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#i liked his other design but i feel like its not giving mean steve
pastelliek · 16 days
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Estoy loco
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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months
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📖Make it Stick: Pt. 4
The Dragon, The Princess & The Knight
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve
Word Count: 4331
Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers
Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.
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Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.
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Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!
The Dragon’s Den is located on the bottom two floors of a five-story building. Bucky owns the entire thing. There are offices and meeting rooms on the third floor, a large gathering space on the fourth, and his personal apartment on the fifth. It’s a penthouse: luxurious, all windows but not much of a view, given the location. But that’s okay. It serves its purpose.
Lena gets quiet when they take her up in the elevator, but she’s keyed up and loose from the drugs, Bucky can tell. Her eyes roam all around the familiar apartment when they get up there, from the luxe couches and the fireplace, to the kitchen and bar, to the bed. It isn’t a canopy bed so much as it is a mattress, richly-dressed and surrounded by semi-sheer drapes that hang from the ceiling in every direction, pooling sumptuously on the floor and turning the area around the bed into its own room.
It’s a fuck pad—exactly what Bucky designed it for.
Bucky follows her there, watching her looking at the bedspread with dazed eyes. She’s high, the drugs coursing through her system. That’s good. The aphrodisiacs were part of the plan from the beginning, to help her loosen up for what comes next. Bucky doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt over it. If Lena refuses to admit her feelings on her own, then he’s glad to give her a little help until she can. He comes up to stand behind her as she trails her fingers over the bedspread. His hands settle on her hips. “Haven’t changed a thing, malyshka,” he murmurs, bending to kiss lightly at her neck, just under her ear. “Kept it for you.”
“For your whores,” she mutters.
Far from upsetting him, the accusation actually makes Bucky smile, because it means she cares. “No,” he tells her with a low chuckle. “I haven’t been with another woman other than you, sweet pea. Not in nine whole years.” He’d slipped in the beginning, just in that first year, before he’d given up on morality and decided that she was going to be it for him. Before he’d been sure of her feelings for him in return. “Not, one,” he repeats against her neck, smug.
She whirls around in his arms, eyes wide and lips parted. Her surprise turns to a scowl. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” he says calmly, holding her gaze, and he can see the doubt creep into her expression, the wavering disbelief.
“He’s not,” Steve adds, from where he’s fixing drinks over at the bar—straight on the rocks for them, cranberry spritzer for her. He’s using the Russo-Baltique without having asked, and Bucky concurs: the occasion calls for it. Steve stirs the drinks with a clink of ice. “He loves you Polina. Don’t know why you refuse to accept it.”
Bucky sees her cheeks color prettily, and he cups the side of her face. “You really scared me this time,” he tells her, dropping all pretense and just letting her see him. “Ten months? That’s too long, Lena.” He shakes his head, sees her swallow. He edges closer and pulls on her waist so that she’s pressed up against him, her eyes skipping over his face uncertainly. “Too long,” he whispers, before he dips down and captures her mouth in a kiss that feels like coming home.
It’s not like it’d been downstairs. She’s off her guard now, all emotions and no defenses, and even though her body stiffens for the barest second, after that she goes soft against him, sobbing once against his mouth in a way that says she’s missed him, too. Missed this.
Bucky kisses her harder, hand sliding to pull her in at her lower back and cradle the back of her head. He holds her and lets her hide in their kiss for a few more seconds. It almost aches to pull away and end it, but Bucky knows himself, knows he won’t be able to keep from pushing her back the handful of steps to the bed if he doesn’t pause now. He doesn’t want this night to go wrong. He needs her to consent at the beginning, otherwise he’ll have no leverage over her, and she’ll be right back to her old ways in no time. “Come on,” he coaxes, pulling back and taking her hand in his. She’s so small, he remembers, as her fingers slip into his. “Let’s sit down for a little while, huh? C’mere.”
He walks her over to the couch, sitting her down between him and Steve. Steve’s turned the fireplace on, and he hands her the vodka cranberry, which she takes with a meek little ‘thank you’, head tucked down over her drink. Steve and Bucky’s eyes meet from over her shoulder, communicating silently, as they’ve become so adept at doing. Bucky told Steve that he might send him away tonight, if it looked like Lena couldn’t handle it. But so far, his presence seems to be helping her to stay calm, and that’s good. Bucky wants her relaxed. He wants her between them.
He sips from his own drink and curls his arm over her shoulder, and Steve leans close on her other side. Bucky reaches to touch her bandaged forearm. He trails a single finger over the ridiculous neon cheetah spots, connecting them on the way down to her wrist. “Does it hurt?” he asks, fully anticipating the shake of the head she gives him. He’d used numbing salve, and he knows from experience that ink as minor as hers doesn’t tend to hurt once bandaged. His own back is tight and uncomfortable. He’s still shirtless, and he knows he should’ve slathered himself with some of the ointment too, downstairs, but his attention is all on her. As it should be. If his own ink heals poorly, he’ll just have Natasha touch it up later. Bucky hums when she shyly admits that no, it doesn’t hurt. He sips his drink and watches her keenly. “Good,” he says, I don’t want you to hurt, only to feel good.”
Her little mouth pouts, brow wrinkled as she keeps her eyes lowered. Bucky reaches out to guide her chin up with a single finger underneath her jaw. “Hey,” he says softly. “You do understand why I had to do it, don’t you?” He tilts his head, waiting her out, and she looks embarrassed as she avoids his eyes and licks her lips. Bucky hums and pulls his hand back. She does understand, she just doesn’t want to say so. “You’re mine, Lena,” he tells her gently. “You always have been. Ever since that first time you let me in between your legs.”
Her eyes flick up to him, widened, and then narrowed. Her flush deepens and her lips part like maybe she’ll try and rebuff him. Steve, as well-timed as he is with these things, jumps in at just the right moment. “Hey, you like that?” he asks her, indicating the glass she’s holding. “Did I make it right?”
Lena nods, peeking over at him. “Yeah. It’s … it’s my favorite. … Thanks, Steve.”
He offers a soft smile and turns into her. “I always remember what you like best, honey.” The way he says it makes her fluster, her smile faltering from nerves. Bucky makes a gesture with his hand from where he’s got his arm around her waist, and Steve takes the cue and sidles closer, wrapping his arm over the back of the couch, right behind her shoulders. It puts the three of them even closer together than before, intent unmistakable.
Lena looks up at Steve, who is sipping his drink but keeping his eyes on her, and then she looks to Bucky, brows drawn together in worry. “Bucky …”
“It’s okay,” he soothes her, downing a gulp of his drink before setting it aside, expensive liquor be damned. He holds her closer, turned in, using his arm around her waist to keep her held against him. He reaches up and turns her uncertain face back towards him. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay. Steve just wants to be close with you. Like I do.” He lets their lips brush together and nudges her nose with his, affectionate. “He cares about you, y’know?”
Behind her, Steve’s hand has started sliding up over her thigh, petting her from over the silk of her dress. “Always have,” he murmurs.
She inhales and makes to turn her head, but Bucky holds her still. “Shh sh sh, hey, look at me, Lena.” She does, and he looks her in her drugged-up little eyes. “If you want him to go, just say so. He will.” He’s whispering at this point, and he leans in and kisses her softly on the mouth, taking his time, letting her feel the press of his lips until she moans very quietly. He pulls back, “But if you’re worried about what he’ll think of you and me, you shouldn’t.”
“Wha?”
Bucky smiles, glad that they used the aphrodisiac. If she was sober right now, he’s sure Lena would bolt. “Steve doesn’t care,” he tells her gently, petting the side of her face, stroking her hair. “He knows you’re my half-sister, and he doesn’t care.”
Lena whines and squirms, trying to hide her face in his palm. Behind her, Steve leans in and kneads her shoulder. “I’d like to stay, honey. Be with you and Bucky, if you’ll let me.”
Bucky gives her a tender, coaxing look. “What do you want, Princess? You just tell me. You want Steve to stay? He cares about you, you know. That’s why I told him about us. Told him a long time ago. And you know what he said? Know what he thought?” He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers, “He said he could always tell, and he thought it was fucking hot.”
Lena whimpers, but he hushes the sound away. “No, sweetheart. Mm mn. He doesn’t care. Look at him. Look in his eyes. Go on.” He moves her gently, forcing her to turn her head to where Steve is waiting right there on the other side. Steve’s arm tightens behind her, his face in hers, eyes darkened. “Ask him,” Bucky prods, wanting to make her do it herself. He can only see the back of her head when she’s turned into Steve, but he stays close, tucked up behind her, pulling her hair back in one hand and stroking her skin. He kisses the back of her shoulder. “Ask him what he wants.”
“Steve?” her voice is quiet, shy, and Bucky’s lips curl against her skin when he can tell that Steve’s gently pulled her into a kiss.
They kiss for a long moment, slow, mouths making soft little sounds that make Bucky’s pulse quicken. Then Steve’s murmuring, “Want you to feel good, honey. You’re so beautiful, you know that? Just want to make you feel good and so safe.” He kisses her again, and Lena moans quietly.
Bucky watches them kiss, his dick straining against the seam of his pants as it hardens. This is the exact scenario he’s been fantasizing about for years, now. And now Lena’s right here, between them, softening against Steve’s coaxing advances just like Bucky’s always hoped she would. He presses up more fully against her back, joining them, one hand curling round her waist again. “Steve and I share a lot, sweet pea,” he tells her quietly, kissing across her neck and shoulder while Steve keeps softly making out with her. Bucky lets his hand slip down to her hip and inwards to her belly. He splays his fingers out wide and presses, getting another tiny moan out of her. “We’re close,” he whispers, kissing along her shoulder. “Closer than most friends are. You understand?” He waits a moment, then reaches around for Steve, cupping the side of his face while he’s still kissing Lena. Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, pupils blown, and Bucky feels his dick twitch at how dark his irises have gotten. “Show her,” he murmurs.
Steve sits there for a second more, breathing open mouthed and staring with lust-blown eyes, then he groans quietly and leans over Lena’s shoulder to kiss Bucky.
They make out for a moment, though it feels like longer, the hot and heavy press of their mouths harsher with each other than they’d been with Lena. Bucky drags his teeth against Steve’s lower lip as he pulls away, his hand still on Steve’s cheek. He guides him back to Lena, looking between them—Steve’s lax face and Lena’s shocked, aroused look. Bucky purrs, “Go on.”
When Lena looks to him again, unsure, he shushes her and promises, “It’s okay to want it, puppy. Steve and I want it. S’nothing wrong. Just the three of us. Steve and I want to make you feel good.” He kisses her neck again, while Steve takes hold of her face.
“You still gonna let us do that, sweetheart?” he asks her. “Mm?”
“I … ohn …”
Bucky peeks over her shoulder and sees Steve’s hand cupping her breast through the silk of her dress. Lena’s body presses into it instinctually, and Bucky groans at the sight. Fuck, he wants them all naked and on the bed together, now.
He growls quietly and pulls Lena back to him. Her lips look swollen from the kissing. Bucky maintains a good amount of scruff, verging on a short beard; and Steve, while usually clean shaven, is sporting a bit of stubble now that it’s so late at night. Lena’s chin is rubbed pink from both of them kissing her. The sight makes Bucky smile. He can’t wait to mess her up so badly. Steve ducks down to kiss her throat while he keeps feeling up her breasts, and Bucky goes up to whisper in her ear. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it? Does it feel good, puppy? Having two men’s hands on you at once?”
“Ohn … I, mmm.”
“Yeah? You like how it feels when he touches you there?” Bucky asks. In his arms, Lena nods and gives a breathy little ‘ah ha’. Bucky holds her back to him, both arms wrapping around her waist while Steve lavishes her with attention in front. He palms her breasts, sucks a hickey against her collarbone while he plucks at her nipples from over the silk. His hands wander all over her body, insatiable, over her thighs and waist, touching Bucky’s arms that are wrapped around her as he goes. Steve nuzzles at the side of her jaw and locks eyes with Bucky, lips parted. “She’s gorgeous,” he whispers, and Lena shivers between them. “Thank you.”
Bucky’s eyes gleam back at him, and he lets one of his hands slide down her belly again, down to the vee of her legs. He starts rubbing light circles there, slip-sliding over the fabric of her dress, and Lena’s breath catches. “Yeah,” Bucky murmurs to her, still staring at Steve. “You’re welcome, Stevie.”
Steve groans when he sees what Bucky’s doing. “Oh, honey,” he coos, talking to Lena while Bucky’s hand presses and rubs in delicate patterns over the front of her sex. Steve leans into her, presses their foreheads together. “Does that feel good? It does, doesn’t it?” he purrs, egging her and Bucky on at the same time. His hand lands on top of Bucky’s and rides the motion of his fingers, and Bucky groans quietly. “Look down, honey,” Steve whispers. “Look down at us touching you, please.”
She does, obeying Steve and looking at their hands molded to her mound. She makes a devastated little noise in her throat, hips jumping forward. Bucky chuckles lowly and circles the flats of his fingers right where he knows she needs it. “Is Steve right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “S’this feel so good, puppy? You like it when I rub like this, hm?”
She whines and refuses to answer, but the response of her body is more than enough. She can’t stop grinding forward against their hands. Bucky hums darkly and keeps rubbing, his chin hooked over her shoulder to watch his and Steve’s hands working together. Steve’s other hand is on her breast, thumb swiping back and forth over her tightly pebbled nipple from over the silk.
It makes Bucky ache so bad it almost hurts, to finally get to see his best friend, closest confidant and sometimes-lover touch their girl intimately for the first time. Their girl, Christ. Could he be that lucky? “Yeah,” Bucky breathes against her ear. “Yeah, you like it just like this. I remember. Tight little circles, right here, pushing down, workin’ the seam of your panties right over you clit. That’s what feels nice, huh princess?” He kisses her temple and works his hand a little firmer. “Are you soaking through ‘em yet?”
Lena moans louder than before and tosses her head, twisting in his arms, but Bucky hauls her in even harder against him, his one arm around her waist holding her still like an iron bar. “Stevie,” he says, “Feel her. Tell me.”
Lena cries out prettily when Steve’s hand sneaks between her legs and presses against her panties. He hums and chuckles, meeting Bucky’s eyes. “She’s soaked.”
Bucky purrs smugly against the side of Lena’s face, nuzzling her burning cheek. “See? Can’t hide from us, malyshka. I know. I know what you like, and you’d better believe I’m gonna teach Steve every little bit of it.” She squirms against him weakly, embarrassed, and that only gets him harder, makes him want it more. “Steve,” he says while he pets Lena’s hair to calm her. “Let’s move this to the bed.”
Steve’s eyes light up and he nods. He turns his attentions to Lena and Bucky lets her go so Steve can pull her up with him as he stands, holding her to his body and then scooping her up entirely when she stumbles on her feet. “Aw, come here, honey,” he murmurs into her hair, carrying her over to set her gently down on the bed.
Bucky picks up his tumbler and faces the fireplace as he finishes the expensive liquor inside before it can go too watery from the ice. He’s just drinking the last of it when he hears Steve murmuring gently from back by the bed,
“There you go. Let’s take this off. You’re okay, easy sweetheart.”
Bucky stands and goes over to them. Steve’s got Lena lying back on the mattress and is sitting there beside her, gently edging the straps of her dress over her shoulders. He’s taking his time, leaning down to pet her waist or kiss her sweetly whenever her nerves pick up and she looks like she’ll start making a fuss. “Shh, honey. It’s okay. You’re beautiful. Just want to see you.”
Bucky walks to the other side of the bed and makes quick work of his clothes. He keeps his briefs on purely as a matter of caution. Better to go slow, rather than rush things too fast and scare her. He climbs onto the mattress and meets Steve’s eyes, giving him a look that says he should do the same. Steve nods and pulls back to stand and undress.
Bucky takes the moment to pull Lena with him, back to sit against the headboard. He shushes her when she fusses, guiding her to relax back against him. Her dress, little more than a silk slip to begin with, slides down her body as they move, bearing her breasts. She squeaks and moves to pull it back up, but Bucky grabs her hands and tells her it's okay. “You heard Steve,” he murmurs against her skin. “We both think you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweet pea. No need to fuss about showing us your beautiful body.” He lets her hands go so that he can cup her breasts. Their soft weight in his hands makes him ache with another wave of yearning. God, he’s missed her so much.
“Bucky,” she breathes, turning her face into him. Her eyes are closed in shyness, making Bucky smile.
“It’s okay,” he coos. “We want you. We want you between us. Are you gonna be my sweet girl, hm? Gonna let us love you, sora mica?”
It’s a risky thing to say at this point in the game, calling her little sister right in front of Steve. She squirms back against him, upset but turned on and unable to hide it. Bucky smiles and wraps his arms around her fully, hugging her back against him. “Look at him,” he whispers into her ear, grin audible in his voice. “Isn’t he pretty?”
Lena stares at Steve, open mouthed and dazed. She makes a tiny little sound in the back of her throat—nerves and arousal both. Bucky nods with his face hooked over her shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Why do you think I fuck him?”
Lena tenses, then she turns her head to peek at him. Bucky grins, because he can see how she finds it hot. “You like that?” he laughs, kissing her cheek. “Mm hm. Thought you might.” Deviously, he holds her breast and tweaks her nipple, murmuring, “I remember your Pornhub playlists, puppy. I know you like to watch two men fucking.”
She squirms and whines and tosses her head, but it’s only in embarrassment and not to get away from him, and besides, Bucky loves a bit of a struggle from his girl. He just laughs and hauls her in against his body. “Oh, calm down,” he scolds her. “You’re supposed to be a grown woman. You can admit when something turns you on.”
She huffs and fights him another second, but stills when Steve climbs up onto the bed to join them. He’s in nothing but his boxer briefs, and Bucky hums at the sight of him. Steve’s got a gorgeous body. Bucky’s never considered himself bisexual, but Steve has been his one exception. Bucky’s always wanted him. “Help our girl out,” he tells him. “She’s overdressed.”
Steve smiles and crawls over, taking a moment to cradle Lena’s face and kiss her before pulling back. He gently edges her dress down over her hips and legs, tossing it aside. He pushes her legs apart and lies down between them, face right at her panties. Bucky feels his cock harden even further at the sight of Steve running his hands over her thighs, thumbs running along the edge of her panties. Bucky groans and Steve’s eyes twinkle up at them.
“Relax, hon,” he tells Lena. “Lie back against your brother. Let him hold you.”
Lena’s breath catches at how openly he just says it, and Bucky smirks down at Steve in approval. Steve knows the game they’re playing, the delicate balance of keeping her calm and riling her up. “See?” Bucky says against the shell of her ear. “I told you: he’s into it. You don’t have to be shy.”
“Steve,” she breathes, “I …”
“You want this?” he asks, staring up at her with dark eyes as he pulls her panties down slowly. “Gonna let me taste you, honey?”
She lifts her hips for him without thought, and Steve grins and pulls her panties all the way off, tossing them aside. “Good girl,” he praises, settling down between her legs again. His focus shifts down, and he groans at the sight of her. “Oh, sweetheart …”
Bucky chuckles lowly and watches Steve getting his very first look. “I know, right?” Lena whines between them and Bucky slides his hand up to cover her mouth, muffling her cries. “Shh, Lena. The grownups are talking.”
Below, Steve snickers, his hands pushing Lena’s thighs further apart as he stares. “Fuck, Buck.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier pussy,” Steve breathes, his mouth only inches from her core. He frames her with his hands, using his thumbs to gently explore her folds. “God, Lena.” He talks to her without looking away from where he’s touching. “You’re perfect.”
Under Bucky’s palm, she makes little noises of embarrassment, “Mmn, hmmhh …”
Bucky chuckles and pulls her hard against him. “Stop fighting it, puppy,” he teases, licking a hot swipe up her neck. He feels her resultant shiver. “You’re going to love it. We’re gonna make you feel so good. You just have to give into it.” He kisses her skin. “I’m gonna take my hand away now, and you’re going to admit that this feels good, you hear me?” He puts a little sternness into his voice, because he knows from experience that she responds well to it. He brings his hand from her mouth, down to her neck, giving a little squeeze. “Tell us,” he says. “C’mon. I don’t want to hear you lying to me now, girl.”
“Bucky,” she pants, voice wrecked. The aphrodisiacs are doing their job. “I … I want …”
“What?” Steve asks, looking up at her. He kisses her inner thigh, right next to her sex, and she moans. “What do you want, honey? Want me to touch you?” He lets his thumb trail over her, softly moving over the hood of her clit. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Lena. These pretty pink folds? Fuck, I’ve never seen such a juicy pussy.”
Lena moans, and Bucky knows they’ve got her now, she’s not going to fight them anymore. He drags his teeth over her neck and murmurs, “Tell him how you like it, puppy. Go on.” When she doesn’t say anything, just lies there panting and squirming, whining for his touch, Bucky chuckles and kisses her. “That’s alright, sweet pea. I can tell him.” He locks eyes with Steve and feels his belly clench at what they finally have between them, now. They’ve talked about it for so long, and now it’s finally happening. Bucky tightens his hand on Lena’s neck, giving her just enough pressure to restrict her breathing the tiniest bit. “I know all your kinks, don’t I?” he purrs, and she whines and nods, panting,
“Bucky, fuck, please …”
“There’s my girl,” he praises. He looks down at Steve. “Rub her like you were doing, just barely touching her clit, just lightly now. Our girl’s sensitive, ain’t that right, puppy?”
