#don’t let impulse near guns!!

[uhyeahnoabsolutelynot]

list of what i personally consider to be joel’s biggest “i forgot that i keep insisting i’m not your dad” moments:

-“well now i have to see it” / “i don’t want you to” just the tone in which he says this and the thing of being like i’m not going to stop this from happening but i’m going to make my disapproval known, very dad

-his face softening and posture opening up a little in ep1 when she’s like “but you know where to go? so we’re gonna be okay” because even though he’s pissed to be babysitting and thinks she’s more trouble than she’s worth, he is not immune to scared little kid

-also ep1, all of his annoyed eyerolling at ellie instantly respecting/listening to tess and not him

-the Single Silent Nod of Capitulation™️

-becoming increasingly able to sense when ellie is about to ask for a gun from a mile away

-becoming increasingly able to sense when ellie is about to ask him to explain something he doesn’t know jackshit about

-saying under his breath “just wait goddamn it” while jogging after her

-loud coffee slurp in response to being told it’s gross

-also, assuming a 14 y/o who grew up in military school would like coffee

-dad infodumping infused with mild griping (i.e. pre-pandemic air travel, gasoline, how fedra cleared the highways)

-“lookit”

-oH i ThouGht yOu weNt tO ScHooL

-“you’re gonna break your neck”/“slow down”/“what did i just say”

-impatiently telling someone to straighten up is very dad

-the white lie about everyone loving contractors and contractors being cool obv

-doing the “is there anything bad in here” / “just you” bit not once but twice. he really does cycle through the same like 6 weak-ass jokes

-asking someone else to navigate while driving and then stressing them out for not navigating well enough for his liking

-being able to guess her favorite astronaut, i am weeping

-laying down 3 ground rules and then pretty much immediately and continually letting ellie get away with breaking 2 out of 3

-starting to look over at her in surprise when she says “i don’t want to talk about it” because it’s the first time that’s happened and he can tell he’s touched on something that really bothers her, and you see him having to wrestle with the dad impulse to be concerned

-when ellie tries to get him not to go after the sniper; impatiently being like ugh come on that guy is not gonna shoot me he literally sucks (pedro’s read of this line always makes me laugh)

-and of course also the follow-up, when he sees he’s going to have to do better than that to convince her that everything will be fine and his tone softens and he asks her to trust him. the “no questions, just do it” to “do you trust me” pipeline bro, fuucckkk

-the wyoming scenes when they’re nearing jackson and joel’s losing his cool a little and acting kinda grumpy and agitated really remind me of when you have to run errands with your parent while they’re in a bad mood

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I tried to grab all the tags! If I missed any let me know :)

Warnings: Gangster Eddie/Officer Steve & Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, slight degrading, spanking, slapping, handcuffs, etc. FLUFF, more details about the guys relationship,

ANGST, Per the previous chapters cliffhanger we get to meet Jason Carver and he causes problems triggering Eddie to react impulsively. Steve and Y/N spend the bulk of the chapter trying to talk him out of it. Steve and Y/N talk about past relationships, The boys fight but its an understanding between them (you'll see what I mean), technically not a cliffhanger ending this time!

Word Count: 6883

Previous Chapter Here

Clearing your throat, you regained your composure as you feigned a smile and extended your palm out to shake his. 

“Hello there Mr. Carver. How can I help you today?”

“Well, like I told the young lady out there, I’m just here for a checkup. I’m embarrassed to say I wasn’t even aware this little office was here and so close to my house!”, he chuckled as he leaned against the counter. 

Your head slightly ticked to the side at his statement as you pretended to read his chart. Carver’s side of Hawkins was nowhere near your clinic with you actually being a lot closer to Eddie’s building then any of Jason’s. 

“Is that right?”

As the gangster nods, he turns his back to you for a moment to check his phone allowing you to sneak towards your sink and turn on the water as you pretended to wash your hands, utilizing your own device as you call Eddie’s phone. 

“If anything happens, you see something or feel unsafe just call my cell. I’m more likely to answer than Steve who’s always on the move.”

Casually fumbling with your hair, you slide the wireless earbud into your ear and slide your device back into your pocket just as Jason turns back around. 

“Please forgive me. Didn’t mean to break one of your rules.”, he laughs softly as he points to your “No Cell Phones” sign.

“Hey princess. I was just thinking about you.”, Eddie’s voice sweetly flowed from your phone.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Mr. Carver. I completely understand.” You heard clicking that sounded like a gun being loaded as you focused on the man in front of you. “Now was there a particular reason you felt like you needed a checkup or did you just wanted to keep up appearances?” 

“No Steve, fuck you. I’m not staying put. This fucker has the nerve to come on to MY territory and…well then I’ll meet you there. You better get there before me because I swear to God if this asshole wants a war… The fuck did you just say to me!? Goddamn it!”

“I have to confess; I did have a bit of a reason. My head and my shoulder have really been bothering me.”

“Steve’s on the way, Y/N. He said he’s a couple of minutes away and so am I. Just stay calm, baby.”

“That’s not uncommon with things like…migraines. I, um, I can run some tests and prescribe you some medication that…that will help.”

Jason takes a few steps toward you as he speaks. 

“I would appreciate that. It just genuinely feels like I got shot in the forehead or something.”, he chuckles as he moves again till he’s right in front of you. 

“I think you should leave.”

“Aw, why? I’ve heard from the community around here that you’d be the person to come to for pain and I’m in a lot of it. You see, I had to bury one of my close friends yesterday.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, honey.”

“Don’t call me that.”, you growl making him smirk down at you before pushing some of your hair behind your ear displaying the earbud. 

“She seems like a strong one, Munson. Beautiful. Girl in uniform. You definitely have a type.”

“Don’t touch me either.”

“Or what, honey, huh?”

The exam room door flies open as Steve barrels through with his gun drawn. 

“Jason. You’re on the wrong side of town.”

“Put me on speaker, Y/N.”

Removing the device from your ear, you do what he says and hold your phone towards the gangster whose eyebrows raise in amusement.  

“Is that my favorite rival?”

“Jason… you’re playing with fire. First you come on my territory, kidnap, and hurt Steve. Then you send one of your idiots to point a gun in my face. Normally this would be strike three but I’m giving you an out here. Stay away from them and off my side of Hawkins and we’ll do the same.”

“You know, Eddie, that sounds like a sweet deal. Let me talk it over with my team and…oh wait. You killed half my team.”

“You hurt the man I love. You started this… Don’t play the victim now.”

“No, you know who’s a victim? Andrew, Patrick, Samuel, and all of my other friends you killed.”, he sneered as his eyes met your own. “Soon you’ll know what it feels like. You won’t know when or where, freak, but I assure you I will be there when your pig and little whore here become victims to. Unless… you want to switch sides and come with me, pretty girl.”

As his hand reached out to touch your face, your fist reached out to punch him, knocking him backwards just in time for Steve to move forward, grab your wrist, and pull you behind him. 

“Like you said, asshole, I have a type. She’s a lot stronger than she seems. However…”

The door to the room opens again as Eddie saunters in cocking his gun and points it in the other man’s face. 

“If you ever pull a stunt like this again or lay one hand on her, there will be nowhere you could run where we wouldn’t find you. I’m not Allen, Jason. I’m not going to let the stupid bullshit you used to do slide.”

Moving aside to stand by Steve, he allowed the gangster to stand and adjust his suit as he headed for the door. 

“You’re right, Munson. You aren’t Allen. The streets ran better with him in charge and you’re nothing like him. You may think these people respect you but I assure you they pity you.”, he spat before leaving the way he came.

The officer immediately turned around and cupped your head in his hands. 

“Are you ok, honey? You did really good.”

You aggressively nod, gripping his wrist as you lean your forehead against his. 

“Yeah, I’m ok. What does this mean?”

“It means I fucking slaughter that asshole and show him exactly how people respect me.”, Eddie grumble as tucked away his weapon. 

“No, it doesn’t. That’s something impulsive Allen would do but not you.”

The gangster chuckled under his breath casually walking towards the officer, placing himself mere inches from him with a stoic expression but eyes filled with fury. 

“That’s the second time today you, Steven, have insinuated I’m acting like my father and second person today to compare me to him. I am the boss of the Munson crew and I know how to handle my business. Now, go back to being the dirty cop and shut the fuck up.”

“I’m dirty because of you, babe. Everything I do is for you.”

“Wait…”, you begged as you step between them, each man prepared to duke it out here in your exam room. “Wait, don’t do this here. We can talk about it tonight in your loft.”

“We?”, Eddie sneered as he backed away. “You two can come over but the conversation will be the same. I know what I’m doing and neither of you have any say but especially you, little girl.”

“The head of a gang just threatened my life. I’m allowed to have an opinion on this.”

“Edward Munson, don’t do anything till we talk or I swear to God, I will arrest you and take you in myself.”

The gangster bit his bottom lip, huffing at he turned to leave. 

“Well then bring your handcuffs, sweetheart, because you will need them.”

##############

Steve stayed with you the rest of the day and after you got off, drove with you to Eddie’s building. As soon as you both stepped in you could feel the energy buzzing around what happened. 

“Hey Marcus. Please tell me he’s at least in his apartment.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Harrington, but he has had people coming and going.”

“Great. Thanks, bud.”

The man behind the desk smiles at you as you wave politely, your other hand firmly locked with the officer’s as he led you to the elevator. 

“Is this normal? Have you ever seen him like this?”, you ask.

“Uh, yeah, but not at this scale.” As the door to the elevator closes, he sighs before turning to face you. “We meant what we said, Y/N, about not hurting you or anything like that but we both can get feisty when we’re heated. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable or you get scared just say that word we taught you, ok?”

The entire week you stayed with them after what happened with Andrew, you not only spent that time getting to know each other but they explained some rules they like to follow when it comes to “playing rough.” Steve told you that due to their line of work sometimes they liked to take out their stresses on each other which made you giggle at the time when his eyes playfully rolled back. 

“We like to go all out, you know? Slapping, choking, degrading… of course, honey, you don’t have to do any of that.”

“I don’t mind you doing any of that. Just don’t like punch me or cut me.”

“Sweetheart, we aren’t into that kinda thing either. Trust me, we see it enough out there.”, Eddie teases as he points absently towards the window. “If you don’t like something we’re doing or you need us to stop just say ‘Red’, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, Munson. She has manners. I like that.”

“Yes, sir.”

The officer grins as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

As soon as you enter Eddie’s apartment you’re stunned by the chaos around you. There were guns laid out in random sections of the living room with a gigantic map of Hawkins on the coffee table. Walking further in, you noticed pieces of glass shattered against the wall with liquid that smelled like bourbon surrounding it. 

“Ed, this is a rash jump. Shouldn’t the retaliation be level with the offense? A war seems…extreme.”

“Alright, Gareth, what would be level for openly threatening me and the people I care about, hm? Kill more insignificant lackies? Steal some of his product? No. If this is what he wants then I’m going to give it to him.”

“Jesus, man. You sound like—” The gangster’s angry glare cut him off as he rose to his feet, relief panting his features when he noticed Steve. “You know we’d follow you anywhere but we…I really think you should reevaluate your strategy.”

Eddie ignores him as he holds his current glass of alcohol in his hand to his forehead as he continues to focus on the image in front of him. The officer pats Gareth shoulder comfortingly as he leaves and you exhale your nerves as you watch these two men you’ve grown fond of interact.

***

“I see you didn’t wait for me.”, Steve sighed with agitation. 

“You’re right, I didn’t, but I haven’t made any definitive moves yet so you’re right on time to say your peace.”

“Eddie, I’m not playing around. If you start a gang war in the middle of Hawkins, I will arrest you and throw you in a cell myself. If you want to act like your dad then I can treat you like him.”

The long-haired man slammed his glass against the table and rose to his feet, striding angrily towards the officer before shoving him furiously in the chest.

“Last time you tried that, babe, we barely made it halfway down the street before you were fucking me and letting me go! You think now you can follow through? After everything we’ve been through? Now that you love me.”

Steve stepped forward shoving the man back with his broad chest.

“With no hesitation, honey. I’d be doing it because I love you. I’m not going to let you get innocent people and/or yourself killed! There are other ways we can do this, Eddie.”

“There’s no other way. I’m tired of his cocky, entitled attitude and I gave him plenty of leeway! His response was to hurt you, threaten me, and intimidate Y/N? No. I won’t have that disrespect!”

“Eddie, doing this won’t gain you that respect. If anything, you’ll lose more or all of it.”, you added trying to help. 

“Oh, sweetheart, if anyone has less say in this, it’s you.”

“My life is now on the line to as well as those innocent people Steve mentioned. I see and heal them every day! You told me when we first met that you didn’t kill people you didn’t have to. You don’t have to do this.”

Eddie glared into his boyfriend’s eyes as he reached for his phone and started dialing. 

“Hey, Jeff. Yeah, get everything together and—”

Steve hand flew, knocking the device from the gangster’s hand as he tumbled to the side and caught himself on the couch. 

“Jeff, it’s Steve. Ignore that order. As a matter of fact, all of you head home for the night, ok? Mr. Munson and I need to have a talk so he won’t be making anymore decisions tonight.”

With exception force, he threw the phone hard against the wall, not even flinching when it shattered. Both men stared each other down as the fury burned around them and you’d be lying if you said watching them angerly pant as their dominance oozed from them didn’t turn you on a bit. 

 Eddie lunged toward him and you watched in aw as both men began to fight each other. The officer got the upper hand, pinning him to the floor, and pressing his knee into his shoulder blades as he handcuffed his hands behind his back. 

“Be careful, Steve! He’s still healing.”

Rolling him onto his back, he checked the gangster’s wound that was exposed due his shirtless physique that had Steve not just checking his side but his entire upper body. 

“Why are you acting so impulsively? This isn’t like you.”

“Well, this feels familiar. You sizing me up while I’m on my back, handcuffed. I’m starting to think the reason you restrain me is because you can’t control me without it. Just like how you think threatening to take me in will get me to submit to what you want.”

Keeping both knees straddling his waist, Steve’s palms caressed his stomach around to his back, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend’s as he removed the cuffs accepting the challenge. 

“I can control you just fine without restraints. Now… are you done with your tantrum, little boy, or should we keep going?”

The condescension in his partner’s voice infuriated the gangster as he smacked him in the face and tried to throw him off him. This just spurred Steve on more as he grabbed the man’s wrists and held them to the floor. 

