#i’ve just been out of the loop a bit in the community

[grimesgirll]

alexandria is the break you've been yearning for since shit hit the fan.

an independent walled and gated community is exactly the place to catch your breath. the past eighteen months had been a blur of grit and gore; you deserve to decompress in a pretty house, not that you spent all of your time in your new settlement inside. you made a point to take judith on daily walks.

you're returning from one of your new routine walks to get judith down for her afternoon nap when you find olivia - the neighbor lady who ran the armory and the pantry - on the porch, greeting your name.

“hi,” you reply with a smile, bolstering the cooing baby on your hip. “what do i owe you the pleasure, olivia?”

“i’ve been meaning to get over here ever since shane brought it up to me-,” you pause. “-i wouldn’t mind having another set of hands around the armory at all, especially with the background shane mentioned you had.”

you purse your lips. “thanks. could we talk about this another time? maybe after the weekend? i’ll stop by.” you gesture to the little girl on your hip. “it’s just that i want to get her down now so her routine isn’t all out of whack later tonight.”

olivia nods, glasses bouncing a bit. “of course. come see me whenever you’re ready.”

you’re smiling and thanking her again before crossing the threshold with a huffy chest. it takes patience on your part not to slam the door but with judith in your arms, you slowly close it.

why would shane sign you up to work in the armory? is he stupid? you ponder. he didn’t even ask if you wanted to do something like that. you dismiss the thought the best you can and just focus on getting judith to sleep.

thank god for the blackout curtains jessie had sent over. judith sleeps like the dead with those things drawn.

a little rocking and the dark room do well to help the infant fall asleep in no time. that allows you to meander down the living room and hear the door swinging open.

"babe, we're back.”

you perk your head up when you see shane and rick come through the door. “hey, guys,” you forget to ask them how their day’s been when you see their new uniforms.

you have to pick up your jaw when you see the two men dressed in matching constable’s uniforms. you and shane hadn’t been dating for long when the world went to shit. he’d met you right after work before, even picked you up in the cruiser before but you forgot how strapping he looked in a uniform. brown and form fitting, you’re thanking the constable’s office inventory for stocking such flattering apparel.

you almost forget the frustration you’re harboring - the anger that had boiled, all because of how his ass looked in those brown fucking slacks.

“good to see you,” rick says with the same tone he had back on the side of the road when he helped you step back into your underwear.

“good to see you too,” you repeat, biting your lip.

a smirk appears on shane’s lips once he realizes you’re checking out their asses as you take their coats.

"why don't you head upstairs? we'll be up in a few minutes."

you nearly drop the jackets from your arms. “for what?” you ask, playing dumb.

rick is wordless and shane just smiles at you, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “you’ll see. we’ll see you soon enough.”

the bedroom is your next destination.

you’re tiptoeing up the stairs as not to disrupt nap time. those light treading feet are carrying you straight to the bed where you crumple into the comforter.

long was your day, longer would be your night. this is by virtue of the fact that you’ll have to ask shane about why olivia was about to onboard you to work in alexandria’s armory. and you’ll probably get split in half by an eight inch cock by the end of the night. you decide to put off your conversation with shane when your mind wanders to the newly clean shaven constable downstairs.

god, did he fit those pants wonderfully.

the man had been on your mind ever since this situationship of sorts emerged between the three of you - sans labels. awkward as it seemed, given all of your histories.

and then there’s shane.

don’t get you wrong, shane would give you the world if he could. whatever it would take to keep you nice and happy and purring “yes, shane” at his every word. he goes to greater lengths not just for your safety but for your convenience.

the man who’d circled back on a run after realizing he didn’t bring back your favorite brand of tampons. then again when the tampons be found had cardboard applicators. the one who held you at night in your shared cell back at the prison, kissed you and petted your hair, nuzzling as close as possible and telling you it would be alright. the man who trusted you to take care of his baby girl.

the one who had taken the time to give you not one but multiple masterclasses on firearms, shooting, and gun maintenance. he insisted that you know how to take care of yourself if it ever came down to and it boy, had it come down to it. more than once, you’d found yourself aiming your pistol and being forced to make a split second decision. the same man embraced you and reassured you in the aftermath of your beretta’s rounds claiming your first non-walker kill.

the man who’s about to fuck you into the mattress with his best friend.

you try to hold onto that thought as you shimmy out of the blue levi’s, deserting them on the floor thoughtlessly in search something cozier. digging through shane’s newly filled dresser drawers seems like an easy enough solution.

speak of the devil, he walks in with rick while you’re appraising a pair of gray sweatpants with a georgetown insignia on them.