Lena nods, chin bumping his hand.
Steve follows Bucky’s every direction, gently circling his thumb over her clit, trailing just the tip of his finger through her folds, smearing her wetness all over. “So wet,” he breathes. Carefully, looking up to watch Lena’s face as he does it, he presses his finger into her while still rubbing her clit. Lena moans the prettiest little sound. “Yeah?” Steve asks, looking up at her. “That feel nice, honey?” He fucks her gently on just that one finger, curling it to get at the soft spot inside. He lowers his face and laps at her clit while his thumb keeps working it from above.
“There you go,” Bucky murmurs. “Just like that. That’s how she likes it.” He kisses Lena’s neck and uses his other hand to palm and pluck at her breast. “Work her clit and fuck her on your fingers—give her another, two, yeah. Curl ‘em and just keep working her real gentle just like that. She’ll cum that way.”
Steve listens and does exactly as Bucky says, keeping his hand rocking in her slow and steady, his other hand spread out over her belly, pushing down, thumb flicking softly back and forth on her clit while he laves gently over her lips. Sure enough, Lena’s breath quickens, her body growing taught, then shaking, trembling as she gets close. “Oh … nnn, ughn … ohplease, oh.”
“There you go, little one, just let it out now, let it happen.” Bucky coaxes her through it, holding her tightly as she jerks and cries out in pleasure. Below, Steve groans and nods his face against her as he feels her body ripple around his fingers, and Bucky growls. “Theere you go, oh, good girl.”
“Fuck,” Steve exhales, looking up at Bucky with wet lips. “She’s creamin’ all over my hand, fuck.”
“Show me.” Bucky grinds his hips forward against Lena’s backside for a little bit of relief, and when Steve gets up to him and presents his hand, Bucky groans at the smell of her on his fingers. He opens his mouth for a taste, staring at Steve, and sucks her juices straight off his fingers.
Steve’s eyes blacken and he curses. He pulls his hand back and checks on Lena. “You okay honey?” he asks, holding her face and giving her a kiss. “Feel good?”
“Mm. Mm hm.” She’s still got her eyes closed from the orgasm, and slowly, she opens them. Steve smiles down at her. She sighs and smiles, too. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, hon. You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”
“You should show Steve some attention,” Bucky murmurs in her ear. “Here, lie down. C’mon. Steve, get on your back.” He moves them so that Lena is lying on her side alongside Steve. She’s at the level of his hip, and Bucky lies behind her and guides her hand to the front of Steve’s underwear. “Touch him,” he coaxes, curling her fingers with his own over the line of his erection. “There you go. Come on now, princess, I know you know how to do this part. Make Steve feel good while I fuck you, okay?”
Lena’s gone on the drugs and on her own arousal, inhibitions nowhere to be seen as she turns into Steve to kiss his abs and rub her cheek against his lower belly, nosing at the trail of hair that leads down into his underwear. She curls her hand from over the fabric and squeezes. Tentatively, she edges down the waistband. “Oh,” she whispers, sounding surprised when she gets him uncovered and he kicks his underwear off for her. Bucky watches and hurriedly strips his off as well, crowding back in behind her.
“You like that, honey?” Steve rumbles from above, grabbing at his balls and giving them a tug. “Go on. You can touch me.”
She does, taking Steve’s heavy cock in her hand and closing her fingers around him. He’s just as hard as Bucky is, if not more. Bucky didn’t miss how he’d been grinding on the mattress when he had his face buried between Lena’s legs.
While she slowly gains confidence stroking him, Bucky curls up behind her and plays along her folds from behind, gathering her slick on his fingers and trailing them back to her tight little furl. She inhales sharply in surprise when he starts rubbing her there, applying gentle circles of pressure, gradually, until his finger slips in.
“Ah,”
“Shh.” He kisses her shoulder blade, hushing her. “S’okay, little one. You’ve taken me back here before. It’s just one right now, you feel? S’just my finger.” She relaxes incrementally as he fucks her on his hand, one finger and then two in her ass, just giving her shallow little thrusts that get her used to the feeling and help her loosen up. He rubs his thumb along her taint and lets it dip teasingly into her cunt with the motion of his hand. “Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Go on, malyshka. Be a good girl now and rub on your pussy while you make Steve feel good.”
She whimpers, but after a second he can feel her obeying, squirming to get her free hand down between her legs to touch herself. Bucky hums, pleased, and returns to prepping her asshole. “You know, sweet pea,” he whispers, speaking against the bend of her neck. “You should put him in your mouth.” He kisses her neck and gives a tiny little nip. “He made you feel good with his mouth, didn’t he? You should do the same. Come on. Just the tip, baby girl. Just let him feel your sweet, wet mouth sucking on the head. Give ‘im a taste.” He turns his fingers in her ass, scissoring them apart to stretch her rim.
“Hnngh.”
“Your mouth,” Bucky reminds softly. “Give him your mouth, puppy.”
Lena’s adorable and beautiful when she gets like this, all trembles and nonverbal squeaks and whines, like a dumb little doll once you really get her worked up, and Bucky’s always gone nuts for the way she looks like an absolute fuck doll when she’s got her mouth full of cock.
Steve must think the same, because he groans from above and stares down at her, his hands coming down to rest on her head as she slurps him in. “Shit, baby, yeah. Fuck.”
Bucky hums lowly. “Careful now, Stevie. She can’t take too much. Jus’ let her play.”
Steve grunts and nods, looking pained. But he holds still and lets Lena explore at her own pace. Bucky smirks and goes back to work behind her. He reaches behind himself to the edge of the mattress, finding the lube. He brings it back and coats his fingers good before returning them to her ass. He takes his time, enjoying the wet sounds of Lena’s mouth sucking Steve, while he wets his fingers up and massages her tight little hole, coaxing her open and stuffing lube inside, coming back again and again for more. He plays with her until she’s good and loose, her body finally giving way to the intrusion of two fingers and losing that instinctive reaction as the muscle gives in. “Theere it is,” he murmurs, giving her a third finger for a few moments just to be sure. Lena whines with her mouth full of cock and Bucky scrapes his teeth over her neck. “You still touchin’ yourself, puppy?”
“Mmm, mmph hmm.”
“Good girl. I’m gonna push inside now.”
She whines around Steve’s cock, and while Bucky lines himself up, Steve hushes her, whispering, “Shhh, Lena. You can take it. I know you can. He told me, you know that? Told me how tight you are back there, how good you take him.” Lena squeals and moans at his words, but Steve keeps his hands clamped on the back of her neck and her shoulder, not letting up. “Go on, Buck,” he pants. “Take her.”
It’s such a fucking tight squeeze, but Bucky takes his time and waits her out, pushing, and when his cockhead finally slips inside, it gets easier from there. He waits, knowing his girl’s body well. She needs to settle, adjust to the intrusion before it can start feeling good for her. So he holds still and pets her hip while she chokes and cries out at the intrusion. Steve’s cock slips from her mouth and she gasps, “Ahhn! ohnn…” Poor thing, she’s so overwhelmed.
Bucky slips his hand around where she’s forgotten about touching herself. He knocks her hand out of the way and takes over, rubbing tight circles down over her clit and whispering filth into her hear. “Fuck, baby, you lettin’ daddy in? Yeah you are, so good, sweetie pie. Doing so good for me. You’re my good little girl.” In front of him, Lena sobs, and he can tell from the sound of it that it’s in humiliated pleasure. He groans and slides his way in, pushing until he’s buried to the hilt, hips against her ass. “Fuuck,” he hisses, holding still to calm himself down. He doesn’t want this to be over yet. He’s not done with her. He rubs her clit and purrs in her ear, “How’s that feel, huh? S’it a lot? Shh sh sh I know, I know. But you’re so good to let daddy have this, little girl. Feels so fucking good inside your tight little ass, you’ve got no idea.”
She shivers and cries, hips jumping, panting open mouthed against Steve’s stomach when Bucky pinches her clit and rubs it just so. “Ohgn! Bucky…”
“Steve,” he grunts. “Get down here.”
Steve’s there in a second, sliding down in the bed and pressing up against Lena’s front, sandwiching her between their bodies. “Hey darlin’,” he whispers, holding her face and keeping her attention. “You’re so pretty,” he tells her, kissing her to keep her distracted.
“Touch her,” Bucky breathes. “Get her ready.”
Steve does, rubbing her clit and teasing along her folds before slipping inside of her with two fingers. She groans long and low at the added stretch. “Shh,” Steve hushes gently, curling his fingers. “You’re okay.”
“Fuck, I can feel your fucking fingers,” Bucky gasps. “Unnh.”
In front, Steve gets Lena to open up for him, dipping into her mouth with his tongue and kissing her to keep her calm. “Hey, honey. I want to fuck you, too. You think you can try for me? Let me slip inside with your brother?” He says it on purpose, Bucky suspects, just to let her know again that he’s not judging her, that he likes how wrong it is, just like they do. She squeals and jerks in their arms when he says it, but they easily still her struggles. “Shhh, Lena. It’s okay. I want you,” Steve promises, holding her still. “I want both of you.” He rocks his hips forward, letting his dick slide against her folds, the head bumping Bucky’s balls.
“Nooo,” Lena moans, “I can’t, please, I can’t.”
“You can take it, puppy,” Bucky coos, knowing that they’ll have to force it, if they want to find out if she can take them both. She’s too nervous. “Steve,” he says tightly. “Just do it. Go slow.”
Lena cries out and tries to fight them, but she’s so small and weak, easy to maneuver and hold still. Steve goes to his back and pulls her on top of him, and with Bucky pressing her down from behind, she doesn’t stand a chance. Steve wraps his arm around her back like a steel band and uses his other hand to guide himself into her pussy. “Holy shhh—” he hisses, going silent as he slips inside.
“Oh my fucking god,” Bucky breathes, eyes slamming shut at the pressure, at the feeling of Steve’s cock through her walls. “Oh, Steve, oh fuck.”
Between them, Lena sobs, overwhelmed, and Bucky readjusts himself, trying to take some of his weight off her. “Hold still Steve,” he orders. “Don’t move. Give her a minute.” He gets to his knees behind her and helps Steve hold her down against his chest. Steve’s one hand has gone up and clamped behind her neck, and he’s whispering little platitudes against her forehead. “Shh sh sh, it’s okay, just relax honey, relax.”
Bucky groans. It’s so much. He can feel Steve’s dick right there, like there’s nothing separating them. It’s enough to get his balls tightening. “Fuck Stevie,” he huffs, both hands planted on Lena’s back to keep her down. “Fuck, we’re … we’re actually …”
“Yeah,” he gasps, sounding just as amazed as Bucky feels. “I can feel you.”
“Fuck, me too. Me too.” They’ve talked about it so many times, and now they’re actually doing it, both inside her at the same time. It’s so hot, it makes Bucky feel dizzy. He has to hold still, too, or else he’s going to bust his nut right then and there. “Shit,” he whispers, body trembling as he tries to control his breathing, “Shhiiit.”
Between them, Lena’s cries have calmed down to groans, and she wiggles her hips in a way that has the both of them gripping her harder. “Ohnn,” she whines. “Ss-steve, oh, it’s…”
“I know honey, I know. You okay?” Steve checks, petting her side and guiding her face up to get a look at her. Bucky catches the little smile he gives her, and he feels the shiver that rolls through Lena’s body in response. She’s calming down, thank God. “Yeah?” Steve asks, sounding encouraged. “Y’feel full, honey? Takin’ both our cocks at the same time?” Lena whines, aroused, and Steve’s eyes go molten hot.
Bucky watches as the two of them make out. He strokes Lena’s back and slips a hand down under her belly. Steve’s pubic hair tickles his fingers as he finds her clit and strokes it. “Oh,” Bucky sighs, smiling in relief at when he finds. “You’re soaked, babygirl.” Carefully, still stimulating her with his hand, he lets his hips pull back the barest bit, then eases back in. It hardly even counts as a real thrust, but it makes Lena sob against Steve’s mouth and grind forward against Bucky’s fingers. “There you go, sweetheart.” He gives her another, and another. “There you go.”
“Holy shit,” Steve whispers.
“Mm hm. She’s taking us just right. Fuckin’ knew it. She’s made for us,” Bucky praises, grunting as her body takes the short, slow thrusts he gives her. “She’s fuckin milking my dick, Steve.”
“Me too.”
Bucky eases up his grip on her, kneeling back and stroking his hands down her back. He pumps his hips shallowly and murmurs, “Grind a little, sweet pea. Grind your clit down on Steve.”
Lena whines, sounding mortified, but after a second she does, rubbing herself off against Steve’s pubic bone. Steve groans at the way it works his cock inside her, the way her walls flutter around him as she starts to feel good. His hands grip her at the waist, fingers digging into her soft curves. “Oh, baby, baby,” he pants, one hand sliding up her back and into her hair, holding her close. “Yeah, does that feel nice? Feel nice bein’ all full and grinding on my cock?”
Lena sobs and nods, working her hips a little harder as she squeezes them both. “Oh god, oh fuck,” she moans. Her hands are grabbing at Steve’s shoulders and she turns her head to the side on his chest. “Nnn, Bucky,” she cries, watery eyes opening and searching him out.
Bucky’s belly flips and he bends over her, kissing at her slack mouth. “Hey Beautiful. M’right here, little one, right here.”
“Daddy,” she sobs.
Bucky’s gits twist with arousal and something deeper, something darker. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s okay. S’it feel good?” She moans miserably and nods, hips still moving between them, working their cocks inside the way she needs, her insides fluttering as she gets close. “Aw, are you gonna cum?” Bucky coos, a tinge of mocking in his voice, just the way he knows helps her get there. “You like getting your holes stuffed, baby? Daddy fucking your ass and Stevie in your cunt? Need to be fucked that much, greedy girl?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she cries, and Bucky’s not sure if she’s saying it about running away, or if she’s just so overwhelmed and humiliated at her own perverse desires. Probably the latter. She can get that way, sometimes, sobbing and apologizing while she comes on Bucky’s cock, calling him daddy while she falls apart.
Bucky kisses her mouth, sloppy, and rocks his hips against her ass as she starts to come. It’s unmistakable, not only in the clench of her body, but in the filthy sounds her cunt makes as she squirts and all three of them get soaked by it. Steve and Bucky both groan loudly as it happens, their bodies squelching and clapping wetly as their skin hits hers.
“Fuck,” Steve curses, hips fucking up into her without control.
Bucky laughs breathlessly, then groans at the friction of their cocks working inside at the same time. “Oh yeah,” he pants, right in Lena’s face and against Steve’s chest. “Didn’t I tell you she’s a squirter? Ughnn …” He fucks into her one last time as his balls draw up and the tight coil of arousal that’s been building and building in his core bursts. He groans and rocks against her ass as he rides it out. “Fuuuck…” He turns his head, beard scraping over Steve’s pec and up to his shoulder. He’s still thrumming in the aftershocks, his balls fucking ache, and he closes his mouth over Steve’s neck, tasting the salt in his sweat. “C’mon, Steve,” he pants, “cum inside her, fill her pussy up all sloppy. She loves that.”
Lena cries out in protest, but Bucky just gives her a hard thrust with his softening dick. “Shut up, puppy. I know what you like.” He’s slipping out of her a second later, not completely soft but too sensitive to stay inside when Steve’s still buried in her cunt. He kneels back and watches Steve’s cock driving in and out of her body. He groans at the sight. “Shit, Steve. You close?”
“Nnngh.”
Bucky laughs, breathless. He reaches down and cups Steve’s balls, curling his fingers sharply up behind them, grinding in against his taint. Steve shouts and his hips jerk up as he starts to come—it’s unmistakable. Bucky growls possessively and slips his hand back to Lena’s ass, slipping her his thumb and making her squeal. “Take it, Princess,” he growls. “You just had a hell of a lot more shoved up this filthy hole. Now take it.”
She cries out, and Bucky can tell from the way she’s moving her hips that she’s trying for another orgasm. Between his legs, his dick gives a tired little pulse, like it wishes it could shove right back up in there. Bucky fucks her and tugs on her rim with his thumb until Steve is spent, then he’s bending over Lena and gathering her in his arms, pulling her back up to kneeling with him, Steve’s cock slipped from her body and lying in a puddle of his cum and her squirt all over his belly.
Bucky growls, grips her throat hard in one hand to hold her against him, and shoves his other hand between her legs. “Look at that filthy fuckin’ mess you made, moya shlyuka,” he rasps right in her ear. “You like it that fucking much, huh?” He’s being mean now, and his fingers are too, as he hooks them in her cunt and tugs, over and over, rocking, getting her right where she needs, the heel of his palm bumping her clit with every motion. “Come on,” he pants, arm straining, working against her hard. “Give Stevie a show now. Show him what a messy fucking cunt you have.”
Lena wails and tenses, right on the edge. “Nnn!!”
“Squirt,” Bucky growls, rocking her whole body with the force of his hand, squeezing her throat. “Fuckin’ give it to me.” He feels her tip over the edge, her insides clamping down against his fingers a split second before she starts squirting. He immediately pulls his hand out and rubs furiously over her folds, making her spray everywhere. “Fu-huck,” he laughs, panting. “Yees. Look at that. There you go baby. There you go.”
Below them, Steve looks like he’d like to come again right then and there, his lips parted and eyes glued to the release she’s gotten all over his groin and belly. “Holy shit,” he breathes, chest heaving from his orgasm. “Oh, fuck.”
Lena squeals when it becomes too much, and Bucky eases off, keeping his hand at her neck and wrapping his arm around her waist in a fierce hug. “Such a good girl,” he praises, all the meanness gone from his voice, replaced with tenderness. “Good, good girl.”
She sobs and slumps against him, and he holds her to his body, sitting back on his heels. “Shhh, you’re okay. Did that feel so good, sweetheart? Aw, I know, I know. It’s a lot. You came so hard, huh?” He eases her down with him, spooning up behind her and petting over her heaving, shuddering sides. “It’s over. We’re all done. So good babygirl.”
Steve turns into her from the front, wrapping her up in his arms as well. One of his hands splays out over Bucky’s back, right over his fresh ink, and Bucky opens his eyes and meets Steve’s gaze from over Lena’s head. They share a shaky smile at what they’ve just shared.
“Told you,” Bucky says, licking his lips. He squeezes Lena’s waist and presses them all closer together. “She’s ours. Yours and mine. Made for us.”
“Yeah.” Steve dips down to cup Lena’s face and kiss her. He whispers praise against her lips, telling her how good she is, how pretty, how sexy. Bucky smiles and stretches, groaning at the twinge of pain when his raw skin pulls. He relaxes and buries his face in Lena’s hair while Steve kisses her overwhelmed tears away, telling her he loves her. Bucky hums, hoping that it’s true. If it’s not, it will be soon. He can just tell. Steve and he share such a close bond, and Lena’s always been irresistible, drawing Steve’s gaze even back before Bucky ever told him about their dirty secret.
Yes, he thinks happily. The three of them are going to have something very deep between them. Even now, having shared their forbidden relationship with Steve, they’ve connected on a deeper level. Bucky feels more sated than he has in a long time, his heart at ease now that he’s got his little one back where she belongs, and Steve right there with him, sharing in it. It’s perfect.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers, hugging Lena close, his spent dick snugged up against her ass and his back vaguely stinging. Steve’s low voice murmurs only inches away, sweet and tender reassurances for their girl.
Their girl.
Bucky closes his eyes and kisses the back of her sweaty neck, murmuring Sora Mica at her, over and over, putting it out in the open. They don’t have to hide it anymore. Now they can openly revel in what they share, and they can share it with Steve. Bucky smiles, exhausted, sated, elated. They’ve been at odds for so long, the Princess and the Dragon, fucking and fighting. Now they’ve finally found their missing piece, the balm for all their hurts, their white knight.
This is the beginning of them.
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katsu28 · 1 year
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🍭 this one sounds so much like steve so steve harrington with listening to music together while they both take the day to clean around the house (maybe even getting a little distracted to dance instead)
yessss omg so cute and so very steve!! thank you for requesting anna my darling ily ily <33
steve harrington x reader, 1.3k, steve does a lil dancey dance :)
With both yours and Steve’s busy schedules during the week, it was safe to say the house got a little out of sorts most of the time. Laundry piled up, the fridge had to be picked through for food past its prime, dust bunnies needed to be swept out of corners, and so much more. That’s why Saturdays—while also used as lazy days—were designated for cleaning. 
You and Steve would roll out of bed whenever one of you deemed it the right time to untangle yourselves from each other (and if Steve had his way, it would be never) and slowly make your way out to the kitchen. Steve always liked to take charge of making breakfast for the two of you, sitting you down at the counter and telling you to just sit there and look pretty.
