meaning behind the words. Just typical middle America niceties. “Speaking of help, can I use your phone?”

Eddie nods, leading her to the kitchen. He can’t help but replay the moment over in his head, regretting that his mistake was so painfully obvious in hindsight. Offering kids like Gareth and Jeff help meant soft smiles and adoration. For a kid like Max– a kid like him– an offer of help only reminds them they’re a burden. Help is just a way of reminding them that they can’t take care of themselves. Help means weak.

How could it have been so long that he’s forgotten? He supposes he has Wayne to thank for that newfound privilege.

“Hey it’s me,” Max says in hushed tones over the receiver. She looks at Eddie and turns her back to him. He meanders over to the other side of the counter, pretending not to listen.

“Can you come pick me up?” she asks. Eddie can’t hear the response on the other end, but Max exasperatedly sighs. 

“Yes I’m fine. No, it’s not Billy, it’s just the heater.” 

She pauses, shoulders hunched, and Eddie wonders who Billy could be. The only Billy he knows is Hargrove, and he’s never seen him around here before. Thank fuck for that.

“No she’s not home. No, jeez will you listen I just need– yeah I’ve got a bag. Ten minutes? Ok yeah I’ll– wait no. I’m not home.”

She turns to glance at Eddie, and he’s too slow to look nonchalant if her scowl means something. 

“I’m at the Munson’s. Yeah– no, it’s just Eddie. Umm,” she hesitates, scanning him up and down before responding, “no he’s good. Yeah I’ll wait here.”

She hangs the phone back on the wall, crossing her arms as she looks anywhere but Eddie’s direction. He knows he fucked up, knows where he went wrong, but doesn’t know how to fix it. He isn’t Wayne. 

“My ride will be here soon,” she says to her shoes.

“Ok yeah, no big deal,” Eddie replies. “We can wait in the living room?”

Little Red shrugs, but heads back to sit in front of the space heater. It’s silent and awkward, neither of them knowing how to move past the tension. Eddie laments himself again at losing a lost sheep. Although if she has a ride, maybe she isn’t as lost as he thought.

Ten minutes feels like an eternity, but eventually headlights flash through the front windows. Max practically tips over from the weight of her backpack with how quickly she’s scrambling toward the door. And yeah, Eddie thinks she must’ve felt the same about the wait.

“Uhh, hey, thanks,” Max says, her hand already on the door handle. “You know, for letting me use the phone.”

He can fix this. He can recover. Eddie doesn’t want to acknowledge why it’s so important that Little Red feels safe here, but he’s desperate for her to know. That he’s ok and he gets it. He gets her and she isn’t alone here, like Eddie was before Wayne. He wants to help. 

What would he have wanted to hear?

“Whelp,” he says loudly, standing up from the floor, “you’re always welcome to come over and entertain me with more scintillating conversations. Perchance, on our next meeting, we could engage in the classic game of Go Fish?” He plasters on a too-wide grin, removing an imaginary top-hat and falls forward into a deep bow. An actual offer of help disguised as his own boredom, wrapped in a thick layer of sarcasm and extravagance. He’s really pulling out all the stops here.

And it works, mostly. Her mouth ticks up at the ends, matching the little spark that’s returned to her eyes. Eddie thinks that maybe for Little Red, a smirk and an eye roll is as good as it gets. He’ll take it as a win.

“Oh my god,” she laments, yet the smirk is still there. “You sound just as dorky as the boys.”

She opens the door and Eddie stands behind her, holding it open as she makes her way out. He’s not sure why he’s surprised– knows he really, really shouldn’t be at this point– to see the maroon beemer parked in front of his trailer. But here he is, standing in front of the King himself, wearing Wayne’s black and tattered Johnny Cash sweatshirt, blue buffalo check wool pajama bottoms, and his red and green Christmas fuzzy socks. He feels too visible, the headlights shining on all of Eddie’s insecurities.

But before his hackles come out, Harrington jumps out of his car and half jogs up to the front step. He takes Max’s backpack and ruffles the pom on her knit hat before she’s bounding to the car, saying something under her breath which sounds a little like “ok mom” if Eddie’s not mistaken.

“Hey Munson,” Harrington says. He’s standing at the bottom of the front porch, looking up at Eddie through the glow of the headlights. And Eddie’s pretty sure the only plebeians who have ever seen the King look this disgruntled are his many midnight conquests. Harrington’s still got a thick, red sleep indent across his left cheek. His normally styled hair is pointing in all directions, standing completely vertical on the same side as the indent. He must’ve left in a hurry too, only clad in grey Hawkins Tigershark sweatpants– same as Red, though his fit him properly– and an oversized green crewneck sweatshirt.

And no, Eddie thinks, maybe even Harrington’s midnight conquests haven’t seen him like this. The King looks less like royalty and more like the normal boy Eddie supposes he really is, underneath the All-American highschool bully varnish he must slather himself in every morning. Or at least did, before Byers and Wheeler and Hargrove got to him. 

He realizes too late that he’s been staring, caught up in the softness of a pretty face. Harrington’s shuffling his feet, blowing on his hands as he rubs them together fiercely. There’s a strong red tinge to his cheeks, almost like a blush. Almost.

“I uhh,” Harrington stutters, looking up at Eddie. “I just wanted to say thank you, for letting her hang here until I could get here.”

“It’s no problem, man,” Eddie says, “don’t worry about it.” Eddie means to sound casual, he does. Because he’s seen Harrington around. Watched him help move boxes into Red’s trailer. Watched him pick her up and drop her off everyday of the week, including most weekends. Hell, sometimes Eddie’s even witnessed an entire gaggle of children spill from the luxury car’s back seats, the lot of them yelling while Harrington tries to herd them around like an exhausted sheep dog. 

But Harrington is still The Hair, The King of Hawkins High, even if it’s not the same as it used to be. So Eddie’s voice sounds more cold and hollow than casual. Harrington might not have ever shoved him into lockers, but he brandished sharp names like weapons against kids like Eddie. He’s a freak. A fag and a queer. A loser.

Harrington cringes, almost like he can hear Eddie’s thoughts. Eddie steps back to close the door, but Harrington calls out.

“If you ever need help with anything,” Harrington calls out, “or if Max is here and needs something, just like, ask me. Call me, you can get my number from Max.” 

Help. 

Eddie bites back his instinctual reaction to tell Harrington to fuck off. Of course some hoity-toity rich prick thinks someone like Eddie needs help. 

Hypocrite he lambashes himself, before taking a slow breath in and out.

He stiffly nods, unable to actually respond without worry of snapping. 

Harrington seems to understand, nodding in return, jogging back to the car and sending a small, awkward wave from behind the steering wheel as he and Red pull out of the drive. 

Eddie crawls back into the warmth of his bed, blankets pulled tight around him. He thinks he recovered with Red rather well, in the end. Like he hasn’t lost her faith completely, which is all he could hope for. And even though he doesn’t like Harrington, he also can’t help but wonder how different his own childhood would’ve been if he’d had someone like Steve, who would’ve picked him up at a moment’s notice at four a.m. on the coldest day of winter. 

He might not have adopted a new sheep into his growing flock, but he can sleep a little better knowing she isn’t alone. Knowing Steve Harrington, of all people, seems more than willing to go out of his way for her. Almost as desperate to help a lost kid as Eddie feels, and isn’t that a thought. The Freak and the King might have something in common after all.  

[napakmahal]

Good Looking Boy (Pt 2 to Normal Girl)

Hey, so let’s pretend I didn’t fly off the face of a Earth on not update for like a month but part two is finally here. Enjoy

Tadashi was not doing well. He felt like shit and looked like it too. Ever since your argument, Tadashi had started going through a medium-grade depression. You two didn’t break up, and you still took him out after his hearing but something was off and he hated it. For the first time in history, Tadashi’s clothes were blocking the door to the boys’ bathroom. Hiro pulled on the door handle but the clothes and other crap were making it difficult to open.

“When are you gonna clean your side of the room?” He asked out of breath with a cramped hand.