“thought you had your own sweats.” shane’s behind you in an instant. just like rick, he’d noticed the way your sweatshirt falls to your thighs. “why don’t you just save those for later and let me help you take the rest off, huh?”

a telltale smirk takes over your face. a slant back into shane tells him all he needs to know.

he waits to toss you over his shoulder and situate you on the bed before he's yanking your boy briefs down your legs and brushing your clit with his fat finger. it's only natural that he's chuckling into your skin when you tense beneath him. prodding and playing with your newly awakened nerves, shane still managed to signal rick over to begin a maddening campaign, attacking your flush skin with their lips.

the lips on your that skin feel so deliciously inviting that you disregard how tender they turn you.

of course, shane is the one that can’t stand to wait.

“down you go, pretty girl.”

in an instant, he’s behind you with a finger in your pussy. you want to be upset that he's not still paying attention to the blushed out surface of your body but you’re too preoccupied with the hand in between your shoulder blades, encouraging your forearms down to the mattress. shane’s maintaining his grip on your hips and propping them up to send your ass straight towards the ceiling.

the moment that you feel a warm tongue, licking painfully slowly, and thoroughly towards your center, your hips jerk. shane is already bracing them, cooing, “easy, girl,” into your thigh before continuing the languid assault on your lips.

the lips on your face are pecked, if only briefly, by your boyfriend’s former crimefighting partner. licking your lips, you’re wishing he would circle back to connect your mouths again when a sharp sting interrupts your thoughts.

“fuck!” you cry into the comforter.

the obvious culprit is already testing the skin of your ass with his palm again. another yelp has blue eyes boring down, as if trying to memorize each moment you react - so expressively - to shane’s ministrations.

“what was that for?” you question, rotating your head to stealth a glance at him.

“fun.”

you’re about to tell shane about his idea of fun before a final slap and a sudden return to teasing your core spurs you away from the thought. pressure and heat course through you; shane just raises your internal temperature with a purposeful finger. you're whimpering at just the first stretch. past your throbbing rings of muscle, shane weaves a path with a single finger.

a heaved out moan has shane licking his lips. “gettin’ worked up off my fingers, baby?”

you nod. without a doubt.

another finger continues the mission of prying your tight cunt open for the men that would be taking turns with you until you’d come all over both their cocks. knuckle deep inside of you, the pressure is going to kill you before that third finger does.

“shane,” you’re hissing when he adopts a pace that has you clawing at his two fingers. “why are you being so aggressive with your fingers?”

“weren’t you complainin’ that it was ‘too much,’” he denotes with air quotes, “last time?”

rick seems to give you some breathing room at his friend’s taunt. he slinks back like his massive cock wasn’t the reason you’d been a sobbing mess in cowgirl on top of him the night before your group had reached noah’s old community in richmond.

you’d come so pornographically hard around him that you swear it’d been in your top five orgasms. but your cervix was still shot.

rick felt guilty. so guilty that he hasn’t fucked you since. only your mouth. of course he treated you to his mouth, his perfect tongue and his hands but you crave him inside of you. the thought of it with shane’s two pronged touch has you nearly grinding up the bed.

“fuck, shane,” you’re mumbling into the comforter, fists clenching when another finger worms into you.

“you ‘bout ready, baby?” shane asks, placing a strategic stripe down your clit as he fully buries his middle three fingers in you.

“mhmm.”

“wanna ask?”

a steady sentence isn’t going to come out of your mouth with how shane’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “please,” you sputter when he entrenches his fingers deeper inside of you.