“Honey, can you help me?”

Nodding, you scurried his way and when his eyes gestured towards his belt, you immediately unbuckled it, even going the extra step of pulling out his cock for him.

“Thank you, pretty girl.”, he coos, tilting his head towards you so you could kiss his lips as Eddie struggled beneath him. “See? She’s a good girl.”

“She IS a good girl. That’s why I’m doing this; to protect her.”

“Don’t. Don’t say you’re doing this for us, Eddie, because we don’t want you to do this.”

The gangster’s jaw clenched at your words causing Steve to sigh in frustration as he leaned down till the tip of his cock was resting on his lips. 

“Open.” When his partner remained still, the pretty boy rolled his eyes, shuffling the man’s hands into one of his own so he could free his other to reach behind him and place it on the massive bulge in his slacks. “OPEN.”

Eddie’s eyes fluttered as Steve continued to massage him and without prompting you slide towards the gangster’s waist and unbuckled his pants as well. 

“All the way off, baby. He needs to be exposed and vulnerable because that seems to be what he’s into now a days. Right, little boy? That’s what this move you’re planning will do.”

When Eddie moaned, Steve turned to see just as you were running your tongue down the veins of the man’s length. 

“She’s a lot nicer than I am because I assure you I’m not going to be that gentle. Now…OPEN.”, he growled. 

He tried to remain steadfast but when your lips enveloped him, Eddie couldn’t help but groan allowing Steve to slide into his awaiting mouth. Releasing him from his hold, the officer balanced his hands above his boyfriend’s head as he thrust into him as you lightly mewled at the feeling of Eddie’s palms petting your hair. 

“Fuck. That’s it. Keep that sassy fucking mouth open for me.”

Coming around to their front, you help Steve remove his shirt before leaning down beside Eddie’s forehead to tenderly move his hair away from his face. Even though they were upset, both men sighed at the action. You were a nice contrast to their rough lifestyle, not just when you played but in their relationship as well. 

“Eddie, please, there’s another way we can do this without people getting hurt.”

Wrapping his arms around his waist, the gangster flipped the officer over and you slid back a bit to allow them to wrestle. You noticed immediately that a lot of Eddie’s fight had decreased especially when Steve’s back hit the wall as he circled his legs around him, locking the long-haired boy in a position that had him thrown over his lap on his stomach with his ass exposed. 

Gripping his wrists again in one hand, the other free one came down hard on his behind making Eddie groan. 

“She’s talking to you and she’s right, Ed.” Squirming against his hold, Steve’s hand came down again. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?!”

“FUCK YOU!”

His deep, authoritative voice startled you but not his partner as his palm came down once more before sucking on two of his fingers and sliding them into his entrance. 

“Are you trying to prove something? Everyone already knows you’re a badass to be feared if needed.” Eddie moaned as Steve’s fingers tapped that spot inside of him that drove him crazy. “You keep saying it’s a respect thing but I don’t believe you. People respect you except that fucking, preppy moron but that’s one man. We don’t need to kill a bunch of people to prove a point to him.”

Steve spanked him again as he mused.

“Is it me?”, you asked in a small voice that makes Eddie’s head hang as his hair blocks his face. “Is it because of what we talked about…about how I’m another vulnerability?”

“I won’t allow anyone to fucking hurt you.”, he grumbled as his eyes shot up to meet yours. “Anyone.”

With incredible force, Steve pushed him off his lap and rose to his feet, pulling up his pants, and collecting you in his arms before carrying you up the stairs to the bedroom. 

“Grab anything you may need, honey. We’re going to my place.”

“You have a place?”

“Yeah. Can’t really have it on record that I live with a gangster.”, he chuckles, his face hardening as Eddie enters the room. “You promised me that you wouldn’t let your feelings for me affect what you did out there. We agreed that extended to her when we decided to bring her into our world. If you really want to fucking burn down Hawkins to show the city that we are yours then we’ll remove ourselves from the fucking equation. Oh, and she’s not a vulnerability. Personally, I think she’s one of our strengths. One of the few fucking positive things about us and in our lives.”

“Why do you think I’m trying to protect her?!”

“EXCUSE ME! But haven’t I protected you two?!”, you angrily spit towards Eddie. “You I’ve saved twice, remember? I don’t NEED you to protect me. I can protect myself just fine. I like knowing I have you two there for me though. I…I make myself vulnerable FOR you. That doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’m not afraid of Jason Carver. If anything, I’m more afraid of you right now and what you might do.”

Eddie let out a heavy sigh as his palm flew up to his chest. Taking a hold of your hand, Steve led you past the brokenhearted gangster and out the front door.

##############

Grinning softly, you took in the new dwelling Steve had brought you to. It was a modest, brick interior, studio apartment on the fifth floor of a complex that had a good view of the city. The walls were pretty much bare except for the couple of pictures of sports cars and near his bed his certificate of graduation from the police academy. In the corner, he had set up a little gym area with weights and a treadmill with the same fantasy book off to the side that you remembered on Eddie’s nightstand. 

When you flashed it to him questioningly, he smiled. 

“Eddie loves that crap. Whenever he babbles about it, I at least want to know what he’s talking about.” 

On his nightstand, he placed his badge and gun right beside the medication you prescribed him making you beam when you see he had been following your instructions. Beside his lamp and phone charger was a framed photo of him and Eddie different from the one the gangster had. In his photo, Eddie was on a kitchen counter somewhere with his legs reaching to wrap around Steve’s waist as his ringed fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. Their lips were inches apart, noses just barely touching as Steve smirked down at him. 

“We need to get a picture of you so we both can have one.”

“Does it worry you? Like if you invite a friend over who’s on the force and they see that?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m kind of an asshole. I don’t have many friends.”, he laughs breathily as he runs his fingers through his hair and takes a seat beside you.  “The friends I do have know about us. If I ever go somewhere work related or with any of the other officers I usually go to their places. And of course, I’m the only cop that goes to his place so…”

Your own fingers tenderly reach out to caress his cheek and run down his muscular back making him sigh as he closes his eyes. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah… I’m just…I’m just worried. I really don’t want him to this.”

“Would you genuinely take him in like you said?”

“I would. Which means I would most likely get arrested to.” Opening his eyes, he glances your way seeing the slight confusion as he continues. “If I just brought him, it wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to tell them how I knew it was him and then everything else but…at least he’d be safe. Unless they send him to the same place his dad is at…Fuck.”, he groans as he rubs his palms over his face.

“What would happen to me?”

His head abruptly turned at your question as he became more serious. 

“Nothing, baby. I promise. You’d be safe. Eddie has people that would watch over you for us and of course anything else you may need they can get it.”

“I need you two.”, you cry as your head hangs. “I like you both so much… I don’t want to lose you.” Steve’s arm shot out to pull you to him so he could hold you tightly to his chest. “God, what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this, I don’t know, clingy before.”

“We tend to have that effect on women.” He laughs and pretends to flinch when you pull away to lightly slap his arm. “Does it bother you? I mean do you like it?”

“I do. It scares me a little bit sometimes. Eddie says we’re his vulnerabilities but for me…being open like this…in that particular headspace… Most men are always intimidated by me when they first meet me and lately I struggled to get past that first date. My last relationship…didn’t end well…so I put all my energy into finishing my PhD and working.”

“I can understand that. I did the same thing after my last relationship. It’s part of the reason I had the balls to go after Eddie. I did so much reconnaissance and sleuthing that I thought I had enough to bring in the leader of a mafia gang. He, uh, wasn’t what I thought he would be.”

“Kind?”

“Goofy. He told me a dad joke that made me laugh. By the time we got near the station, I didn’t want to let him go. Over the past 10 months, I’ve learned how sweet, nerdy, and adorable he can be.”

“I learned the same thing about you.” Steve scrunched his nose as he laughed at you. “I did. You were a bit of a jerk and I thought you hated me.”

“I told you I’m a jerk!”, he grinned till you both calmed down and he tenderly petted your head. “No, baby, I didn’t hate you.”

A knock on the door had you both more alert as he placed his finger over his mouth in a shushing motion while he reached for his weapon. Rising to your feet in preparation, you watched as he slowly moved towards the sound, exhaling after looking through his peephole.

Lowering his weapon, he opens the door to a disgruntled Eddie who barges through and throws his leather jacket on the couch, his face instantly softening when he sees yours. 

“Why are you crying? Is everything ok?”

You wipe your face as he hurries towards you, giving you a once over as you nod.

“Yeah, Eddie. I’m ok. We were just talking about you…how much we care about you.”

“Why are you here, Munson? Don’t you have a massacre to dictate?”

Blinking, he readjusts himself so he can address you both. 

“Steve, when you showed up at my door after Carver’s guys jumped you, it scared the hell out of me. You were in so much pain and…”, his voice cracks before clearing his throat as he continues. “I remember what it was like having the shit kicked out of me and the fact that someone had the balls to do that to someone I love; someone that’s mine. I saw red. When Jason showed up at her work threatening to do the same…Baby, I lost my fucking mind.”

“Clearly.”, Steve chided, sighing when you flashed him a stern look. “She’s not just yours, you know. It’s not solely on you to watch out for her. You don’t think when I saw him pressing up against her and calling her a whore I didn’t want to shoot that motherfucker then and there? You’re also mine, Eddie, and if I have to arrest you to keep you alive…” 

“Are you still going to go through with it? Going after Jason?”, you ask, relief washing over you when he folds his arms and shakes his head. 

“You both were right. There are other ways we can attack him without innocent people getting hurt.” The gangster’s beautiful chocolate hues glance towards you. “I’m sorry I scared you.” As your arms wrap around him, he exhales heavily into your hair as his fingers cling to you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s ok—”

“No, it’s not.”, he scolds himself as he tilts your head back to look at him. “Don’t you ever let either of us get away with bullshit like that. It’s one thing to dominate you. It’s another to frighten you. We don’t want to do that with you.”

“So, what I’m hearing, Edward Munson, is that you need to be punished.”, Steve teases causing the other man’s eyes to playfully narrow as he bows towards his boyfriend extending his arms on either side. 

“I’m all yours, Officer.”

“Hm.”

Grinning, he steps forward, placing himself directly in front of him before forcefully turning him to face you as he pats him down. 

“God this feels so vaguely familiar.”

“Because it’s been done so many times in the past?”

“Only by you, baby.”

Steve’s face hardens as he spanks the man in front of him as he leans over his shoulder to whisper in his ear.

“Stop talking. You’re in a lot of trouble.” 

You watch with intense desire as his palm glides over the gangster’s pockets and reroutes around to the bulge in his slacks. Eddie groans as he licks his lips, his hips slightly grinding to find more friction.

“Too bad you were a bad little boy. We could have been sucking you cock right now or you could be sinking it into her tight, wet pussy. But no… you had to play big man in Hawkins, didn’t you?” When his boyfriend doesn’t answer, he spanks him again. “Didn’t you?”

“Ah, fuck. Yes.”

Abruptly grabbing his wrists, Steve handcuffs them behind Eddie’s back, guiding him towards his mattress, and tossing him stomach first onto his bed. 

“Can you do me a favor, sweet girl?”

Stepping closer to him, you allow him to murmur instructions to you making you nod before lightly kissing his lips. After completely disrobing, you climb on to the bed in front of Eddie and per the officer’s instructions, open your legs wide for him to see.

“Fuck, angel. You’re so fucking beautiful.”, he compliments in a strained tone as the other man reached underneath him to remove the gangster pants and boxers. 

“Yeah? You like my pussy, baby?” Scooting a bit closer to him, you bite your bottom lip and grin as he nods, tilting his head to kiss your inner thigh. As his kisses trail further up towards your legs, you push yourself back, denying him what he desperately wants. “Oh, I’m sorry. Officer Harrington said you weren’t allowed.”

Steve smirks over his shoulder as he listens to Eddie whine while hanging his head.

“No, hey, keep your eyes on her.”, he scolds, gripping his jaw and forcing his head up.

The long-haired boy groans as your fingers glide effortlessly through your folds, the sound of your wetness making him harder as he tries to relieve the pressure by rutting into the mattress. His boyfriend roughly loops his arms through his own, bringing his back to his chest as he guides his cock into his entrance. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s it.”

You had never really been privy to seeing them be sexually intimate and you never initiated any of that in the bedroom. You wanted them to feel comfortable especially since you were the newcomer to the relationship and dynamic. Seeing them now as Steve slammed his hips into Eddie’s, lifting and holding his upper half with his arms alone as the gangster practically drooled mewling his name; it was the sexist thing you had ever seen. 

A small cry left your throat as you pushed two of your fingers into your needy hole.

“Aw, look what you’re doing to her, honey. She wants your mouth in her cunt so bad. I bet you do to, huh?”

“I-I—fuck—I’m sorry.”, he sighed exasperatingly. 

“I’m sure you are.” Pulling out, he smacked his ass before bouncing on to the bed on his back and man handling his boyfriend till he was positioned over his cock. “You better ride my dick fucking hard.” Holding the base, both men moaned as he lowered himself on to his firm length and did what he commanded. “Mmm—fuck—come here, Y/N.”

After crawling over to him, he tugged your arm and shifted your body till you were sitting directly on his face. 

“I got you, baby.”

Steve wasted no time, his fingers digging into your thighs as his thick, masterful tongue went to work. Eddie watched you both with glassy, lust filled eyes as he bounced and grinded on the man he loved. Leaning towards him, you couldn’t help but capture his lips and was surprised when the officer allowed it. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. Fuck, his cock feels so fucking good.”

“I forgive you, Eddie. I forgive you. YES! Steve, please. I need him.”

His hold around you tightened as he shook his head between your legs, his lips making obscene slurping sounds as he flicked his tongue against your clit at an overwhelming pace. 

Panting, your body trembled as you came as his tongue continued with its assault, elongating your high. After a soft kiss to your thigh and a firm tap of your ass, you climbed off him, waiting for instruction. Sitting up, he grabbed Eddie’s cheeks and kissed him passionately making the gangster groan at the taste of you on his boyfriend’s mouth. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. You know how I am sometimes.”

“Hot headed? Stubborn? A pain in my ass?” They both chuckled softly, the officer running his thumb along his lips. “We talk to each other right? Figure things out together.”

“Yeah, baby, we do.”