Tadashi didn’t respond and just pulled his comforter closer to him indulging in shitty reality T.V. When Tadashi goes through seasonal depression, he doesn’t want to watch anything that feels like he’s working. He doesn’t want to watch a murder mystery that requires him to remember tiny nuanced details from the first episode or anything philosophical that would make him think. Enter reality television, it’s dumb, effortless, entertaining, and has in-depth recaps of what happened in case he missed something in the episode before. Hiro hadn’t realized how bad it was until he got home one day from school.

Tadashi was staring at his laptop while chewing on a piece of anti-headache mint gum. (mint helps with headaches)

“What are you watching?” Hiro untied his shoes and threw them into an unidentified corner.

“Vanderpump rules.”

It was like Hiro could hear horror movie music start playing in his ears behind someone screaming “I WASN’T YOUR BEST FRIEND HOE!” It was then he finally decided to call all of Tadashi’s friends, he needed assistance. He already had to watch his older brother self-destructively indulge in The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and Love Island every winter and he wasn’t sure either of them could take anymore.

That afternoon, Wasabi pulled up in his yellow Volkswagen with the rest of their friends. Hiro had asked them to drive around the back to the garage and meet him inside the garage. Once they were all inside, Hiro made sure to shut the door and gave everyone a small can of iced tea so they’d have something to spit out at the news.

“Okay, so why have we been summoned?” Fred cracked his can open.

Hiro took a deep breath, “Tadashi’s been watching reality shows, and it’s not December.”

“Shit, is he okay?” Gogo ran her hands through her short layered hair.

Honey urged, “Yeah what happened?”

“Have you guys ever met y/n?” Hiro brought his voice levels down. The entire group nodded, referring to meeting you at a karaoke bar where you were Tadashi’s plus one. “Alright well, I haven’t and neither has my aunt.”

“So?” Wasabi shrugged like it was no big deal because it really didn’t sound like a big deal.

“Sooo, she came by like last week and we had no clue who she was. I don’t know what happened but I know Tadashi and her got into some kind of fight and things are weird now.”

“Did they break up!?” Honey gasped.

“No, they still talk but it’s mad weird.”

Gogo pushed, “Weird, how?”

“Like they talk like strangers. ‘Hey, how are you?’ ‘Good, you?’ ‘Good, what are you doing?’ ‘Nothing, just bored. ‘Me too” over and over again.” Hiro wasn’t exactly a relationship therapist but he knew that was not normal for a girlfriend and a boyfriend that has been together as long as they had to talk to each other like that.

“Did you call her?” Fred leaned forward in his chair.

“Psh, no.” Hiro scoffed.

Wasabi asked, “Why not?”

“Because I don’t know her like that!”

Fair enough response. They knew something was going down with Tadashi when he stopped joining their group calls claiming to always be ‘tired’ and when he started leaving the lab hours earlier so he could go straight home and rot in his room. They tried, but nothing seemed to work, and he wouldn’t tell them the problem. He just didn’t want to depress anybody.

“Honestly,” Honey sighed. “I think we have to call her because I’m not so sure there’s anything we can do about it. It’s a problem between them.”

“But they do talk and it’s not going anywhere.” Hiro countered.

Wasabi backed up Honey’s point by saying, “That’s more like conversing, actually talking would be totally different.”

That night, Hiro snuck to the side of Tadashi’s room and typed in his passcode (Tadashi’s phone passcode is Hiro’s birthday and his wallpaper is an old picture of 5-year-old him sitting between his parents in the hospital bed holding onto baby Hiro with the help of his dad.) But his home screen is a picture of you two brushing your teeth in the mirror making faces with toothpaste foam all over your mouths. Hiro clicked on the messages app and sent a text.

——————————————————————————

This was so depressing. You'd been listening to a playlist with 800 different moods to it while you did your makeup to go absolutely nowhere. You hadn’t been exactly normal since the whole ‘my boyfriend didn’t tell your family about me’ thing. He’d reiterated to you that talking about boyfriends and girlfriends in the Hamada house is odd and uncalled for. You understood but still, something was off. This was the longest time you two hadn’t slept over, or just sat in your car talking for hours. You missed your boyfriend so much. But every time you talked to him it was so awkward like he was still feeling guilty over what happened. Sure it hurt but you’d accepted it and they knew you now. You’re grown, learning to accept things with peace is part of growing up. Plus it was just a familial thing and Tadashi loved his family so much. He makes fun of Hiro endlessly but he would rather die than have anything happen to him, he paid his aunt’s light bill without her knowing because he felt bad after seeing her on the phone with a tax collector, and he misses his parents so much. Once he was having a hard time picking out a suit he could wear to an internship he felt overwhelmed and he said “If my dad was here he’d help me.” Still, it still seemed Tadashi was holding back in all of your conversations.

You finished up your double-winged eyeliner and just as you were about to change Hit em up to Something Stupid, your phone dinged. Both your wallpaper and home screen was the picture a stranger took of you, your mom, and Tadashi at your mom’s graduation.

T

Hey, can we talk?

You texted back: Like rn?

T

No, in person.

Fuck. That’s never a good sign. But yet you just said: Ok, when?”

T

Tomorrow, my place. There's an opening on the side where the garage is. Knock.

These tiny sentences were starting to confuse you. Tadashi didn’t text in small sentences. He was the person who wrote grammatically correct paragraphs in text. Usually when he planned things he would tell where what time, when, where, and why he wanted to meet up. So this was starting to scare you. Regardless, you agreed to meet in person. You took off your makeup and tried to get as much sleep as possible.

——————————————————————————

Tadashi wasn’t looking much better the next day. He came down from their room hours after Hiro did. It wasn’t uncommon for Tadashi to sleep in his boxers, especially in the warmer months. But he usually puts on shorts or sweatpants before coming down. Not this time.Hiro was mid-sip of his daily emergen-c (he suffers from low vitamin C) when he saw his older brother looking like he got hit by a cable car walking down the stairs. Hair a mess, wearing a plain white shirt, his blue and white boxers, and eyes like bruised shopping bags. He looked like something Mochi coughed up.

“Good morning.” Hiro said warily.

Tadashi just groaned in response and leaned past him to get to the vitamin cabinet. When he reached to grab the large container of calcium vitamins, Hiro backed the hell up.

“Bro,” Hiro nearly whispered in disbelief. “When’s the last time you showered?”

Tadashi still said nothing and just shot his brother a dirty look. He took his calcium pill and went back upstairs to their room. It wasn’t until he sat down on his bed and stared off into space for a moment that he’d come to the realization.

“Fuck, I need to shower.” He whispered to himself.

He grabbed somewhat presentable clothes and his designated towel and went into the bathroom. Now, for those who don’t really understand depression, this may seem gross. But for a moment, Tadashi just leaned on the door and took a tired breath. Just the thought of exerting roughly 600 muscles to step into a shower, turn on the water, and scrub his entire body for roughly fifteen minutes just to scrub off bodily-secreted toxins made him feel really fucking exhausted. But he did it in the same way he did it when he wasn’t going through a depressive episode. Warm water for skin and cold water for hair. He remembered how appalled you were at seeing him just step into lukewarm water to shower and laughed when he hissed at how hot your average water temperature was.

He missed his girlfriend so much.

Tadashi just let the water run over his head without doing anything at all for like 2 minutes.

“This is so depressing.” He muttered to himself.

Some may think, ‘Dude just take a shower and quit being gross. You’re too old for this shit’ and the truth is, he’s thinking the exact same thing. So he reached for his green tea hair wash and instead of taking a normal shower, he took an everything one. It was tiring and he felt like toppling over and just rotting on the cold porcelain of the shower floor every second he was in there. But by the end at least he felt clean and smelled like classic male body wash.

Meanwhile, the time you were supposed to arrive was getting closer. Hiro was watching the clock profusely as he looked at his aunt who was just watching the Food Network and petting Mochi in her lap.

“Can we go to the mall?” He improvised.

“The mall? For what?” She looked back at him.

Shit. He needed to say something that would actually urge her to take him. “I want to look at new shoes!”

It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Hiro had been wearing the same shoes for years and the soles were detaching from the actual shoe part. The old laces were so messed up he was using the laces from a pair that didn’t fit Tadashi anymore. Why did he have to be one of the only teenage boys not obsessed with shoes?