“what was that?” the condescension in his voice has you squelching around his fast moving fingers.

you’re blushing at rick who has a hand on his cock and is staring straight into your teary eyes. “i want you to fuck me now, shane.” you don’t break eye contact with rick. “please.”

another smack lands on your reddening backside and suddenly those pleasure granting fingers are digging into your hip and you feel shane’s girth at your entrance.

“what do you want, baby?” shane asks. “you want me to fill you up?”

“yes, i want it so bad,” you’re begging through pouted lips.

rick doesn’t miss your doe eyes or how you moan shane’s name as he fulfills your fucked out request and fills you. even someone in the hallway can hear the wet sound from shane teasing your leaking cunt.

a few experimental strokes and shane is already balls deep. he didn’t heed the same new code of chivalry rick had adopted upon finding a hint of blood on the tip of his dick. that experience made you want to pull your hair out. stupid fucking cervix, you’d thought, ruining me getting fucked. rick didn’t usually treat you to such a pounding but the road did that to one. besides, he was freshly addicted to your cunt.

the electric feeling from how he’d taken you with shane that first time reignite as your boyfriend adjusts himself to brush against your g-spot. the fucked out look on your face can’t be missed as you let shane shovel his hips into you and closer to the only finish line you’d ever had no problem crossing. just like rick had plowed you into the mattress of the barracks you’d all stayed at in norfolk.

these thoughts of rick can’t escape you - even with shane groaning your name. the swats to your ass just go straight to your cunt and do little to rouse you from your daydreaming about the man lining himself up with your mouth.

yeah, you’re out of your mind already and he doesn’t even have his dick inside of you again.

“so good for me, baby,” shane’s gasping, his hand sliding down your ass to brace your thigh and fuck you deeper. “so good for us.”

rick nods, fingers pushing your hair out of your face and letting you take your time with him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and rock forward with shane when he cants into you. he’s gazing down at you as if this is the prettiest he’s ever seen you.

you could keep your eyes on him forever if it weren’t for the orgasm searing through you. it’d built up as you backed into shane and imagined how full rick would have you feeling - how connected, how close you’d feel with him inside of you.

“should’ve knocked you up back at the farm.”

god, that would’ve been inconvenient. you just focus on the pleasure you’re receiving and how you’re in alexandria with two men amazingly attractive men. it’s not the time but then again, shane doesn’t give you much of a choice with how revved up this whole coming in you business seems to be getting him. you can’t lie; it’s affecting you too.

so much that you’re nearly protesting when rick withdraws his twitching cock from between your lush lips, less than when shane pulls out of you. you won’t be protesting about what comes next though.

the first time rick had fucked your pussy you’d been whining, and you’re doing the same thing now.

“you wanna get on top?” shane questions, requiring you to repeat yourself before rick leans against the headboard.

still snickering at the whine that came out of you, your boyfriend helps to lift you and lower your hips onto rick who’s sprawled on his back, bronzed curls against the propped up pillow. rick hisses when his tip makes contact with your drowning heat again.

shane doesn’t waste any time. his hands are off you so he can situate himself on the bed to accommodate the best view of you two.

unfortunately, you’re not in shane’s lap so rick has him beat for the best seat in the house. or do you hold that seat?

your boyfriend hadn’t seemed too worried about you sliding too far down onto rick but rick was. his hands are firm on your hips - holding them in a semi-permanent place, only maneuvering for you as you rotate your hips down onto him.

“rick,” you rasp, wrapping your arms around his neck. you want to hear more from him so badly - to hear him panting your name. that’s your goal when you hurry your hips against him. you can tell that he’s hesitating, holding you back at first until you wiggle enough for him to allow you to break free.

grinding onto him, you watch a puffed out series of breaths escape his mouth. not missing a beat, you reposition your hips to sink deeper, hissing with rick and leaning into him. that’s when your clit begins to explode with pleasure from the friction.

“fuck,” you’re chanting. “fuck, that’s good. feels so good. fuck. fuck, that’s perfect.”

“dirty girl.” shane is teasing.