Occasionally he’d wander away from the pan on the stove for a kiss or two. Or three or four or—yeah.  
Steve had switched on the little radio in the living room today, cranking his favorite pop station full blast so you could both hear it as you tidied up around the place on your own. And to your pleasure, he’d also brought out his slightly too small gym shorts from high school due to the pile up of laundry, only yelping in surprise a little bit when you gave him an occasional pat on the butt as you passed each other in the hallway. 
You’d just gotten done with vacuuming the entire house, casting the heavy thing aside in favor of flopping on the couch, eager for even an ounce of a break before getting started on clearing off the kitchen table. Your eyes drifted shut, a sigh heaving out heavy through your nose as you settled a bit deeper into the cushions. 
Steve ambled in right at that moment, having just finished putting all the laundry in the dryer and feeling in need of a kiss from you, spotting you all relaxed and comfy.
“Hey, hey, we don’t take breaks in this house, you slacker,” He chided jokingly, bracketing your head on the top of the sofa with his elbows. When you opened your eyes, he was nose to nose with you, looking at you upside down with the fondest of grins. “Hi. You’re pretty.” 
“I’m all gross and sweaty.” You whined, covering your face. Steve always made sure to tell you that you were pretty or compliment you in some other way, and even though you’d probably heard every variation of a cheesy compliment from him at some point in this relationship, they never failed to make you bashful. He made an indignant noise, batting your hands away from your face lightly. 
“Pretty.” He repeated firmly, sealing his statement with a quick peck to your lips. 
“You’re pretty.” You shot back, reveling in the way his cheeks instantly flushed pink. If you took a peek under the collar of his shirt, you’d most likely see the same rosy flush creeping up his neck. He shook his head, nose scrunching adorably. For someone who dished out compliments and praises like it was nobody’s business, he sure did fluster easily when you aimed one at him. 
You flipped around in your seat, kneeling on the couch as you took his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks gently. “I mean it, Stevie, you’re so pretty. Even upside down, even in those glasses—god, especially in those glasses. You’re the prettiest boy in Hawkins and I’ll shout it from the roof of town freaking hall if I have to.” 
“Okay, okay, stop it with the flattery, sweetheart, I got it,” He mumbled. His skin was hot under your fingertips, and you knew you’d successfully gotten your point across. 
“Say it.” 
“Say it?”
You nodded solemnly, giving his head a little shake. “I wanna hear you say it.” 
“I’m not gonna say it.” You pouted at him and he groaned. “Fine! I’m the prettiest boy in Hawkins.” He muttered.
“Can’t hear you, Stevie.” 
“I’m the prettiest boy in Hawkins!” 
“Damn right you are.” You smiled at him, pressing your lips against his briefly but firmly, feeling him melt into your kiss like ice cream on a hot summer day. You’d honestly spend every waking minute showering your boyfriend with compliments if it got him to relax this much. 
The first few notes of a familiar song poured from the radio that had been long since forgotten but suddenly remembered, Stevie Nicks’ I Just Called To Say I Love You filling the air and causing Steve to pull away from you. 
He wriggled out of your grip, leaving you to observe as he slid on socked feet to the middle of the room, nearly slipping on the clean floor and wiping out in the process but recovering quickly. He aimed a big grin at you. “Oh, baby—do you hear that? What’s that sound, you ask? I think…yeah, that’s definitely our song!” 
This song in particular was infinitely special to both of you for many reasons. But most importantly, it was the song that had been playing on the radio when Steve finally built up the courage to tell you he loved you for the first time in the front seat of his beemer, which at the time was a total coincidence, but such a fitting one that you both decided it would be your song for the rest of your lives together. 
“No New Year’s Day to celebrate, no chocolate covered candy hearts to give away,” Steve belted, using his fist as a pretend microphone. He pulled out all the stops singing the next few lines, waving his hand over his head like he was at a concert, swaying from side to side, even going so far as doing a little spin that ended in finger guns. You stifled your laughs behind your hand as you watched him put on a show for you, which only made him play it up even more, always happy to be the reason for that smile he loved so much. “Come on, sweetheart, join me!” 
“No, no, this is the Stevie show, I’m merely a spectator,” You giggled, shaking your head at his attempts to bring you to your feet. “Show me those Harrington moves, baby!” 
“I just called to say, I love you,” He crooned, holding an imaginary phone up to his ear. His other hand extended out to you, inviting you to come sway with him and you finally gave in, letting him pull you against his chest in one fell swoop. He pressed his forehead against yours, all traces of humor replaced with nothing but love as his honey eyes gazing deep into your own eyes for the next line. “And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.” 
You brought your hands up to cup his jaw, stroking your thumbs across his cheeks tenderly as your lips curved into a soft smile, one that Steve prided himself on being the sole cause and receiver of. It was hard to believe that you’d managed to be so lucky to find the one person you loved more than anything in the world—the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and grow old with—and it just so happened that it was your best friend. 
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” You murmured, punctuating each utterance with a kiss to one cheek, then the other, then finally his lips. Steve smiled against your mouth, fingers curling a little tighter around your waist at the amount of pure love he could feel radiating off you, as he was sure you could feel the same coming from him. 
“Kiss me like that again and I just might have to put on another show for you sometime.” He breathed, blinking owlishly at you. 
“Oh believe me, I will.” You nodded, planting your hands on his shoulders. “But first, we gotta clean out the fridge.” 
“And here I thought we were having a moment,” He sighed, shoulders slumping rather dramatically. “Guess expired deli meats are more important than poor old Stevie.” 
You rolled your eyes playfully, looping your arm through his. “C’mon, drama queen. Poor old Stevie’s gotta sniff some questionable leftovers.” 
“Consider the moment now ruined.”
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My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | four
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Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader
Summary: Plans change once again over breakfast. As they approach a solution that everyone can agree with, the girls learn a little something about their hosts.
Warnings: mentions of loss of parents/parental death
Wordcount: 4.2k
If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.
A/N: The dividers are made by @/firefly-graphics
Taglist: open, in the reblogs, let me know if you want to be added
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Pressure shifted and stretched the wooden floorboards, creeks elicited like soft groans as each one bore the weight of her sleep-addled and heavy steps. It was morning, whether early or late she couldn’t tell. Going by the feel and atmosphere it felt like early morning, the air fresh and still crisp from the night yet everything else for the latter. The sun peeking over the tops of the trees caused every little flake of snow to shine and shimmer like a sea of thousands upon thousands of diamonds.
As she rounded the corner under the staircase, spilling into the main living room, two familiar faces awaited her. Her sisters were sitting on the couches to the right in front of the - freshly lit - fireplace. Tendrils of fire lapped and curled around the logs of wood, a fine billow of smoke danced above it as the embers glowed brightly in the deepest parts of the fire. The crackling of the fire was overshadowed by the loud munching of her youngest sister. The young girl chewed loudly on whatever she had gotten her hands on while Natasha sat beside her with a steaming cup in her hand.
Notes of bitterness, the distinct smell of ground coffee, mixed into the overall headiness of the acrid smoky tones of the fire and the tangy smell of the tree sap from the burning logs. Natasha was never to be seen without a cup of coffee in the mornings. Sometimes she wondered how her sister had survived in their childhood before she had ever tasted her first drop of the bitter brew. 
They were both silently sitting there, sipping and munching on as she slowly approached them. It was eerily. Their eyes were locked on the staircase, barely noticing her at all and certainly not acknowledging it even as she stood directly in front of them. Following their eye line there was nothing to see. Nothing out of the ordinary at least. 
It was a magnificent and humbling view, this imposing and grand living room with the looming staircase. Perhaps its effect - now in the broadened light - had caused this, even if she found that it had been just as great a sight in the dark evening of yesterday. 
In the end, she concluded it couldn’t be an interest in either architecture or interior design her sisters had developed over the course of the night. Only when she turned to face them again, picked her ears up a different clue. Clattering sounds and some quieter mutters traveled into the great hall, coming from no other place than the kitchen that lay on the other side of the staircase.
“Is something going on?” She asked them. Yelena hummed, shoving another handful of flaky, cracker-y, orange squares into her mouth. The packet she held clutched to her chest said Cheez its, whatever that was.
“They are arguing,” Natasha told her dryly, taking another sip from her mug. 
“About us?” Patting over, mindful for her feet to not get caught on the carpet, she plopped down onto the soft cushion beside them.
“Yes,” Natasha answered just as honestly once more, causing her older sister to sigh.
“Blondie–”
“–His name is Steve,” she scolded Yelena. The younger one grinned at her, eyes sparkling. “They are letting us stay here, you could at least have enough courtesy to call him by his name instead of giving him ridiculous and mean names.” 
It was the same spiel every time. Yelena rolled her eyes and pouted at her sister. The only difference now was that the glare Y/N shot her was enough to silence the whine that usually accompanied it. You are not our etiquette teacher, why do you have to be just as stiff about protocols and rules? 
She wasn’t. Not truly anyway. But between the youngest sister and the oldest, there was a difference in duty and expectation Yelena couldn’t understand. She was the overlooked sibling when it came to the line of succession. While all the weight was dumped onto the heir's shoulders, Yelena could frolic around. She had the opportunity to make mistakes and not take everything so seriously while Y/N had to overthink every step, look and word she uttered. Everything could be used against her.
“Steve apparently doesn’t think it’s a good idea to drop us off in the town. Since we’ve got no money to pay for a hotel room or literally anything else. Grumpy and Grumpier aren’t happy.” This time when she shot her sister another look it was in unison with Natasha raising her eyebrow.
“What?” Yelena shrugged, “They started murmuring and bickering when we were still in the kitchen. 
Peculiar that was, at least for her. She did share Steve’s sentiment. It brought her back to all the unanswered questions she’d pushed away from her thoughts the previous evening. Now she’d run out of time. There wasn’t any chance to postpone it any longer, she had to confront them. 
They had nothing on them. No wallet, no phone, not even a piece of identification. Perhaps the last one was better that way. Their lack of finances however posed a serious problem. They couldn’t afford a hotel room, yes, but what they also couldn’t afford was any fuel for the car. 
The car. Would it still be at the side of the road? How were they even supposed to find the car? Even if they managed to obtain some fuel for it, how would they get it to the car and who said it would even work? Could cars freeze to death too?
“Breakfast is ready.” Sam leaned against the bottom post of the staircase, arms crossed in front of his chest, yet his voice was warm and inviting.
In the kitchen, an icy, tense atmosphere reigned. Bucky was grumbling, his dark stare focused on his steaming cup of coffee. It felt strange to enter, well aware of why this bad mood was swirling all around them. Her eyes sought out Steve, who was leaning with his back against the kitchen counter, arms bent and forearms bracing against the edge. Just to the side behind him, a pot peeked out of the sink. The pot they had made hot chocolate with during the night. 
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Expertly Steve split the sweet, creamy brown liquid into two big mugs without even spilling a drop. A thin trickle tried to escape still, running down the side of the pot which he was quick to collect with his fingers. Both from the hot pot as well as from the warm liquid he hissed, quickly sticking his finger into his mouth. Both to lick the droplet away and to cool his now-burned finger. 
“Are you alright?”, she asked him in concern, brows knitted together as her eyes wouldn’t shift from the finger he still suckled on. Steve smiled at her from around it and nodded.
“Already better, see?” With that he released his finger, showing her the reddened tip. It caused her to smile, chuckle even, as she nodded.
“Want me to blow on it?” The words had left her lips before she had been able to properly think of their meaning. They’d hardly left her lips, yet it was already too late when it dawned on her. With terror in her eyes, she stared at him. 
Steve looked at her in surprise, lips parted. Time felt frozen, she didn’t dare to move or breathe at all. Only when Steve snorted, his lips pulling into a big grin, could she take a gulp of air again. His eyes glinted in mischief as he leaned forward, finger hovering before her lips now. And she? She huffed amusedly, eyes jumping between his and his finger before she softly blew out a small stream of air.
“Is that something you do with your sisters?” He asked her curiously.
“I used to. Yelena was a sensitive child and blowing on it was a magical solution for all her problems. It helped calm her down.” Thinking back on past times, she became nostalgic. “My mother used to do it with me…before she died.”
Steve’s happy expression was quickly replaced with one of compassion and perhaps a twinge of personal sorrow. “You don’t have…?” He trailed off as she nodded.
“They both died when Yelena was still a baby. I don’t think she even remembers them.
Sometimes even I have trouble remembering; what their voices sounded like, how they looked.”
Steve hummed as he braced his hip against the counter. “Bucky and Sam are my family. They are all that I have left.” 
Suddenly their behavior made a lot more sense to her. Not that she had been able to be upset or angered over their ways. How could she blame them for being protective of the blonde when she felt the exact same way about her sisters?
A rich aroma of nutty, cinnamony deliciousness unfurled in the kitchen. The sweet scent dispelled the heavy silence between them in a flash and pulled both their eyes toward the steaming mugs. Steve grabbed both around the rim. In his big hands, the mugs - who were bigger than the average mug she had seen - looked dwarfed. Easily he passed along one of them to her. 
The cup wasn’t hot, it was cozily warm as she wrapped both hands around its rotund body. Cradling the cup close to her, nose hovering over it, she inhaled deeply. The scent exploded in richness and tickled her nose. It enveloped her like a thick blanket of warmth, comfort, and sweetness, reminding her of the doting hug of a mother, the caressing embrace of a lover.
A smile broke out on her lips, one that ticked upwards as she crossed Steve’s fond expression. He eyed her curiously. A tingle of impatience radiated from him, an air of excitement as he awaited her judgment. His jaw jutted out minimally, nodding towards the mug and inviting her to a taste.
Careful not to burn her tongue she blew on the surface. The liquid rippled in small waves that reminded her of the calm tide she’d seen on the Great Lake as they had driven by. Just as its fragrance exploded the flavor across her tongue. Creamy was the liquid, plush in chocolaty heaven from the mix of milk and dark. As the taste melted on her tongue the hints of vanilla and cinnamon came through.
Loudly she hummed and closed her eyes once more. Her head leaned backward, nose pointing towards the ceiling. The warmth traveled into her belly and from there on spread throughout her.
“It’s delicious,” she gushed, a satisfied little smirk on her lips as she glanced over at Steve. The intensity with which he looked at her made her feel even hotter. His stare was strong but not menacing…just so deep. Boring into her soul. “Steve,” she murmured, snapping him out as his eyes jumped to cross with hers once more, “that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Pride blossomed in his chest, it scorched through him to the tips of his fingers and toes and curled up his spine in a pleasant spark. She watched him preen under her words, like a cat reveling in pets.
“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked, much deeper than it had been just moments before. Happiness danced in his eyes. He tried to hide his grin behind the mug as he took a taste of his own. The slow rumble, akin to a soft groan, sounded absolutely sinful.
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As they entered his eyes had sought her out just as she had him. His bright blue eyes met hers and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as she glanced back at him from the pot.
While Steve’s smile was soft, his body told a different story. Outwardly he seemed relaxed in the way he leaned there, but his shoulders were square and tense. There was tightness in his muscles, strength coiled beneath them, ready to snap if needed.
“Hope you are hungry,” Sam said as he sought his way between them and walked over to the pans on the stove that sizzled on low heat. “I made pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast.” It was an overwhelming amount of food, and some she didn’t know exactly what it was. 
He started to fill multiple plates until each of them had one standing before them. Each plate for her sisters and her had a little bit of everything. The plates of the boys were stacked high and almost overflowing, at minimum double her portion. Bucky’s plate stood alone and untouched on the kitchen island, which now doubled as the dining table, even if there was an even bigger, perfectly fine one just beside it.
Steve glanced over at the brunette before he nodded toward his plate. “Sit and eat.” His stern voice surprised her. He sounded commandeering and dominant. It was the voice of authority and reminded her of the orders the Generals in the royal guard and military would speak. 
Bucky glared at the blonde, a recurring look. She wondered if it was perhaps his standard expression. He always looked so grumpy and glared at everyone. Only briefly had he softened his features during his apology the evening before. Steve had told her Bucky had a nice and friendly side too, you'd just have to crack down the walls he put up. She felt certain she would never see that happening.
The air continued to feel thick and tense, even as the sound of scraping cutlery set in. It weighed heavily on her mind, wouldn't let her go. Barely having touched her breakfast she set down knife and fork and looked over at the three men.
“I think we have overstayed your welcome. Thank you so much for opening your home to us.” Steve looked at her in alarm, Bucky and Sam clearly surprised too. Even her sisters did so, albeit their reactions varied in intensity. Yelena gaped, her cutlery clanked against the marble countertop while Natasha eyed her from the side, eyes minutely widened.
“What do you mean?” Yelena demanded to know loudly, swinging around in her chair. “Go where?”
“Back home,” she told her in the tongue of their country. Pinching her lips together and balling her hands into fists the strain was ever present all across her. She knew it was barely a plan they had. No fuel, no car. But she didn’t want to cause a rift between Steve and his friends and neither did she want to stay in a place where they weren’t truly welcome.
“We only got here,” Yelena whined, a frown etched on her face so deeply it pulled on the corners of her mouth. She was good at that. Years of being exposed to her sad, disappointment-face however had made her resilient against it. And so she answered in a voice lacking any emotion, clipped and strong.
“And it was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“The car is useless,” Natasha, who had been eyeing Bucky's frown attentively until that moment, turned towards the two of them, “We are stranded, what do you plan to do?
Walk back on foot? We’ll freeze to death before we’ll even reach the lake. Crossing the mountain pass on foot is lunatic. You are asking to slip and break your neck. Or to get eaten by a mountain lion. Either way, it’s death that will await us.”
“Go back?” Bucky spoke up, quietly and reserved, startling all of them. She looked at the brunette in horror. His words were the catalyst for the descent into chaos.
“Whoa, hold up! What?” Sam guffawed, mouth half-full with his last bite of egg and hash brown, as he looked between all of them. Steve…Steve looked like he was about to lose his marbles. He looked spooked, ghostly white around his nose as he stared at her in open shock. His mouth opened but no words came out. 
“You speak widovian?” Yelena sounded scandalized, her words were shrill and loud and her pitch was higher than usual as she gawked at the brunette.
“The basics, yes,” he answered her soberly. It did nothing to calm the situation or her sister down.
“How?” Natasha asked, her blue eyes rendering in on him. She was ever as calm and collected as she appeared to be. In her eyes curiosity glistened, a spark of something more solemnly seen in the redhead.
“That’s not what’s important!” Steve’s voice had an edge to it. He had composed himself enough to enter the conversation yet desperation and urgency still brewed inside him. 
At once the chaos had been brought to a halt. Everyone focused on him. Once more there was this authority in his voice, this leading nature that permeated from him. He looked between all of them until his eyes zeroed in on her.
“Don’t leave.” His voice shook the slightest bit. 
“Steve,” she whispered with a heavy sigh.
“No!” The strength with which his voice boomed startled her. Instantly he softened, mumbling a smaller “No. Please let me speak.”
“You don’t have to leave.” She waited patiently for him to continue, to explain his reasons. There came no more, Steve was tongue-tied. Too many thoughts in his head, too many things he wanted to say at the same time, all conveying the same thing, and yet he couldn’t speak a single one of them out loud.
“We are causing nothing but disruption between you. I don’t want to be the cause of your fights.”
“You are not,” Bucky interrupted. He clenched his jaw as he looked at her and then at Steve. “I am.”
“You are looking out for your friend the same way I am doing for my sisters–”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t be in the wrong,” he told her sternly, “or come on too strong, be too overbearing.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. In the end, she didn’t have to remark anything as Bucky continued all the same.
“If I know I’m wrong, I’ll admit to it.” He spoke openly and in recognition after a bout of silence. It was his insistence however that surprised her the most. “I was wrong. I judged you once again. Instead of considering reality, I thought my imagination to be the truth. I’ve pictured you still as the enemy, as I was blinded by rumors and false claims. Yet you keep proving that there are no ill intentions. I was too blind to see and accept.” His self-awareness and candor were honorable. “My intention was never to make you feel unwelcome here, nor to drive you back to the place you sought to leave out of lack of other options.
You should stay a couple of days longer. At least hear out Steve’s proposition before you make your final decision.”
He made it hard for her to deny this request. Bucky’s sincerity could be felt, he deeply regretted making her feel this way and nearly driving them out. In the end, it wasn’t him who settled the matter, it was Steve once again. When she looked over at the blonde, sitting across the kitchen island from her, her heart painfully constricted. The desperation was ever-present in his eyes. She could tell he sat on edge, not daring to breathe until she confirmed. He looked at her entirely hopeful, how could she refuse? 
“I suppose so,” she mumbled and emphasized her words with a nod. Steve let out a loud sigh, his shoulders visibly sinking. Not only him, she realized in surprise. All three men visibly relaxed. Both Sam and Steve sank back in their seats, bracing their weight against the chair's backrest. Bucky's hands unclenched. She hadn’t even noticed he’d balled them in the first place. 