So when he asked to look at new shoes to get, she jumped at the chance. Screaming at the top of the stairs that she was taking Hiro to the store while Tadashi finished showering.

Once they left, a feeling of satisfaction filled Hiro’s chest as he saw your car stop at the red light closest to the cafe. They drove off and you got closer to the cafe. Usually when someone texts you ‘Hey can we talk’ they’re usually about to drop an absolute bomb on them. Was he planning on breaking up with you? Shit. Maybe you could give him as many reasons you could think of and he’d change his mind? Or maybe he didn’t want to break up at all. Maybe he just wanted to see you in person. Regardless of the reason you were sweating bullets.

You walked over to the garage and started knocking on the door for him to open. You could hear him rushing towards the side door.

“What did you forget-” He opened the door expecting to see Hiro. Instead there you were with a look of concern and slight discomfort on your face. He stared at you as little droplets of water from his hair dribbled down his neck and soaked into his shirt. “H-Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Umm, you texted me.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Tadashi reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Had the days blended together so badly that he couldn’t even remember making plans to meet up with you? When he opened his messages with you, he knew exactly what happened. He didn’t text like that but you know who did? Hiro.

“Fucking Hiro.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“That makes more sense.” You let out a breathy laugh. “S-so do you like want me to go home, orrrr?”

Tadashi yelped a little too loudly, “No!- um, no. I don’t want you to leave, unless you want to go home.”

“No I’ll stay.”

Tadashi invited you inside and sat down at the kitchen island to just sit, silently thanking divine intervention for him taking a shower before you got there . A few beats and declined beverage offers later he spoke up. “So how are you?”

“Okay,” You nearly slapped your hand over your forehead. The two of you could not live like this anymore. “Tadashi, what are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” He froze.

“Just we aren’t on the same page. And that’s not us, we’re always on the same page. It’s like we’re strangers to each other. I don’t want to feel like a stranger to my boyfriend.”

Tadashi immediately went into panic mode and started reassuring you. “You’re not a stranger to me and I’m so sorry I’m making you feel that way I just-”

He stopped. You knew about his winter bouts of depression but you didn’t know the extent of how often they could happen. Nobody did. Tadashi wasn’t one to burden people and if he thought he could handle it he wouldn’t bother ask for help. He never asked for help doing projects, never asked for a ride to school, never asked Aunt Cass to turn in a library book for him. He probably should have told you about his new episode, you’d understand he knows you would and thinking about it he can’t really come up with a good reason for not telling you. Because the phrase “I just didn’t want to bother you” is horseshit no matter how true it is.

Your voice got softer as you leaned forward and touched your hand to his. “What’s wrong.”

“It’s back,” He whispered so quietly you could barely hear him. “Since our fight it’s been back and it’s getting worse.”

He didn’t need to say what “it” was. If it was seasonal depression he would call it that but it wasn’t. It was the kind of thing he got whenever his parents death anniverys came or when he just woke up randomly and couldn’t even muster up enough every to roll out of bed and onto the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cooed at him gently.

I just didn’t want to bother you. But he didn’t say that out loud, instead he just shrugged his shoulders and felt his eyes start to sting with tears. “I-I’m sorry.”

You were going to cry. You leaned forward and gave him a hug, his head resting in the nook of your neck. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Are you doing okay?”

He answered honestly. “Not really, but I’m feeling better.”

You two sat there engluphed together in silence as he listened to your pulse and you ran your fingertips up and down his spine.

Oh my good looking boy.

“Oh no, you know what I just realized.” You said still holding him close to you.

He muttered into your skin, “What?”

“We just had a communication fight.”

Fuck, you’d never had one of those before. Sure you’d get into arguments but you’d never had a problem because of a lack of communication until now. Even though you swore you would never be one of those couples. Shit just happens.

Maybe it was because he thought it was funny, or because you were the one to say it, or it was both but Tadashi started laughing. Truly laughing for the first time in weeks. His back heaved up and down as he laughed until he lifted his head from your neck and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, so much.” He whispered, loud enough just for you. Only for you.

You ran your thumbs over the skin on his face. “I love you too, okay? Always will, remember that.”

You’ll fight again eventually over whatever. But something had changed since then. Whatever it was you doubted that you would ever run into a communication problem again.

Hours later when Hiro and Aunt Cass came home they found you and Tadashi laying on the floor next to piles of folded clothes. You’d been working to help him clean his side of the room, and a three part murder mystery playing in the background.

[pinksiames]

Thought dump… Gale and Bucky ABO au

But it’s omega!Gale who’s trying everything he can to conceal the fact that he’s an omega. Dating Marge who’s a beautiful omega herself as a front, taking supplements to hide his scent and to boost a false one of an alpha. He and Marge play pretend out in public, Gale being the strong alpha that keeps his sweet omega protected and cared for. But once they’re behind closed doors they’re more like really good roommates, tending to each other’s needs when needed, being a source of comfort during their heats. That’s how it’s been since he presented. Since his father struck him with the back of his palm, swearing he’d never have a whore for a son, a breeding bitch that begs for an alpha knot.

He kept up the facade by enlisting to join the military, proving to his father that he was still strong despite his biological makeup, lying on the form of said genetic fuck up. The front show played well even when he met the strong, assertive but still kind alpha that was John Egan. Hell it was still going when everything in his fiber was screaming at him that Bucky was his alpha, that this was the man to keep him happy and sedated through life. Even after the man gave him his own goddamn name.

But he couldn’t.

Omegas were completely banned from the military, they were meant to stay home and tend to the children running amok, to wail and cry for their husband’s return. Technically that was what Marge was doing, worrying herself sick about her best friend, a man she considered her platonic soulmate. It would be a death sentence if anyone from the 100th figured out what he was. The shame and embarrassment that would come of it. So he kept it to himself, the only person who knew was a close Beta friend Marge had, she knew the whole situation and was sympathetic, supplying him with the medication he needed to keep up his front. It was good, it was great even. He had his best friend Bucky with him, a man who was completely aloof to the situation that was Gale. He had Marge back home, waiting for him, taking care of their little apartment that they called home.

Until he was shot down.

Of all the things that scared buck in that moment wasn’t the fear of death, or the fact that they’d torture him. It was the thought of them finding out what he was.

He had heard horror stories of what the Germans did to the omega men and women in their camps, keeping them separated from the rest to fuck and pleasure themselves like sex slaves. Kept them awake all hours of the night, being ran through like breeding stock. Most of them died within the month of being flagged. They were third class citizens to them.

He was smart enough to keep supplements on him when he went on missions, mostly because of those stories he heard. He had enough to last him through the autumn, but once winter hit he was screwed.

He was both relieved and anxious when Bucky arrived, his Bucky. Relieved that his best friend wasn’t dead, that he wasn’t among the piles of bodies that lay waste in the countries forests. Though it looked like he wasn’t far from meeting that grim fate. But he couldn’t help the anxiety and fear rise up in his throat knowing one of these days he’d have to tell him, once his pills ran out and his temperature spiked.

It was December when it finally caught back up to him, specifically 3 days before Christmas. He had been feeling like shit for the past week, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Most of the men here were sick as a dog or just about to be. The cold just about took everyone out, heteronormative be thrown out the window when they started sharing bunks, trying to maintain what little heat their bodies still possessed.

Gale had retired earlier that day, curling up in his makeshift bed, his muscles sore and aching, feet shuffling like his body weighed double his size. For the first time since arriving he felt the urge to peel away his layers, his skin hot like hells surface.

Bucky himself had been feeling under the weather, the chill winds weren’t of much help. But he had been keeping his eye on buck and Gale knew it. He knew when he would meet eyes with the large man, how his eyes shined with concern, seemingly growing more and more frustrated with each of gales wave off’s.

“I’m fine Bucky, there’s worse men who need to be tended to more than me. It’s just a cold.” He’d say because that’s what Gale did. Brush off his own suffering and misery while making sure the boys under his command were taken care of. He knew it wasn’t the answer Bucky wanted but it was the one he was given over and over and over again. Gale was getting worse and it showed. But he had to keep face, couldn’t slip up, or else he’d get a far worse punishment than death.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Bucky didn’t know that. It made it more confusing to him when he’d be huddled up next to Gale, chest plastered to the smaller man’s back, and a sweet, lavender smell would wave In front of his nose. It was faint, like a whisper of a kiss. But it was there, and it was coming from his buck. He kept getting little hints of it at night, lavender with traces of coffee beans, and just a dash of pine. It was an odd mix but somehow it screamed buck, made his grip on the man in front of him just a tad bit tighter.