“ALL of us. That includes her now. She makes us stronger.”

“Yeah, she does.”, Eddie smiled as he glanced your way wishing he could touch you. 

Giving him one final kiss, Steve leans back and pats his lower stomach. 

“Come here, honey.” Taking his hand, you let him direct you till you were straddling him with the other man’s cock teasing your pussy lips. “You’ll have to slide back on him but he should be able to do the rest.”

Nodding your head, you reach behind you to hold his length as you guide him inside of you. 

“Oh my fucking God.”, Eddie growls as you mewl at the stretch. 

Steve’s large palms grip your hips as his boyfriend start’s bouncing and thrusting his own. 

“Does that feel good, Y/N?”

“S-So good.”

“Shit. You’re both so fucking sexy That’s it. Just let go and take it like a good girl.”

Your breasts hang perfectly in front of his face and when his mouth attaches to your nipple, your pussy clenches around Eddie making him whimper as he picks up his pace. 

“Please, Eddie. Make me cum.”

As he does his best to honor your request while restrained, Steve licks his thumb and massages your clit driving you crazy as you push up and lean against the gangster’s chest. You feel him grunt into your shoulder as he releases inside of you, you following as you moan his name into the ceiling. After lightly spanking you, you collapse to the side and watch as Eddie falls forward knowing the man he loves will be there as Steve cups his cheeks and thrusts roughly upwards chasing his own high. 

“That’s it, Eddie, baby. Take it, take it, take it. That’s my good boy. Fuck.”

They both groan as the man underneath him thrusts his spend deep inside of him, his mouth falling open as he pants against his lips. 

“I love you so much, Steven, fuck. I love you.”

As the gangster croons into his neck and they continue to whisper admiration for each other, you tip toe towards the officer’s set of keys and quietly reappear to free him. His palms promptly come to pet the boy’s head, kissing his forehead before playfully wrapping his arms around you and dragging you over Steve to place you between them.

A warm feeling washes over you as both men roll on to their side to nuzzle their noses against your cheeks as they hold you. 

You aren’t sure when you fell asleep or for how long but the strong, delicious smell of pasta caused your eyes to flutter open. Eddie was still knocked out beside you but due to the small space you could see Steve with his bare back to you in sweats at the stove. One of his shirts had been placed by the bed and you smiled as you slid it on, shuffling towards him. 

“Hey you. I’m making dinner if you’re hungry.” His grin grows when you nod, turning his attention back to his sizzling pan. Hopping up, on to the nearby stool by his counter, you notice a file with Jason’s name on it.

“May I?”

Glancing that way, he hesitates for only a moment before giving his approval. 

The file itself was thick with photos and notes of Carver’s gang showing that the officer really did take his job seriously as you browsed through the details. Kind of like Eddie his father passed the reigns to his son Jason but unlike him, his father was still out and walking freely. He seemed to still have a bit of sway when it came to the clan itself but otherwise he trusted his son. He had been running things for a couple of years before Eddie took over and due to the change Steve noted a few things you found disturbing.

“Hey. Put that down and try this.”  You smile as he holds a spoon to your lips and he beams with pride when make a tiny yum noise as he turns back around. “My mom was actually a pretty good cook. She taught me a thing or two.”

“Jesus Christ, it smells good in here.”, Eddie announced, grabbing a desk chair and sliding obnoxiously loud over to you two making you laugh. While tilting up to kiss you, he yanks the file from your grasp. “Bad Officer Harrington. Letting her snoop.”

“She’s not snooping. She asked and I said it was alright.”

“I’m glad you’re not going after him, Ed. There’s some things in there…”

“Yeah. Jason Carver is a prick. I’m surprised his dad lets him get away with half the shit he does but unless George Carver deems you worthy so to speak he doesn’t give a damn.”

Your head shot up as an idea hit you. 

“Wait a second, Hawkins does a charity thing every year where the wealthy show up to throw money at causes to make them feel better about themselves.”

“Yeah, my parents go to that.”, Steve replied with a hint of sarcasm you didn’t miss. 

“My dad was always invited but never went. He never felt the need to pretend to be a good man.”

“But that’s why I never went. I had heard that the head of the Carver’s attended.” They both continue to stare at you with confused eyes causing you to let out a frustrated sigh as you rise to your feet. “The sponsors of that party have funds for Hawkins medical funds but the bulk of it goes to that general hospital. I’m still always invited…if I wanted to mingle with the donors…make an impression… Come on, guys.”

“Honey, just say what’s on your mind.”

“I can go with Eddie and we can talk to Jason’s dad. Maybe somehow convince him to get his son to leave us alone.”

They exchange a look before the gangster finally speaks. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, that means you’d have be seen with me and not just by the Carvers. My team, a few of our friends, and apparently Jason somehow knows about Steve but otherwise he’s hidden. If we go to this event with you on my arm, EVERYONE will know.”

“Including the police, baby. Which means you could have more eyes on you and pressure pushed when it comes to him.”

Your head hangs as you fiddle with your fingers. 

“I would never turn you over or tell them anything. I swear…”

“No, honey.”, Steve quickly explains. “We aren’t worried about that. We just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Of course, we can protect you in that regard from getting into any kind of legal trouble.”

“Your family and friends will have something to say—”

“I don’t have much family and I work 24/7 so I don’t have time for friends. Honestly, the only thing I care about is that clinic, my patients, and you two.” The genuinely smile at that last bit making you blush. “I do. I care about you very much. It’s been a long time since I felt like I wasn’t just coasting through life. These past couple of weeks I’ve really enjoyed having someone to talk to, to hold me, even just hear someone tell me I’m fucking beautiful.”

Eddie gets to his feet and tenderly kisses your lips.

“You are beautiful, angel. Ok, I need to take you shopping so we can get you a new dress.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t HAVE to. I want to.”, he grins. “We need to go over some rules and things if we are going to pull this off. “

“I can come to. Since my parents are attending, it wouldn’t be odd for me to be there and I can keep an eye on you two.”

“My knight in shining handcuffs and a holster gun.” Steve sticks out his tongue as Eddie giggles like a little kid. “Alright, princess, this won’t be the last time I ask but are you sure you want to do this?”

Your gaze shifts between them as a heavy sigh exits from your lungs. 

“I’m sure.”

###############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive

[darlingshane]

opposites

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 1,5k

Summary: You have a crush on Shane, but it's not after a near-death experience that you dare to act on those feelings in your own awkward way.  

Content/Warnings: smut, car sex, hand jobs, fingering, vaginal sex, shy reader.

-- Read below or at AO3.

It's ironic that Shane and you got paired today, given how vastly different you are. For starters, he's really loud, outgoing, and doesn't always have the best manners when it comes to dealing with people. And you, on the other hand, are really quiet, shy, and not the best communicator. The social anxiety you were born with impedes you from having normal conversations, especially with people like Shane. All about him is very intimidating. But what scares you the most is that you actually like him, and that's the reason you've barely exchanged a few words ever since you met him when you joined his group back at the quarry.

Words are not always necessary, however. In a walker-infested world, quietness is a good trait to have to survive on days like this when you’re out in the open. He appreciates that, you’ve noticed. You’re an observer and have learned to read his signals and follow his lead without having to talk at all. He’s more experienced than you, let’s be real, but you’ve also realized he’s not as demanding and overprotective with you as he is with some other people in the group. He either doesn’t care much for your presence or finds you capable of handling yourself. You hope it’s the latter.

The task you’ve been assigned to is to investigate the strip mall you passed by a couple of days ago on your way to the farm. Shane lets you take your time surveying store after store at your own pace, without rushing you. You collect a few goods you find and put them in your pack. He only taps your shoulder a couple of times to let you know he’s checking the room at the back.

It’s after sweeping the last store that you have a little mishap when you encounter a group of walkers invading the parking lot. You cautiously head out the back and circle around the large building to get to your car, but you quickly get cornered by more rotters. Shane is fast to draw his gun, but the sound of it going off only puts more attention on the two of you, so you have to run the other way and try finding another way to get to your vehicle. You’re running behind Shane and miss the pothole on the concrete that makes you trip on your feet and fall over. When you look ahead, Shane’s already disappeared around the corner, and the walkers at your back start zeroing on you. Some find their way through one of the doors, and you’re promptly surrounded by more as you get up. You take out as many as you can, frantically looking for an exit strategy. The next second, you eye Shane aiding you, firing his gun and shouting to lure the walkers left in his direction.

It’s a close call, you almost got bitten twice, but you both make it to the car safely.

He takes out his police cap, starts the car, and quickly drives out of there. He looks mad for a moment, but he doesn’t say shit.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, nervously chewing the inside of your lip as the sudden adrenaline high from earlier keeps coursing through your veins like wildfire. Using that boost of confidence it gives you, as he drives, you extend his palm to his crotch, and fondle him over his grey cargo pants.

His bulge swells under your palm, and you press a little harder to claim his attention. He keeps his eyes on the road for a long moment until he decides to pull up on the side of the road.

Your mission partner looks at you, and you’re utterly oblivious to what he’s thinking. It makes you instantly regret that abrupt impulse, and you retrieve that naughty hand at once.

“Sorry,” you mumble, tearing your eyes away from him too.

“What was that?” He sounds ridiculously amused, and if you could look at him again, you’d see that lopsided grin plastered on his face.

“I don’t know… I just wanted to say thank you for what you did back there… you could’ve easily…” you feel your heart almost pumping out of your chest as you trail off.

“Is that how you always say thank you?”

You shake your head, staring down at your hands on your lap.

“No?”

“I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“I’m not,” he scoffs, tilting his head to the side, trying to capture your eyes, “you gonna finish what you started or what, sweetheart?”

“You want me to finish?”

“I mean, it’s the polite thing to do… but you don’t gotta.”

You pause and swallow with difficulty, reaching out again to his sizable bulge that’s grown even bigger before you removed your hand. It shouldn’t be a surprise, you know he’s gotten around with at least Lori and Andrea before you. You hope those are the only two, though. It shouldn’t matter, cause there’s no real future here. So, you try to get back to that mindless state and put that aside before curling your fingers harder around him as his fingertips brush the side of your neck.

“You wanna sit on my lap, darlin’?”

Simply nodding, you shift on your seat and straddle his lap, managing to avoid eye contact at all costs. You focus on your fingers undoing his belt and fly, and going straight for that sweet price tucked under his boxers. It makes you wet to touch him and see his cock in broad daylight like this. It’s obscenely hard, wet and throbbing.

“There you go,” he grunts, and hums lewdly as your palm makes contact with his taut skin, “always knew shy girls were the dirtiest.”

You ignore his remark, extending his pre-cum down his shaft and pumping him a little harder.

“You wanna put it in your mouth, sweetheart?”

It looks terribly appetizing, you wish you could to be honest, but you’re not sure if you're down for going down right at this moment, so you just shake your head.

“No?” He frames your chin and tilts your head up without forcing you to look at your eyes, “would  you look at me at least?”

“Okay,” you sigh under your breath, and get lost in the dark depth of his lustful stare.

He really is something else.

His hand keeps holding your face and brings his other hand up to your mouth, daring you to suck on his fingers. You open your mouth and let him insert two past your teeth. They stroke your tongue as you wrap your lips around them.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he praises in between groans and orders you to open wider, so he can tuck a third finger in, “let’s see what you got.”

You always knew you were attracted to him, but you weren’t sure how much until you found yourself in this position, granting him his wishes and sucking his fingers at the same pace your hand moves up and down his shaft.

Your chin quickly gets covered in your own spit, as your core tightens and boils, and you’d love it if either his fingers, his cock, or both were inside you instead. You’ve dreamt about it a few times, and here you are now, half completing your fantasy because of a sudden whim.

It feels like he knows exactly what you want, because the next second he painfully removes his hand off you, and then pushes your hand away from him, stating, “I wanna feel you, sweetheart. Do you wanna feel me?”

“Yes,” you exhale, blinded by sheer lust, and you shift again to have your back pressed against his chest. You undo the buttons of your jeans, and he helps you pull down your pants and underwear down to your knees.

Before moving further, you feel his fingers sliding between your legs to gather the fucking mess pooling in your folds. He lets out a most satisfied groan, pulling your hips flush against him, so your ass is pressed on his dick. He plays with your pussy a little longer, flicking your clit, massaging your folds, and finally probing those same two he had earlier in your mouth into your entrance. You squirm in his hold, and melt around those thick fingers, while his rough thumb circles your clit with passion.

The position is a little uncomfortable in the car seat, but it feels awfully great to have him nipping at your neck, and touching you all over like that.

His free hand slides under your shirt, and he tugs the cups of your bra to fondle your breasts.

When you’re ready, you lift your ass slightly, and he guides himself inside you, breaching your opening, and stretching your walls like no other cock has ever done.

Your hips vaguely rock on his lap, with his fingers still glued to your clit, as his mouth attaches to your neck with such hunger it hurts all over. Good hurt, though. It feels like heaven to be linked to him like this.

It’s slow, intense, and better than any fantasy your head ever concocted.