Even her sisters seemed to be relieved. Natasha’s lips quirked upward as she hid half a smirk behind a systematic sip from her coffee, while Yelena had looked at her nearly as hopeful as Steve. Now her eyes shone in bright happiness, together with the satisfied smile on her lips. Seeing both of them so happy made her previously tight pulled lips soften into a smile as well.
“I assume the cause for your dispute has to do with the proposition?” Steve looked over at Natasha. Bucky and he looked surprisingly shameful at the mention. A little like two young boys squirming after they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have done. The notion quickly dissolved as Steve nodded and straightened up. Clearing his throat, his eyes wandered over to her, and only as he had her focused in his radiant eyes, he spoke.
“Don’t leave. You are more than welcome to keep being our guest.” She nodded at that, so far the plan had looked to be about that. It wasn’t something new, so that couldn’t be the end of the proposition, could it?
“Our plan was to take you to town and find you a hotel. We’d have paid for it,” he could see her mouth opening in protest. One pointed look and she ceased that try. It made him smile in pleasance.
“That would be out of the question now tho.” 
“Sam is right. It’s winter and close to Christmas. At the busiest time of the year, all hotel rooms are bound to be booked. I fear there won’t be any place left, we could have found you anyway.” He didn’t look one bit apologetic, she noted, intently listening. “So stay. Here at the cabin. With us.”
“How long?” Once more Natasha spoke up. 
“We’ll be staying until the end of the week, then we’ll have to get back in time for Christmas. Come with us. We can take you further into the country. We can even take you all the way ‘til the capital.” This time when Steve looked at her hopefully she didn’t feel the same volition to agree. Instead, her heart dropped to her stomach.
“You are from the capital?” His nod made her stomach constrict tighter, like a vice slowly squeezing the life out of her. 
“We,” he glanced at Bucky and Sam, “we all work there. As guards in the castle.” Fear must be written all over her face as she paled, dread filling her. She’d been blinded by his gentle nature, so much she had run her sisters and herself right into a trap. Recoiling from her seat at the kitchen island, she felt herself tremble. He must have guessed her thoughts as Steve rounded the counter in an instant.
“Hey, no. It’ll be alright. We won’t hurt you. No one will do anything to you, I promise. You are safe here. No one will do anything to you for being from Widovia.” 
“The King the least of all,” Bucky snorted, glancing at Steve. She couldn’t help but think she was missing something, a detail that they were aware of and she was not. Similarly, there was one detail that she knew and they didn’t. If they only knew her sisters and her weren’t just anyone from Widovia. If they knew they wouldn’t be as friendly or as helpful. Perhaps they’d taken them straight to the capital to present them to their king. The king that was her enemy. The one person in the world she’d never be safe from.
“Any person seeking help, no matter where they come from, is welcome in Brooklyn. You can get help if you want to.” Steve’s thumbs softly stroked over her shoulders, the weight of his hands felt soothing even if she continued doubting his words. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you would be helped. The king has set up measures so that anyone needing it can receive help. We’d be able to arrange a place for you to stay. Jobs too so you would be able to be independent.”
“We could also drop you off somewhere along the way.” Steve didn’t look happy at Sam’s additional option. She saw his brows knit. He frowned briefly, the unhappy expression melting away when he looked back at her. His eyes turned soft and warm once more, searching for hesitancy in her own. He no doubt would try to rid her of any objection or reluctance until there was none left.
She didn’t really know what to say. Once more they were offered such immense niceness and help by these three strangers. Three strangers from a country that was supposed to be evil, where each one of its inhabitants was said to be foul and rotten on the inside. Three strangers that should be her enemy. Steve was eager to help, she could feel the sincerity of his words and actions. It made her feel all the worse to lie to them.
“That is an incredibly kind and big offer…” Trailing off she glanced at the others. Even if it felt like everything around them vanished the moment she looked into his eyes in truth his friends and her sisters remained. Natasha and Yelena sat beside her, left and right, as Steve had squished himself between Natasha’s chair and hers. “We’ll have to think about it. Together.”
Steve’s smile diminished only until he caught himself. Pressing his lips together he nodded and soon there was his soft smile again. “You have time to decide until we leave.”
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Ik your probly tired of hearing about the mcu and its fans but I just remembered that some on Twitter argued that it was ok that peggy carter or cyintha glass to exist in the mcu because that's one less nazi.
Like how do you miss understand a very important part of history and not understand why it's problematic to have a character who was a nazi be good this is the whole reason I don't like mcu zemo and peggy carter because I feels like it's ignoring a part of history.
Uugh. Twitter.
To say MCU Peggy is one fewer Nazi is uhhhh. Incorrect.
Because: they didn't JUST take the character design of Cynthia and leave all her Nazi behaviour in the comics.
MCU Peggy's Nazi behaviour is NOT just a one-off retconned thing from the WS movie, and exhibited nowhere else. She is linked to the hiring of multiple foundational Hydra members in SHIELD.
(Arnim Zola, shown three times if we're including other universes so it's definitely an intrinsic part of her character; she, alone, job interviewed Werner Reinhardt; she, personally, alone, hired Johann Fennhoff when he was pretending to be good, because she is The World's Most Rubbish Spy... (Fun fact, that means if you killed Peggy off in 1945 then Bucky would never have been turned into the Winter Soldier, since she hired both Hydra members responsible for his torture/mind-control!) ...Mitchell Carson, and since the Winter Soldier program seems to be linked with the early Red Room, then her buddy Dorothy Underwood the Black Widow also counts! And as the saying goes: if you have 10 people at the table and one Nazi, then you have 10 Nazis.)
...And now they've bought the comics and changed comics-Peggy to match comics-Cynthia/MCU-Peggy, their solution to all this is to claim Peggy simply didn't know Hydra were in SHIELD.
W o w.
IIRC, new-comics Peggy calls Bucky "insane" for questioning her integrity (right before she viciously attacks him of course, like an innocent person?? uhh… authoritarian much?) and she describes the mere suggestion of her knowing about Hydra as being "unthinkable".
(Well now, to be fair, everything is unthinkable when you're an idiot.)
So that's the MCU's retconned fix for this: not even claiming she didn't do it, just saying she was incompetent and oblivious for decades before. Which is also: nonsense.
Because Zola was in her bunker. Her photo and office were 1 short elevator ride away from his. He was on the front page of the news. Even if she were illiterate, he was still in the photo!
Who did she think Howard was talking about all those years, whenever he mentioned Arnim?? Where did she think he was getting all this tesseract-based innovation from, the fairies??
Most damning of all, in CATWS as soon as Steve comes sniffing round, telling her he's having second thoughts about SHIELD, her response is to laugh at him, tell him he's being melodramatic, and then that he should not focus on the past (eg. which "we" rather mucked up, she admits… that's the Royal we!) And days later Zola is free to try and kill Steve for the second time. Even when she's supposed to be demented, she's still conveniently covering her own ass!
The problem goes right back to the comics...
It was a colossal tin-eared giant oozing dick of a move to pair off Captain America, the Hitler-punching Jewish Golem, with a Nazi character in the first place.
That, and giving a Nazi character a chance to 'redeem' themselves, is directly antithetical to what Steve was created to represent, and so disrespectful of a choice for a Jewish creation (let alone one created with the specific purpose of encouraging anti-Fascism) that it's bordering on antisemitism imo. No one in their right mind would believe this specific set of Jewish creators could be cool with that.
Also, the belief (you can kind of tell they had in the Cynthia comic) that a Nazi killing another Nazi somehow makes that killed Nazi less of a Nazi?? Like, Red Skull killed her so she must be okay?? Uhh, no??
(The Agent Carter s1 book also tries to push the idea that Cynthia died to save Steve, which is - again - nonsense. If you look at the panels, all she did is throw Steve his shield in Red Skull's presence, and Red Skull shot her because he was annoyed. She didn't leap in between them or anything!)
And, to draw on that Nazi character at all, when there are multiple Cap love interests they could've used - many of them brunette too, if they were stuck with brunette casting - including at least one Jewish woman?? MCU were drawing on the Ultimates run, where iirc his love interest was a Betsy Ross (brunette!) who could easily have been swapped out for the Betty Ross from the Hulk movies who they already had on-tap, as it were.
Picking Cynthia was just an unnecessary, unethical move. That character should've been avoided at all costs, not seen as inspiration fodder (doubly so, to avoid associations with Julia Koenig, another brunette Nazi villainess - AKA Kreigerfrau - who was also was present in Project Rebirth in the comics and stole superserum for herself, like multiple villains and MCU Peggy!)
And if they were that desperate to have Steve's love interest 'know' him before the serum, then they should've A) had her actually deign to speak to him in the movie, B) just picked a damn character who actually knew him before the serum! Like his fiancée Gail Richards!
But they wanted to water down Steve's motive for fighting Nazis (because he hates them and what they represent, which makes Disney uncomfy), and water down the homoerotic undertones of his devotion to Bucky (which makes Disney uncomfy; only gay villains, pls!) So they replaced it with 'wanting to be big so he can get a girl', so that MCU Peggy could seem important to him.
Then assuming (as that creepy dead-eyed fuck Kevin Feige heinously continues to do) that being short and disabled somehow therefore precluded Steve from having a lover is so... ugh, ableist and incel-y and again completely ignores the actual character of Steve, for whom women are not and never have been the main drive.
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lavaeolus · 11 months
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I beat New Vegas and its DLCs with 0 kills on Hardcore
Right, I feel like I owe you some details on this. Meet Michaela, courier and Wasteland doctor. Swearing something not entirely dissimilar to the Hippocratic Oath, she's a devout member of the Followers of the Apocalypse. And less devoutly the Brotherhood of Steel -- but she's a little concerned hijacking a robot army might've gotten her kicked out of the latter. Hasn't had the nerve to ask about it yet.
Strap yourselves in; this is going to be a long one. First, the core three rules to this playthrough:
No direct killing. Don't do anything that would increase People Killed, Creatures Killed or Total Things Killed.
No companion killing. Would make this a lot simpler if we brought one along! But I think that would be less a "no-kill" challenge and more a "companion commander" one.
No luring enemies to their death. It's hypothetically possible to just beat a guy to 1 HP and lead them to a radscorpion. But that's not very nice. Try to bypass them through means other than reducing their HP to 0 if possible.
Full disclosure that I did allow myself to use Robotics Expert and shut off machinery. I didn't really view this as destroying them, as they retain their HP and can theoretically be turned back on one day. In fact, deactivate Mobius's giant roboscorpion with the perk and he will, after a few moments, do just that.
Tackling the base game
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If you follow some of my other social media, you might know this isn't my first try at a 'no-kill run'! The main difference is that in the last one I didn't really do any DLC. I did Honest Hearts and called it a day. This run was also done on Very Hard / Hardcore, which doesn't change things too dramatically but does mean we can't be quite as cavalier about rushing in and running past people. We side with Yes Man in this go-through, unlike our first run which was NCR. They share a lot of ground, though, so again: not too big of a difference.
One fun fact about New Vegas is that being able to get through without killing anyone was one of Obsidian's initial design tenets. But... that comes with a bit of a proviso. You can get through to pretty much any ending without ever having to pull out a gun (or ballistic fist, as the case may be), although there will be clunky moments from the engine being designed with the idea you'd be clearing places of enemies. Hell, you can wipe out most of the factions without ever pulling out a gun, if you help Lanius come to power and side with the Legion.
Can you get through "as a pacifist"? Well. I mean, you don't have to kill House, exactly. You can just pull him out of his tub, expose him to bacteria, and then shove him back in -- disconnected from his systems until he inevitably dies in about a year. There are a few other questionable moments, like the fact that bringing law to Primm inexplicably causes all the people in the Bison Steve to suddenly drop dead. Heart attacks, I assume.
Still, side with the right faction and your hands can come out relatively clean, and I do a few extra things to keep in spirit to the run. I don't give the Legion the Boomer howitzer parts. Our favour from the King is spent ending the violence against NCR citizens, thereby avoiding conflict with Pacer. For the Omertas, I avoid having Cachino open fire on the bosses. Instead I blow up their weapons, blackmail Clanden, and then re-enter the casino. Whereupon they ask me to hand over my weapons and I tell them to shove it, rendering the Omertas irrevocably hostile to me. (This lets me progress the NCR path a bit further, although it's not strictly necessary on an Independent run.)
While there are a handful of quests you can't do, you can complete the majority of the game and most of its quests. The only companion you can't recruit without loosening the rules a bit is Boone. With Cass, you can avoid having to help Ranger Jackson if you take the Barter or higher Speech routes. I avoid having Old Lady Gibson put down her dog for Rex, but if you're not being as extreme fixing him's just a few caps or a Barter check away.
That doesn't necessarily mean you'll get the best ending for everyone, of course. There are some factions, like the Powder Gangers and Fiends, who probably should be dealt with -- but sticking to the pacifist ethos leaves these groups in play. This is only heightened by staying Independent rather than joining the NCR, who would ultimately deal with the Powder Gangers and limit the Fiends' influence once their hold is strong enough.
Tackling the DLC
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Does that ethos carry through to the DLC? Sort of. There are troublesome spots throughout, and obviously dealing with Father Elijah through stealth still involves locking him in a room without food, water or light. But I think the only direct violation of that earlier design tenet comes in Lonesome Road. Honest Hearts is actually where we get our main weapon of choice, the Compliance Regulator: a special laser pistol that does less damage but temporarily paralyses an enemy on crits. (A few similar fatigue weapons exist in the base game, but are usually trickier to take advantage of.)
But let's go through some issues:
Companions! Honest Hearts, Dead Money and Lonesome Road all have you escort companions around. If you go into Caution, companions can open fire on people. Sometimes we can just walk on and be sure they won't do much. By all means, ED-E, solo the three deathclaws while I scoot over to the next area. I'd recommend you bring a few Stealth Boys to the Divide just to help keep ED-E out of trouble. Other times we have to get creative. To complete "Prisoners of War" without anyone dying, I have to zap both a White Leg and Graham with the Compliance Regulator, paralysing them each for 10 seconds. I then have to paralyse Graham again to get to Salt-Upon-Wounds without Graham going Rambo on his minions. In all cases, you can abuse the Wait function once you're far away enough from enemies your companion might still be fighting.
Holograms. Dean doesn't want to do his part in the heist without some protection. Two options: threaten to break his legs, which is tempting, or you can activate some holograms to keep guard. Unfortunately the Ghost People have some special coding that says whenever one is permanently killed, for any reason, they should be added to your kill-count. The solution is simple but difficult to pull off. Activate the holograms, then leg it out of the area before they have the chance to murder any poor Ghost People. A gamey solution for a gamey problem.
Saving ED-E. Can't use the terminal until the robots are dead! So either nuke somewhere or trick a few robots into blowing themselves up. But this is technically optional.
Showdown with Ulysses. When I mentioned there being one violation, this is what I was referring to. The DLC ends with a big final showdown between you and the Marked Men, which doesn't progress until the Marked Men are dead. Strictly speaking, Ulysses is perfectly capable of soloing them all while you hide in a corner -- which we do. But that a high-Speech character is able to be carried by Ulysses doesn't really change that you're meant to be fighting off waves of enemies.
In the end, though, we're able to come out moreorless abiding our initial rules, some dodgy moments aside. Old World Blues is the best about it, having no real catches throughout. The enemies have pretty good Perception, so can be a little tricky to sneak past, but there's no mandatory killing. Honest Hearts is interesting in that it's clearly aware a pacifist approach is possible and actually addresses the possibility in some dialogue -- although, of course, Graham does add some complications if you're strict about it.
Dead Money and Lonesome Road? Tough stuff. If a non-combat character interests you, there's an extent I'd say go for it, but maybe just give yourself a mulligan for these two DLCs and the Graham-segment of Honest Hearts. From a roleplaying angle and outside the confines of the Pip-boy stats, it's not strictly your fault if some guy you're forced to travel with attacks someone, right? So long as you don't deliberately take advantage of it.
Video proof
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I didn't record this full playthrough, but I did record the final mission and the ending of each DLC. Just so I'd have a record of having done it. The full playlist is here, but if you'd like to watch any individual one:
Base game
Honest Hearts
Dead Money
Old World Blues
Lonesome Road
I realise this isn't, like, irrefutable evidence. But if you're curious about how the ending slides play out or if there's anything special, there they are.
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funnylittlelad · 1 year
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Shelter From The Storm - Steddie
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Page Three
<< Page Two | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Four >>
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summary: “My dad’s sick. My mom told Hopper so he could tell me. Apparently, it doesn't look good,” he explains hollowly. 
Jack is too busy building with her legos, lost in her own world, to pay them any attention. Eddie immediately goes up to Steve and grabs his forearms in a distant, comforting, hold. He’s unsure of Steve’s wants and needs.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” 
Steve gives him a wry smile.
“Cure my dad so I don't have to call my mom for the first time in six years?” He asks playfully.
“I can't do that, but I can be there when you do call her,” Eddie suggests.
Steve thinks about it for a second. He drinks in the care he finds in Eddie’s dark eyes. Sometimes he catches himself pretending Jack gets her eyes from Eddie instead of Sarah. It’s probably weird and unhealthy, but Jack is more Eddie’s than she is Sarah’s anyway. Steve accepts the offer of support. He truly has no idea what awaits him on the other side of that phone call.
wc: 9.3k
series tags/notes: Steddie Dadfic, single dad!Steve Harrington, Music Teacher!Eddie Munson, girl dad Steve, Jewish Eddie, Steve's parents are The Worst, mentions/talks about past abuse, complicated family dynamics, pretty Steve-centric, implied past suicide, talks about illness and death, Fluff, angst, mutual pining, slow burn.
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Steve brings Jack to Eddie’s on his way to the interview. Robin had offered but rescinded it the moment she heard Eddie did as well. What? I’m in the opposite direction and he’s on the way! Besides, who would she really rather go with? was her argument. It’s his first time seeing Eddie’s apartment. It strikes insecurity into his heart. Eddie’s apartment is so much different than theirs. It’s nicer and bigger and Steve finds himself feeling incredibly small as he hovers near the front door.
He seems to have two bedrooms based on the number of doors, a kitchen that can hold more than three pots, an actual designated dining area, and more than one window in the living space. Jack immediately becomes enamored with all the decorations on the warm-toned walls. Posters from tours he’s gone to over the years framed so they're more adult for his living room along with other little prints and oddities are fixed on every wall. Short bookshelves are packed with novels, notebooks, and binders. A few dozen D&D miniatures- or the little guys, as Jack calls them- sit on top of various surfaces. The bookshelves, some of the picture frames, the television, and even the door jamb Steve is currently near are all home to some.
A black acoustic guitar that wears its age on its face hangs on the wall above his couch. White lettering is scrawled across, most likely by a younger Eddie. The writing curves with the body of the guitar. THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS. It’s all so painfully Eddie that it makes Steve's chest throb. 
Eddie discovers he loves having Jack at his apartment. She’s amazed by everything, but especially his six-string on the wall. He spends most of the time answering her questions about everything. He didn't know what's that? and why? could be said so much they lose meaning. 
It feels like the entire world holds its breath for the duration of Steve’s interview. When he's offered the job on the spot he nearly cries. He’s never stepping foot in that fucking quarry again. He’ll be able to stabilize Jack’s life again finally. The relief is so evident that Eddie knows the moment he answers the door Steve got the job. Steve wishes beyond wishes he could live in the following moment forever. 
Eddie all but tackles him into the door with cheers. Jack comes sprinting from the dining area. Why can't she ever just walk? She wedges herself between them at their legs. Before Steve can, Eddie scoops her up so she can be sandwiched in the middle. She giggles wildly despite not knowing what they're celebrating, just happy to be with them. 
Steve gets through his first week. The improvement is felt immediately. He’s more rested, he’s around more, and Jack is clearly ecstatic to have him home by five-thirty every night. Weekends he has off, which he still can't believe. All in all, he has a damn good week. Eddie is on the cusp. He’s so close to asking Steve out. Robin all but begs him to.
“I just wanna make sure he gets settled into the job before I throw anything new at him,” he explains.
“None of this is new!” She argues.
He has a hard time countering that. Either way, they come to an agreement. Eddie will ask Steve out at the end of his first pay cycle. That'll give him time to get used to the job and spend his extra time with Jack. As it creeps closer, Eddie grows antsier. Everyone notices. Max snatches pens from him so he can't turn them into drumsticks. Dustin calls him out when his leg bouncing shakes the van. Gareth clamps a hand over Eddie’s rambling mouth a few times when he wouldn't shut up. Little things that makeup everything. 
The visits start with Jack forgetting her zip-up hoodie. Eddie noticed the little green thing when he was locking up for the night. Without a thought, he brings it over to Steve’s, knowing he’ll be home thanks to the new job. His knock is timid as anxiety settles in. Steve opens the door while calling out for Jack to turn down whatever she had playing over his shoulder. The smile Eddie is met with when Steve registers it's him is enough to power a city. 
“Eddie, what are you doing here?” He asks, sounding pleasantly surprised.
“Jack left this at the store earlier. Figured I’d drop it off on my way home,” Eddie holds out the offending hoodie.