It scared him when buck started to pull away, keeping his distance by keeping himself busy, staying cooped up in the library away from everyone else. He could hardly catch a glimpse at him most of the time, and when he did those baby blues were dull, almost lifeless. It made his heart hurt, knowing Gale was so obviously struggling with something but couldn’t show it in front of everyone. He was resentful at first, how Gale took charge and kept everyone together, while John just wandered around, making up baseball games in his head. Why was Gale able to be so calm? How come he wasn’t as affected as he was? And then he caught that glance, that empty stare. It was almost like he had accepted his fate here, that he was put here to die. He wanted to tell him that they were going to make it, that he had Marge waiting at home for him. But Gale avoided him like the plague.

When Bucky finally retired to bed he returned to his own bed, leaving buck cold and alone. He knew he couldn’t be mad at the man but it still festered in his chest. If Gale wanted to be left alone so badly so be it. At least that’s what he thought before soft sniffles and whines came from below. Guilt quickly replaced anger as he peeked over into crack between the beds and the wall. Gale was curled into himself, shivering and tears pouring down his face. He was about to give in and climb down and comfort the man under a faint, strangled moan pierced his ears. Taking a closer look he could see the sweat covering pink cheeks, drops running down his neck into exposed collarbones. He followed the trail, his eyes widening seeing hand movements under the thin blanket.

Gale was masturbating. Right here where everyone could hear him. But no one moved from their cozy spots, snores still echoing through the space. He quietly turned away from the scene, his cock rock hard in his pants. He didn’t know someone could look so-

“Bucky..” he froze. His train of thought crashing. Gale was crying out for him.

Taking another peak gale was now biting his pillow, eyes squeezed shut and back arched. There was no way.

“John..” This time it sounded more desperate, his eyes opening and a flood of tears poured down his face. Pretty baby blues shining in the moonlight. John wanted to devour him. Without another word he climbed down from his bed, heavy feet landing on the floor. Looking back over Gale wasn’t moving at all, no noise, no uneven breathing. Completely silent.

Grabbing gales blanket he shuffled his way under the cover, the heat hitting him in the face with how warm he was, and then the smell. That sweet lavender smell smacking him. Buck was an omega, and he was in the middle of his heat.

Gale looked over his shoulder at John, his face looking like a kicked puppy dog. He was shaking. In fear or of the cold he couldn’t tell. But his eyes were speaking to him.

Please don’t hate me.

John gave him a soft smile, large hand coming to rest on swollen cheeks before lowering his mouth down to gales ear.

“Let me take care of you darling.”

I was not expecting this to be this long 😭 but um enjoy ABO clegan even if it is a little wip

[iikeuz]

⋆ ☄︎. ·˚ * 🔭 STARRY EYES SPARKING UP ME DARKEST NIGHTS ࿐

⊹ ݁ ִ  ۫ You have a panic attack while promoting your solo and Seungmin helps you through it.

★☆! pairing: idol!seungmin x idol!fem!reader

★☆! warnings: descriptions of panic attacks & social anxiety. reader is a bit apprehensive about seungmin initially. mentions of criminal minds(?). mentions of hate / cyber bullying. very fluffy. open ending (part two?????)

★☆! word count: 2.4k

vivi speaks !! the way i started working on this in december of 2022 😭😭 but i’ve finally finished it, so who cares. let me know if u guys want a part 2 :), maybe i can finish it before i finish college hehe.

It’s bad. 

Like truly bad. 

This is not your first time at such event. Having debuted a while ago, you slowly got used to award shows, especially with the help of your members who are always there for you. 

Maybe that’s the issue.

You never had to make an acceptance speech, never had to be the center of attention, always letting your members take care of that — they’ve always gone above and beyond to make you comfortable during these events anyways. So now that you’re alone for the first time in what feels like ages, you simply don’t know what to do.

The anxiety mixed with the fear of embarrassing yourself in front of everyone was what led you to your current situation. Alone in a dark hallway you bite your lips as strongly as you can to stop the tears from falling and ruining your makeup — you still have to perform after all. Your head is so fuzzy that, even though you’re sitting down, you feel like you’re about to fall at any given moment, and you swear you can feel your skeleton shaking inside of you.

Your palms are sweating, but the sensation you have is that all blood stopped running in your veins. Your breath is erratic and the oxygen burns your lungs, your heart beating so fast you can feel it hitting against your rib cages, the blood running through your ears louder than your thoughts. 

As we established earlier, things are not looking good for you right now. 

You don’t even know how long you’ve been there — it could be minutes, seconds, hours. At your current state of mind, years could’ve passed and you wouldn't have noticed a change in the weather.

As matter of fact, you didn’t even notice the hallway lights turning on, let alone the person that lit them.

“Oh shit!” They cursed lowly, taken by surprise by the zombie-like girl sitting on the floor.

While they cautiously scan the body in search of any sign of life, your eyes finally pick up on the sudden clarity. Shooting your head up at an incredible speed, your eyes meet with a slightly scared Kim Seungmin.

Your slowler-than-usual brain takes a moment to kick in, finally warning you that you should get your shit together — especially in front of your senior —, and so you do, getting up way faster than expected. Your vision goes completely black for a second or two, making you bow lower than intended.

“Hello.” You greet him, your vision still not completely back as your upper body goes up once again. 

Trying to find some kind of stability, you reach for the nearest wall to lean against. Scared that you might fall and hurt yourself, Seungmin runs to you, firmly grabbing both your shoulders before pulling your waist, stabilizing your dizzy self against his chest. 

In any other scenario you would probably push him away and call him a creep, but now you reserve yourself to accept the help without second guessing his true intentions. 

“Woah! Calm down,” His voice is still low, not much higher than a whisper, “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

Once your vision goes back to normal you separate yourself from the boy, who reluctantly lets you go, not leaving too much space between the two of you just in case. 

Averting his gaze, you try to fix your eye makeup to look a little more presentable. “Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I just-” You stop yourself for a moment, your brain cells working extra-hour to come up with something to say. A pathetic “I’m fine,” is the best you can manage to do.

“You don’t seem fine to me.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I am fine.” You immediately bite back, sounding way more defensive than intended, instant regret kicking in for being such a bitch to someone who was just trying to help. “i’m sorry…” you whisper.

Seungmin, on the other hand, didn’t seem offended one bit by your hostility, no. He was way more focused on finding out what was going on. 

Trying to make you feel more comfortable, he was quick to change the subject. “Aren’t you, uh…” He stops, waiting for you to introduce yourself to him.

As your foggy mind goes into autopilot once again, you bow for a second time, formally introducing yourself and your group for him. 

Seungmin can’t help but chuckle at your excess of formality. “There is no need for all of this, we’re basically the same age.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

And so, the small talk dies silent. 

You force yourself to come up with something to say, but nothing comes to mind. What are you even supposed to say in a moment like this? It’s not like the two of you had ever talked before. Yeah, some of your members are close to the Stray Kids’ boys, it’s true, but you personally never really talked to anyone outside your own label — screw it, you’ve barely talked to anyone outside your own group. 

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse, your palms start to sweat again, the fear of having another panic attack in front of Seungmin becoming a trigger to you. Sharp nails scratching against the skin of your thumb.

The boy picks up quickly on what’s happening, bringing your attention to him once again. “Hey,” He straightened himself, taking a couple steps past you, near the end of the corridor, “wanna see something cool?”

Not wanting to be rude, you nod. And so he kept going, with you right behind him (well, not exactly right behind, since there was so much your trembling legs could do right now; still, you felt like you weren’t going that slow — even though it took you 30 extra seconds to get to the end of that 2 meters corridor).  

When you got there, you noticed that there was only a big metal door with a handwritten ‘Authorized People Only’ sign taped to it. You were about to ask him if this was the right place when Seungmin opened said door.