[compacflt]

I was wondering if you had thoughts about how Ice and Mav's politics don't fully align with their actions? There was a post where you said Ice's politics are more socially liberal than Mav's but Mav is also the one who goes out to La Jolla to hit on guys before Ice, and later again when he's broken up with Ice, but Ice only goes out with women out of fear for his honor or whatever. Same with their respective thoughts on feminism, with Mav's mild respect for Charlie (telling Ice not all women fit the stereotype) but later Ice is the one who sends Juno to Mav's Top Gun class without telling him she's a woman and Ice has a respectful friendship with Juno. I think you said Ice is vaguely on the ace-aro spectrum (demi-homoromantic) which is a sort of fascinating irony that he doesn't have the words for it whereas Mav is the one with the theories about Ice's sexuality. Though with their hypocrisies and inconsistencies this all just feeds into their characterizations of the fact that they keep divorcing their actions from their spoken words from their identities.

okay going to take this point by point

1. yes i have addressed their politics in relation to their actions before, so maybe read this post and this post before you read this one, just to see where my other thoughts line up

2. gay republicans and conservatives do exist (at the very least certainly republicans and conservatives who have gay sex in secret)

3. before maverick is a political actor he is a human being, and the characterization that we are primarily given for him is that he is impulsive and reckless and doesn’t think through his actions. As ive written about many times before—from a story construction standpoint, his thoughtlessness is his number one most important character trait. He is both thoughtlessly dangerous (his hero’s “fatal flaw;” he can’t stop himself from making bad decisions) and thoughtlessly brilliant (the navy’s best and most daring and heroic pilot). He does what he wants without thinking about it; and he makes excuses and hollow promises whenever that plan doesn’t work out (“I know better than that. It will never ever happen again;” [it happens again] “I’m not gonna let you down. I promise.” [goose dies shortly thereafter]). His thoughtless impulsiveness overrides everything else. Maybe the act of having gay sex (to address your “he gets fucked in La Jolla before ice” point) is politically subversive, but for Maverick’s thoughtless character that we are shown in Top Gun, the most subversive possible thing would be to LABEL the gay sex and think through the consequences of it. To call a spade a spade and call himself gay or bi or queer or whatever. That would be the most subversive (and with mav, entirely unbelievable imo) possible thing. That takes conscious effort of thought, something maverick is near-incapable of doing. As long as he can get away with it without thinking about it, he’s politically in the clear, with regards to his character & character arc. If that makes sense. “Don’t think. Just do.” That’s literally his motto lmfao. He represents thoughtless action as an archetype; his politics come secondary to his desires

4. Their “respective thoughts on feminism” are divided into two camps: 1. “Professional as required by the law” and 2. “Sex pest mode.” They’re naval officers in the 1980s. Whether republican or democrat, that’s kind of par for the course. How men treat women can be a performance to other men. Any respect i made them show towards women had broader, more metatextual “need to move the conversation/story from A to B” reasoning behind it. See the first post I linked for much more on that.

5. i never said ice was on the ace/aro spectrum, or if i did i DEFINITELY meant it sarcastically. That could not be further from what i believe. This isn’t something I’ve ever discussed on this blog before, but a MASSIVE part of the philosophical discussion I’ve been trying to moderate within this project over the last year is the question— “do labels even work with characters under these very specific and extraordinarily extreme conditions and societal pressures?” It’s a question I took from my time studying early American history—the contexts of certain environments, and I would definitely count the elite officer ranks of the navy in the 90s and 2000s as one of these certain environments, simply Are Not Conducive to the easier (path of least resistance maybe) ways we civilians handle sexuality and friendship and trauma. There are so many variables and external and internal pressures within an environment like the upper ranks of career navy officers that sexual orientation labels lose all nuance and accuracy. I don’t think Ice (as i have written him) is gay. I don’t think he’s straight. I don’t think he’s bi. I think he’s an unlabelable product of too many variables for labels to have any effect on how he is perceived. Which, in our society built around labels and categories, is admittedly difficult to wrestle with. But doesn’t make it any less worth wrestling with.

6. Yes, ice and mav’s hypocrisy is the linchpin of the entire story.

They’re both trying to have their cake (“honor” and moral superiority based on the harmful traditional subjective morals arbitrated by elite navy officership) and eat it too (a fulfilling relationship with the love of their lives). & the point is that they cant. they have to settle for one.

[lenreli]

Day 30 - Mechanic [Human AU]

[AO3]

Hob sighs and looks up from the mangled wall panel, and Dream feels. Only a little bit bad about the poor mechanic, having to deal with his spaceship to fix. “And how did you manage this again?” Hob scratches his head and crosses his arms as he looks at the panel’s insides. 

“Wear and tear,” he answers with an innocent blink.

“Would the wear and tear happen to be a laser gun,” Hob mutters to himself, and Dream looks out the window of the ship. Laser cutter, technically he thinks to himself. A very impulsive thing after a bad day, and thinking of the hot mechanic ― and, well. 

“How much will it be?” Dream asks, leaning over Hob’s shoulder, who sighs and straightens up suddenly. 

“There are better ways,” Hob cuts himself off with a huff, glaring at him, and Dream tries not to squirm under it, blood rushing south at how close they are, and the intensity of Hob’s gaze. 

“Yes?” He breathes, keeping still. 

There’s another sigh from Hob, ears red as he turns around to fix up the mangled insides of the panel. “You think you’re so smart, fucking up your own ship like this to see me,” Hob says and Dream freezes ― mortified, and aroused at being caught so easily. 

“I,” he squeaks, face feeling hot as Hob continues to work on the panel. “I had ― I. Apologise,” he manages. There’s a ding on his tablet and he jumps, looking down to see the amount of credits needed, Hob still staring at the ship as Dream pays quietly. 

 Hob sighs once more, facing him and walking over to him, leaning near a table, and Dream gets the impression that Hob's unimpressed with him. “You do realise being my partner means you don’t have to pay to see me, right?” Hob says dryly, their foreheads touching, and Dream’s face heats even more. 

“Bad day,” he says quietly as Hob kisses him, body hot against his front and Dream melts into it, edge of the table digging into his back as Hob’s hands grasp his face, the smell of ozone strong with the tools that Hob uses.

“Dream,” Hob sighs into his mouth, and his arousal is aches as one of Hob’s hands goes down his body, “really should punish you for doing this to your ship, when you could’ve just seen me without doing this,” Hob mutters to himself and Dream whines, bucking up into Hob’s body.

“How?” He asks, voice gravelly as Hob cups his cloth-covered cock, blood pounding in his ears as Hob presses down onto it, making him whimper. 

“Not sure yet,” Hob says, other hand pulling his head back, and Dream lets out a whine as Hob licks his neck.

[being-of-rain]

A torrent of random thoughts from my Classic Who watch, this time the first half of season 20.

I don’t know what fandom wisdom says abut Arc of Infinity (fandom wisdom isn’t something I give a lot of credit to anyway), but I’m not really a bit fan. The story structure is so weird, having a plot going on in Amsterdam and the Gallifreyan Capitol that don’t converge apart from the odd phone call until the final part. That said, the scene were the attack on the Tardis is intercut with the boys sleeping uneasily in a crypt was delightfully gothic. But apart from the production team once again taking as many opportunities as possible to show off their overseas location filming, most of the story was some rather dull Gallifreyan politics. It definitely felt like the Doctor should’ve ended up on Earth sooner. Nyssa almost feels like a new character with all the focus she’s forced to get when she’s the Doctor’s only companion. I don’t think she was written or acted as emotionally before she is when the Doctor is in danger on Gallifrey. Plus, it was cool to see her go on a killing spree (or stunning spree, whatever), which is a visual which sticks out in my mind when I think about this story. It’s cool to see Tegan investigating things on her own too, and cute to see the two companions happy to meet up at the end, even if the Doctor is hilariously but obviously annoyed at her rejoining them. That adds to my theory that he kinda left Tegan behind on purpose last story, an action that for some reason goes unaddressed and unexplained, but honestly it was probably good for Tegan to get some time to grieve Adric without the Doctor forcing her to repress everything. Do I just not like the Fifth Doctor? No, I think I just don’t like it when main characters have flaws that go so blatantly ignored. It’s nice to get a Leela reference and a Romana reference! I know the Doctor must have friends on Gallifrey, but it feels weird that Damon and Hedin are treated almost like characters we should know. Maybe it feels particularly weird because the story goes so unnecessarily hard on the ‘good guys are actually the bad guys’ fake-out. Also, some truly weird and unbelievable statistics are pulled out about the Time Lords. I know it feels extra weird now with all the EU content out there, but even for just the show thus far they felt silly. A Tardis recall circuit has apparently only been used twice before in Time Lord history. A Time Lord has only been destroyed (legally executed, presumably?) once before. And Borusa says “You know that capital punishment has long been abolished here in Gallifrey.” Didn’t the Doctor literally get put on death row previously in The Deadly Assassin?? Any other random points? Well, I don’t like to nitpick- no that’s not true, everyone likes to nitpick. I don’t like to let nickpicking ruin my enjoyment, but if a story brings up so many small points that it doesn’t satisfactorily answer, it starts to weigh it down. What exactly is the Ergon? How does the Doctor know about it and its name? What does the Ergon’s gun do to Tegan- teleport her dramatically? If so, why doesn’t it do the same to the Ergon later? The Ergon in general just looked funny enough to kind of ruin the aesthetic of the crypt scenes, sorry, which is a shame because the crypt aesthetic was one of the only things the story had going for it for me. I don’t know where ‘the spacetime element’ is an interesting or bad name for a piece of the Tardis console. Similarly, I don’t know whether I like the title Arc of Infinity- it’s a good title, but the arc is something that isn’t explained very well and doesn’t really have a large part in the story. Is there a little cafe on a walkway of the Capitol? Fun. And everyone talks about “No not the mind probe,” but nobody talks about the even flatter delivery of “Impulse laser?” near the start of this story from a guy who is about to be shot by an impulse laser. Finally, Omega himself looks great when he takes off his mask- gotta love Peter Davison in a black turtleneck. But things take such a turn in the last 10 minutes of the story. Omega has a quick scene where he simply enjoys some organ music and the view of a canal. It adds such a (sudden) tragic element to him, of a man who just wants to live in the real world again. Which is amplified when his final scene is played (again suddenly) extremely gritty, with the Doctor having to shoot him and cause his apparently agonising death. The last-minute tone shift is even more jarring when the show feels like it immediately chickens out on it, with the Doctor almost immediately after saying Omega might not be dead then ending the episode on a light-hearted note. I don’t often criticise the genius of author Nev Fountain, but I can’t help but feel he missed some obvious hooks there in his sequel audio Omega, in which Omega suddenly wants to return to his antimatter universe and leave the real one behind.

Snakedance! I think it’s not quite as good as Kinda, but it’s still really good! The way it creates a very believable and relatable world is so neat (maybe helped by my own interest in archaeology and ancient history studies which is represented in this). There’s always very realistic dialogue and acting. The plot is a little slower and more meandering than Kinda, and it’s a shame Tegan isn’t in it more (a downside Kinda shared). I don’t really have as much to say about the themes of this one like I did with the previous Mara story, though I’m sure they’re there. I’m left with just things to list off that I liked about the story. Part one has another fantastic cliffhanger, made better by the Fifth Doctor theme tune. Some of the Mara moments are genuinely unnerving, like Lon talking with Tegan’s voice. Lon is a great character, and I wish he was in more of it without being possessed tbh. But I did like how sometimes the Mara possessed people, and sometimes it likes to play on the temptations of people in order to manipulate them. I also liked the creepy moment that the carnival man is standing still in the dark cave to surprise someone, with the added irony that that’s what he suggested Tegan do at his hall of mirrors earlier. There’s a lot of altered states in this one; dreams, the sound machine, the snake poison, possession. And the use of sound could be very striking. The cutting between the noise of the ceremony and the calm of the Doctor meditating with Dojjen is very striking. And the same things with the fucking killer ending which goes from the intensity of the Mara trying to manifest to the silent horror of everyone recovering from it, followed by the end credits screaming in before you barely get a moment to process it all. I’m still not sure if I love it or not, but it sure as heck leaves an impression.

I spent ages looking for Mawdryn Undead and Terminus without the optional CGI special effects that were included on the DVD, because for some reason they’re hard to find online. I don’t know why people would prefer those versions: to me the old practical methods and less sophisticated special effects are not only part of the charm, but part of the original production and storytelling. It’s the same reason I enjoy the original versions of the Star Wars films rather than the many re-edits. Not so much because I’m a purist (at least I hope not), but because I like watching these things as products of their historical times as well as for their stories. Besides, the added CGI effects can often break my suspension of disbelief more than bad practical effects (even if it’s good CGI, which is not guaranteed) because it simply doesn’t look like it fits with the rest of the show. Also, literally who would want to watch Mawdryn Undead without the eye-wateringly horrendous original ‘80s training video effect behind Turlough and the Black Guardian when they make their dark deal. The new effect is the most boring thing ever and actually looks halfway good. Get that shit outtahere.

ANYWAY. Mawdryn Undead is a story of many different tones for me. This bit will mostly be me listing off random things in the story in roughly chronological order. The first episode almost felt like it could be a pantomime, though that’s probably mostly because of the Black Guardian in all his crow-headed glory, and the sometimes hysterical background music. If you haven’t watched the scene in the first few minutes when Turlough steals and then crashes the Brigadier’s car, please god look it up. Bloody iconic. It’s hilarious watching how quickly and thoroughly Turlough throws Hippo under the bus for stealing the car, but very satisfying for me personally who wants more deeply flawed and antagonistic companions. Also, my longest-running DnD character is called Hippo, so hearing the name bandied about felt so weird jsldkfj. It was kind of surprising how rude the Brig could be to students, but maybe that’s just what you’d expect to hear at a British public school. Considering how the Black Guardian pretended to have pure intentions, it was also kind of surprising to hear him shout “In the name of all that is evil!” at the end of the episode, but again maybe that’s just what you’d expect to hear at a British public school. I started vibing with the story way more than I expected when it became the Brigadier recounting to the Doctor the events of 6 years ago, which was when the Doctor’s present companions met him, and for the audience both plots were unwinding simultaneously. I love that kind of plotting in a time travel story. Makes it extremely satisfying to follow when the plots effect each other and weave together (eg when the Brigadier says he remembers the Tardis leaving without him, when actually his past self didn’t see that happen until part four). I also liked how the Doctor figures out something’s up with Turlough very quickly and takes a moment to show that he disapproves, but still keeps him around anyway. I imagine it’s a mix of wanting Turlough where he can see him, and wanting to help him. Speaking of what Turlough has going on, is it just me who thought it wasn’t made very clear that he’s an alien in his first story? There’s maybe a few lines that suggest it, and it was obviously the plan from the beginning since the following stories reference it, but honestly if I went into this not knowing he was an alien I’m not sure I would’ve figured it out by the end of this one. Why would Tegan and Nyssa assume that the burnt figure they find is the Doctor? It’s a kinda fun mistaken identity plot that adds to the many moving parts of this story, but obviously the burnt figure was imagined to be a lot harder to identify in the script. But I don’t mind too much when it’s followed up by Tegan’s healthy scepticism in the face of Nyssa’s panicked belief, and the Brigadier’s hesitant attempts to keep both sides happy. Tegan’s honestly very on point in this story. Watching through her episodes make me feel like she gets flanderised a bit in the audios as an argumentative woman who can’t follow a sci-fi plot. As time goes on, she’s shown a lot to be an extremely competent companion in the face of the Doctor’s adventures: see also Earthshock. The backhalf of the story gets a bit bogged down with everyone wandering around Mawdryn’s spaceship. Makes me feel like this would’ve been a very tight three-parter. But it is hilarious that there’s like half a dozen different factions with their own goals, and literally all of them want the past Brigadier to leave. So he spends ages getting shuffled round and out of the way, but he still ends up doing exactly what nobody wanted him to do at the end. The brigadiers creating their own temporal energy is a clever way to end the plot, but the fact that they coincidentally do it at the exact microsecond they needed to feels a bit too contrived. It feels like this could’ve been one of the best plots in Classic Who with just a few tweaks. Finally, the moral dilemma in this story is very interesting, but the Doctor’s response to it is even more so. It’s never brought up that killing Mawdryn’s crew is what he objects to, only that he doesn’t want to sacrifice his own future regenerations. He repeatedly objects to that aspect, and specifically phrases it as the end of him as a Time Lord. Could you say something about the Doctor preaching against the superiority of his people but then hesitating to give up their benefits? Maybe link it to this Doctor’s rather old world British aesthetic? I’m sure there’s other ways you could look at this situation too, since it’s such a complex moral issue.