“just feels so fuckin’ good,” you’re twisting on top of rick, angling yourself against his pulsing member to stimulate all the perfect parts of your pelvis.

“is rick fucking you good, honey?”

you nod, having been given full license to be honest about how rick is making you gush.

“how good?” shane asks, hazel eyes on you while you ride rick.

your lip quivers. you feel rick thrum inside of you. “soooo good.” you’re saying in the lust addled way only you would. “you both make me feel so on.”

shane’s cock jumps and rick is picking up the pace. whatever motion your clit’s endured against rick is nothing once he crescents his fingertips into your sides. nice and deep, rick is threatening your cervix again but you don’t need to worry because he’s just taking the scenic route to your g-spot.

the same spot that’s making your toes curl and you chant for rick. “i’m close again,” you warn him. your head is falling onto his shoulder, blocking shane from view.

“you’ve got it, almost there, sweetheart,” rick rumbles into your ear.

his now gravelly voice against your ear has your cunt tightening. teeth pressed into your shoulder, you yelp and moan when rick brushes the flesh of your skin with his teeth. the purple marks being sown onto you will bloom later on but you don’t mind. not when your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering, “god, rick, you make me feel so fucking good.”

and suddenly you’re being fucked through your orgasm face down.

“so jessie cut your hair?”

rick nods and you’re hyper aware of how short his hair is. he’s so polished too. not that it’s terribly difficult to be after traveling on the road for so long.

“i liked your long hair. you should grow it out again.”

the new constable raises an eyebrow, leaning up on his forearms to sit up. “gotta’ shape up at some point.”

you would argue but shane’s distracting you with kisses to your shoulders and promises of morning sex already. you’re not distracted enough to miss rick’s weight absent from the pliable surface.

rick rises from the bed and you whine.

“i want rick to stay.”

shane scoffs. he extends his brawny arms across the bed. “baby, there’s barely enough room in the bed for the two of us.”

you shake your head, sitting up on your knees. “i think we can make it work. please,” you take a breath. “i just feel safer with you two in bed.”

“honey, there’s no room.”

“okay, i’ll just sleep on top of him then.”

you end up basically on top of rick - not that he minds. the night is spent with cuddled up into his chest; shane cupping the occasional hand around the curve of your ass.

weirdly, you’re falling asleep in no time. the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulls you. sleeping on top of rick might have to become a part of your bedtime routine.

shane wants you to pull a hostile takeover of the armory.

you stand with your arms crossed, giving the man one of your signature frowns. "why would i want to keep an eye on olivia in the armory?"

shane looks at you as if it's obvious. "it's good to have a hand on things," he explains, sighing your name. "it's good to have someone on the inside, in case..."

"-in case what?" you question.

shane stares at his feet.

you smolder. "you seriously can't be expecting to have to seize their guns, shane. we just got here for christ's sake."

"it's not even like that, baby," shane says, trying to walk back his conspiracy plots from you. “i just would feel better having you there. besides, it’s not like it’d be all the time and you could learn more about gun storage, whatever you want now

“that doesn’t sound like whatever i want, it sounds like you’re shoving me in the armory.”

“baby, you don’t have to do anything, i’m just sayin’-,”

“i’ll work in the armory if you stop giving me shit about going hunting.”

shane frowns af you. “now, you know that’s different.”

you cross your arms. “it’s not. i need a change of scenery, maybe some greenery to be specific.”

shane presses a flexed hand against the wainscoting he’s leaned up against. he shakes his head. “maybe once we know things are stable here, but for right now these people are far less capable than we are. i’d feel better with you in the armory.”

you want to ask him to consider what you want for a change. you honestly want to tell him to go fuck himself but then you remember.

ah, the thing that you want. the man that you want. the man you can only have with shane’s smirking approval.

so you just smile, walk over and take him by surprise, planting a kiss on cheek and telling him you’ll start tomorrow. it’ll all pay off in the long run.

the welcome party is a success.

if not for the fact that shane didn’t kill spencer just for saying hello to you, then for the fact that you got trashed.

so trashed that rick had ended up hauling your ass home when you hurled in one of deanna’s planters and shane was too embroiled in a push-up contest with abraham to even think about heading home. not that shane had ended up any better. the man drank so much johnny walker that even he came home and passed out face first in the bed bedside you.

you’re hungover the next morning, so hungover that rick moved you out of shane’s bed and into his to hang off the edge and puke your guts up.

rick even roped carol into coming over to cook and watch judith while you and shane recovered.

he even brings you soup.