“No one comes here, don’t worry.” He explained.

Holding the door with one arm, he motions for you to go in. 

Obviously, if you were in your right mind, this whole thing would be the biggest red flag ever (a man you don’t know being weirdly touchy with you and then inviting you to go to a secluded area where “no one goes to”? You’ve watched way too many real crime videos to fall for that), but since you’re not in the best of your judgment at the moment, you obey his orders without thinking twice. 

Your friends know him, what’s the worst that can happen? 

Looking around a bit, you couldn’t be less interested. The room seemed like a technical room, filled with tangled wires connected to some sort of power walls. Is this Seungmin’s definition of a “cool place”? If so, that’s pretty anticlimactic.  

“What is this place?” You ask as the door behind you closes by itself, making a heavy sound, the room immediately becoming pitch black.

Seungmin turns on his flashlight, the position making the bright light hit you right in the eyes; you wince in discomfort, covering your face. “Sorry,” He repositions the cellphone, pointing to the floor instead of your face, “This is just a wire room, for some lights and special effects,” He shrugs, moving the cellphone around like he searched for something. 

“Hmm,” You nod, looking around once again. “So… what are we doing here?” 

“Oh, this is not the cool place, silly,” He laughs. Pointing the flashlight to his right, you follow the light’s path, surprised as you notice the emergency stair at the wall, “it’s up there.” 

Seungmin gets closer to the stairs, you follow him. He takes a moment to decide if it was better for you or him to climb first, opting to have you staring at his ass instead of the contrary. And so he puts his cellphone in his pocket and goes, as you blindly follow him once again, struggling to climb in your stage outfit. 

At the top, he pushes the trapdoor open and climbs in, helping you to do the same. Once you stabilize your boots on the floor, you take a moment to look around. You’re at the rooftop, as you expected. The cold air of the early winter hits you like a train, making you hug yourself by instinct as shivers run through your body, the tiny, sleeveless dress you’re using doing absolutely nothing to help. Looking up at the sky you can actually see a couple stars here and there. 

“Wow! It’s beautiful,” You say under your breath. 

Seungmin, who was already looking at you, can’t help but notice how your eyes shine just as bright as the stars. Taking his denim jacket off he places it on your shoulders, using the proximity to guide you closer to the edge. Looking down, you can barely see the people walking on the streets, they all look so tiny from here, like the world below you is just a model; a colony of ants.

So tiny, so delicate.

It really makes you wonder how such delicate species can be so mean. So terrifying. So heartless. The things you’ve seen, you’ve read, you’ve heard; they couldn’t possibly have come from them, could it? After what felt like a life of being submitted to so much inhumanity, you start to question what “being a human” truly means. 

If it’s the ability to feel empathy for others that separates us from the other species, what will be left of us if it’s all gone?

When your grip on the metal bar tightens, Seungmin decides it is time to intervene. “I was listening to your song on my way here,” Seungmin admits, “well, it was Felix who put in on the car’s speaker, but you know. I really liked it.”

Your head spins at him, your gazes meeting for a second before you avert it. “Oh, uh, thanks. It was my first time writing- I mean, not my first time, I’ve written things before, but I never felt like it was good enough. I always thought I was better at composing rather than writing, you know?! But this time it was just… I don’t know. I had this idea in my mind, and the words kept coming so I wrote them down and, well, the rest is history.” You shrug, beating yourself mentally for talking too much. 

“I really like your writing style. It’s very unique, just like you.” His attempt at flirting makes you laugh for the first time that night, and when Seungmin hears your shy giggles turn into a full laugh, he can’t help but laugh too. “Yah, why are you laughing?!” He pretended to be offended. 

“You’re so corny.”

“I’m not corny, I’m romantic.”

Romantic? You can’t lie, that pulled at your heart strings a bit. 

Still, you roll your eyes at him, trying to convey annoyance, your smiley face totally giving you away, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Romeo.”

“Oh c’mon, it was pretty smooth, at least give me that!”

“Alright, alright. It was pretty smooth, I admit,” You threw your hands in the air, defeated. 

You turned around in your heels, back pressed against the railing. “So, how’d you find out about this place?!” 

“I’m just nosy.” He shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, I believe that.” 

Seungmin scoffed. “I saw the ‘authorized people only’ sign and came in.” 

“You were coming here when you… found me?” 

“Yes.”

“Any reason why..?” 

“You’re also very nosy, aren’t you missy?!” 

You laugh, giving the boy besides you a playful slap.

Seungmin laughed too, averting his gaze, “I just like coming here before a performance. Helps unwind the tension. It’s kind of a ritual of mine at this point.” 

You nodded. This time, the silence that formed between you two was comfortable. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the moment, without worrying so much about, well, everything. 

Seungmin didn’t say anything either. 

You two stayed like this for a while, just enjoying the cold breeze hitting you two. You wondered if he was cold like you, and you even thought of offering his jacket back, but it was just so warm (and it smelled so good). 

After a minute or two (more like several), you opened your eyes again, lookin at your side where Seungmin stood. He leaned over the rails, hands clasped together as he looked up at the sky. 

There were no direct lights up here, so it was up to the moon to provide some light for you two. As you look at Seungmin, you notice the way his eyes reflect the moonlight. It was like he held a moon in each of his pupils, only for him, like some sort of mystical being. A kind of God who has moons for eyes and the kindest heart. 

God what am I thinking?

You shook your head, laughing at yourself. The melodic sound of your laugh perked his attention, his head turning to you, his smile mimicking yours. 

“What?” He asked. 

You looked back at him, shaking your head. For the first time that night, the two of you held eye contact for more than a couple seconds. 

“I think I should get going…” You say. There is a hint of sadness in your voice, your eyes never leaving his. “My manager probably already called the cops the second she saw I wasn’t in the dressing room.” 

Seungmin nodded, his expression turning down. He didn’t say anything. You wondered if you should say something, but decided against it. 

It wasn’t until you were already halfway through the roof that you turned back, running back towards Seungmin, who was now resting against the railing watching you go. When you got to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug, catching him by surprise. 

When the shock wore off, he engulfed your much smaller figure in his arms, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your giant smile against him. 

“Thank you, Seungmin.” 

“Y- You’re welcome.” 

You let go of him, really leaving this time around. 

As you climbed the stairs back down still wearing his jacket, your heart was pounding again, but now for totally different reasons. And your mind couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of a great friendship, or perhaps something more was to come out of it…

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 24

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Just want to say thank you to all of you who have joined in on this series in the last week. There is so many of you now! Hope you're enjoying it! This week is a smaller one, but I can promise you will not be disappointed with some of the stuff you will find out. Enjoy!

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

It feels like I blink and December flies by. And with it, the return of challenges. We had been given a break around threshing. Giving us time to adjust to our dragons, the new training we had to take up, and any signets that might manifest. Which was probably a smart idea. There were plenty of signets amongst the first years that could have been deadly if they manifested in a challenge where no rules were in play. I hate to think what my signet would have done if it manifested during a challenge.

But now I had the challenge of not using my signet during the challenges. With a classified signet I was restricted in what I could show around the other students. The only place I was technically allowed to use my signet was around Carr. So far he seemed impressed with the progress I was making. Well the progress I was willing to show him. Which so far was moving objects and even him around. Controlling a human was way harder than an object. That night of the attack had seemed so easy, but Carr had informed me due to the situation I had probably delved deep into my power to save myself. I had made that cadet drop that dagger as if it was natural and something I had willed. Carr was a different story. He looked like a puppet. His movements were janky and rigid. I had to remind myself I was also going up against someone who knew how to shield very well. Another thing I would have to learn to break through he told me. Something I would have to practice with Xaden or Garrick in our training sessions after classes. Outside of Carr’s private sessions I now no longer needed to delve into my mind, into that courtyard to focus on someone’s mind and sense what they were feeling. I was starting to pick up on more their strengths, weaknesses and emotions. I was getting small glimpses into their mind. Nothing solid that I could pinpoint what it was, but it was progress. Progress I hoped I could turn into reading opponents intentions. Not that I needed it. Melgren’s training had taught me how to read my opponents movements and stances, to predict what their next move might be. But only time would tell.