[redthoughtsblog]

Bloodstained

It started when things got bad.

Like, really bad. Like, certain death, bad. It was the sort of bad that clouded over everything - a solid, tangible thing, and damn near impossible to see past. It was the finality of death lurking so near that had them all acting so unlike themselves.

They had sensed it before the first attack. Months before the first person was killed, Lydia had spent an entire night screaming, being held down by Scott, and sedated by Deaton, and shielded by Parrish. Parrish lasted for an hour or two before passing out from the pain, his ears and nose bleeding as he hit the floor, which Deaton had seemed mildly concerned about before he stuck a fucking horse needle in Lydia’s arm and gave her some pills. Stiles lost count of how much medication Deaton had put her on about halfway through the night.

“For the pain.” Deaton had said when he had given her yet another injection, and his gaze fell on Scott. And when Scott’s veins blackened too quickly and he was left unable to breathe for a minute, Liam stepped up. And then Derek. And then just about everyone else who thought they had a hope in hell of taking her pain away and making it bearable for her.

She told Stiles the next day that it hadn’t even made a difference. She hadn't even noticed they were taking her pain, because it was just that excruciating.  She didn’t speak about what she saw, but, less than a week later, Stiles walked in on her scrubbing her hands so hard they started bleeding.

“There’s so much blood, Stiles.” She had whispered, even when her hands were cleaned and dry and Stiles’ arms were wrapped around her. “I can't get it off. It won’t come off.”

“It’s all off, Lyds.” He said softly, pulling away from the hug and showing her her hands. “See? There’s no more blood. All clean.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide and glassy. Her voice was a whisper when she spoke. “You don’t get it. It’s still there, Stiles. I can still see it.” She let out a shaky breath. “I can always see it.”

“See what?”

She held up her shaky hands, tears rolling down her face. “My hands are covered in blood.”

In the months that followed, everyone started acting more impulsively. They had already been through something like this before with the beast. They were too familiar with having too much at stake. The whole town could feel it.

A lot changed in those four months. Scott and Malia broke up on a whim. Lydia and Parrish got engaged. Peter, of all people, was settling down with some beta from a nearby pack.

And, of course, Stiles and Derek decided it was time they started including more benefits in their friendship.

It had happened after a fight. It was the first time they had fought the coven up close, and it was painfully obvious that they were out of their depth.

Derek was taking quite some time to heal afterwards, and Stiles was trying to avoid his dad's lectures about Stiles and his pack being out past the town curfew (which seemed irrelevant when facing down the most powerful coven in the world but, eh, parents), so he was stalling by staying at Derek’s for as long as possible.

“Shouldn’t you be healing by now?” Stiles asked, his chin hanging off the back of the sofa as he watched Derek lift up his shirt and inspect the gash on his stomach.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving by now?” Derek said, dropping his shirt with a glare to cover up the wound.

“I’m serious, Derek. We don’t know anything about these people. Can witch magic kill werewolves?”

Derek sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know, Stiles.”

By this point, as the resident human, Stiles had picked up some supernatural survival skills. Argent had showed him how to use a gun last year, and Derek had been teaching him how to fight for at least six months by now. Stiles had also done extensive research on natural magical healing remedies, so he was something of an expert in the field.

And Derek was not looking good.

“Can I take a look at it?” Stiles asked, curiosity leaking into the edges of his words.

Derek frowned. “What about my personality makes you think I’d say yes to that?”

Except, Derek did say yes, eventually. In the middle of the night, he stumbled over to where Stiles was crashing on his couch, and he shook him awake, despite having insisted that he was fine just a few hours earlier.

“St... Stiles.” Derek’s voice was raspy, and Stiles shot up instantly at the sound of it.

“What’s up? Are you okay?” Stiles said, and his voice was only slightly slurred from sleep.

“I started...” Derek looked down at his shirt, where his hand was pressed to his stomach, blood staining his hand and shirt red. “I started bleeding again.”

“Shit. Okay, okay.” Stiles sat Derek down on the sofa and turned on all of the lights, which he regretted doing almost instantly. Derek was looking paler than he’d ever seen him, sweat sticking his hair up in odd ways, and there was much more blood than he was expecting. “Okay. It’s gonna be fine. This needs to be off, okay?” He said, lifting up the bottom of the t-shirt Derek had been sleeping in.

Derek lifted up his arms to let Stiles pull it off of him, and Stiles ignored how intimate it felt. He knelt down beside Derek, inspecting the area for a few moments, before frowning.

“It’s...” He trailed off, leaning in closer to get a better look.

Stiles must have been silent for a moment too long, because Derek let out a soft growl. “What is it?”

Stiles shook his head. “It should be getting better.” He murmured to himself, before calling Deaton and telling him to get to the loft A-fucking-SAP.

Deaton responded by asking why Derek hadn’t come to him about this hours ago, because didn’t you know that werewolves don’t heal from a coven’s magic if it’s strong enough? And didn’t you know that if the magic runs deep enough in the wound, you can die within the hour? Stiles asked him how he could have possibly known that, and Deaton had ignored him and told him that he was lucky there was a simple solution - to sew Derek up. And it just so happened that Deaton was out of town this weekend, which was the biggest inconvenience Stiles had experienced in a while.

“Okay, I’ll get us to Melissa.” Stiles said, hurrying to help Derek up, but Derek stopped him.

“Stiles, I’m...” His breaths were heavy and uneven, and his voice was weak as he looked down at his stomach. Now the blood was covering his hands, and really, how was there this much blood, that couldn’t be good. “You gotta do it now. It’s...”

“Deaton, I gotta do it now.” Stiles said, and his voice was shaking, but his hands were stiller than ever, so that was a good sign, right?

Stiles worked on distracting Derek, keeping him awake as he literally sewed him up, rambling his way through it, as though this was just your average Tuesday. Which, it kind of was for Stiles.

“I bet you’re glad it was me who decided to crash on your couch.” He was saying, pushing the needle through Derek’s skin, focusing on his own words, rather than the fact that the needle was going through Derek’s skin. “I carry a first aid kit everywhere, which has, coincidentally, worked out perfectly.” His fingers slipped a few times, all of the blood making it difficult to keep a hold of the right things. “You don’t have a single band-aid in here, dude.” He forced himself to hear past the ringing in his ears that seemed to get louder every time he focused on the blood. So much of it. Too much. “When you’re all healed up, I’m going out and I’m getting you all the essentials. Can never be too careful, right?”

In the back of his mind, Stiles was registering the fact that Derek was humming along to his conversation, and he was eternally grateful to know that Derek was, at least, still conscious.

By the time Stiles finished up the stitches that Deaton had coached him through, he was fairly certain Derek wasn’t going to die anymore. He was already looking less pale, and he was returning to a normal temperature, so Deaton wished them goodbye with clear instructions to call if anything else happens.

When the phone disconnected, Stiles and Derek sat for a few moments in complete silence. Stiles watched Derek carefully, making sure he really was okay, and Derek simply took a minute to get his breath back to normal.

Stiles realised that his hands were still very much on Derek’s stomach, and that was very much not where his hands should be, so he removed them. He probably would have washed the blood off his hands, helped Derek get ready to go back to sleep again, then passed out himself, if Derek hadn’t made that noise when Stiles stopped touching him. It was almost a needy whimper, and it made it seem as though Stiles’ hands were supposed to be back on Derek’s stomach.

They both stayed like that, in silence, for a minute. Derek’s eyes were slightly wider than usual, as though he had just realised that he had made that sound out loud. And Stiles was sure his face looked the same, because he suddenly realised how close he and Derek were. In fact, they were in a very... compromising position.

Derek was sitting shirtless on the couch, his legs spread wide to make room for where Stiles was sitting, wedged in between Derek’s thighs. Stiles supposed that the whole mortal danger portion of the evening had distracted him from how fucking close he was to Derek.

Stiles wasn’t sure quite why he did it, but he felt himself reaching up to Derek’s cheek, smoothing away some hair that was stuck to his face. They both seemed to hold their breaths at that, neither of them daring to move.

Derek seemed weirdly okay with Stiles touching him like this, so Stiles let himself drag his hand down, over Derek’s jaw, down his throat, down his chest, before it finally came to a stop right over Derek’s stitches. Derek was breathing heavily, as was Stiles, and both of them had been looking at each other for so long.

Stiles didn’t think much about it before he did it. All he could think about was how much of Derek’s blood was on his hands - how much of it was stained down Derek’s cheek, jaw, throat, chest, reminding Stiles of exactly where he had touched Derek. And then Stiles was kissing him, hard.

The kiss was all heat and years of built up anger and bliss, aside from Stiles’ hand, which still rested over Derek’s stitches with a feather-light touch, marking where Stiles couldn’t touch roughly.

By the time they were finished the first time, they finally realised they were covered in blood.

The second time was spent in the shower.

The third time happened because they were finally clean, and wasn’t that a cause for celebration?

They didn’t have the energy for a fourth time that night, but they kept hooking up after that. It was the most satisfying coping mechanism Stiles had had in a long time. They would see each other after pack meetings, after fights, when they were stressed, angry, happy, when they were bored. They saw each other a lot.

Which was good, because it meant Stiles was able to keep an eye on how the stitches were healing. They were healing as though Derek wasn’t even a werewolf, which worried Stiles at first, but he silently and selfishly loved knowing that it would eventually scar.

They never spoke about what they were. Now was not the time for things such as communication. Now was the time for being dumb and reckless, because who knew if they would make it out alive?

It only occurred to Stiles that he wanted to make it out alive when he was standing with his pack, ready to fight the most powerful witches known to man. He felt the air around him pulse with magic, he heard someone screaming in the distance, and he saw Lydia looking down at her shaking hands as though she could still see the blood dripping off of them.

That was when he realised that he wanted to make it out alive for Derek. With Derek. Because, fuck it, they had already almost died enough for one lifetime.

He realised it as his heart sped up and his throat went tight and his whole body trembled under the weight of the air as they all stood, waiting for the coven to come. Waiting for death.

He guessed Derek realised it at the same time, too, because his fingers laced with Stiles’ and the last thing Stiles heard before the coven finally came into view was Derek’s whispered voice.

Four whispered words, and then the air thickened unbearably, and then they were here.

“Stay alive. For me.”

[bonesandthebees]

I’m going to skip to the Quackity thing now because in a chapter full of interesting things. And I mean full. Like all of it is super intriguing. This one wins the top spot. Like, he disconnects from a call (presumably business related) just to tease/insult Wilbur (and Tommy) because they look defeated. Also, Puffy is right there. He’s so cocky.

He’s good at reading people. He knows how to get under Wilbur’s skin and by extension, thinks he knows him too. But Wilbur just went through another emotional rollercoaster. He’s worried about Niki and no one cares about him or his brother. He does not need Quackity in his life. He has made it clear he does no want him either, but in doing so only make himself look more fun to mess with.

And Quackity can’t help himself. He needs to push the buttons. Maybe to title comment stung too of maybe he just doesn’t like royalty in general. Maybe Wilbur is annoying because he’s unpredictable due to being mentally unstable. Or maybe he just thinks he’s powerful enough to get away with it. But everything he says goes straight for the throat.

So Quackity hit Wilbur right where it hurts (with words) and the entire situation escalates instantly because Wilbur is nearing the end of his rope and his self-control is slipping. (Still not slipping enough for him to use his Voice, but we are getting there. It really is his last resort for life or death situations and they can’t push him that far. Yet. It’s still Chekhov's gun).

We don’t see Quackity’s reaction. I don’t know if he was surprised or scared or instantly angry. But he did not expect it. And in the time it take Puffy to pull Wilbur of he definitely gets anger. Quackity is impulsive too. So he escalates the situation further by hitting Wilbur when he had no reason too. In turn activating Tommy’s protectiveness because he had to watch people debate whether or not to kill his brother helplessly and he will never let anyone hurt or threaten him again. (which is probably the reason Tommy wants to learn to fight because ‘Wilbur doesn’t do violence’)

So Tommy shoves Quackity away from Wilbur similarly to went Techno threatened him and Tommy gets between them. And now puffy has to restrain him because out of all of them Tommy is probably the biggest threat since Techno taught him how to fight. (and she doesn’t know about the Voice. And that’s how Phil and Techno find them because they were probably being loud.

1/2

-🌲

HAHA THE QUACKITY PART MY FAVORITE PART OF THE CHAPTER

Quackity is literally such a cocky bastard. He's not necessarily trying to be a dick because he has any personal beef with Wilbur, he just thinks it's fun to rile him up. also, he wants to know why Phil took in these two random kids from Eldingvegr. like politically he gets it, but he doesn't get why Phil wouldn't just kill them instead of negotiating with them, so he wants to find out what they're both like to see why Phil is so interested. and the way he does that is by figuring out what makes people tick. (also, yeah, he's not a fan of royalty in general either)

to be fair, Quackity didn't realize just how hard his comment would hit. he didn't know what went down in the throne room right before he saw them. it was unfortunately him trying to make a casual barb that hit way too close to home because of how raw Wilbur was from the call with Themis.