“damn, look who’s still out of it.”

seems shane had recovered.

“she drinks like she’s still in kappa delta.”

rick rubs a circle or two into your back. “what’d you say? you won’t puke all over your bed, will ya’?”

when you’re well enough, you patter downstairs

“you’re looking better.”

“thanks, carol,” you return her jab with a wry smile.

“so,” the gray haired woman braces her hands on the picnic table at the base of the orchard. “are you going to help me with these apricots are what?” your gaze falls from the woman to her basket and circles back to the trees overhead. “the apricots came in early here. what do you think of apricots in march?”

you shrug. “i really don’t know much about fruits,” you admit as you take the chestnut colored basket into your hand.

it’s so odd seeing carol in her little pseudo-mr. rogers act, costume and all. the cardigan and capris paint a picture of the picture homemaker - a real martha stewart type.

and one of the most tactful, five steps ahead of you types that you’d ever met.

you wonder if this carol had laid dormant for some years.

the two of you work through the trees, plucking the precious fruit that was ready for harvest and leaving the rest.

“so, you having fun playing house?”

your mouth gapes open. you nearly drop your basket and waste quite a lot of apricots.

carol snorts at you. “i’m just kidding.” she sends you a look like you’re incredulous or something. “do what you want.” you pluck an apricot from the tree before you. gossamer head tilting when your apricot picking partner speaks again. “but just keep your priorities straight.”

you stiffen. that’s not what you were expecting. maybe some more sage or cunning advice is what you thought would be coming out of her mouth. priorities? you don’t wanna think about them. the priorities that you’ve been saddled with.

you moan someone about your hangover and muddle through the rest of your apricot picking, trying to keep your mind from defining your priorities.

the two of you part when at the sidewalk in front of your porch, with her last words to you being:

“you be careful.”

“gonna have to go out and find a king sized bed if rick’s gonna be stayin’ over this often.” shane comments and rolls onto his side to face you.

you shrug. “i’m fine with the arrangement the way it is.”

“yeah? sleeping on top of rick?”

you continue brushing your hair. “beds are hard to come by, especially great gigantic sized beds.”

“i’m sure there’s a king somewhere.”

“yeah.”

shane’s eyes don’t leave you as you set your hairbrush down on the vanity and tie it back. he’s even closer once you settle into your spot on the mattress. arms clutch you into him and lazy patterns begin to materialize on your skin, from massages into the nap of your neck to a dull squeeze of your ass. it makes you feel easy - subdued almost by shane’s unhurried touch. but you’re still wound up. you don’t know how you can be anything else nowadays.

"night, baby," shane mumbles into your ear.

"night." you reply, eyes focused on the single beam of moonlight tumbling through the window.

with rick down the hall, you won’t be sleeping tonight.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Yay request are open!!! How do we feel about a one shot where König constantly refers to the reader with German pert names without telling them what they mean? After a while they start to think König is making fun of them in German because whenever they confront him he gets all flustered. Maybe a fluffy ending where König confesses his feelings after the reader confronts him and asks what she did to make him make fun of her!

Ahhh this is so cute!! I love it!!! (tagging @konig-is-bbygrl bc könig is in fact bbygirl)

You were acting as a liaison between the 141 and KorTac in an attempt to get the two teams to cooperate on the field in the future. They chose you because you had good interpersonal skills, you followed orders well, and you met and exceeded expectations. That and you pulled the short straw. It was either that or send Ghost and that would’ve made matters worse, you love him but it’s the one department he lacks tact.

You were a little nervous, sure, but the team was pretty welcoming. Particularly the veiled giant, who you learned was König, he stuttered a bit at times and maybe spoke too fast when he got a little nervous or enthusiastic but you thought it was cute.