Steve’s eyes shimmer in the dull yellow light of the outside sconce. An appreciative smile sweeps across his lips as he takes the hoodie.
“Thank you, you didn't have to go out of your way-”
Eddie is already waving him off.
“Not out of the way at all,” he assures Steve.
“Is that Eddie?” Jack’s excited voice carries from across the small space.
“Uh-oh, trouble hears me,” Eddie grins mischievously.
Steve chuckles as Jack sprints to see Eddie. Steve shoos her back into the apartment, inviting Eddie in. The hours get away from them as Jack and Eddie put on a show for Steve about dragons. Eddie thinks, perhaps fears, it's just a one-time thing. The next time Jack is at the store she doesn't leave anything behind. So, Eddie does what any sane person would do. He pretends she left her music workbook and brings it over to Steve’s. Jack sells him out so quickly he doesn't know why he bothers feeling betrayed.
“That’s supposed to stay at the store in my folder,” she informs him and crosses her arms.
“Ah- n-no, remember? You were supposed to bring it home this week,” he tries weakly.
“Daddy says lying isn't nice, Eddie,” she chides with stern brows.
“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve mirrors her posture but with an amused smirk, “lying isn't nice.”
With a flushed face, Eddie puts his hands up in surrender.
“Alright, you caught me,” he admits with a chuckle.
“You can just drop by, y’know. We’re friends, it's okay,” Steve chuckles as they settle onto the couch.
Eddie smiles, the tips of his ears pink.
“Yeah, you don't mind? It's okay if it's weird. You guys are on the way home from the store. I’m not like trying to go out of my way to be creepy or anything. I totally get it if-”
“Eddie.”
“-this is too much or crossing a line. I mean, phone calls every night are one thing. I don't want to disturb Jack’s routine or-”
“Eddie,” Steve laughs, growing louder.
Eddie halts his babbling and blinks at Steve with a huh?
“You’re rambling. That's my move,” Steve teases.
Eddie’s still-open mouth snaps shut. He gives a shy smile, twisting his rings in his lap. Steve isn't used to seeing him so nervous like this. It’s unbearably cute. If Jack weren't watching Scooby Doo three feet away, if Steve’s life were a little simpler, he might have kissed Eddie then. Jack is three feet away, though. Steve’s life is complicated and messy. Instead of a kiss, he places a heavy warm hand on Eddie’s forearm and gives it a squeeze.
“Our door’s never closed to a Munson. You can thank Jack for that,” Steve echoes Eddie’s words from so long ago back when he was saving Steve's day the first time.
Eddie is sure his smile is so soft it's pathetic, but he doesn't care. His anxious energy turns to excitement as the end of Steve’s pay period draws closer. He’s going to ask Steve out and he’s pretty sure he’ll say yes. Eddie isn't blind, he isn't stupid, he’s just fucking nervous. He knows he has a shot with Steve. Steve just has so much on his plate right now as his and Jack’s lives adjust once more. The last thing Eddie wants is to add to that plate. He can wait until the end of the pay period, he continues to reason with himself. At least then Steve will have settled into the new job. Hopefully, he’ll have found his groove with Jack. A groove that Eddie can slide right into.
Then Steve gets a phone call the day before the pay period ends. Eddie stops by on his way home from the store. It’s nice being home to let him. Not that his visits replace their nightly phone calls, of course. Steve goes into the bedroom to take the call when he hears how grave Hopper’s voice is. When he steps back out he’s pale, his hands shake slightly, and his face is blank.
“My dad’s sick. My mom told Hopper so he could tell me. Apparently, it doesn't look good,” he explains hollowly. 
Jack is too busy building with her legos, lost in her own world, to pay them any attention. Eddie immediately goes up to Steve and grabs his forearms in a distant, comforting, hold. He’s unsure of Steve’s wants and needs.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” 
Steve gives him a wry smile.
“Cure my dad so I don't have to call my mom for the first time in six years?” He asks playfully.
“I can't do that, but I can be there when you do call her,” Eddie suggests.
Steve thinks about it for a second. He drinks in the care he finds in Eddie’s dark eyes. Sometimes he catches himself pretending Jack gets her eyes from Eddie instead of Sarah. It’s probably weird and unhealthy, but Jack is more Eddie’s than she is Sarah’s anyway. Steve accepts the offer of support. He truly has no idea what awaits him on the other side of that phone call.
They get Max to come over so she can watch Jack. Steve doesn't know how long this call will last and doesn't want to leave her alone in the living room for that long. Max hugs him when she arrives, reestablishing that she's there for him if he needs it. 
Steve and Eddie sit side by side on the edge of Steve’s bed. The heat from Eddie’s thigh against his keeps Steve grounded as he stares at the phone.
“You don't owe them anything,” Eddie tells him quietly.
“I know,” Steve sighs before dialing the number Hopper gave him.
Eddie fiddles with his rings as Steve listens to the line trill. Each passing moment makes Steve’s heart beat a little harder in his ears. His stomach seems to think he’s on a boat. Eddie can tell when she answers because Steve stops breathing. Eddie’s hand finds his thigh, grounding him once more. 
“Uh- hey, Mom. Hopper got your message to me,” Steve says nervously. 
He’s silent for a while. There's just the muffled sound of Max tickling Jack through the door. 
“Yeah, she’s good. We’re doing good.”
No thanks to you, Eddie wants to spit into the phone. 
“Did they say how long?”
Steve takes a stuttering breath. His hand grabs onto Eddie’s on his thigh. Eddie gives it a comforting squeeze.
“Okay, yeah, I’m off on weekends- What? ”
He pauses with an incredulous expression staring off to Jack’s side of the room.
“That’s not happening. I don't want her near him,” he states firmly.
Eddie's eyebrows furrow in concern. 
“You know why,” Steve scoffs.
His grip on Eddie’s hand tightens.
“I'm her father. It's my job to protect her and keep her safe. A job I take seriously, unlike Dad,” he snaps.
Eddie sits with him patiently as he sets up a time and day to go see his dad. Steve doesn't ask, but Eddie takes a mental note of it to make sure he’s available for Jack. When he hangs up he only gives a curt bye. He throws the phone into his pillows and runs his free hand over his face.
“They gave him three months max. He… he fucking wants to see Jack. Can you believe that? After what he did- everything he did, he has the nerve to ask to see her?” Steve says, but it sounds more like thinking out loud. 
Eddie sits awkwardly wondering if he can ask, if that's too much. He has no context outside of what Robin said and what he picked up in high school, which wasn't much. Steve doesn't talk about his parents. He doesn't talk much at all about his life before Jack. It’s like his life didn't start until hers did so that's as far back as his memory stretches.
“I… You don't have to tell me, but I don't actually know what he did. I mean, Robin mentioned you getting kicked out, but other than that…,” Eddie says tentatively.
Steve sighs and drops his gaze to his lap. His and Eddie’s hands are still conjoined on his thigh. He has no plans to change that. Eddie is his anchor in stormy seas.
“I'm sure you remember all the parties I used to throw back in high school,” he starts.
“Yeah, I made a killing at them.”
Steve actually lets out a single exhaled laugh. 
“I did that because they were never home and, honestly, I hated being in that house alone. It was so big and empty all the time. Doing that worked for a while. Hell, even the clean-up after kinda became therapeutic. Then they would come home and it would be worse,” he tells Eddie.
His eyes stay on their hands. Eddie’s stays on Steve’s profile. His eyebrows knit with a hundred different emotions, but most prominently empathy. 
“Worse?” He prompts, afraid he knows the answer far too intimately.
“Y'know how I had to quit basketball junior year and it was a whole thing? I told everyone I just liked swimming more, but that wasn't exactly true. Turns out after a few concussions, your hand-eye coordination can really go to shit,” Steve huffs a sarcastic laugh.
Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand so he’ll look at him. When Steve does, he finds nothing but total understanding. Respect.
“I get it. Why d'you think I lived with Wayne? He had enough of me calling him crying at night. One day he just showed up with a suitcase and told my dad to fuck off,” Eddie says.
“He sounds like a badass,” Steve replies.
“He kinda is. You two would probably get along.”
Steve smiles at the thought.
“I kinda wish I had a Wayne growing up,” he muses.
“Yeah, me too. I would’a never guessed you had that going on at home. I probably would’a actually talked to you.”
“No one did, but Hopper. He couldn't do anything about it, though. My parents would’ve had his job and I would've been in the same position,” he sighs. 
“That why he’s so sweet on Jack?”
“I would argue it's hard not to be sweet on Jack,” Steve quirks a small smile.
“I’ll give you that. You made one cute kid,” Eddie agrees.
“Yeah, she’s pretty great, isn't she?” His nose wrinkles a little when he asks, face full of pride.
“I think she might be the best kid that's ever existed.”
“Even after all the trouble she gave you?”
“Especially after all that.”
Fuck if that doesn't knock Steve through a loop. His stomach is upside down, his heart is beating so fast he's sure it's disintegrated, and he wants nothing more than for Jack to be sandwiched between them again. The safety of Eddie makes more truths fall out. Suddenly, he wants to be seen by Eddie. He wants those deep coffee-brown eyes to glide over him and see all of him. Then, hopefully, Eddie won't run like Steve is always afraid his past will make people do.
“I dunno how much Robin told you, but my parents were pissed when they found out about Sarah. Wanted me to marry her, drop out of school, and work for my dad. I didn't want any of that, though. I knew Sarah didn't want a kid and I knew I didn't want to marry Sarah. So, there were about nine months of arguing, give or take. Then on my eighteenth birthday, I woke up and became a dad two hours later. I never understood my father less than when I saw Jack for the first time. I just don't get how you can look at something like that and feel anything, but love,” he tells Eddie, semi-lost in thought.
“I take it he wasn't happy,” Eddie replies.
Steve snorts sarcastically.
“My things were at the end of the driveway when I went home to grab a change of clothes. Well, the things they tossed out for me at least. I didn’t bother going back for the rest. If I’m being honest, I almost caved that day,” Steve shakes his head at the memory.
“What d'you mean?” Eddie asks softly.
“I was able to sleep at the hospital while Jack was there, but once she was discharged we would have been in my car. It felt over before it even began, like I lost. Like I proved everyone right immediately, that I can't do it. I was going to forfeit my custody, but Robin came barreling in and told me her parents wanted me to move in. Not that they said I could, but that they wanted me to. I guess… The Buckleys were my Wayne,” he realizes out loud. 
Eddie offers him a lovely little smile that draws Steve’s eyes to his lips.
“How long have you and Rob been friends?”
“Uh- Since about… two? No, three weeks before all of that. I had been hopping around jobs and ended up at Scoops Ahoy for a little while. We worked together,” Steve tells him. 
Eddie can't help, but laugh because of course. Of course, they had known each other less than a month, and yet the spunky little lesbian was offering him a home. Steve chuckles with him.
“Yeah, I usually leave that part out. It doesn't matter anyways, once you and your kid live with someone you get to know each other very fast,” he says. 
“Funny to think I started out as your sub,” Eddie jokes.
Steve gapes at Eddie for a moment. When he realizes Eddie doesn't know what he did, a smirk curls onto his lips.
“I don't recall you ever subbing for me,” he teases.
Eddie seems confused at first. Then it dawns on him and his face flushes red. He pushes into Steve with his shoulder playfully.
“Dick,” he jibes, “you know what I mean.”
“I don’t know, do I?” 
“I’d be careful, Harrington. Don't wanna back yourself into a conversation you can't get out of,” Eddie says tauntingly. 
“Alright, alright,” he concedes. 
“C’mon we got a little girl and a nosy young adult waiting for an update,” he gives Steve’s hand a tug. 
Steve tries to hate when Eddie accidentally makes them sound like a family. He doesn’t. He tries to hold onto Eddie's hand after the door opens. He wills himself not to let go. He does. 
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Robin doesn't waste any time pestering Eddie when the end of Steve’s pay period comes and goes. Eddie still hasn't asked Steve out. He hasn't done anything more than the flirting and embarrassingly unsubtle back and forth. How could he? 
“Rob, his dad is dying. I'm not asking him out when he's in a vulnerable state,” Eddie scoffs.
Robin groans over the phone.
“This is what I was trying to tell you! There is no invulnerable state! I love him, but Steve’s life is a mess, Eddie. And it's not his fault. Shit just happens to him. A lot. He doesn't deserve any of it, but he deals with it anyway. You’ll die waiting if you think you’ll find a time where it doesn't feel like everything is falling apart for him,” she half argues, half complains. 
Eddie pushes all the air out of his lungs through his nose. He knows she's right. Yet, it doesn't feel right to put Steve on the spot at a time like this. 
“I only need it to calm down for a day,” he reasons.
“It calmed down the first two weeks of his new job, but that still wasn't calm enough for you. What is?” She counters.
“Just a day when there's nothing. Nothing new, nothing bad, nothing stressful, just a day.”
“Okay, I’m going to say this as plainly as possible,” she sighs, “Just a day for Steve always has something new, something bad, and definitely something stressful. There will never be a time that feels right. I know you know that. So, just admit what this really is.”
“And what is this, really?” He questions.
“You’re scared,” she deadpans.
Eddie lets out an unconvincing pfffft.
“I’m not scared. I’m just… nervous,” he admits.
“About what?”
Eddie fiddles with his rings while holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. His legs are lounged up on the back of the couch while the rest of his body lays across the cushions.
“What if we don't work? What if we start dating and all that was really there was just flirting? Besides, he has a kid, Rob-”
“That you adore!”
“Yes, I do! That doesn't mean Steve wants help raising her from an ex-drug dealer with a truancy and trespassing record,” he argues. 
“Okay, first off, Steve is an ex-drug doer. Do you not remember you selling at his parties? Second off, none of that other bullshit matters. Steve knows who you are now and he likes that person. A lot,” she contends.
Eddie sighs, knowing she has a point. Actually, she has a few.
“After he sees his parents, alright?” 
“Eddie-”
“Look, Rob, I know. This is different, though. He told me about his parents and I get what he went through. This is gonna bring up a lot of shit, he's gonna need friends. I don't want to risk anything being awkward,” he all but pleads. 
He can hear her exhale sharply through her nose.
“Fine.”
Eddie may have bought himself some more time, but he still hasn't found the extra confidence he needs to follow through. 
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The house doesn't quite exist in real life the way it does in Steve’s mind. Years of thick muddy emotion have warped its image. He expects it to feel looming, maybe even look sinister. Something more akin to the boarded-up old Creel house over on Morehead. Anything to make his trembling hands feel more valid. It doesn't, though. It’s just a house. A house haunted with memories, but a house all the same.
It’s strange. He thinks the doorbell may even sound different than he remembers. When his mother answers the door she has the gall to do it with a soft face that looks far too much like Steve’s. That's one thing he's always been grateful for: he looks just like his mom, his dad is barely there. Maybe the Harrington men just have weak genes.
He’s in clothes he knows will look vaguely familiar to her. Faded, thrifted reminders of what he used to wear. The polos were ditched after Jack threw up on his last one. Turns out, they're pretty expensive. If there's one thing Steve has learned over the past six years, it's how much the Harringtons live in excess. When you always have it you don't think about it. When you don't it's impossible not to. 
Steve’s mom spends a lot of time catching him up on what they've been up to over coffee. He occupies his thoughts with his goodbye to Eddie earlier. It's funny how Eddie has gone from his last to his first call for Jack. He doesn't answer by asking if she’s okay anymore. Now, it’s usually a simple Everything good? Need a hand with the menace?
 Steve dropped Jack off with him at the store. Eddie set her up on her little keyboard he keeps behind the counter for her. That way she’s practicing, entertained, and supervised. He smiled when he placed the big black headphones over her ears. She’s started putting stickers on them. A lot of little stars, a few dinosaurs, and even a pink band-aid on the headband. 
Eddie pulled Steve a little off to the side before he goes. He offered him a soft, comforting smile. For a moment, Steve thought Eddie might kiss him. Their bodies hovering close, Eddie’s hand still holding Steve’s arm from pulling him, and Eddie’s tongue darting out to wet his lips. Then he started talking.
“Listen, don't be afraid to bail, okay?” He said in earnest.
“What does that mean?”
“Don't be afraid to just get the hell out of there if you want to. I know it's not your go-to move, but you need to put yourself first. Jack needs you to put yourself first… I need you to put yourself first, Stevie,” he studied Steve’s face as he spoke, voice gently cradling Steve’s heart. 
The words turned Steve into jello. He felt like he was wobbling uncontrollably. The only thing keeping him steady was a warm hand with freshly polished fingernails holding his arm. 
“I will,” he promised.
Eddie grew a fond little smirk.
“Take care of yourself for me, yeah?” He said.
“You first,” Steve matched his expression.
Eddie’s eyes melted into something tender.
“I mean it.”
“I know, Eds.”
Steve, of course, doesn't depart without a round of I love you mostest with Jack.
The whole world feels a little tilted. Or maybe that's just Steve. His mother talks, but he barely listens. Until he hears his name.
“How’s Little Steve?” She asks.
Steve takes a measured sip of his coffee, staring his mother down across from him in an armchair. 
“Her name is Jack,” he tells her cooly. 
“You named your daughter Jack ?” 
“No, I named her Jacquline, but she prefers just Jack,” he informs her.
“Well, she's still little, you can force that out of her,” his mother says like it's a relief.
Steve can't help it. Honestly, he doesn't even try to. His eyebrows furrow, he shakes his head a bit, and his mouth curls in distaste. 
“Why would I do that?” He questions.
“Something like Jackie would just be better suited for a cute little girl.”
“You don't even know what she looks like,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh, “She likes the name Jack. It's her name.”
His mother sighs and places her mug gently on the coffee table. Just like she used to when she was about to tell him how disappointed she was. The action alone raises Steve’s hackles.
“I’m not trying to argue, Steven. I’m simply trying to give you advice as a parent. You have to know what's best for your kids, even if they don't like it,” she says.
Steve’s nostrils flare. Don't be afraid to bail. He should. He knows he should.
“Yeah, well, forgive me if I don't take parenting advice from you. Jack is happy and healthy, not that you really even asked. Jack is only six years old and can play more than one instrument. You don’t care about any of that, though. Do you? You just care that I’m not raising her like you would; forcing her into an identity that she’ll grow up to hate,” he bites. 
She frowns, but Steve can't find it in himself to care. He takes another casual sip of his coffee. 
“Right… Well, it sounds like you’re doing okay, then,” she comments.
“Yeah, sure am. Is he awake yet?” 
His mother goes to check if his father’s woken up. When she comes down to beckon him up, he follows. Strangely, his heartbeat slows with each step closer. It’s like time is moving through him at the speed of molasses. After a small personal century, he makes it to the door. It's already open and waiting for him, making the terrible journey marginally easier. 
The man in the bed before him is a memory and not a good one. He’s gaunt, pale, with paper-like skin, and thin hair that he once would have paid anything to hide. The comforter nearly drowns him, just his neck up is visible. He offers Steve the smallest of smiles. Steve doesn't accept or return it. He just stands at the foot of the bed, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
“I’m glad you came,” his father’s weakened voice says.
“Why did you want me to?” Steve can't help but ask.
“Steven, there's no nice way to put it. I’m dying. I didn't want to do that without seeing my only son again. Without meeting my grandchild,” he answers.
“You can forget that last one. Jack isn't coming near this house. You get me, that's it,” Steve tells him.
He lets out a rattling breath that Steve thinks may be a sigh.
“How is her mother?” He asks. 
“I wouldn't know.”
“I suppose you never did learn a lesson.”
What kind of lesson is kicking your kid and his baby out? Steve thinks bitterly. Again he hears the words: don't be afraid to bail. 
“Is there an actual reason you wanted me here or am I free to go?” He questions.
“My estate.”
That takes Steve off guard. He didn't think his father's estate would be a discussion he's involved in.
“What about it?”
“I want to leave a good portion of it to my grandchild. That way she can do what you couldn't,” he informs Steve.
Steve’s heart drops to the floor. That would be life-changing money. It would mean college for Jack. He knows there's a catch, though. There always is.
“And what's that?” He asks tensely.
“Make the Harrington name proud.”
Steve's stomach joins his heart in a pile on the hardwood. There are so many things he could say, so many things he wants to say. He doesn't, though. Instead, he thinks about Jack and her future. 
“What do you want from me?”
“Weekends.”
“Weekends?”
“Now, because I believe you're stupid enough to turn down money that could change your daughter’s future, I only ask for time with you. I want to reconnect with my son in my last months. Perhaps by the end, I will get to do so with my granddaughter as well,” he explains. 
“So, you just want me to come by on the weekends?” Steve checks suspiciously.
“I want you here nine to five Saturday and Sunday,” his dad states. 
Steve scoffs.
“What the hell do you want me here that long for?” 
“In addition to spending time with me, you will relieve the regular nurse so she can be with her son on the weekends,” his father informs him.