Quackity was both freaked out and pissed as hell that Wilbur slammed him into the wall like that. he didn't expect that out of a royal, and also he doesn't have a very good reaction to physical violence. so yeah once Puffy pulls Wilbur off, Quackity sees red and doesn't think of anything else except making it clear that Wilbur can't touch him again. so he punches him, and Tommy starts freaking out because no matter how much they fight, Tommy is always going to try and protect his brother. Wilbur isn't the violent one, so if someone physically harms him? Tommy will try fuck them up.

lmao yup Puffy immediately ditches Wilbur to restrain Tommy because she knows Tommy could actually kick Quackity's ass if he wanted thanks to Techno's training. Quackity can throw a punch, but he's not much of a fighter. and then Phil and Techno just walk in like that guy with the pizza meme walking into the room on fire

[probably-a-plant-thing]

Explaining that Tasty OC Info

So I got this ask a while ago, and while I'd like to post one massive comic series to explain them, I kinda can't lmao.

BUT I CAN RANT IN A BLOG POST.

SO LETS GET THE BALL ROLLIN.

So the story with Ivanushka (who this ask is referring to, I believe) doesn't really have a name yet just because I'm bad with that kinda shit.

What I'm gonna do is slap a height chart here:

Then explain each character left -> right

Ivanushka 29: [Peach] Ivan starts the story as an immigrant from Russia, living in San Francisco with his boyfriend Vladislav. He works as a bridge tollbooth operator on the Golden Gate Bridge. So one night on the bridge, it's near the end of Ivan's shift and he gets into an argument with a guy about being short ten cents and gets shot in the argument (because America)

Then when he wakes up in the hospital perfectly fine, naturally he's confused as hell but turns out he got an emergency blood donation from his lovely boyfriend who just "happens" to have his exact rare blood type. But WHOA HEY Vlad has been a shapeshifter this whole ass time? Holy shit-?

Anyway so long story short, Vlad's shapeshifter blood in Vlad caused him to turn into a human/shapeshifter hybrid I call a "Form Morph" and he can only change his head because that's where he was shot, blah blah. Now he's in debt with the hospital and Vlad knows just who to talk to.

Vladislav 30: [Blue] Vladislav immigrated to the states with Ivan and he's basically the biggest dumbass with the biggest confidence and the least impulse control. In order to immigrate cheaply, he made a deal with a gang in San Fran to smuggle them into the city and make them papers for the low low price of doing whatever the gang leader wants. Pretty easy, huh?

So when Ivan is shot and Vlad takes him to the hospital, he's basically now trying to help Ivan understand his new shifty powers and also confine his boss it's a great idea to let the emotionally unstable wreak into the crime circle.

Cowboy 35: [Green] Cowboy is more a nickname he forces everyone to call him, but basically, this is the southern son-of-a-bitch that shot Ivan over ten cents. He's a gun-loving, all-proud Texan that ran over to Cali because his family was busted for illegal moonshine.

He has more relevance to the story, but I don't wanna spoil everything for these guys.

Fox 25: [Orange] Fox is yet another nickname, he's a mutant like Vlad and 1/3 Ivan except instead of a shapeshifter, he can use mind control! He's been a thief for the majority of his life on the streets, so he started collecting gang members to make his little adventures more exciting.

Though through years of living in his own mind and the minds of others, he's gotten pretty arrogant and gets easily pissed when things don't go his way. He's a big man-child except with the ability to make you do whatever he wants. Normally he's "nice" but he does get his scary moments.

Styles 35: [Purple] Styles is the oldest/first member of Fox's gang and is basically the guy's right-hand man. He doesn't have any powers other than the power of alcoholism and common sense. He used to work at a rodeo derby until he met Fox

Frank 20: [Red] Franky is the youngest official member and he's basically the gang handyman. Again, he's just your average guy (I realize I forgot to color it, but Franky is supposed to be Latino-Japanese)

But yeah that's the main info I can give about these dorks right off the top of my head, but please! If you bothered to make it this far then thank you a lot! I love talking about my OCs. Never be afraid to ask for further info on these guys! I have even more lil guys I could talk about in different universes/stories.

I plan on making little comics to go into these guy's dynamics more, but like. Motivation n shit, ya know

[stephypublisher1]

What I want my Neighbors to Know about my Mental Illness

I live in an apartment complex in a busy part of my town. From my second-floor balcony, I can see my neighbors coming and going from their jobs, appointments, and other activities. I don't really know any of my neighbors on a personal level. I live a rather isolated life except for occasional visits from my family. So, my interactions with my neighbors consist of a polite "Hello, how are you?" or "Have a nice day," exchanges. I sometimes wonder how they would react towards me if they knew I have a diagnosed severe mental illness. Most people know that a mental illness involves one's thinking or behavior. However, people may not know that all mental illnesses can be treated with a combination of medication and/or therapy. I take antipsychotic medications and also an antidepressant. Together these medications help me control my schizophrenic symptoms. To look at me, one would think I was physically fit, well groomed, and reasonably healthy. Although my disease is not outwardly detectable, it does greatly affects my life, just as heart disease, respiratory disease, or some other illness might affect someone else. If my neighbors found out that I have schizophrenia, I would want them to know that I am not a danger to them. I would not want them to believe the stigma that comes with schizophrenia. I do not own a gun, and I am not a serial killer. In fact, it is more likely that I would be the victim of a crime rather than the criminal.

If my neighbors found out about my diagnosis of schizophrenia I would do my best to start a dialogue, and let them know that the medications I take control my schizophrenic impulses. I would want them to know that I do have a productive life as a writer and mental health advocate. Words can be powerful, or at least they can be, if used in the right way. I use my words as an advocate to educate people about what it is like to live every day with a brain disease. There is no question about my mental illness that I am afraid to answer, and if I cannot answer I would do my best to find the answer. I volunteer with mental health advocacy groups because connecting with people and sharing my story outweighs any financial gain I might receive from my writing. I have always enjoyed physical exercise. From my balcony I can see some of my neighbors’ playing sports. I love to play basketball, and there is a new basketball court near my apartment. I would want my neighbors to know that I would enjoy being invited to play pick-up basketball or volleyball with them. I also enjoy working out, and there is a great fitness center in my apartment complex. It would be great to have a workout buddy since being active helps me manage my symptoms.

https://www.stephypublishers.com/jpssr/pdf/JPSSR.MS.ID.000531.pdf

[out-of-context-batfam]

Legion of Super-Heroes (1990) #99

[peterbarnes]

Dating Jason Todd Would Include...

A/N: I am LOVING me some Jason Todd right now. Season 3 of Titans is so good, and I might start reading some Red Hood comics, especially since he might be getting a spin-off??

Btw I imagine this when he’s still robin, not red hood.

Masterlist

- first thing’s first, this man is a simp

- when he really likes someone, he doesn’t half-ass anything

- he thinks of himself as a fuck-up and he refuses to let himself ruin you

- which means you don’t know about his alter ego

- and he doesn’t let bruce anywhere near you

- but he’ll make up for those things in other ways

- he’ll go all out on dates

- stealing bruce’s credit card and taking you to the nicest restaurant in gotham

- or (more your guys’ style) sometimes you’ll take late night strolls through the park

- and eat the grossest food truck food you can find

- those are the nights where your laughter is constant

- his favorite nights, where he doesn’t want to go home

- he always thought everyone hated him, that there was just something wrong with him

- so to see you laughing so freely, loving him so freely, and being so happy

- it quite literally changed the way he saw everything 

- he thought freedom was Robin? no freedom is loving you

- but he is part of the batfam, so it’s not all sunshine and rainbows

- his PTSD rages, especially at night

- but he never wants to talk about it- the fear, the nightmares

- you feel so in the dark and disconnected to him that it leads to your first fight

- Jason’s pretty impulsive and emotional so he leaves it all on the floor

- he tries to push you away, to tell you that he doesn’t really care about you, that he can’t trust you

- “You know what, just leave... fucking leave!”

- you didn’t talk for a week

- and every second of it Jason was beating himself up for the way he treated you

- he didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat

- he even let bruce hold him as he broke down

- “I told myself that no matter what I did, I wouldn’t hurt her, I wouldn’t fuck this up. But I did, of course I fucking did!” 

- the next time he saw you wasn’t exactly ideal

- he got alerted about a bank robbery with multiple hostages and took off in the batmobile

- he definitely didn’t expect you to be there, sitting on the floor all disheveled as duck tape covered your mouth 

- at first he froze, he didn’t know what to do

- but as soon as the robber pressed a gun to your head, it was like he exploded

- he beat the guy’s ass so bad he was sent to the ICU

- and when he was done the first thing he did was run over to you to see if you were okay

- the mask may have covered some of his face, but his defining features were still the same

- his fluffy hair, sharp jawline, sad eyes

- he knew the second he knelt down in front of you that you recognized him

- he slowly took of the tape from your mouth and the first thing you said was his name

- you whispered it as you cupped his cheeks

- this boy burst into tears

- “I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it. I was trying to-to keep you out of everything... you deserve so much better than me”

- you pulled him away from all the reporters for some privacy and just held him

- “I know, Jay. I know”

- that was when you guys said your first I love you’s

- after that, and a lot of communication work, your guys’ relationship soars

- you’ll fully go up to him when he’s patrolling in full costume and pretend your a random fan who just needs to get a photo with him

- you have a full folder of hilarious selfies with a crime scene in the background

- and he’ll sneak up on you when you’re walking down the street

- “excuse me, ma’am, puddles can be quite dangerous, let me help you”

- and then when the night comes, and along with it the nightmares, he finally lets you take care of him

- because you made him realize that asking for help isn’t a bad thing, and it doesn’t make him weak

- “thank you, for everything. I love you so much, angel”

- “love you more, Jay”

[chained-to-the-mirror]

PREFACE: I never make text posts, but I have been having insomnia for at least two weeks now and nothing else helps, so I’m trying this, per friend suggestion.

So, I have been watching Our Flag Means Death obsessively, and feeling feelings about Ed in particular. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this strong a connection to a character before, which is a bit strange, because I’m outwardly so different from him. He’s cool, beautiful, smart, feared - and I’m none of these things! But listen... That’s the surface. That’s how he appears - and of course he is all of those things too, but he’s SO RELATABLE in what motivates him and how he reacts to things.

Ed has many faces. He has a face for every person (or group of people) that he interacts with. He can be whatever the audience wants him to be, right? But who IS he really? I think that’s what he needs to figure out, and S1 has started with that... but we have yet to see the True Ed. Anyway, he is all about expectations. I relate to that so much! Always thinking about what others want from me, not really knowing who I am? That’s been most of my life. These days I’m a lot better about it, but I still catch myself doing it. Like Ed, I have a compulsive need to give people what they want, at the expense of my self. Neither of us has a very good knowing of self, which is why I guess it used to be relatively easy to just adapt to the company we keep. 

I read a fic last night that made me realize another thing that we have in common: we are both terrified of failing and looking stupid. Ed can’t handle people laughing at him, he can’t handle not knowing how to do a new thing instantly, perfectly. I think what he does with Stede is incredibly brave, when he lets Stede teach him about dining and things like that. He makes himself vulnerable (and Stede of course never mocks him, bless him). I often don’t even try things because I hate failing, and I would rather die than be laughed at. I guess it comes from years of bullying, I don’t know, but I can’t take a joke AT ALL, and I feel like me being bad at something is a joke. When those “fancy” people at dinner at the party laugh at Ed, I feel his panic. It’s very difficult to watch. I also get the violent impulse he has, pulling his gun and saying “Nobody laughs at me” - and I’m not really a violent person, not towards others, but the thoughts I’ve had... yeah. Poor Ed, I just want to wrap him in a blanket and hug him tight.

Also, at the very end when he is crying his heart out, all alone in the dim captain’s quarters... I feel gut wrenching pain every time, and it doesn’t get any easier. I may be fortunate in my life now in that I rarely feel like he does in that moment, but it was a very common experience for me, and it still happens sometimes. It’s the feeling of making your own prison, then wanting to claw yourself out of it, but realizing you have no fingernails left. He is completely empty, completely alone, and it will be like that forever until he finally dies. He realizes all that, and of course the heartbreak of Stede abandoning him is a part of it, but it’s nowhere near all of it. The fic I read yesterday really goes into this, into how Stede was really just a catalyst (this is the fic, read it and die, it’s so good) and all the emptiness, all the loneliness, all the numbing boredom was already there long before he arrived. I know Stede is really the main protagonist, but to me it’s just so much a show about Ed and his journey. Maybe I’ve read too much meta? Anyway, what I think Ed feels is that he is forever on the outside. As Blackbeard, he has to keep everyone at arm’s length - and who he is with Stede is another role, one he feels much more at home in but still, it’s a role, and it’s him pushing the Blackbeard side in the shadows in favor of being this soft person that people maybe would love (instead of fear). And he still feels like he’s not belonging, not really. And now he can’t be Ed anymore, even that softer role has been ripped away from him. He will forever be doomed to being Blackbeard, and really, how long will he able to keep it up now that he knows there may have been other options? (I need S2 right now! I need to find out who he is!) 

So he cries alone, like a lost child. it’s so painful, I die just thinking about it. It’s the chronic feeling of emptiness, that Stede partially filled - but now that Stede’s gone, he’s back to square one. Or actually several steps behind that, because he’s had a taste of other things. 

I don’t know where I’m going with all this. I just feel so strongly for him and with him... I think my subconscious is keeping me awake, or keeps waking me up, and I don’t know what to do about it. I keep reading fic, and meta, and rewatching the show over and over. It’s taken over my life. It’s vitally important to me that Ed gets a happy ending. I don’t mean that I want him to be together with Stede and happy (though OF COURSE I WANT THAT) - I want him to be happy, period. Just as himself, as Edward. I want him to know who he is and accept it, at least mostly. 

This was supposed to be a gay pirate comedy! How am I in this situation? 

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Word Count: 5796 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader Gender: Female Era: The prison Summary: After a close call on a run, the archer explodes at you.

Warnings: Language

Your name: submit What is this?

Another run, another disaster. You needed supplies. What you got was a pile of problems. Daryl, Maggie, Glenn and you ended up in a tight spot with far more walkers than you had expected. You were trapped inside a small flower shop with walkers banging on all the exits.

“How many you got, Glenn?” you whispered harshly to him over the banging fists and gnashing jaws.

“Uhh, too many out this way. Maybe twenty. Possibly more.”

“Fuck…” you muttered. You rushed back to Daryl and Maggie who were both leaning against the side door with all their weight to keep it closed. “Too many out Glenn’s way,” you relayed. You sighed and wiped a slightly shaky hand across your sweaty brow. “I—I’m gonna clear out the back.”