As the rest of my squad head to another round of challenges, a round I could tell Violet and Liam were extremely nervous about, I walk through the door to Carr’s classroom. And it’s clear this lesson will be different to the last. Standing in front of Carr is Dain Aetos. The only other cadet in the quadrant with a classified signet. Dain turns as I walk in, his eyes narrowing, clearly not expecting me either.

”Excellent, you received my note.” Carr says with a smile. “You’ve proven you can handle a weapon without any issue so I thought we could use the time to strengthen your signet and test Dain’s.”

Dain turns his head back to Carr, confusion written all over his face. “And how do you expect to test me sir?”

Carr gives Dain one of the smiles that always sends a chill down my spine. “Miss Riorson here has a very very rare signet. The first of its kind. And if the tomes I have studied over the years are anything to go by, she should have a very powerful shield. One so powerful, it should be able to stop anyone from accessing her mind.”

Shit. He planned to see if Dain could access my memories. And if Carr was wrong, Dain would have open reign on everything I know. Everything from the rebellion. Everything from my time with Melgren. And everything that had happened since I had been here. Including the information I now knew about the weapons smuggling and the Gryphon riders. Shit.

Relax. You will be fine. He will not be able to get anything. Mealladh says confidently in my head.

So Carr is right? I ask, relief washing over me.

Yes. You have a very strong shield. Even before I chose you and you manifested your signet. It is one of the reasons I chose you. No one without a dragon or a signet should have a shield as strong as yours. The colonels son wont be able to make a dent in it unless you let him in. Which for you, can be harder than learning to shield for most cadets. You won’t have to do a thing.

Mealladh’s words fill me with confidence as I walk over and drop my bag next to Dain’s on the floor. Carr merely nods at Dain and motions towards me. Signalling to start. Carr had not uttered a word of Dain’s signet. He assumes I don’t know what it is. Probably hoping if he is wrong that I will have no time to stop what is coming. But Xaden and Garrick had known. I assume as those higher up in the Quadrant they had access to the information. I had never asked how they knew. I just knew to avoid his touch. But right now I had no choice. I just had to hope and believe what Mealladh said was true.

Dain turns to me and holds his hands up, hovering either side of my head. He’s nervous. “My signet relies on touch. You ok if i-”

”Just do it.” I tell him sternly, cutting him off.

Dain nods before placing his hands either side of my head, closing his eyes as if needing to focus. But I keep mine open and focused on him. I watch as his eye brows furrow in confusion, as if not expecting what he finds. Or what he doesn’t find. I can feel something faint, very faint at the edge of my mind. The sensation remind me of a feather being dragged across my skin. I hadn’t tried to put my shields up like Melgren taught me. It was like they we’re already there. Already solidified in place. Unbreakable. I feel the sensation again, as if the feather is trying to break through. I can see Dain’s face shift at the effort. As if he is trying to hammer through my shield with great force. But to me, its as if barely anything is happening. I do what Melgren had taught me, slamming up the shield. I watch as Dain recoils as if shocked, his hands leaving my head as his eyes fly open, his chest rising rapidly as he struggles for air.

”I-I couldn’t see anything.” He tells Carr, his eyes still focused on me.

Out of the corner of my eyes I watch Carr smile again. “And let me guess, you tried to put up an actual shield at the end there?” His question directed at me.

I nod. “Yes.”

Even as I keep my eyes on Dain who looks like he is still trying to figure out what happened, I see the joy in Carr’s eyes. The joy at being right. I know as soon as I leave this room he will send word to Melgren of this new discovery. I had no doubt I would be tested against other cadets in the quadrant who bore mental signets. But I knew none we’re as powerful as Dain. The only exception might have been Jeremiah. Could a full innistic penetrate my shields? I would have no way to know seeing as the quadrant killed anyone who manifested that signet.

”Excellent. You are both dismissed. Feel free to head to challenges if you so wish.” Carr says with a flick of his had before turning to his desk and grabbing a roll of parchment. Another note of Melgren.

Dain and I leave the classroom, Dain rushing off towards the challenges. I roll my eyes before following slowly behind him. Maybe I can catch the challenge Liam and Violet we’re so worried about. As I go to round the corner to the gym, a voice in my head stops me in my tracks.

Shit. He’s gonna kill me cause she got hurt. Shit.

A voice that is neither mine nor Mealladh. It sounds almost like-

I round the corner and pacing back and forth is Liam. Liam whose voice I just heard inside my head

Part 25

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books

[solarmorrigan]

💘 for the writing game!

Hello! I definitely have to thank you for this prompt because I think it might be my favorite of all the fills I got to write for this meme (although I maybe got a little carried away) <3

Call this one a modern AU, probably. CW: emotional abuse, briefly mentioned homophobia, Steve just has a shitty family

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

Prompt from this list

-

So Eddie’s maybe been laying it on a little thick.

That’s his excuse, anyway.

It’s just – it’s possible he’s gotten a little carried away; while the idea had been for him to accompany Steve for moral support to the annual three days of torture that are his visits home for Christmas, Eddie’s priorities had shifted a little with the last phone call he’d overheard Steve taking from his mom.

Something-something-I hope you’ve found someone to bring home with you, Steven-something-something-your cousin already has a baby on the way-something-something-such a disappointment to see you alone, Steven-something-something.

Steve had looked so small and sad after talking to her, the way he always does after talking to her, and Eddie wishes his parents’ approval (or lack thereof) didn’t hold such a sway over Steve, not when they don’t deserve that kind of respect, but he also gets it – family is complicated. So instead, Eddie offers Steve a way to shove his parents’ faces in it.

Instead of showing up in a strictly platonic, friendly-like capacity, he offers to play Steve’s boyfriend for the holiday.

And since Steve is the same brand of crazy as Eddie (even if he buries it better), he accepts.

So from the moment they pull up in front of the Harrington house the morning of December twenty-fourth, Eddie plays the doting boyfriend to a tee. He holds Steve’s hand, he kisses him on the cheek, he snuggles up to him on the sofa; he plays nice with Steve’s homophobic grandfather, and is only a little snarky with Steve’s patronizing uncle, and talks Steve up every chance he gets.

So yes, he’s laying it on a little thick, but Steve’s family should think he has a partner who adores him.

Because Steve deserves a partner who adores him.

(Because Eddie does adore him. Which is – well, that’s probably part of the problem.)

It doesn’t work as well as Eddie had hoped it would, in the end. Steve’s family can’t fault him for being “pathetically single” anymore, but they can pick him apart in literally every other respect – and they do.

He takes it like a pro, letting the nasty, pointed comments roll off him, smooth and brittle as glass, never causing a scene or biting back, because it’s Christmas and apparently this is just how they celebrate.

(They mostly ignore Eddie, acting like he’s beneath them, which has Steve sending apologetic glances his way the whole day, like Eddie is the one who needs an apology when Steve is the one being vivisected by his family.)

Steve just holds in whatever he’s feeling until they’ve retired for the night, up in the guest room that used to be his room, that his mom had apparently barely waited until he’d moved out to start converting.

He holds it in and holds it in until the door shuts behind them and he all but collapses on the edge of the bed, crumpling in on himself like the ugly plaid duvet is crumpling underneath him, with his shoulders curved in and his face covered and his chest heaving with what are maybe supposed to be calming, deep breaths but are definitely not working, because the stress is still coming off him in waves.

And like Eddie said: he’s maybe gotten a little carried away with his role, but it just feels completely normal to go right to Steve, to curl his arms around him and pull him in close and remind him that his family’s opinions aren’t worth shit and that Steve is so good, and–

And when Steve uncovers his face, a little blotchy and pulling tight with the effort not to let any tears flow free, it just feels completely normal to press a kiss to his cheek, and another to the corner of his mouth, and another to his lips, all in quick succession, all soft and reverent and reassuring.

Eddie freezes the moment he’s pulled back. The moment he realizes what he’s just done.

“Eddie,” Steve murmurs into the still air between them, “there’s… no one watching right now.”

You don’t have to do this, he means.