Steve gapes in disbelief. He knows he needs to say no. He needs to stop entertaining this. There’s no way. There is no way he’s giving up his weekends with Jack. You need to put yourself first, he remembers Eddie telling him, Jack needs you to put yourself first… I need you to put yourself first. The problem with that promise is the fact that Steve Harrington is a father. A damn good one at that. Jack will always come first. He can't not entertain even the most ridiculous of ideas if there's a possibility of providing something for her.
“How much?”
“Does the amount matter that much? Isn't the knowledge it’ll be more than you could ever give her enough?” His father inquires.
Steve swallows the insult that pops into his mouth.
“It matters,” is all he can get out.
“In total, my estate is around $250,000. 100,000 would go to your mother and 150,000 to your daughter.”
Steve wipes the corners of his mouth as he takes that in. Roughly three months, maybe even less, of his weekends and Jack could have a bank account full of $150,000. How does he turn that down? How does he say no to his daughter’s choice to go to college? To have the secure life that he can’t give her? Then an awful thought strikes that causes bile to burn the back of his throat. Would denying her that make him no better than his father? He sighs with his hands on his hips. 
“Yeah, okay. Starting next week,” he answers.
His father gives him a sickly smile that he doesn't return. If Steve wasn't afraid of him taking the money from Jack he would tell his father he’s glad he’s dying. He’s excited to see a world without him in it. The thoughts bring him guilt immediately, but he also knows them to be true. 
Steve bids his father an awkward goodbye. His mother hugs him at the door. It takes him a second to hug back. The entire drive back to Eddie’s anxiety bores holes into his skin. He did the exact opposite of what he said he would do. It won't be as bad as the quarry. He’ll still be home by 5:30 every day. He just won't have the majority of his weekend to be with Jack anymore. Right when they were getting back into the groove of it. It's only for three months, he tells himself. He can do three months.
Eddie answers the door laughing.
“You don't have to knock, your kid is in here,” he says. 
Steve smiles shyly as he enters. Jack, as always, barrels toward him and he scoops her up. He really needed this, her wrapped around him. Her hold is always the most reassuring. As long as she’s hugging him like this he knows he's doing something right. He lets her drop down and go back to what she was previously doing. She’s playing with a handful of Eddie’s miniatures like they're tiny dolls. 
Eddie catches Steve's eye and nods toward the kitchen. Steve gets the clue and follows him. It’s far enough to talk low and not have Jack overhear, but they're still able to watch her through the doorway and cutout.
“How’d it go?” Eddie asks immediately in a hushed voice, leaning his hip against the counter.
Steve recounts the conversation with his mom. The faces Eddie makes reflect every thought Steve was having during the conversation. He talks about how weird it was being back and how his father is barely there anymore. He pauses before the estate talk, unsure how to admit the next part.
“Overall, it was okay then?” Eddie checks.
“It was… interesting. I’m- uh- I’m going back,” he answers hesitantly.
Eddie gives a few quick blinks.
“Why would you do that?” He crosses his arms, shoving his hands in his armpits.
Steve crosses his own arms as a reflex.
“Look, before I tell you, I need you to understand that this is complicated-”
“Steve,” Eddie interrupts sternly, but not aggressively, “Why are you going back there?”
“If I take care of him on the weekends until he kicks it, he’ll leave Jack $150,000,” he tells him plainly. 
An expression that's unfamiliar to Steve takes over Eddie’s face. It takes Steve a moment to realize it's irritation. Eddie glances down at his mismatched socks. He wets his lips before looking back up at Steve.
“What happened to putting yourself first?” He asks, voice low and a little pained. 
“Eddie, I’m a dad. I need to think about Jack first,” he sighs.
“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “Today you needed to think about yourself. If you had and come to me, I could have thought about Jack. I could have helped you figure it out.”
“What's there to figure out? It’s either I do it and can provide for her or I don't and I can’t,” Steve huffs. 
“I could have helped you think it through, weigh the pros and cons. I mean, have you even thought about what you're doing with Jack while you're there? Have you thought about how this might mess with her like your hours at the quarry did?” Eddie can't hold his tongue the way he knows he should.
He knows this isn't his place. He isn't Jack’s parent and Steve isn’t his partner. The moment Eddie steps too close to the line and trips the “calling Steve a bad parent” alarm, Steve’s defenses go up. 
“Of course, I have! It's for three months, at most. I don't understand why you’re being like this. Don't you get what that money could do for her?” Steve questions.
“I get it, but money isn't everything, Steve. You’re providing for her now and she's happy. There are other ways to pay for college. This isn't your only option! Sometimes putting Jack first means putting yourself first. And this? This was one of those times,” Eddie states, clearly growing in annoyance. 
Something bursts in Steve. It's like a button that goes flying and hits all the wrong places in his body. Hurt leaks out of the wounds it leaves behind from Eddie’s judgment. 
“She’s happy because she doesn't know any better! All she’s ever known is the nothing I can give her, but not me. Not me, Eds, I know better. I know all the things I’ll never be able to give her. Doing this, I finally have the chance to give to her what I couldn't have- a chance to have a choice in what her future looks like,” he half shouts half cries as his tears betray him.
Something close to agony takes over Eddie’s features. He runs a hand over his face and looks away for a moment. He needs a break from looking at what he’s done to Steve. It hurts so fucking bad, but he needs to hear what Eddie is saying. Eddie knows that. Eddie also knows that Steve is too hurt to be reasoned with. He’s convinced his choice was the only choice. He forgot that he has Eddie to help him with Jack every step of the way. 
“Whatever, I’m not watching her while you're there. I refuse to be part of this,” Eddie decides softly.
Steve lets out a wet, sarcastic laugh
“Fine! I’ll bring her with me if I can't find anyone. She doesn't have to go in the room,” he shrugs.
Eddie’s face twists in frustrated shock. He thinks about Jack in that house with those people. She might be a Harrington, but she’s not one of them. Picturing her in an environment so similar to his own growing up makes him nauseous. He sees an image of his younger self hiding under the table with his hands over his ears as his father screamed about something. Then, Jack is replacing him, and his instinct to protect her kicks in.
“I’m not letting you bring her near that house,” he tells Steve.
“It’s not really your choice. You’re not her dad, remember? You're just her music teacher,” Steve snaps and storms away from him.
Eddie stands there frozen in the place where Steve just stabbed him through the heart. He hears Jack ask what they were fighting about and Steve tells her not to worry about it. He tells her everything is okay. If Eddie didn't feel like he was bleeding out he might have challenged that. They leave quicker than Jack can say goodbye. Quicker than Eddie can get himself to turn around. How is it possible for words to shatter every bone in his body? That must be what's happening, there's no other explanation for all this pain. 
Jack cries the entire way home because she didn't get to say goodbye to Eddie. Steve tries to console her, but she’ll have none of it. By the time they're entering the apartment, she’s transitioned from crying to angry. Her little stomps communicate what she can’t verbally yet. 
She asks him why they were fighting and why Steve was being mean to Eddie. He knows he can't tell her the truth, she won't understand. He also knows Jack will side with Eddie no matter what. Steve’s side will look like less Steve and no Eddie to her. She won't have that. So, he tells her sometimes friends argue and that expressing how you feel doesn't equal being mean. He turns this into a lesson for her. He finds a way to make this into something he can provide her with. It lets him feel a little less helpless.
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A few days after the argument with Steve, Wayne is understandably confused to see Eddie on his doorstep unplanned and unannounced. Usually, he’ll call ahead to make sure Wayne is home. This time he was ready to let himself in and wait on the couch if he had to. A solemn expression is etched onto his face. Worry instantly takes over Wayne’s. He’s in his normal denim and flannel.
“What’s going on, Ed?” He asks gently.
Eddie clears his throat of the lingering emotion.
“I think I really fucked up,” his voice comes out hoarse.
Wayne immediately ushers him inside. Eddie lets himself be guided to the ratty old couch that used to be Wayne’s bed. When he sits down, Wayne places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Tell me what happened,” he says.
Eddie exhales deeply through his nose. Then he tells Wayne every regretful thing he said to Steve. He hates himself more the second time. It wasn’t entirely his fault, he wasn't entirely in control. The memories took the reins and turned him reactionary. He felt the line he leaped over like a hurdle pass by beneath him, but had no breaks. 
“That ain’t good, Ed,” Wayne sighs when Eddie finishes.
“I know. Jesus, he probably hates me. I would hate me,” Eddie drops his face into his hands. 
“I’m sure he doesn't hate you. He may be mighty upset, but hate is strong,” Wayne tells him thoughtfully. 
“I might as well have called him an awful father and spit in his face,” Eddie agonizes.
“Well, do you think he’s an awful father?”
Eddie’s head shoots up to look at Wayne incredulously. 
“What? No, Steve is literally the best father I've ever seen,” he states.
“Alright, so go apologize.”
“I don't think he wants to hear from me.”
“Ed, you've been coming ‘round here talking about that Harrington kid and the amazing little girl he’s got for months now. Based on what I hear, I can tell you that a call from you wouldn't be turned down. Especially not if it included a genuine apology,” Wayne says.
Eddie sits with his uncle’s words for a moment. Part of what's holding Eddie back is the embarrassment. He’s embarrassed by how he acted and he wants nothing more than for Steve to come over with Jack again. He wants nothing more than for Steve to look at him again. The last time Steve’s eyes met his, they were full of hurt Eddie wished he could snatch back.
“I hope so ‘cause, Wayne, I dunno how to live without them anymore,” he admits pathetically.
“I know, kiddo. For what it's worth, I think they'd have a hard time without you too,” Wayne tells him softly. 
Eddie gives him a small smile. Then his eyes go vulnerable and nervous.
“Do you think I’d be good at it?” He asks.
Wayne furrows his eyebrows at his nephew.
“Good at what?”
“Y’know… being a dad.”
Wayne’s features soften as he studies his nephew. Where does the time go? It feels like just yesterday he was hauling Eddie back to Hawkins with him. Now, here Eddie sits considering fatherhood. 
“I think you already are,” he answers honestly.
“Steve’s made it very clear I’m not,” Eddie counters self-deprecatingly.
“That's only ‘cause in trying to be a dad you forgot to be a partner too. You made Steve feel like you were against him, not with him. You gotta find a balance, Ed. You gotta talk about boundaries when it comes to that kid. You two were riding so high on emotion neither of you took the time to really think. Maybe it got too family-like too fast, or maybe y’all just need to get better at talking, I don't know. All I know is, with the way you talk about those two, that’s your family. If there’s anything I’ve taught you, I hope it’s that the one thing we do for our family is fight for’em. Sometimes with’em, but always for’em,” Wayne lectures with a warm tone that soothes Eddie.
Eddie takes a steadying breath and he absorbs his uncle’s words. He nods, staring down at where he fiddles with his rings.
“Thanks, Wayne, for everything,” he says softly.
“It's what I’m here for,” Wayne shrugs.
“No, I mean… everything. I know how hard it must've been to raise me. Before Steve, I thought I got it, but I didn't. I didn't until I saw him doing it,” he elaborates.
Wayne smiles tenderly.
“Eddie, it’s what I’m here for.”
Eddie smiles and hugs his uncle. It’s a sweet reminder that this little trailer in Forest Hills will always welcome him home.
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What does it mean to provide such gentle touches to the man who provided you with violent blows? It has to have some meaning, right? Some poetic or cosmic justice that makes this make sense. Steve’s father put him and Jack out on the street on the day she was born. On Steve’s birthday. So, why does he now find himself giving his bedridden dad his weekends? Why can't he tell him to fuck off like Eddie wanted? The answer is the same for everything else he does. Jack.
Jack is why he’s working himself to death. Jack is why he's subjecting himself to his father every weekend. Jack is why he hasn't spoken to Eddie, aside from passing greetings when dropping her off at the store, in a week. He never once thinks that Jack is the reason he’s miserable, though. She isn't. She’s the only thing that brings him joy through all this. She is his smile. Only right now, he’s frowning at Robin at the Buckley’s. 
Steve, Jack, and Robin have dinner with Grandma and Grandpa Buck once a month. Jack is in the kitchen helping Grandma Buck stir the stew while Grandpa Buck works on his car out in the garage. Robin hasn't said a word. She’s just staring. Steve has grown a frown in response.
“What, Rob?” He finally breaks.
“Max told me there's something going on with you and Eddie,” she blurts.
Steve sighs and closes his eyes for a second.
“What did she say?” He asks, already tired of the conversation.
“Well, Eddie isn't really saying much. So, all she knows is from Jack. Jack told her you two got into a fight and made each other sad,” she tells him softly. 
Steve exhales a laugh through his nose.
“Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it.”
“Are you going to talk it out?” 
“We… both said some things I’m not sure there's coming back from,” he shakes his head slightly.
“There’s no way either of you said anything that bad,” she attempts to assure him. 
Steve levels Robin with a sad stare.
“He tried to tell me how to parent Jack and I called him just her music teacher,” he sighs.
Robin lets out a low whistle.
“Yeah, okay, that’s… not great. I still think you can talk through it, though.”
Steve rubs his eyes in exhaustion.
“Rob, he crossed a line. I know that it can feel like co-parenting at times, but it's not. I love him, but we’re not together and he's not her parent,” he states frustratedly.
Robin’s eyes nearly fly out of her head. Steve gives her a questioning look. A shit-eating grin appears on her face.
“Steve,” she says.
“What?”
“Steve! ”
“Robin, if you're not gonna tell me-”
“You love Eddie?” Her voice was quieter, likely to avoid Jack accidentally overhearing. 
Steve’s heart picks up at breakneck speed. Heat floods his entire body as a knot tightens in his stomach. That is what he said, isn't it? Is that why this whole situation has felt like someone taking a set of pliers to his teeth?
“Fuck,” he breathes, wiping the corners of his mouth as he stares blankly at the coffee table.
“I think now’s the time you run to him and have a dramatic make-up scene,” Robin teases.
Steve frowns.
“It doesn't change anything. He told me he wouldn't let me bring Jack to my parents’ place. He questioned if I had Jack’s best interest in mind. He’s just another person to add to the list of people who think I’m fucking this whole thing up,” he mumbles the last part bitterly. 
Robin’s features melt into concern. She leans forward, arms on her knees.
“No one thinks that. I can tell you for a fact that Eddie definitely doesn't think that. He… could have handled things better, sure, but he thinks the world of you as a father, Steve. I mean, you have to know that by now,” she says sympathetically. 
“Then he can tell me that after apologizing,” Steve scoffs. 
“Yeah, that’s fair,” she nods.
Jack comes darting into the room and announces dinner has been finished. She takes them both by the hand to lead them to the dining room. Steve spends the rest of the night thinking about how he’s in love with Eddie Munson. 
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It might be playing dirty, but Steve found a loophole. He asks Max to watch Jack on Saturday. Which means Jack ends up at Mordor Music. Eddie can't pretend like he's upset. Seeing Jack is always a treat. She bounds in, Max trailing behind, with an excited stream of Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! He loves when she acts like she didn't just see him the other day for her lesson.
Eddie is crouched behind the counter, searching for a new pack of pens. The last one died unceremoniously on him as he was logging inventory. 
“Uh-oh, I hear trouble,” he announces with a smile as he stands up.
Jack doesn't hesitate running around to the back of the counter. Eddie scoops her up so she can cling to him. 
“I miss you,” she whines.
His heart aches.
“I know, I miss you too, princess,” he says softly.
“Daddy misses you too,” she tells him.
A sad smile crawls onto his face.
“Yeah? I miss him too,” he admits.
“When can I see your little guys again?” She asks with big eyes so dark they may just swallow all light that comes close.
Eddie cringes and his eyes shift to Max. She leans her elbows on the other side of the counter. A small smile is on her face as she watches the two of them. She offers him a sympathetic, but comforting look.
“I- uh- I dunno, but I hope soon,” he answers warmly.
“Will you come to Thanksgiving?” Jack asks hopefully.
Eddie gets stuck in an awkward uh… for a moment. His eyes dart between Jack and Max. Max looks happy to not be in Eddie’s shoes right now.
“I- I don't know. I got family to see too, y’know,” he answers with a tight smile.
Jack settles a confused look on him. She always manages to let him know when she thinks he's being stupid with just a look.
“Your family is the same as mine,” she tells him.
Eddie’s own face twists into confusion. 
“What d'you mean?”
She seems to struggle frustratedly with her words. Sometimes Jack has thoughts and feelings bigger than her vocabulary. As a kid who can usually tell you how she feels, it can be annoying for her.
“I’m your family. You have to eat with me,” she informs him.
Eddie could've cried right then and there. Popping sparks of electric joy travel across his skin. Jack thinks of him as family. His joy falters when he thinks of Steve. Eddie isn't sure Steve would feel the same.
“I would love to eat with you, princess, but I got my own dad waiting for me,” he says.
She’s utterly taken aback by that new bit of information. Her two little hands find Eddie’s face as she stares with set brows.
“When did you get a daddy too?” She asks very seriously. 
It takes everything for Eddie not to start laughing. Even Max claps a hand over her mouth to stop herself. Jack’s just so serious it's adorable. He thought calling Wayne his dad would be less complicated. That word better fits their relationship anyways. Boy, was he wrong.
“I've always had one. I just don't live with him anymore so you've never met.”
Jack frowns. It dawns on Eddie that she’s used to people showing up and being added to their mod podge family. Naturally, she assumed that's what happened with Eddie. It did happen with Eddie in a way, but now he's not certain of where he stands. It startles him when sadness takes over her soft round features.
“I thought you were ours,” she says quietly with a slight waver. 
Eddie knows she didn't mean the words to feel as heavy as they do. He swears they rip him in half, right down the center. His lips part slightly as he tries to figure out what to say. Max can only offer a small smile before walking into the back. Eddie sighs and sits Jack on the counter in front of him. He uses his newly free hands to comb through his hair. I thought I was yours too, he thinks, but then I went and fucked it all up. 
“Hey, listen to me, alright,” he says softly, “As long as you want me to be your family, I’m your family. Me having a dad doesn't change that, okay?”
She nods, her big eyes sparkling with a swirl of emotions. 
“I like it better with you,” she tells him.
He doesn't have to ask what she means, he knows. Jack likes her family, and her life, better with Eddie in it. It’s enough to flatten him out. It’s enough to light a flame of determination to talk and apologize to Steve. 
“Yeah, I like it better with you too.”
Steve walks into the store at five-fifteen that evening. At first, he doesn't see anyone. Then he can hear the giggling. Only, it isn't just Jack’s. It’s Eddie’s too. As he continues forward, they come into view. Jack sits in Eddie’s lap on the chair behind the counter, off to the side. Eddie has a magazine open in front of them. Whatever articles Jack pointed out Eddie would read in different funny and dramatic voices. The content of the articles doesn’t matter, just the voices Eddie is doing. They make her giggle, which makes Eddie giggle.
As he gets closer, Steve catches Eddie’s attention. His startled eyes flicker from Steve to the clock on the wall. He quickly closes the magazine, which finally brings Jack’s attention to Steve. She hops off of Eddie’s lap to run and jump into his arms. The tightness and urgency of Steve’s hug don't go unnoticed by Eddie. He hugs her like that after a tough day. Eddie knows that because he’s seen plenty of Steve’s tough days by now.
“Uh- sorry, Max had to run out for a second so I was just trying to entertain her,” he’s quick to explain. 
He didn't expect Steve’s sweet honey eyes to meet his with a warmth that raises his body temperature. The smallest hint of a smile plays on the corners of Steve’s mouth. Eddie can't help wondering if Steve is happy to see him despite everything, just like Eddie is.
“It’s okay. Thanks for watching her,” he says as he lets her down.
“Yeah, ‘course, I’m happy to,” Eddie replies. 
There's a beat of awkward silence as Jack retrieves apple juice. Eddie ran across the street to grab it earlier. Steve’s eyes stay trained on Eddie and vice versa. Finally, Eddie musters up the courage.
“Steve, I’m real-”
“Not now,” Steve shakes his head.
Eddie visibly shrinks in the wake of rejection. 
“I know and I want to talk, but I’m exhausted right now, Eds.”
Eddie nods in understanding. Jack hugs Eddie goodbye. He’s wondering if he should say goodbye to Steve the right way when he’s beaten to it.
“Take care of yourself for me,” Steve tells him softly.
A smile dripping in all the warm gooey emotion Eddie is experiencing grows on his face.
“You first,” he responds.
Then they're gone. Eddie is left sitting there with a racing heart and the deep ache to follow them.
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<< Page Two | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Four >>
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14 notes · View notes
trashpocket · 2 years
Note
hey just wanted to pop in and say that any pacific rim AU is high quality and an indication of impeccable taste, but making it Steve and Robin as a drift compatible pair, and Eddie as the mechanic who hates sending them out there is extra genius.
if I may add just one more concept to the table: Dustin as the kid with the kaiju obsession. he knows all sorts of stuff about their behaviors and biology, and maybe he bugs Steve to try and sneak him samples so he can mess with them. he has quite a few suspicious mason jars under his bed. and Eddie will pepper little kaiju details into the enemies in their DnD games because it makes Dustin happy. also, with Eddie being a drug dealer, and kaiju parts being highly sought after for medicinal purposes, I imagine he knows a bit about the kaiju too, but he's a bigger fan of them when they're dead.