“What?!” Maggie snapped, readjusting her back against the door. “You said there were ten walkers out there.”

Daryl shook his head vehemently. “Nah! That’s too many. Ya can’t—”

“We don’t have a goddamn choice! Look, it’s the exit with the fewest geeks, so unless either of you can suddenly come up with a new and brilliant idea in the next five seconds, I’m doing it!” You waited, staring at both of them.

You shook your head. “You’ve gotta keep this door shut with Maggie until the back is clear. She and I won't be enough. I’m going.”

“Wait—Y/N!” Daryl yelled after you but you were already gone, disappearing into the back stockroom. “Son of a bitch!” Daryl was letting fly a lengthy string of expletives and there was panic in his eyes. Maggie noticed the overwhelming distress on his face as her own stomach flipped.

“She’s—she’s a good fighter,” Maggie stammered.

“And she’s too damn impulsive!” Daryl yelled, straining to keep his weight against the door behind them. “If we get outta this, and she makes it, I’mma kill her,” he growled. Maggie gulped.

In the back room you could hear the walkers still on the other side of the door and you steeled yourself, checking the magazine of your pistol and making sure there was a bullet chambered. You unsnapped the loop on top of your knife’s sheath and heaved in a forced breath. Here we fuckin’ go. You unlocked the door, barely opened it, putting your boot in the way to try and hold it open just enough for you to get your knife into the space. But the pressure of the walkers on the other side was too great for you to manage it for long. You stabbed your knife into the temple of the nearest walker pressing its face toward you in the opening and it was immediately replaced with another.

“Can ya hear anythin’?” Daryl asked desperately.

Maggie shook her head. “No! Just hold on,” she urged. Her back was sweaty from exertion and the stuffy air inside the store and she was starting to slide down the door behind her, constantly having to readjust her position to keep her bodyweight against it beside Daryl.

Just then there was a tremendous crash from the back room followed by gun shots. Daryl and Maggie exchanged a desperate look but the walkers outside the door just behind them had obviously heard the noise too and they attempted to surge forward. Daryl’s boots began to slide on the floor.

“We aren’t gonna be able to hold this much longer!” Maggie yelled, straining to press back into the door and hold the flood of walkers at bay. Over the groaning and mawing she and Daryl could hear more bangs in the back room.

Daryl leaned his head back against the door and shut his eyes for a moment. He felt sick, terrified. What if you were—? He couldn’t hear anything else from the stockroom. “Fuck this,” he growled, glancing at Maggie next to him. As if on cue, Glenn showed up and added his weight to the door behind them.

“I got the entrance jammed shut finally. Where’s Y/N?” he asked, incredulous.

“She went to clear the back way out,” Maggie said.

“What?!” Glenn’s eyes went wide.

“We ain’t waitin’ anymore! C’mon. On the count of three we make a run for the back,” Daryl said. “One. Two…”

Right then you emerged from the back room covered in walker blood, sweaty, your chest heaving, and looking completely exhausted. More concerning was a stream of blood pouring down the side of your face from a gash near your hairline. You absently wiped it out of your eye with your sleeve. “It’s clear! Let’s go!” you yelled at the trio, who were all staring at you in bewilderment.

“…Three!” Daryl said, and they threw themselves forward off the door. It immediately flung open and a flood of walkers began to pour in behind you all. “Go, go, go!” Daryl roared. He tossed anything he could get his hands on in their path behind him as he ran.

They leaped over the bodies of fallen walkers and debris as they rushed through the stockroom, but there it was—the back door standing open, sunlight streaming in, free of any biting jaws or clawing hands. Daryl slammed the door closed behind him as he exited the building but there was no telling how long it would hold.

You were all out of breath but had to keep going.

“Let’s get to the van. Now,” Daryl drawled, not even stopping to glance at any of you.

“My God,” Maggie said, looking over at you as you ran. “Your head—are you alright?” she asked you.

You pressed your sleeve to the gash again and nodded. “Yeah. I think so. You know, head wounds always bleed a lot. Looks worse than it is.”

“What happened?” Glenn asked, running beside his wife, one hand on the strap of his pack and the other entwined with Maggie’s.

“When they started coming in, I had to slow them down. They were coming too fast for me to kill. I pulled those shelves down but it was a bit of a domino effect.”

“Ain’t the place for story time,” Daryl snapped over his shoulder. “Let’s just get the hell outta here.”

You made it back to the van, exhausted, clutching a stitch in your side, your head pounding. You collapsed into the passenger seat as Daryl slid in behind the wheel. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, finally feeling the tightness in your lungs lessen, but you could feel Daryl’s eyes on you and you glanced over. They were narrowed but his expression was unreadable.

“What?” you asked in an undertone.

You thought you saw the muscle in his jaw tense but he simply looked away and started up the van. Soon you were behind the safe, high fences of the prison, climbing out and truly feeling the pain in your head now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Carol and Carl ran to greet you all when you came in. Her eyes clouded with concern as she saw your bloodstained face. “Are you alright?” she asked you urgently, taking your chin gently and turning your head to the side so she could inspect the gash.

“Fine,” you said. “I think. Hurts a bit…”

“I’ll get Hershel so he can take a look at you. I think he’s planting in the garden plot with Rick. I’ll send him up,” Carol said. She paused to give Daryl, who was hanging back, a friendly squeeze on the shoulder and a once over.

You glanced back and he had the same moody expression on his face. It had been a close call for all of you but you couldn’t help but feel like his irritation was directed specifically at you. You tried to shrug it off, but couldn’t suppress the twisting knot in your chest.

Maggie and Glenn broke off to grab some fresh water and Carol went over to talk to Hershel, Carl trailing behind her. That left just you and Daryl heading up to the cell block. The air was tense between you as you crossed the yard but as you stepped into the small common area just outside the cells, it was like it suddenly ignited white-hot.

Daryl threw his bag down angrily on one of the tables and your eyes snapped over to him.

You were a little worried your voice would shake when you spoke. “What’s the matter?” you asked him.

“Are ya shittin’ me?” he challenged you, his chest thrust forward, his eyes now locked on your face.

Your heart started to race and you gulped at the constriction that had suddenly appeared in your throat.

“That was real dumb what ya did back there today!” Daryl roared, pointing an accusatory finger directly at you. His eyes kept flickering up to the gash in your head and his stomach twisted every time. “You’re lucky all you got was that thing on your forehead!”

“What—I—” you stared at him, in shock from his rage. “I got us out of there… I had to.” “Nah. It wasn’t your call to make,” he spat back venomously.

You scoffed. “It was nobody’s call to make, Daryl! We were trapped and we had to get out. We were sitting ducks. Sooner or later they were going to come through the glass up front by Glenn or through that door right behind you and Maggie. I made a choice. And what I did, it didn’t thrust anybody but me right into danger. I can choose to gamble my own life if I want to! Hell, you do it all the time!”

This only seemed to infuriate him more. “Ya ain’t goin’ on runs anymore,” he roared, turning and stalking toward the door that led to the cells. His broad shoulders were squared and rigid.

You let out a noise of disbelief. “That isn’t your decision! And don’t walk away from me! I’ve had enough of this bullshit!”

“Yeah, well that makes two of us,” Daryl spat back over his shoulder.

You let out a frustrated groan. “Ugh! You are so infuriating! What is your problem with me? I haven’t done a damn thing to you and you treat me like I’m a complete waste of space! It’s like I can never do anything right for you, even when I save your ass!”

He spun around and took a few powerful steps back toward you, a scowl on his face, his blue eyes darker than usual. You refused to wilt under it. “This ain’t a shrink’s office, okay? And I sure as shit didn’t sign up for a little feel-good chat. So, why don’t ya leave me alone and go get your damn head stitched up.” He thrust a hand against the back of a nearby chair and it toppled over, echoing harshly in the high ceiling. You watched his broad shoulders shrinking away from you.

“No,” you said loudly, forcefully.

He froze mid-stride and you watched his fist clench and unclench at his side. He slowly turned to face you. “The hell did ya just say?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to back down beneath his intense stair. “I said no. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck your problem is with me.”

His jaw clenched hard and he started back toward you, that familiar stalk and swagger in his gait. “You are my problem. You’re always getting in my damn way!”

You were trying to stay cool, but your confusion and his unwillingness to explain his anger was infuriating. “In your way? What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean what I said.” He pointed a finger in your face, standing hardly a foot from you now. “On runs. On hunts. Scavenging. Hell, even around here!” Daryl wasn’t prepared for the flash of hurt that crossed your face. You were always so tough, admittedly one of the things he loved about you. He hadn’t considered that his words might actually impact you so heavily, but he saw it flash in your eyes as plain as day and it snapped him out of his rage and filled him suddenly with regret.

Your brow furrowed and you just stared back at him, unwavering, puzzled, like you were trying your hardest to understand just what he was talking about, scrutinizing every past interaction you’d ever had with the archer, running over the events of the day, trying to decode his harsh words. Daryl would have preferred it if you had yelled back again, even if you had stormed out. But this? This was tying him up in knots inside in a worse way. You just went on looking at him… with that blood all down the side of your face.

And when you did finally speak your tone was so soft, so controlled in contrast to his that it only made him feel worse. Your words were measured. “Well, uhh… Sorry. I guess I’ll just—try harder to stay out of your way.”

And that was it. You just breezed past him and headed toward your cell, the sun coming through the high windows glinting off the shine in your hair before you disappeared. Daryl rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. You worthless piece of shit. Why the hell did ya do that? He cursed himself internally. You’re such an asshole.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night the air was unseasonably cold but despite the chill you were spending the night on the outside balcony of the guard tower during your shift to keep watch. Every so often you shivered in the cold, but something about the bite of the air matched your mood after Daryl had exploded at you the way he had earlier. It was sharp, unexpected.

You still didn’t really understand what he had meant and you couldn’t stop puzzling over it. In his way? What the hell did he mean? Literally? Or did he mean something more… figurative?

The clank of the door behind you snapped you out of your swirling thoughts and you looked over your shoulder to see Rick emerging.

“Hey,” you greeted him, shrugging a little more deeply into your flannel.

“Hey,” he drawled back, coming to lean his forearms on the railing beside you and stare out across the yard. It was quiet tonight. He was grateful for that. “Cold tonight isn’t it?” he mused aloud, glancing over at you. When you didn’t respond and just continued staring into the night his brow contracted. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” your eyes finally snapped to his. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. I thought you were supposed to be resting tonight,” you said pointedly. “I can handle the next shift. I’m not tired anyway.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, turning back to let his eyes wander across the perimeter. “Not tired? Even after that run today? Maggie said you all had a close call.”

You nodded. “We did. But we all came back so… about as good a day as any. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“Mmm,” Rick hummed again in agreement. There was a long silence and you could feel some growing tension in it, sensed that Rick was searching for how to say just what he was mulling over. He did finally manage it. “This whole ‘not tired’ thing have anything to do with that fight you and Daryl had this afternoon?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands. “You heard that? I really thought everyone was outside…”

“They were. I just happened to be coming in to clean up a bit.”

You sighed heavily and felt your cheeks redden a little. You put one hand up to your face. “That’s… great…” you muttered.

Rick turned so he was facing you, just leaning on the railing with one elbow now. “I wouldn’t worry about what Daryl said or how he said it…” he drawled. You looked at him like he was insane.

“…you did say you heard him, right?”

Rick nodded. “Oh, yeah. I heard ‘im. But there’s a saying and it truly does apply to Daryl Dixon.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.

“The dog that barks the loudest? That’s the one that’s the most afraid.” Rick watched you puzzling over his words for a moment before you turned back to the night.

“Afraid?” you repeated. “Daryl? He’s like—the most fearless of all of us.”

Rick sighed and followed your lead, again looking out into the darkness. “He is. Until he isn’t. Listen, I’m not making excuses for how he yelled at you. All I’m saying is not to think on it too hard.” He straightened up and pulled off his jacket, holding it out for you. “Take this. It’s cold. I’m gonna take this opportunity while Judith is asleep to also sleep. Let’s hope I didn’t just jinx it. Ya sure you’re alright up here?”

You nodded and slipped Rick’s jacket on. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Alright.” He patted your shoulder kindly before again leaving you alone with your thoughts, possibly even more confused than you had been before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were exhausted by the time you climbed down from the guard tower the next morning as the sun was cresting over the trees. All you could think about was collapsing into your bed. The prison was still fairly silent as you came in, most people still sleeping. You yawned as you turned the corner into the room just outside the row of cells. When you looked up you saw Daryl sitting on one of the tables sharpening some bolts for his bow. You actually froze, before forcing yourself to move out of your falter.

You could feel his eyes on you as you crossed the room, purposefully giving him a wide berth, your head tilted down. When you turned into the cell block you let out an exhale you hadn’t meant to hold. You breezed into your cell and collapsed down onto your bed, hugging the pillow as you sank into it, too tired even to pull the sheet across the doorway. You were asleep the next minute.

Carol was up and found Daryl still in the same place you had seen him, but although he had a bolt in one hand and his knife in the other his hands were still. He seemed frozen there, just glaring into space across the room, obviously in some deep thought.

“Mornin’, Pookie,” she said, ruffling his hair just to annoy him.

He let out a growl and leaned away from her hand before glancing over at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line. She knew the look in his eyes. Something was eating him. “What’s wrong?” He let out a non-committal hum and shrugged his shoulders vaguely, his hands suddenly fidgeting endlessly with the bolt between his fingers. “Obviously something,” she prompted him again. Daryl glanced back over his shoulder toward the cell block. “What?” Carol pressed.

He only hummed again and shrugged. “What’re ya doin’?” he asked quietly.

“Just gonna go out and haul some water. Wanna come?” she asked.

He nodded and hopped to his feet, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and sheathing his knife. He followed Carol out into the morning light and trailed behind her as she went to the waterline. As she waited for the bucket to fill she straightened up and wiped the dirt from her hands. “Are you going to talk to me or not? I can tell something is bothering you.”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and thought hard for a moment. He’d hardly slept. He’d laid awake on his bed roll all night, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and tracing them with his eyes over and over in a futile attempt to distract his mind. It didn’t work.

“I just—I screwed up yesterday. Big time. And I—” he shrugged. “I dunno how to fix it. Or if I even can,” he drawled.