“I–” Eddie’s voice gets caught up in his throat, because his brain is screaming at him to play it off, to tell Steve that he just got carried away, got too into the role – but his heart, noisy fucker that it is, has different ideas. “I… maybe haven’t been faking as much as I said I was. Or, like– at all.”

“Oh, thank god,” Steve breathes, and then he’s pushing back in for another kiss, his mouth eager and warm and perfect against Eddie’s.

And the next two days aren’t going to be any less stressful, spent around a flock of hungry vultures masquerading as people, but Eddie figures that if nothing else, at least one good thing will have come from the holiday.

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss and Steve opens up beneath him, anticipating him like they’ve been doing this for ages, and – yeah, Eddie decides.

One very, very good thing.

[blue-disco-lights]

✨ weekly tag wednesday ✨

I love this week's theme since i get to talk about this fandom and all of you 💕 thank you @jrooc @lingy910y @creepkinginc @energievie @doshiart

@suzy-queued @mybrainismelted @deedala for the tag! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

how did you get into the fandom? I learned about gallavich in a subreddit, where i hung out for a while until it started to get real toxic (too much mickey and debbie critique in there for me!). from there, i wandered to twitter, met some lovely people and that led me here to tumblr!

how long have you been here? since December 2021

what's the first fandom channel you found? (youtube, reddit, tumblr, insta, twitter, FB, other?) well as i have massive fomo, i’ll see you on most of them. but reddit was first.   

what's your favourite now? tumblr and discord

which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom? i think it’s @silvanshadow and @samantitheos from twitter! I was verrry shy to interact at all but you were both friendly and fun to talk to :)

which tumblerinos did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know? the two above, but also @palepinkgoat @notherenewjersey @ms-moonlight-inn @gallawitchxx (blush but also HI 🩵)

first gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)? 

Conflict of Interest by @vitalspark (is incredible) and was the first story i  left a comment on back in December ‘21 and that just started it all. 

That and You Deserve Good Things by @chat-noir12 and Like Real People Do by @gallavichy were the first I bookmarked - i remember reading those stories and just sitting in shock about how GOOOD these stories were. It was just unbelievable to me at the time. Thinking how did I go through covid times without them and generally, my whole adult life without fan fic??

first fan art that blew your mind? This is such a tough one there are SO many - but probably something by @steorie (here) @filorux (here) @psychicskulldamage (here)  

And here's a favorite from @doodlevich (here)

fanfic trope that you were sure wasn't for you but now you low key (or high key) love? never thought much about fake dating tropes, but there some great stories with that one what surprised you most about this fandom? this fandom IS SO kind, friendly and open. And the TALENT. I still can’t really believe what you all create - here’s a masterpiece I made at home on a Tuesday night, a free gift, please enjoy. you're all amazing 🤩

moment in the show (or YT vids if you're one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with gallavich? “Don’t” - definitely. my showtime app has never had that much rewind and playback action. 

ian or mickey? oh but that’s a hard one. gotta be Mickey - i dont remember ever connecting with a TV character like this. the sass, the one-liners, the development, the facial expressions.  I could go on, but you all know. 

which gallagher or milkovich are you? maybe Sandy? I admire her for being a cool cucumber who just happens to land in the messiest, most chaotic family and seems to really enjoy having a front row seat!

tagging everyone up ⬆️ there if you'd like and would love to hear all of your stories friends: @sweetbee78 @ian-galagher @transmurderbug @spookygingerr

@solitarycreaturesthey @sgtmickeyslaughter @mmmichyyy @too-schoolforcool

@transsexual-dandelions @sleepyfacetoughguy @rereadanon @heymrspatel @michellemisfit

@darlingian @thepupperino @vintagelacerosette @mickeysgaymom @krysmiss

@callivich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @gillyp @bawlbrayker @crossmydna

@jessieoneday @em-harlsnow @reganmian @heymacy @gallavichsuperfan

@depressedstressedlemonzest @gallapiech @spacerockwriting @wehangout @burninface

[penny00dreadful]

So... some of you may have noticed my fics have come to a screeching halt the last couple of months which is not like me and I am here to explain myself.

Babygirl, I have been preparing.

The end of this month is my 1 year anniversary of posting in this fandom, of posting any of my work online after not doing it for like fifteen fucking years and it has brought me so much incandescent joy, I decided I had to do something for it.

(I've also hit like... several milestones which is fucking insane like you all know I'm just some cranky bog witch, right??)

I have been working on my WIPs for over the last two months. All... holy mother of god... like nine of them???

Some of these have been completed, some I am still writing and some are mostly done.

So starting from my anniversary date, 23rd October, every second or third day, I'll be posting a chapter of something.

I have so much material built up this shit could go on until 2024

@hbyrde36 called it my own personal Penny00Dreadful BigBang... and yeah kinda! 😅

I wanted to do this to show just how much I love this community. Your kind words, your support, your unhinged ramblings, your obsessive love, your talent (for free??) it's all amazing it's so amazing and I wanted to explode forth with my love for it so I figured why the fuck not do this stupid idea??😅

All of these will be posted both to tumblr and AO3 so subscribe over there to keep updated or follow me here!

OH! And let me know if you wanna be tagged! If you wanna be tagged for a specific fic or for everything I'll add you, whatever you want.

You've made me so happy and so warm for the last year. The way I know if I'm having a bad day I just need to hop onto this side of tumblr and everything will be peaches and gravy again.

I love you guys so much. 😘🖤

Updated Schedule - (18th Feb 2024)

Fic list with blurbs below the cut, this will (roughly) be the order they're posted in:

Return of The King - COMPLETE

Steddie Vampire AU with a twist! Vampire Steve comes back after falling to the bats. There is two more chapters left and those chapters have been completed.

Comeuppance - COMPLETE

Dustin just wants Steve to be happy. So he tries to parent trap him with Nancy. Clearly they should be together. But Steve's heart doesn't even seem to be in it at all! How is he so bad at this? And Eddie is being less than helpful

Rookie Mistake - COMPLETE

My Steddie Established Relationship Spies AU oneshot that will have a multi-chapter prequel fic coming very soon after!

Eddie is "retired" and Steve has been injured on the job, so he's supposed to be taking it easy. How hard could a walk to the gas station be?

Before He Cheats - COMPLETE

Songfic! Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats

I literally have no excuse for this one. The rotted brainworms were behind the steering wheel with this one.

One evening, Eddie gets a call from some guy named Steve dropping the news on him that his boyfriend has been cheating on him. With this Steve person and Steve had no idea up until that day.

And Eddie rarely takes that shit lying down.

Steddievember Smut - COMPLETE

No Nut November is here! One can play however he wants. The other just has to wait for December to roll around. I have no other words to describe what this will be, it does what it says on the tin. I blame the STWG discord server. Currently we're looking at four little ficlets for this.

Cat and Mouse - COMPLETE

The Steddie Spies AU Prequel! How they got together and the extreme ups and downs their enemies/rivals to lovers journey goes through. I had so much fun with this one.

And They Were Roommates! - COMPLETE

omg they were roommates.

Steve and Eddie don't hate each other exactly. They just... tolerate each other. But one night Eddie doesn't come home for hours. Long after he's supposed to and it's not like Steve is worried or anything... he's just... concerned for a fellow human being... that's all.

Through The Valley - IN PROGRESS

Post-Apocalyptic AU. Eddie, Dustin and Nancy have a nice little community of survivors outside of Hawkins that they take care of, surviving day to day. Everyone's a little broken, missing the rest of their Party just hoping that one day they'll find each other again.

Devotion

Dungeons and Dragons AU. Steve is the golden boy of the small town of Hawkins. Harrington in name and now a Paladin with his very own oath to hunt down the Bard, the witch Eddie Munson and bring him back to justice under High Priest Henry Creel.

[pjohoo-reclists]

30k+ Alternate Universe Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase Fic Recs

Request: Looking for a (preferably) long Percabeth story. Anything goes: something wholesome, smut, comfort story etc.

I tried to stick to wholesome/comfort stories, and ended up with an entire list of alternate universe fics. None of these are set in the PJO universe. They're all fairly long, over 30k each. Enjoy!