And then you’d get sent out together, and for a while you felt like you worked well together, communicated clearly and efficiently, and you were able to complete your missions with little to no incident. You’d fire off a joke or two over comms, exchange stories while waiting for evac in a safe house, you had a good thing going. But the more you got sent out together, the stranger his compliments became;

“Good shot, liebling.”

You laughed hesitantly at the compliment, it was a compliment, right?

“Keep your head low, schatz.”

You thanked him but the word turned over on your head over and over, was that an insult? It was at this moment you regretted taking French in college instead of German, you have yet to even see a French word in a context not involving food. When you met up at the RV point, the question has been sitting on your tongue for a while now, tainting the peaceful symbiosis you’ve created with König. You were in the safe house waiting for your next orders, he was sharpening his knives and you stood by the window. It was now or never.

“Hey, what do those words mean?” Your question cut the silence,

“Hm? Sorry?” He looked up at you from his seat at the table,

“It’s just, whenever you’ve told me something, you end the sentence with a word in German.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched his eyes widen for a split second before he quickly looked back down at the knife in his hands,

“Oh! Ah, well that, um, don’t worry about it, süße.” You’ve heard him stutter and occasionally trip on his words, but he was still direct with you. This was different, and it put a bad taste in your mouth. To add insult to injury, he’d used another word in German. He’s not… making fun of you, is he? It made your chest ache painfully, you suddenly felt like a fool for thinking you were actually getting along.

“Oh, ok, I guess.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the window. The tension was palpable, you felt like you were drowning. You shook your head, focus, dumbass. This isn’t the time for that. It wasn’t too long after that, thank god, you got your orders and went to your posts. It all kept running in loop, all your interactions, all your jokes, all the laughs, all the quiet moments together, was he just being nice? Is he getting fed up with you but he doesn’t know how to tell you and he’s just casually adding insults to every sentence?? No, come on, that’s ridiculous.

“I’ve marked two soldiers on your path, maus.”

Did he just fucking call me a mouse?

Petty bastard. You clenched your jaw, the dread settling in your gut had quickly turned into anger. As soon as you were finished here, you’d pack your bags and head back to your boys, but not without giving the giant asshole a piece of your mind (and Price but that’s beside the point). The thing is though, you couldn’t wait until you were back at base. As soon as the chaos had died down and you met back up at the safe house, you let him have it,

“Good work out there, liebling.” König praised as you walked into the safe house, that was the final straw. You threw your gear on the table and leveled him with a glare, heart racing, adrenaline pumping through your system,

“Ya know, you’ve got some nerve, König.”

Not good.

“This entire time, I thought we were getting along really well and I don’t know what happened or what I did… I mean, fuck for a moment I…” the words died in your mouth, too scared to breathe life into them because then this confrontation would hurt all the more. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves,

“If I did something wrong, I’d rather you tell me instead of insulting me in a language you know I don’t understand.”

Oh fuck.

“Insult you? Schatz, never, I- they’re not insults, I would never.” His heart was pounding in his ears, hands becoming sweaty, his veil suddenly too warm,

“Then what are you saying, König? What do the words mean?”

Oh fuck.

“I-I can’t say…” His eyes were darting everywhere but yours,

“Either you tell me right now, or this is the last time I’ll ever work with you.”

Fuck.

“It’s- they’re not- scheiße- they’re not insults, liebling, they’re-” he sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, “terms of endearment.” He said the last part so quietly, you almost didn’t hear him.

“Oh… well, that’s different. Why didn’t you say so when I asked the first time?” You walked to him, approaching him slowly, your tone significantly more gentle. His eyes flicked to yours for a split second before darting away again, and then it hit you. “Oh. I… think I understand now.”

But because König was so focused on looking away from you, he didn’t see the grin that split your face, or the blush that dusted your cheeks, or the beautiful sparkle in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, lieb- sergeant, it’s incredibly out of line and horrifically inappropriate, please try to put it out of your mind. I don’t know what I was thinking, I was so rude-”

“König, hey, please stop for just a second.” He didn’t realize you were right in front of him and almost died of the fright, lest his humiliation take him first. You stood up on the tips of your toes and held the sides of his face, angling him to look at you, giving him no room for escape,

“What if I don’t what to put it out of my mind?”