Carol watched the turmoil in his eyes. She crossed her arms and studied him. “Is this about the run yesterday? Did something happen out there?”

“Kinda. Not exactly.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that to go on.”

“I just—I said some things yesterday and… they ain’t even really true.” He was staring down at his boots, and in that moment, it struck Carol how boyish he looked.

“We all say things we don’t mean from time to time. You just have to apologize,” she said thoughtfully. “We’re a family here. Family forgives.”

Daryl’s eyes shot up to hers again and he shrugged, chewing on the side of his thumbnail. “Just like that? I dunno. Don’t seem that simple.”

“Daryl, it happens to all of us. We say things out of anger, exhaustion… hunger. Fear.” She stooped to turn off the flow of the water.

“But—when ya’ve said somethin’ and—and, I mean, ya can’t unsay it. Even if ya apologize, whatever ya said is still out there,” he mused. There was a gruff rasp in his throat, the gravel in his deep voice heavier than usual.

Carol sighed and picked up the bucket. “Well, the first question you have to answer for yourself is why you said whatever it was you said in the first place. And just apologize and try to explain.” She watched his expression. He didn’t look any less uneasy. “Just try. See what happens. If it blows up in your face you can come back and let me have it,” she joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes and watched Carol head back up to the prison. He remained standing down by the fence, leaning against it, and wondering how he was going to explain away his outburst at you… wondering if you would, if you could, forgive him.

The truth was that he was terrified of something happening to you, and being helpless as he held the door while you so willingly threw yourself into danger was agonizing. And that fear had come out in a blast directed right at you, with all sorts of unsaid things behind it.

There was a shuffle near the entrance of your cell and you shot awake, sitting partially up on one elbow and barely catching a glimpse of the back of Daryl’s vest as he moved out of view. Had he been standing there looking in at you? Did he need something? You puzzled over it and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were probably just imagining that shuffle. He was most likely just walking by. Just then you saw Rick going past your cell in the opposite direction with Judith in his arms and you jumped up, realizing you were still wearing his jacket. You hastily pulled it off and jogged to catch up with him. “Rick!” He turned. “Hey. Thanks for this,” you said, holding it out to him.

He accepted it with a nod. “You can borrow it anytime you want to take over my shift,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed lightly. “I guess the little one let you get some sleep then, huh?” you asked, fondly stroking Judith’s soft hair.

“She did. I think she’s getting better at this whole sleep thing. Soon she’ll go straight through the night,” Rick said.

“That’s great,” you said.

“Hey, I know you were up all night but… I think there’s a bit of a pile up on the fence. If you’re rested up enough would you mind—”

“No problem,” you said urgently, grateful for a task to distract you. “I’ll get out there right away.” In a few minutes you were down at the fence, a sharp metal rod in your hand. You plunged it into a walker’s skull through the fence and immediately moved to the next one… and the next… Despite the cooler temperatures in anticipation of autumn, you were drenched in sweat. You were grateful for the ability to focus on the heaviness of the metal rod in your hands and the snarls of the walkers separated from you by nothing more than a thin barrier of chain link. It was hard work and you’d been at it a long time.

Maggie was just thinking the same thing and she came to stand beside Daryl, who was also looking out across the yard and seemed to be watching you. “She’s been out there for hours. We should tell her to come in and take a rest. Get somethin’ to eat,” she thought aloud.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed, not looking away from you.

Maggie glanced over at him. “Well, do you wanna go and try to convince her or should I?”

The archer chewed his bottom lip for a moment before straightening up. “I’ll do it.” He headed for the far end of the yard. As he approached, he could see your skin was glistening with sweat in the sun, the hair on the nape of your neck sticking in the heat. He tried to ignore the jump his heart gave and the warmth blooming in his chest as he approached. “Ya keep at it like this you’re gonna drop out here,” he said loudly, trying to make sure you would hear him over the snarls of the walkers.

You spun in surprise, the metal rod hanging along your side, a bit of walker blood and gore dripping off the end. Daryl’s voice was just about the last one you expected to hear. You turned back to the fence and stabbed another walker. “I’m fine,” you said over your shoulder.

“Nah. Ya been out here long enough. C’mon.” You only continued at your grim work, your shoulders tensing as you raised the rod. “Ya deaf or somethin’?” Daryl yelled.

You turned and looked at him again, your expression mostly blank, except for your furrowed brow. “I’m not deaf. I’m—” you sighed and crossed your hands over your chest. “What are you even doing down here?” you asked, genuinely confused.

Daryl’s blue eyes looked away for a moment. “What d’ya mean?” He was gripping the chain link in front of him, his fingers poking through.

“I mean, yesterday. Me down here working on the fence is about as out of your way as I could get, Daryl. And now you’re here.”

You watched as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit it anxiously. “That why you’ve been out here so long?” he asked.

“No, I—Rick asked me to come down and—”

“Mmm. Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his nose inclining a little. “Ya, that makes sense. You’d do anything Rick asked of ya, right?”

You gave him a confused look. His tone was so… odd, almost hostile. “What are you—”

“Yeah, I saw ya earlier. Wearin’ his jacket. Givin’ it back to him…” He felt a swell of jealousy in his chest as he thought of you laughing, your eyes fixed on Rick’s face, light in your eyes.

Your jaw dropped open. “I was—it was cold last night. I was on watch. I was taking over Rick’s shift too and he came up to check on things and left me his jacket… What are—are you—?” You were bewildered. It sounded like Daryl was jealous. What the hell was happening? One day he’s screaming at you to stay out of his way and the next he’s acting like he’s under the spell of a particular green-eyed monster. Daryl scoffed and straightened up off the fence. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. Just you and Rick up in the guard tower. Alone,” he growled, flicking his hand in your direction.

“Are you kidding me? What the hell is going on with you?!” you asked, flabbergasted. “Not that this is even relevant or any of your damn business... and Rick’s a good man but I’m not interested in him like that. I don’t know what—”

Daryl interrupted you again. “Uh huh, ya. He is a good man. Only one here now, right?” Daryl spat back.

You were stunned. “Daryl! Daryl!” He had turned away again and started stalking back up toward the prison, but you were now infuriated and let out a frustrated growl before booking it for the gates that would let you get back into the yard.

By the time you made it, he was a good distance ahead of you, out in the middle of the grassy area and you had to run to catch up to him. “Hey!” you yelled, grabbing onto his shoulder lightly. He threw your hand off and spun around, but you were surprised to see that he didn’t look mad anymore. He looked… defeated. But now you were mad. “Are you gonna fucking explain to me what the hell is going on with you?!? I don’t know what to think! One minute you’re screaming at me to stay out of your goddamn way and the next you’re acting jealous because—what, you think I’m fucking Rick? Which, I’m not, by the way, not that it is any of your damn business.” You scoffed. “And just FYI, I don’t appreciate you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do! Now, what the hell is going on?” you demanded.

He stood there in front of you, his fists clenched at his sides, just looking back at you for a long moment, blue eyes narrowed in either a glare or a squint against the Georgia sun. He couldn’t stop looking at the neat row of stitches on your forehead and the dark bruising around them that had developed over night. His stomach twisted every time. He tore his eyes away and stared down at his boots, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I—you’re right.”

“…what?”

He sighed heavily and looked back up, meeting your eyes again. “M’sorry. Ya just—I thought I was gonna lose ya out there yesterday.”

You just continued to stare at him, confusion muddying your expression.

He chewed his bottom lip for a moment trying to come up with the right words to explain, to apologize. “Ya scared the shit outta me, pullin’ what ya did. And every time ya go out there, I can’t stop thinkin’ about what if somethin’ happens to ya. And it almost—it’s like I can’t breathe.”

You just stared at the archer, your heart continuing to race in your chest, but not from anger anymore.

“And I know it isn’t fair that I yelled at ya like I did. I was bein’ a jackass. I guess it was just how all that fear… came out. And I didn’t mean how it sounded.” Now that he had started talking it was almost like he couldn’t stop.

“Then what did you mean?” You felt like you were imagining this.

“I meant that…” he licked his bottom lip nervously and his blue eyes met yours. “I couldn’t bear it if somethin’ happened to ya.” He studied your expression for a moment, his eyes landing on the soft pout of your lips. “And I was jealous of you and Rick.”

“Daryl, there’s nothing—”

“I know. I know…” he trailed off. “But I was an asshole and then ya were wearing his jacket and smilin’ at him, laughin’, and I just—” He gulped at the restriction in his throat. “I—I wanna be that for ya.”

Your brain still wasn’t entirely registering what he was saying, but the way he was looking down at you was certainly sending jolts of electricity through you. “Be what?”

His eyes flickered between your lips and eyes repeatedly and you felt like you were waiting in anticipation on the edge of something. He shrugged vaguely. “Everythin’. Anythin’ ya need,” he said simply.

“…so, when you said that I’m in your way—?”

“I meant I can’t hardly think of anythin’ but you all the time.” Daryl was quickly losing his courage, nerves starting to take over and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously. You were looking up at him but he couldn’t read your expression. It was seemingly blank, and finally he was so anxious he started to turn away, but your hand landed on his arm gently and he looked back at the contact of your skin on his before his eyes rose and met your gaze.

There was a small smile on your face and Daryl’s heart leapt even as he tried to prepare himself for disappointment. “Where do you think you’re going?” you asked quietly. He again squared his feet to yours, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Your hand was still on his forearm and it felt like it was sending out radiating waves of heat.

Your smile faded and your expression became more serious. “Everything you just said—is how I feel about you.”

Daryl gulped, feeling suddenly breathless in disbelief. Your hand dropped from his arm, leaving a tingling sensation behind.

“Listen, I’m on watch duty again tonight. First shift. I’ll probably be cold. Why don’t you come keep me company and maybe bring me a jacket,” you said, with a small smile.

Daryl’s heart leapt at the thought of spending so much time with you alone. He nudged his nose up in a nod and was about to leave when he felt your hand on his arm again. You arched up onto your toes and placed a kiss on his cheek, giving him a warm smile, he felt he didn’t deserve. He stood rooted in place in the middle of the grassy field, a hesitant excitement blooming in his chest, as he watched you disappear into the safety of the prison.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

***

Chapter 4

Nuada stepped out of the way of the flying dagger.

Humans. So weak.

“Who are you?” She demanded, her body taking a fighting stance.

She couldn’t do anything against him, but at least she was smart enough to know he was a threat to her.

“I’m Prince Nuada Silverlance.” He informed her.

The woman arched an eyebrow and then snorted. “Prince?”

“Yes. We need to talk.”

“Now you want to talk? After you broke into my home and attacked me?”

“If I had managed to find what I was looking for we wouldn’t be talking now.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you were looking for something, and you couldn’t find it.”

“Yes.” He confirmed.

She stared him down for a minute, clearly measuring him up.

“Don’t do it.” He warned her.

She wasn’t stupid or impulsive, he noticed. Nuada knew she had weapons around the room, and he saw that she was angling her body towards one of her hiding spots. He knew she was going to go for the weapon, and he gave her fair warning.

She understood the warning, and she was taking her time to think about it now.

“What do you want?” She asked, but her body remained ready to move.

“I want to talk about your father.”

That triggered something in her and she dove for the gun underneath a console table. Nuada had his arm around her before she could even reach for it properly.

His arm was like a steel band around her middle, pulling her against his chest. Lara put her foot against the wall and pushed back, trying to force him to move.

She was strong -for a human -but Nuada was stronger. He barely moved as she pushed.

He used his hold to drag her further into the room. He grabbed at her braid, wrapping it around his fist.

This woman was ferocious as she tried to fight him off, and Nuada was mildly amused by it.

He threw her face first on the bed and pulled her arms behind her back, before placing his knee on the small of her back to keep her down. “If you’re quite done, can we talk?” He asked patiently.

A man appeared at the door, a shotgun in his hands.

“No.” Nuada said softly, pulling a dagger from his belt and putting it near the woman’s neck.

The man lowered his weapon immediately. “Is this our midnight guest?” He asked, rather calmly.

“Yes.” Lara grunted, her face pressed against the mattress. “He wants to talk.”

“Why don’t you let her go and I serve tea?” He suggested.

Nuada arched a brow. “At least one of you has manners.”

She scoffed. “Says the intruder.”

“You attacked me first.” He pointed out. “I said I wanted to talk.”

She pressed her lips together and Nuada got the impression she wanted to keep arguing, but realized it wouldn’t take her anywhere.

“Fine.” She said at last. “Let me go and we’ll talk.”

Nuada let her go and stepped back. She turned on her back and glared at him.

“Tea?” The other man pressed.

“I’m partial to hibiscus tea.” Nuada informed him.

“Very well.”

***

Lara couldn’t believe this. She’d seen some weird things -especially recently -but this one was beyond ridiculous.

This one claimed to be a prince -an elf prince -and he somehow knew her father.

“I never said I knew your father.” He spoke as he sat there drinking his hibiscus tea.

Lara arched an eyebrow at him. “Then why do you want to talk about him?”

“Your father was in possession of something that did not belong to him. I want it back.”

Lara hummed. “Is that so?”

He just stared at her.

“What is it?” She asked.

“None of your business.”

“If I don’t know what it is, I can’t tell you if I have or where it is.” She indicated.

“I already know it’s not here or at the bank…”

“Wait. The bank? How do you…”

“So all I need from you is to know where else he could have hidden it. I’ll go look for it myself.”

Lara scoffed. “Right. That is exactly what I will do.”

She might be playing nice with him then, but it didn’t mean she’d just roll over. Lara knew when to be diplomatic, when to talk to someone -even if she didn’t particularly like the person. She could play the long game when it suited her.

Whatever this man was -and apparently the elf thing was true -he was strong -far stronger than she was. Lara couldn’t take him on in a fight, that was very clear.

She needed a better strategy to deal with him. Until then, they could talk.

But it didn’t mean he could just demand whatever he wanted.

He put his cup down. “Human, don’t challenge me. My patience is limited, even more so with your kind.”

“My kind.” She drawled. “You have a funny way of asking for help.”

“You don’t seem to understand the situation. I am not asking.” He narrowed his eyes. “You do not have a choice.”

Lara put her feet on the coffee table. “Don’t threaten me inside my house.”

“Or what?”

She smirked. “Or I’m going to have to call Simon.”

That was when Bryce’s baby rose from his sleep.