The Sweetest Sounds by timelesslords

G | 31k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Alternate Universe Fantasy, Protective Percy Jackson, Mistaken Identity

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Annabeth asked, looking up at him. He looked back at her innocently. It seemed genuine, which only confirmed Annabeth’s suspicions. “Why do you say that?” he asked. His eyes were really a distracting shade of green. “Most people from here know better than to show me kindness,” Annabeth said, beginning to walk down the road again. He started walking again too. “I think everyone deserves kindness." *** Or, a Cinderella AU (loosely) based on Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella (1997)

Merry Chrysler by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss

T | 32k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

It’s the twelfth of December and Annabeth is drunk. She’s not sure who’s apartment she’s in and she lost Piper about half an hour ago. She’s taken up residence on a very comfy couch and has resorted to people watching. Annabeth has been staring at the lights on a girl’s reindeer sweater for perhaps five minutes when a body slumps down next to her. She looks over to find her best friend, Percy, blinking at her sadly. She reaches over and pats his head. “What’s wrong, Pineapples?” “I’m gonna spend Christmas alone."

Game, Set, Match. by ananbeth, blackjacktheboss

M | 44k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Secret Relationship, Friends with Benefits, Athlete Percabeth

“We should probably make some rules.” Percy has regained control over his expression, he looks back with a raised eyebrow and a contemplative expression. “Rules?” “So this doesn’t get messy.” “Okay. So, we should be honest with each other, right? No lying or whatever.” “Right. That includes if we start feeling things.” “Things?” “You know, like, emotions and shit.” “Such a way with words.” “Fuck off.”   Or, that one where Percy and Annabeth are pro tennis players and decide to hook up. Annabeth wants rules, Percy gets too attached. What's new.

Sugar, Sugar by perseannabeth

T | 50k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Jason Grace/Piper McLean

Chocolate Store AU, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Annabeth Chase doesn't have a sweet tooth, she isn't a big fan of chocolates but there is a small chocolate store that might change her mind. Falling in love in a chocolate store was Piper's love story, not hers but things could change when a green-eyed chocolate maker enters her life. Piper McLean didn't expect to run into the (possibly) love of her life while she was buying chocolates still in her pajamas, but one smile from him and she was a goner. Between dating and working, she still finds time to hang out with her best friends and, even if Annabeth didn't want her to be, be a wingman for Annabeth.

and they were roommates by bipercabeth

T | 76k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Alternate Universe College/University, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

oh my god they were roommates It had been a throwaway comment, really, when Annabeth had suggested that she and Percy get an apartment together for college.

Spellbound by writergirl8

M | 91k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Jason Grace/Piper McLean

Hogwarts AU, Domestic Bliss, Married!Percabeth, Teacher!Percy

Percy always thought the most bewitching thing he could discover at Hogwarts was magic. Then he met Annabeth Chase.

just practice by knuffled (bigscary)

T | 95k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Angst

“So I’m taking you on dates and stuff, but we’re not actually together?” “Yeah, exactly. It’s just practice,” Annabeth said, nodding. “Just practice,” Percy echoed. “Just practice,” Annabeth confirmed. Percy locked eyes with her silently for a few seconds before he took a long sip of his milkshake. “Do we have a deal?” Annabeth asked. “We have a deal,” Percy said.

I Got a Boy by flyingcrowbar

T | 137k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Alternate Universe High School, Secret Identity, Fluff and Humor

Bolt Academy has everything: prestige, affluence, renown. Almost every world leader, CEO, athlete, and have stepped through its doors. Problem is, it’s only for boys. But it’s the only school with the most challenging architecture program in the country. What else is Annabeth Chase supposed to do? Desperate to achieve her dream of becoming an esteemed architect, she cuts off her long curls, binds her chest, and goes by the name of Andy - the newest male student on campus. Now she must travel the dorms, the locker rooms, even the hallways with her secret. It’s smooth sailing, that is until Annabeth’s roommate Percy Jackson - a nationally ranked freestyle swimmer - starts to have feelings for Andy. Coming to understand his sexual orientation, Percy navigates a campus filled with homophobia and hate crimes, all while every day taking a step closer to competing in the Olympics. Around every corner lies an opportunity for sabotage, and Percy has a target on his back. But when Percy discovers the secret that Annabeth has been keeping, hard choices must be made and neither are willing to let the other give up on their dreams. An interpretation of “She’s the Man” and the Korean drama “To the Beautiful You.”

The Long Game by captainjackson

E | 293k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Annabeth Chase & Connor Stoll, Percy Jackson/Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Alternate Universe College/University, Mortal AU, Olympics AU

With the Summer Olympics less than four months away, Annabeth Chase and her beach volleyball teammate, Piper, are right on track to being invited to represent the United States in Athens. But that level of premiere athletic training doesn't come cheap and Annabeth is running out of options— so when a University administrator reaches out with an unexpected opportunity, she'd be a fool not to leap at it... right? Suddenly, Annabeth and Percy — a young hotshot swimmer — find themselves at the center of a media charade that dredges up secrets that were supposed to stay buried. With the world watching, Annabeth is forced to face her past and take control of her future as she learns that, sometimes, life is all about playing the long game.

[louisisalarrie]

can u explain what happened with tamara bell and louis during glastonbury 2015?

well, there’s probably far better posts about this, but I’ll give it a quick go. welcome to the show, baby cakes

tamara is proven to be a good friend of Harry’s. photo below of them YEAAAARSSSS ago

and this is a photo of her, lux, and lou Teasdale, also mates

so the thing is, is that, from these photos… you could go “oh harry set louis up with a hot pal hes known for years” and like… that’s exactly what the media ran with. They constantly linked harry and Tamara as friends, (funny how he fucks everything that moves but not her, right?) and harry being the matchmaker of her and louis. Anyway, she’s been around for a while, and she’s cool and hot and brunette… wait… why is it important that she’s brunette? why did it have to happen in June 2015?

Oh! That’s right! Because bbg rumours started to get even worse. There was already SO much seeding and shit in the media about louis and B, and what kind of relationship they had. It’s like that time the “mystery blonde” article started circulating, and louis went clubbing and got into a van full of brunettes so none of them could be mistaken for B, lol. She probably should’ve realised and dyed her hair (which she eventually did LOL). But I digress

The whole bbg thing was supposed to look a lot more… wholesome, than what louis made it. I believe it was meant to be more of a “Louis’ found the love of his life and they’re expecting yay!” Kind of thing because he was always pinned as the long term relationship guy, aka, the exact opposite of Harry styles™️. However, idk how tf they were gonna push that bc his breakup with E was announced officially on March 23rd, and B only really came into the picture between May 5th and 15th. So…….. Less than two months with B, if there was no crossover (which they wouldn’t want anyway) and it was immediately straight after E, they still wanted to push the wholesome baby settle down mature dad version of louis. And you know what he did? He said fuck you Uncle Simon.

So, to entirely get rid of ANY speculation he was with B romantically/engaged which was the narrative, he walked around with brunettes to really push home the point there was nothing there with B, even if bbg went through. So, he threw himself under the tour bus. He essentially said “hey this’ll make me look like more of a prick but also stops me from being around that woman even if the kid thing happens, and therefore it distances me from it and I won’t be in a long term thing again”… more or less. This is why we also got a short Danielle fling in December of that year, just to push home the point that he wasn’t with B or any kind of “mystery blonde” that they could mistake her for. Which is, for lack of a better term, HILARIOUS

And also this was hugely important because for a very long time, we didn’t actually know what B looked like. She changed every time we saw a pic of her from the media. So it was really confusing which blonde they were talking about, so he made it clear to make a point of being with brunettes only. And Tamara, well, she’s just a cool fucking human. Old friend of Harry’s, chill, a model with a small following, just overall a kind of cool person. So he chose to walk with her and lazily hold her hand to cut any ties with B that the media continued to create. So, he’s known her for ages, and so has harry, and it was nothing, but it made a huge crack in the bbg narrative.

Anyway, yeah, it’s very unserious. All of it. The timelines of bbg in general and all of the stunts/rumours it truly was ridiculous. But somehow he managed to never end up “dating” that woman and Tamara is a big part of that, because also, he chose to fuck them over with that move. It’s truly iconic sassy Louis behaviour.

I probably missed some stuff here but thanks for chatting!