AHHHHHHH, THANK YOU SM!!!!!! when i thought about the pacific rim AU at first glance, it already made sense to me that robin and steve would be the copilots, not only because it'd feel half assed to slap on eddie as his copilot and let them go to town, it'd make me feel like I've disregarded and deliberately misunderstood the dynamics between all three of them, if I hadn't made Steve and Robin the copilots and soulmates. Steve and Robin's friendship mean so much to me, because it not only mirrors what me and my bestie have (platonic with a capital P, each of us LITERALLY having the same dynamic, and me having liked him before, then getting rejected cause of), but having a platonic bound be so strong that they're two sides of the same coin, halves to each others whole, means a lot to me. And I believe that Steve needs a platonic bond so bad, because he's surrounded with so much potential partners in women, so much romance signaling that it's fuckn overwhelming and I fully believe Robin balances out all of that, all of his traits and little quirks and I'm not saying that is her purpose—because it is NOT, she is her own person and she exists OUT of Steve, not around him—I'm rather, seeing it as a side effect, so Steve and Robin are good for each other that way.
That, and Eddie as a mechanic makes so much sense, esp if we factor in the angst that this bad boi can give us. Not only that, but Eddie's creative mind tinkering with the Jaeger's design and model, constantly modifying like he does to his clothes in canon. Eager to help even though it fucking scares him that two of the people he loves always walk into the battlefield, knowing they might die. He's so fucking afraid for them, even though he KNOWS they signed up for this. signed their lives away for the world, so Eddie makes sure to do everything down to perfection cause mama,,,, he doesn't want to be the reason the jaeger fails. Doesn't want to see every avoidable little thing that might cause a chain reaction, that will cause him to lose robin, and most esp steve. Everyday, or on the days that kaijus do appear out there, he wants them to fight to live, because if they die, he dies, knowing that he sent them out there to fail. That he could be the cause of their deaths. So he prays to whatever god out there that his jaegers dont fucking break too fast before steve can return home.
And AHHHH, dustin being obsessed over Kaijus—I can TOTALLY see it. his dangerous fascination with things? Similar to Dart in s2. Eddie would def keep a small collection of Kaiju parts, not only cause theyre good to deal as a side hustle, the mofo think its pretty metal too (jk jk)
but yes, I agree, he likes them more when they're dead
sorry for the lil rant HAAHAHAHA
just wanted to thank u and say i feel honored, that u like this au, more particularly, the art i mde if
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THIS IS OUR YEAR
Chapter Five: Teenage Antics
tw drug use, drinking
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"Do you want a line of something?" Eddie asks as we drink one of his beers in the van, waiting for his friends to meet us and walk up. "You seem super nervous and its making me nervous to meet my own friends"
"Sorry." I say, looking down at my fingers wringing my wrists. "What have you got?"
He reaches under my seat for something, his head basically in my lap as he does so. He looks up at me and winks before pulling back. He places his little metal lunchbox on his lap and opens it, various baggies and pieces of foil inside.
"I have some coke, ket and acid, but I don't think we should do acid just yet."
"Coke please." I nod.
"Coke it is, Bubblegum."
He takes out a little glass vial full of white powder, tapping it onto the plastic of a Mötley Crüe album before using a Family Video card to chop the lines. He puts a metal straw in my hand and holds the case up to me. I cover my left nostril, put the end of the tube in the other and sniff the two lines. They sting my nose a little and I hand the straw to Eddie, and hold the case for him.
I feel instantly better. 
"Thank you, just keep my tab open and I'll settle at the end of the night." I smile at him as he puts his stuff away. 
"Yeah, yeah, lets see about that." he laughs, rolling his eyes and tucks the stuff in my bag. "I'll carry this thing"
Eddie's friends arrive soon after and I jump out of the van and walk awkwardly behind him.
I recognise one of the girls as Robin, I'd seen her around school but I didn't recognise the other girl and I guessed the guy with the hair was Steve so that would make the guy with the stoner face Johnathan.
"Well hello friends, Nancy, Robin, Johnathan and Harrington, aka Steve "the hair" Harrington, please meet new friend, Tallulah, aka Bubblegum" Eddie loudly bellows, doing a huge bow and motioning between his friends and me as he says our names .
"Wow, you are like super gorgeous." Nancy says, coming up and wrapping me in a hug.
I immediately give her a squeeze back.
"Nuhuh, that's you." I respond, meaning it. She was gorgeous, I was thankful for the cocain awakening my social skills. "Munson, you didn't tell me you had such attractive friends."
The boys laden themselves with all the bags, chair and other items needed for teen antics. I try to grab my own back and Eddie snatches it away before I'm even close.
"You dare even try Bubblegum, and I will end you. I am chivelrous as fuck."
I feel myself flush bright pink and he runs away, cackling, burdened with both our bags and two camping chairs slung over his back. I walk with Nancy and Robin and the lads take the lead.
As robin stumbles again I grab her arm and link it through mine.
"I've got you girl," I laugh and she shoots me a thankful look.
"I don't get it, how are you hiking in pink platform boots and I'm falling about in sneakers?" Robin enquires, shaking her head.
"Sheer will." I answer and we laugh.
It's not long until we're sat in front of the rock, which admitedly looks like a skull, and the guys get to work on creating fire. I help set up the chairs around the campfire and soon we're sat warming up and sinking drinks back.
Eddie chooses the chair closes to the one I'm sat in, and moves it closer to me. I pull out some plastic cups and poor everyone a rum and coke (except Johnathan who is the designated driver), and we cheers to each other and new friends and laugh and they got to know a bit about me.
"Can I ask what your accent is about?" Nancy blurts, like she's been trying to keep it in.
"Oh yeah, it's weird as fuck, right?" I laugh, shaking my head. "I was born and raised in England, lived all over there until fourteen and then moved to the US and I've been bouncing between states for the last four years cos my mum can't stay in any one place for more than a few months."
"Okay, that makes sense. I thought you had the British accent but you have the odd word that made me doubt myself."
Eddie jumps up from his seat and points in Nancy's face.
"Never doubt yourself young Hobbit!" he yells before swing back to me. "Come with me m'lady,"
I take the hand he's offering me and he pulls me up.
"We will consume some narcotics away from the children " he announces as he leads me away from the group. We help each other so a few more line with his little kit.
"They'll partake in smoking, but I like to be a respectful drug consumer " he explains as we walk back.
"That's very courteous of you-" the last part of the sentence and I finally stumble in these boots. I feel myself fall towards the floor and shriek. I expect to feel hard ground coming up to meet me but instead I rough hands and strong arms.
"Whoa there, Bubblegum." he pulls me up to stand straight again. "are you ok?"
I nod, blushing. Once again glad for the cocaine, otherwise my mine would run wild with body insecurities and how heavy I was. I turn away quickly and head for our chairs, I pick up the glass bottle half full of dark liquid.
"More rum?" i ask the circle and they all cheer.
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itsapeterthing · 1 year
Note
9 with Bucky Barnes and Jack Russell (can be poly if you write poly relationships, I can't decide if I want one or the since I love both equally 😍)
Mornings with Bucky Would Include…
Headcanons on Mornings with Bucky Barnes
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author’s note: hi hun thanks for requesting! others requested one for jack russell so his will be in a separate post! i hope you enjoy this short and sweet headcanon list!
masterlist || inbox || bucky barnes masterlist
i think when you two first started dating, there wouldn’t be much in terms of mornings together.
as much as bucky had opened himself up to the idea of a relationship, he couldn’t help but have this voice at the back of head that convinced him that something bad would happen.
and since you were his first priority, that would mean that you would fall asleep in his arms and wake up in an empty bed.
and every morning you would climb out of bed and make your way into the living room, finding him half asleep on the couch.
“why did you leave?”
“uh... i uh... snore.”
and you just cross your arms and give him a look.
eventually, you would convince him that you feel safer in his arms throughout the night and wake up with him beside you in the mornings.
every morning when you first woke up, you mentally thanked whatever architect had designed your bedroom window to face the rising sun because the way the light poured in through the blinds and onto buck’s back was heavenly.
^ yes, i think bucky sleeps on his stomach when he’s not holding you. i didn't think this until three seconds ago, but now its a hill i’ll die on. sue me.
it’s hard to say whether he wakes up first or you.
buck’s prone to waking up early thanks to his days of rough gigs back in the forties before his time in the army and being held captive by hydra, but if he’s really comfortable around you and feels secure in everything going on around him, I think he would snooze for hours past you.
if he wakes up first, he would probably stay still for a while just admiring you, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber.
sometimes (most of the time) he gets sentimental and thanks whoever’s looking out for him that despite everything else he’s dealt with, at least they gave him you.
buck is rough and ragged and probably wouldn’t say that to you first thing in the morning, but just know that he’s thinking it.
there are two types of wake up calls with bucky.
one, like the moment mentioned above,
where he would run his hand up and down your back, leaving kisses against your cheek.
(maybe even whispering a sweet nothing or two in his raspy morning voice he knows you love so much).
and you two would lay in bed much longer than either of you had anticipated, just basking in your slow mornings with one another.
however, the second one is much different.
(and arguably more romantic)
a lot of people, including bucky himself, forget what the super soldier was like before hydra and the army.
sure, he was tough and a flirt, but he was also cocky as hell and would tease his sisters, mom and steve rogers endlessly.
and you, his amazing, wonderful, beautiful significant other were no different.
seeing you in your peaceful daze, bucky would use his vibranium arm as a torturous alarm clock, letting the cold metal meet the sensitive skin around your cold waist.
and you, of course, jolt into consciousness.
“are you kidding me, buck!”
“what! you said you wanted to wake up early!”
-amid chuckles in the cockiest voice you’ve ever heard
“not like that!”
now, I would like to tell you that bucky would cook breakfast for you, but I don't know that what he made could be considered breakfast.
if you didnt wake up to him beside you, you'd wake up to the fire alarm blaring from the kitchen.
you’d find your poor bucky boy flailing over the stove, swatting smoke out of the way while he cursed to himself.
“shit. shit. shit!”
you’d appreciate the effort but after taking a single glance at the burnt monstrosity in the skillet, you’d give each other a knowing look.
“how about we go to a restaurant?”
“sounds like a plan, doll.”
probably both of your favorite parts of every morning was just waking up in each other’s arms and having the one you love be the first thing that you see (and a lovely way to start your day).
bucky would always be a bit more sentimental because every morning with you beside him was another day he got to have you by his side.
and he would never not thank his lucky stars that he’d have you to the end of the line.
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danwhobrowses · 2 years
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House of the Dragon - Eps 1&2 Thoughts and Review
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Fire cannot kill a dragon, and yet we can afford to be burned twice.
In Spite of the bitter taste of Game of Thrones' finale, I like many others have plunged myself into House of the Dragon with tempered expectation of the prequel. Now that the first two episodes are out - and totally not because I forgot to do a standalone one for episode 1 - I'm gonna start giving my blind thoughts on the matter.
To be clear, I'm not super familiar with this story, I know it's covered in a book and other reactors inform me that the book has two unreliable accounts (a Maester and a Court Jester) and this is a 'how it really happened' version for the tv version rather than the book version - so there are some changes and age ups - but otherwise I am blind to the direction it's going, so here's my thoughts on it.
Spoilers for the first two episodes of course, and a bit of Game of Thrones too, give them a watch first if you don't want some plot points ruined for you
So this is a good start, I think I am still a bit hesitant to go fully into it but I am liking what I'm seeing so far.
The first episode was good but I must admit I found myself more unsettled than entertained, purely because of the graphic C-Section scene and the presence of pus, I mean I never wanted to see it with the Jorah greyscale scene and I didn't want it here either, same with the sound of choking babies, it was perhaps too uncomfortable. I think the dragon CGI looked a bit wonky at times, it could be the gold on Syrax is just not great for CGI (I'm sure we all recall The Witcher's golden dragon) or perhaps the smoothness of its scales. I do feel 50/50 on the frequent need to reference Game of Thrones even though it's a prequel, on one hand I get it because it bridges the gap but on the other hand if this show is a prequel by over a century it's a little too on the nose.
Episode 2 was a lot better, but I think it suffered a narrative flaw of 'character a does not talk to character b' when it came to Viscerys announcing his marriage to Alicent, he made no effort to even discuss with Rhaenyra his intent to wed her best friend, which will inevitably start the rift between them showed in the trailers. It also doesn't make Viscerys look any better to go against his better counsel and alienating one of his strongest allies because Laena Velayron is 12, especially when Alicent is apparently around 15. The time jump is a little abrupt, though I feel that we may have more to come.
I will praise heavily the attention to detail when it comes to costuming, something the GoT universe hadn't ever had a problem with thriving on, but I will say that sometimes it does look like the helmets don't fit as well as they should. Then again, this could be an intentional design flaw since this is considered a more peaceful period of Westeros.
I like the characters so far, mostly at the least. So far the star of the show is Matt Smith's Daemon Targaryen, the sociopath prince who has become social media's latest beloved bastard, both cunning and childish he fits a balance of being a villain but also one who still cares about his family. Rhaenyra and Alicent's younger actors have done really well, as has Rhys Ifans' Otto Hightower. Paddy Considine has been really good as the grieving king Viscerys I, completing subverting the descendant of his namesake we're familiar with by appearing at the least as a fair King and a decent person put under a lot of pressure by traditions. Sian Brooke did very well as Queen Aemma, given how she would be the first major casualty of the show, it is a shame we won't get more of her. Episode 2 got to showcase Eve Best's Rhaenys (George making it really easy to second guess every Targaryen's name and spelling) and Steve Toussaint's Corlys a bit more but we still need more of them, same for Graham McTavish's Ser Harrold and Fabien Frankel's Criston Cole, who have simply looked formidable among the crowd. We are yet to have a slew of charismatic characters equal to Tyrion, Tywin, Cersei, Ned, Arya, Bronn, Littlefinger, The Hound and Varys, but we can give it time.
Story-wise, I wish we had more time with Rhaenyra and Alicent before their rift, they established their friendship well but it probably would've hit deeper if we had more time with them, I understand the time jump but we could've had a bit more in between. While I don't think Daemon's a good guy, or that he'd be the worst king (more that he'd be a ruthless one), I do agree with him that the Small Counsel are trying to manipulate Viscerys for their own gains, seen most blatantly by Otto and Corlys throwing their daughters at him. Daemon being rescinded as an heir is grief-driven, especially since we never see him say it, but Daemon's reaction to it as detailed in Episode 2 doesn't do him any favours towards making it seem unfair. Viscerys as I pointed out is a good guy, but he seriously needs to work on his communication, from not telling Aemma his choice to let her die to try and save his son, to not discussing his marriage decisions with anyone or even trying to prepare his daughter for the throne, there is a difference between 'You will learn' and 'Let me teach you'. Alicent seems sweet, for now at least Arya and Daenerys once seemed sweet too, she is in a tough spot that makes me sympathise with her, I don't sympathise with Corlys as much, Viscerys should have married his daughter (or at least sought another way to merge their houses) but his own reaction going straight to Daemon proves that his ambitions are greater than his loyalty.
Of the two episodes I think my favourite scenes so far have been the jousting tournament - both for its visual spectacle but also as a strong introduction to Cole to what I guess will set up a feud between the two - and Viscerys confronting Daemon from Episode 1, and the Dragonstone standoff from Episode 2, not in that order though. The show has promise but since we're still in 'setup' we'll see on the next episode if it can up the ante.
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neondarklight · 2 years
Text
Alright, I’m gonna post some various takes of various temperatures, all categorized. If you have something to say about them, I’d really appreciate you sending me an ask. I have zero problem with clarifying any of these.
Fire Emblem:
Most, if not all people who believe that Edelgard did nothing wrong and is heroic on all routes are antisemitic.
What Fire Emblem needs most of all right now is for its next original main game to have a “back to basics” approach.
Three Houses’ approach to classes should not become the new normal. Same goes for how magic works in that game.
Three Houses is a terrible entry point into Fire Emblem for new fans. It’s a good game, it just fails as an entry point.
Like it or not, Edelgard is a bigot.
Dimitri isn’t some dumbass fence-sitter. For fuck’s sake, he implements a constitutional monarchy in his solo ending on AM.
The Friendship and Marriage Seals in Fates were a genius idea.
Phoenix Mode was... fine, I guess? I mean, it’s entirely optional, so there’s that.
Danganronpa:
Hiyoko is a fucking child.
Yasuke is an abusive piece of shit and Junko was wholly justified in killing him.
Chihiro is transfem.
In the context of V3, Shuichi works better as a protagonist than Kaede due to the theme of Truth vs. Lies rather than Hope vs. Despair.
Flags:
The pride flag variant with the black, brown, and trans pride triangle is an awful design. Nothing wrong with its message, it’s just that the design itself fucking sucks.
The California state flag is fucking awful.
New Mexico has the best US state flag.
If Mississippi removed the “In G-d We Trust” from its state flag and instead had a complete ring of stars, it would probably be a top five US state flag.
The fact that Alaska’s state flag was designed by someone who was seven years old at the time is one of the main reasons why Alaska’s flag is as good as it is.
Indianapolis has a top five US city flag.
Lettering on flags is consistently a bad idea.
Pokémon:
Pokémon Black 3 and White 3 would be more appealing than Black and White remakes.
The VGC scene benefitted significantly from Dexit.
It makes sense that GameFreak tends to show favoritism towards VGC players over Smogon players, simply because VGC is the official competitive format while Smogon isn’t.
GameFreak has completely stopped giving a fuck about not causing too much powercreep.
Pachirisu winning Worlds in 2014 wasn’t a show of how you can “always win with your favorites” and to not care about a metagame, instead just making a “creative” team. Sejun Park picked Pachirisu to support his Mega Gyarados, which was frankly a more offbeat choice (that still made sense given the metagame), because Pachirisu was the Pokemon that was best equipped to support Mega Gyarados given the metagame.
A “creative” VGC team isn’t just slapping six random Pokémon and calling it a day. Creativity can also come in the form of movesets, EV spreads, etc.
Incineroar and Regieleki are more unhealthy for VGC than Landorus-T, and it isn’t even close.
Miscellaneous:
Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle is one of the best Switch games out there.
Dimentio > Fawful.
An all-winners season of Big Brother is an awful idea, simply due to the amount of winners that would actually come back.
Steve was easily the second-best player in BB17, and from the Final Six onwards, beats everyone other than Vanessa in a Final Two.
Survivor is not fake. [REDACTED] fell into a fucking fire (I feel bad for the fire for having to touch [REDACTED]). Russell Swan was collapsing and unconscious from dehydration. Caleb Reynolds nearly died from heat stroke.
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inimikal-archive · 2 years
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I’d  been  wanting  to  do  a  post  about  Wesker’s  “illness”  for  a  while  but  rip  my  activity.  Anyway,  tbh,  canon  only  really  gives  crumbs  about  it & I  haven't  fully  decided  how  /  what  way  I  want  to  explain  it.  I  think  the  suggestion  from  canon  was  not  so  much  that  Wesker’s  virus  was  killing  him,  as  such,  but  more  he  was  supressing  it & it  was  kinda  getting  out  of  control & consuming  him as  a  result.  For  now  that's  probably  the  take  I’m  going  to  go  with  because  it  feels  to  add  up &  I  was  theorising  a  similar  thing  with  my  G-virus  AU  anyway.  That  is  to  say  the  Virus  in  Wesker  had  met  its  “limits”  in  Wesker’s  human  form  & wanted  to  break  free  of  it,  but  Wesker  consciously  held  it  back  which  resulted  in  it  beginning  to  overact  &  poison  /  kill  him.
When  he was  no  longer  able  to  hold  it  back  through  sheer  mental  fortitude,  Excella  helped  him  develop  a  serum  that  would  supress  it.  Obviously  supressing  it  to  much  could  be  fatal,  but  so  was  letting  it  run  rampant  (at  least, possibly  for  Wesker’s  mind  +  image  anyway).  It  wasn’t  uncommon  for  Wesker  to  wonder  what  he  would/could  become  & it  was  Wesker  who  originally  came  up  with  the  theory  that  the  hosts  mutations  have  something  to  do  with  their  mindset  /  personality,  after  observing  the  mutations  &  eventual  unseemly  demises  of  several  other  B.O.W.s This  theory  is  supported  by  basically  EVERYTHING  in  the  canon.  Its  also  supported  by  the  fact  that  people  like  Steve  &  Manuela  simply  willed  themselves  not  to  succumb  to  the  virus.  Steve  was  able  to  completely  reverse  his  mutations  as  he  died  &  Manuela refused  to  let  them  happen  in  the  first  place,  having  been  disgusted  by  the  creatures  her  parents  became.  This  can  be  further  evidenced  in  the  mutations  of  Marcus,  Morpheus, Sergei, Alexia & Jack.  Sergei  & Jack  didn’t  really  “mutate”  until  they  were  good  &  ready & Marcus  showed  some  ability  to  return  to  his  “human”  form.  Alexia  was  similar.  She  was  able  to  mutate  at  will  &  seemed  to  be  able  to  reverse  her  mutations  at  will  as  well,  up  until  her  body  became  too  badly  damaged.  Even  William  showed  some  incredible  mental  strength  in  having  some  control  over  G  until  he  was  forced  into  conflicts  with  Claire  &  Leon. So  indeed,  canon  seems  to  suggest  that  infected  hosts  can  have  some  kind  of  “control”  over  how/when  they  mutate. & further  canon  suggests  that  the  viruses  are  kind  of  their  own  entities  in  ways. There  is  a  idea  that  they  have  their  own  type  of  consciousness  so  a  lot  of  the  infected  hosts  “personalities”  are  tainted  by  this.  The  severity  of  this  depends  on  virus  to  virus,  but  all  seem  to  have  an  effect  on  the  mind  /  actions  of  their  hosts.  Wesker  personally  describes  it  as  being  driven  by  pure  hatred.  The  other  B.O.W.s  we  know  of,  regardless  to  whether  they’ve  kept  their  intelligence  or  not,  show  similar  states  of  mind.  Alexia,  Marcus  &  Morpheus  are  absolutely  driven  beyond  what  I  would  call  “human”  logic   to  hunt  & kill  the  protagonists.  This  was  kinda  shown  with  G  as  well  as  even  after  G  consumed  William  entirely  &  there  was  no  William  holding  it  back,  even  after  it  parasitize  Sherry,  etc,  G  continued  to  pursue  Claire  &  Leon  even  after  it  had  lost  any  need  to  do  so. Though  it  might  just  be  bad  writing  on  canon’s  behalf,  it  seems  that  Wesker’s  powers  were  on  the  steady  increase  ever  since  he  became  infected.  This  makes  sense  for  the  virus  to  keep  getting  stronger  as  it  adapts  to  his  body  &  Wesker  lived  consciously  with  the  virus  for  the  longest  of  all  known  canon  hosts  ━  but  as  an  invading  force  who's  intentions  were  to  shape  Wesker  to  its  own  design &  means,  Wesker’s  human  form  could  very  well  start  to  hinder  what  the  virus  inside  him  would  have  considered  an  optimal  shape  to  support  its  predatory  nature.
Essentially  Wesker  didn’t  want  to  mutate,  he  didn’t  want  to  risk  losing  control  of  his  body &  becoming  nothing  but  a  slave  to  the  virus.  He  wanted  to  remain  something  that  resembled  a  human,  not  become  like  William,  Sergei,  Alexia  or  Marcus,  who  all  became  grotesque  creatures  which  basically  spelt  their  loss  of  control  & death.  There  was  nothing  beautiful  or  divine  in  that.  Even  in  his  moments  of  pure  desperation  it  seems  Wesker  was  able  to  hold  off  mutating.  Even  when  infected  with  uroboros  his  mutations  were  relatively  minor  in  comparison  to  other  infected  hosts. Theres  a  fun  sense  of  irony  in  the  idea  that  Wesker,  a  man  who  wasn’t  really  shy  about  his  supreme  hatred  of  humanity,  desperately  clung  to  what  was  left  of  his  after  his  infection,  which  is  really  heavily  implied  by  canon  outside  of  this  as  well. So  why  DID  the  virus  do  all  that  if  Wesker  &  other’s  were  “Compatible”.  Why  were  the  “god-kings”  of  the  Ndipaya  not  described  to  suffer  similar  fates ?  Well  we  could  def  put  that  down  to  the  fact  that  its  possible  that  only  scraps  of  the  Ndipaya’s  knowledge  was  uncovered, & perhaps  that  was  the  case  in  some  ways.  Its  HIGHLY  possible  that  the  few  mutated  creatures  that  eventually  lead  to  the  downfall  of  the  Ndipaya’s  civilisation  were  some  of  the  former  god-kings  who  had  lost  their  humanity  to  infection  eventually ? I  also  think  a  contending   theory  would  be  that  all  of  the  viruses  we  see  infect  characters  in  canon  are  NOT  in  their  pure  /  natural  form.  They  were  all  man  made,  all  corrupted  & bastardised  with  the  evilest  of  intentions.   All  of  these  designer  viruses  were  made,  specifically,  with  largely  evil  intentions.  They  had  evil  beginnings.  We  never  see  anyone  infected  with  the  pure  progenitor  strain  that  was  used  to  choose  the  Ndipaya’s  kings.  Most  of  the  viruses  in  the  hands  of  Umbrella  were  made specially  to  kill.  This  could  explain  why  all  the  viruses  have  such  “demonic”  natures,  outside  of  a  viruses  typical  need  to  ‘spread’  &  why  that  need  to  spread  never  really  seemed  to  halt  even  when  properly  bonded  with  a  host..  Moreover  a  majority  of  them  were  not  really  infecting  the  best  people,  emphasising  this. If  the  “mindset”  of  a  host  was  important  to  mutation  it  could  be  said  that  anyone  who  is  less  than  “pure”  of  heart  could  suffer  from  mutations  essentially  making  their  evil  inside  match  the  outside.  This  could  have  just  been  an  inherit  trait  to  the  progenitor,  meaning  even  the  pure-form  of  myth  could  cause  hosts  to  devolve  if  they  allowed  themselves  to  “become  corrupted.” But  those  are  all  really  just  theories  & thoughts.  For  Wesker,  he  def  fought  right  until  his  end  to  keep  the  traces  of  humanity  he  was  left  with,  even  if  only  in  shape  &  not  in  heart  or  mind  &  thats  how  I’m  explaining  that  for  now.   [ From  here ] 
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autismnation · 2 years
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eddie munson hcs
he has adhd and autism
he wears eyeliner
he's transgender/ftm (his pronouns are he/they/vamp/it) and gay (mlm)
he paints his nails black
he has like a whole colony of stray cats that hang around his trailer because he keeps feeding them. he's named every single one and he sometimes lets them inside when his uncle's not there (wayne has zero idea this is happening). he also once saw a raccoon and tried to bring it into his cat colony but it hissed at him so he got scared and abandoned that idea
His uncle collects mugs so he gives one to him every birthday and that's why there's so many mugs hung up in his trailer
Eddie's fave type of stimming is oral stimming and he chews on literally anything, usually his fingers or lips, Steve's hand or his shirt. Steve bought him a bunch of chewellery. He also chews on his hair a lot and thats why he had it buzzed when he was younger
He struggled with severe depression and anxiety when he was younger because of the bullying and because didn't have much of a support system (only his uncle). He still struggles with it in present day but because he has more of a support system with his friends, it's a bit better
When he was at rock bottom, he used stealing as a coping mechanism (it made him believe he had control of his life when he successfully stole something) and he developed kleptomania. Somehow he never got caught by the police. His uncle found out though and helped him create better coping mechanisms
He's sooo clumsy it's actually a bit crazy. Like he trips over thin air. He's stupid though (affectionate) and doesn't care for any of his injuries so his friends always carry bandaids for him.
He also age regresses. Steve is his caregiver. Robin age regresses too so they hang out a lot
He hates the doctors because...obviously. Like why would he want this random person poking and prodding him with cold hands and when he goes it's like ??? What's gonna happen? ITS SCARY. Also what if he goes and they're like "oh you gotta have surgery" or something? It's terrifying. (I'm 100% projecting btw /lh)
I'm 100% projecting here too but he is terrified of getting blood taken because when he was a kid he got blood taken but  the doctor didn't do it properly and he got a massive bruise for weeks ://
He has really weird sleeping habits. Like he can sleep anywhere in any position like it's actually really bad though because his body always hurts because of it. He also murmurs and talks a lot in his sleep (nonsensical stuff) and often forgets to change into sleeping clothes. He does that thing where you put your laundry on your bed so you put it away but it just doesn't work cuz he just sleeps on the pile
He used to wet the bed as a kid for quite a while, like until he was 15 or something, but it started again after the Vecna stuff.
He also struggles with realising when he's hungry. He can only tell when he's starving. Like when you're so hungry you have no energy to get food to eat. Because of this, he struggles on non-school days because he doesn't have a set time to eat so he snacks a lot on weekends
He struggles with knowing when he has a full bladder too. Like he doesn't pee himself but he doesn't ever think "hey maybe I feel really uncomfortable bc I need to pee". Idk how to explain it. I'm projecting so if you know what I mean you know.
He struggles with the texture of a  lot of foods so he mostly eats peanut butter sandwiches or chicken nuggets. Yeah, he doesn't have the healthiest diet ever....
His first tattoo was a really shitty stick n poke. He covered it up with his bat tattoo
He also wants a Corroded Coffin tattoo but he wants it to be perfect so he's still deciding on the design
He can't understand when other people use sarcasm yet loves using sarcasm himself
Loves wearing rings bc fashion but as soon as he's on his own he takes them off bc of sensory issues
He flaps his hands and kicks his legs to stim. He also scrunches his face up. The first time he did it, Steve was worried bc it looked like he was in pain but nah, Eddie was living his best life
He got nicknamed freak bc autistic + adhd + trans + gay but also because he had a meltdown in class because of overstimulation (lights were too bright and everyone was talking too loud)
Eddie and Robin stim by smacking each other's hands (credit to corrodedcoffinkid & autisticmunson)
He's a really loud crier. He yells when he cries
he's a theatre kid. i think he likes naturalism the most bc he's a very good actor but he usually gets pushed into comedic relief roles (bc ppl want to laugh at him ://). but he’s also really good with physical theatre elements because he’s so creative that he comes up with ideas instantly. sadly he usually gets roles with little to no lines. he doesn't mind all that much because less time rehearsing means more time to spend on d&d and with his friends etc.
I think he would be EXCELLENT in a sad scene because of the aforementioned depression and the one time he actually gets a big role everyone is just fckin blown away by how great he is.
100% is the type to rehearse a really sad scene and then afterward crack the stupidest joke ever with tears still streaming down his face
he has a bridge piercing, septum piercing and snake bites. he also has his ears pierced but rarely wears then. he's thought about stretching his ears but decided against it bc he 100% knows he'll be impatient and rush it and rip his earlobes off LMAO
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iamjackstitanicbreath · 5 months
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Favs of '23: Marvel:
10/10. That's it. That's the rating. Give it a Michelin or five if I could. My standards can't get higher now. I think this might be the best I've ever read. Winter Soldier origin story. No ships like Stucky or anything. Very dark, very cold, very very real. It's really a talent to be able to write a whole story in five chapters.
"Between the fall and the monsters, the Winter Soldier is in orbit. This is what happens in the Red Room. These are the people who make him what and who he becomes.
Inspired by comics canon, in particular Ed Brubaker's Captain America issue 11, which included pages from the Winter Soldier file, and far too many Cold War books. Because HYDRA in the movie uses the Winter Soldier as a blunt instrument, and blunt instruments do not become legends."
This could also be a 10/10 on its own but I put it in the same list as the first one so I have to lower it by a notch or two. It's like putting Joaquin Phoenix and Brad Pitt in the same room and labelling it 'Greatest Actors'. They're great, but on different levels. Anyway, this one's got amazing dialogue. Very in character. It's entertaining, but it's also a tragic comedy one-shot. It's fun and has a nice ending. For you Irondad and Spiderson lovers ig. But it's good. Well written. Superficially hilarious, but the actual message is kinda depressing but deep. Sums up Peter's college life pretty well if Tony were in the picture. It's the Goldilocks ratio of Raimi's Spider-Man, TASM, and MCU Spidey.
9/10. I read it a while ago, so I don't have much to say, but the writing is just beautiful. TW: relationship abuse. Skip Westcott.
But it's amazingly written and it's seen through the eyes of Steve. Like author's a genius with words. Check out their Batman stuff too 'cause it's just so so good. Good stuff. Like lick your fingers after eating kind of good.
Anyways, moving on.
Star Wars
9/10. Pretty sure everyone's read this one by now but same author, Beth Winter, so I had to give an honourable mention. I remember thoroughly enjoying this one and wishing we got to see more engineer Darth Vader and corporate environment in the Galactic Empire with Vader at the head 'cause I mostly only these kinds of stories in the comics and even then, not enough. I mean, for chrissake, it's a fundamental aspect of his character. I've seen some other ones with like Vader finding Luke through some sort of design submission or email and Luke's an aspiring Engineer from Tatooine but I'd give them like a 4/10. I have a very picky and very particular standard for writing though, and Beth Winter just writes very well. Same for the Gruoch fellow. I know I liked this one the most of all the Star Wars fics, but nothing hits the same as a Marvel Cold War fic so that's remaining at the top.
7/10. Started off so so so so good. Would've given a 10/10 if not for the ending. It's a series. Read both parts. Very very good. It's very beautifully written and it takes a very unique inspiration from the book A Secret Garden. It was a really clever combination and What If? so I love it. But I'm not the biggest fan of that abrupt ending. Anyways, SPOILERS AHEAD:
I feel like giving a character the possibility of redemption throughout and showing the more humane side and still at the very end judging them as too evil to live? Idk, I mean, it feels sudden. Like you feel me? The story was continuously leading to the possibility of a happy ending or at least something along the lines of a compromise. And then suddenly author basically said "actually Vader's an unredeemable piece of shit, so let's just kill him off. I know I made it seem like he had a good side and that there was a future where he could be a very good parent, but I changed my mind." Anyways, it's fanfiction. Can't be too critical. Nobody's getting paid to write this stuff so I'm not going to bash it too much for inconsistency, but it did feel like the story was desperately trying to show at first that the situation isn't so black and white, but then resorted to viewing it through a black and white lens at the end. Went from no such thing as "absolutes" to well, absolutes.
Ok, I'm done rambling. You get the picture. Next!
Harry Potter
Heed the warnings. 8/10. The writing's very good and the plot hooks you in immediately. But heed the warnings. Not for the faint of heart ig. Also covers sensitive topics. I'm kinda iffy about putting this on the same list as a Beth WInter fic but maybe I'm being overdramatic. It's not artsy is what I mean to say. Author didn't intend for it so come across as a poem. But the writing's still very very good and the plot is even better. UNFINISHED. I'm angrily waiting for an update. Like stalk author's tumblr waiting. Maybe that's why I'm being so petty with the rating and review.
Code Geass
Anything by this author:
Favorites are The Fool Ascendant and The House of Usher. 10/10, both. Haven't read all of them, but also, writing style is very artsy. Character and dynamic studies mostly, and snippets of things we didn't see in canon.
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nlphcbin14 · 10 months
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SURREAL
Definition
The adjective "surreal" is defined by Merriam-Webster as "marked by the intense irrational reality of a dream" or "unbelievable." More directly, it could be understood as something very strange; more like a dream than reality, with ideas and images mixed together in a strange way
Examples and Inspirations:
Punch-Drunk Love - Paul Thomas Anderson
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The excellent picture by Paul Thomas Anderson beautifully conveys the word "surreal" by its truest meaning. The imagery of a man in a blue suit walking around places the entire film is so strange and quirky, the dreamy lighting and the soundtrack all combine together to create a mesmerizing atmosphere to the film. As a result, the surreal feeling is so pervasive in this context that the addition of a love story enhances the effect, giving the film a more dreamlike aesthetic.
Dreams - Akira Kurosawa
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The movie's title pretty much speaks for itself, but I'll still go into more detail. Being an anthology of stories or in the context of the film: dreams that the director himself has experienced in the past, the bizarre aspects are relevant from the first frame of the movie, making it one of my favorite films as well. The word "surreal" was always present in my mind the first time I watched it. On the director's blank canvas, the costume design, the sets, the locations, the choreography in some sequences, and the cinematography come together to create the most vivid and colorful movie I've ever seen, almost like a painting. Given that I share the director's cultural background as an Asian, the inclusion of some religious elements in the movie gives the surreal events a sense of personal connection for me, though it may be off-putting to others.
One Piece - Eiichiro Oda
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In terms of originality and surrealism, the world and character design from the manga One Piece by the renowned mangaka Eiichiro Oda are, in my opinion, the best in the business. As you can see above with his designs for some islands and characters in the story, Oda is a highly imaginative author. The design, which is still cartoonish and is set in a sea-based fantasy world full of pirates, was initially quite straightforward as you can see with the main character Luffy. As the plot developed, more and more absurd elements were added, but it was clear that these elements were inspired by aspects of everyday life, such as the scientist character who is based on Albert Einstein. I believe that Oda has successfully incorporated "surrealism" into his story with that stark contrast to the absurdity of the world he created and the inspiration that he draw from the real world.
The Story of the Moving Image - ACMI Museum
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I recently visited a fantastic moving image history exhibition here in Melbourne, and it was amazing. For reasons I'll explain below, the experience was for me a mix of the mesmerizing and the surreal. Being able to see all the various pieces of gear and the various filmmaking processes in action before my very eyes as a movie enthusiast was astounding. I had the impression I was walking in a time capsule of all the greatest cinemas when I was touring the exhibition, it was almost transparent and surreal to learn about some of the lighting techniques and real-life stop-motion animation used to create the magic on screen; in some ways, this incredible exhibition made me feel like I was actually in a movie. The exhibition's design, which divided each section into time periods, was clever. Additionally, the moody lighting that permeated the space enhanced the surreal elements of the setting.
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou - Wes Anderson
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Wes Anderson is renowned for his highly stylized films, in which everything is both simultaneously realistic and fantastical, while what appears on screen seems to belong in a grounded reality, Anderson's vision gives the viewer the uncanny impression that there are abstract elements that can't possibly be real. For this example, I will talk about a personal favorite of mine from his: "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou". Because of the flatness of the images and the vibrant colors he uses in the sets and costumes, Anderson's visual style is frequently compared to a storybook. In the case of Steve Zissou, the iconic imagery of the red beanie in contrast with the light blue suit, the large set of a cruise ship, and the cinematography all ensuite with style and surrealism. While other directors strive to make their movies as seamless and true to life as possible, Anderson fully embraces the craft of filmmaking and lets the audience see how it's done, which distinguishes him as such a singular voice in contemporary cinema.
Nightcall - Kavinsky
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The Nicolas Winding Refn-directed movie Drive, which stars Ryan Gosling and Carey Mulligan, featured this song during the title sequence. The song's Synthwave subgenre was primarily inspired by the music featured on the 1980s soundtracks for action, science-fiction, and horror movies. Consequently, it also explains the surrealistic feeling I experienced while listening to this song with its electronic vocal, intense beats, and sound wave. Drive's soundtrack did an excellent job of conveying the film's gloom and gloom; the main character experienced an unmatched sense of mystery as a result of the song, despite the realistic setting. Surrealism was unquestionably a major element of both the song and the movie, in my opinion, because of that combination up front.
Hanoi's Old Quarter
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Hanoi's Old Quarter is well-known for its many attractions, delectable cuisine, exciting nightlife, and distinctive handicrafts. The city's ups and downs are evident in this downtown area. Since this blog is my opinion, I figure why not pay homage to my hometown here since something about Vietnam, or more specifically Hanoi, still has such a profound impact on me, and the walk through the Old Quarter was truly fantastical, despite the fact that I've traveled to many other countries. To the west and north of Hoan Kiem Lake is where you'll find the Old Quarter of Hanoi. The sensation of exploring a location where at least 36 trade guilds have operated since the fifteenth century was magical, just like with the exhibition I mentioned above, this also feels like a time capsule. Just the thought of something still standing to this day existing since the 15th century was mind-blowing enough, let alone I can walk through it every day for the last 20 years was truly surreal.
Switzerland - 2022 Trip
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I got the chance to visit Switzerland last year and that would hand down be one of my favorite trips ever. The landscape in Switzerland was absolutely breathtaking and it was also the first time I got to see snow which brings the surreal aspect of the trip from a ten to an eleven. I am transported to another dimension by the mountain, snow, lake, ocean, and the clearest blue sky I have ever seen; it is truly a dream come true.
Van Gough's Works
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Vincent Van Gough's masterpieces, which I had the opportunity to see at the Rebut Exhibition in Rome, undoubtedly achieve the adjective "surreal" through their distinct artistic elements. Van Gough's emotional intensity and vibrant use of color have created a transcendent and dream-like experience for the viewer. I was amazed by the way he offered a glimpse into a world where dreams and reality intertwine seamlessly. The exhibition in Rome allowed me to immerse myself in the surreal world of van Gogh's painting, where the ordinary transformed into the extraordinary.
Avatar: The Way of Water - James Cameron
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From a technical standpoint, James Cameron's work in The Way of Water was unmatched and innovative, just like in the original film back in 2009. Ironically, James created a fantasy world that was so fantastical and out of this world in order to achieve the most realistic water effect ever captured on film with the help of flawless CGI and motion capture. The most hypnotic theatre experience, especially in IMAX, was created by the fantastical landscape, the fictional Na'vi people flying around the realistic water, and the various strange animals. The combination of practical effect and CGI mixed together strangely stands true to the definition of surreal.
With all those examples, I believe that the word "surreal" can refer to more than just its dictionary definition; it can also refer to an emotional experience, such as a memento.
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