“Schatz, what are you saying?” His voice was trembling ever so slightly, his large hands coming up to encompass yours,

“I’m saying, maybe you can keep calling me terms of endearment because maybe I’d like to do the same for you.”

“Are you sure?” He was breathless, his heart was a booming thunderstorm in his chest as his hands so delicately took yours held them. His thumbs stroking over the knuckles, already committing every scar and every bump to memory. He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, lightheaded and dizzy in the most beautiful way possible.

“Never been more sure in my life.” Your smile was as blinding as the sun, and he’d never been more sure that everything in his life lead up to this exact moment. It didn’t matter that you were with the 141 and that eventually you had to go back, it didn’t matter that you were out in the field hunkered down in a safe house, nothing else mattered but you.

[pettypiastri]

my boyfriend's boyfriend

jamie drysdale x fem reader ft. trevor zegras

requested by @corneliaskates: "okay in light of these photos… I’m making you write jamie for me what about like moving in with him but like moving in with him also means moving in with trevor and… chaos ensues"

wc: 2.3k

warnings: blood in the context of undercooked food and also minor injury, reference to Jamie's shoulder injury and doctors offices, swearing, mention of drugs in a medical context, chaos, buffoonary

a/n: just some fun casual writing for a collection of scenes that i think you’d likely see upon moving into the zegras/drysdale household, pls enjoy the chaos! lots of this unhinged behavior we already knew about the 2 of them but a few details came from the recent "The Players Lounge" podcast episodes with jamie and trevor so go listen! (also would the homies wanna see me write for mason mctavish cause i really would love to do so)

Jamie stares blankly at the doctor as he continues to come to. He doesn’t hear the inquisition the doctor made. The first thought on his mind is the only thought he's had since he skated off the ice, his left shoulder in a dead hang: his season is over, there’s no way around it. 

“Mr. Drysdale?” The physician tries to get Jamie’s attention. 

“Yes, umm I’ll be there to help him. I’ve taken time off work.” Jamie turns his head slowly to look at you. He barely registers what you’ve said. He almost wants to ask you to repeat it but he knows he heard you right. The doctor shifts toward you, flipping through the aftercare instructions and various medications Jamie will have to take. You’re collected, attentive, and receptive all the while Jamie’s eyes bore into your profile, trying to understand. He’s still drowning in self-wallowing and frustration and now is trying to parse through the funny sort of feeling in his heart watching you prepare yourself to be a part time caretaker for him. Not only are you here right now, you’ve just admitted out loud, without any previous discussion between the two of you that you are not just willing but going to help him during his recovery?? He feels an intensity to communicate his love and appreciation for you that he’s not used to but ends up manifesting as,

“Will you move in with me?” The door to the exam room has just barely clicked shut from the doctor’s exit. Your spine is rod straight now from where you were previously collecting your purse and coat. Jamie’s always been a fiddler, twitching and messing with loose skin on his finger or the belt loop of your jeans, but now he sits perfectly still as he stares at you. 

“Where’s the big red button, I think they gave you too much of something bud.” Humor always serves as a great deflection tactic for you but Jamie won’t let you off the hook.

“No no, I’m serious. Do you want to move in with me?” Your expression remains slightly standoffish as you draw closer to the bed. As you prop yourself on the hospital bed, you notice his eyes are inviting, stoic: a safe place to land. Lazy fingers reach to soothe Jamie’s uninjured arm. 

“Would you have asked me if you hadn’t torn your shoulder?” Jamie’s nod is emphatic. 

“Yes, it probably just would’ve taken me a bit longer to ask. You still make me nervous-- but like in a good way, in a good way.” Jamie stumbling over his words endears you like nothing else. “I kind of hate being without you, not in a weird codependent way, I just really like who I am when you’re around.” 

Your mind is already made up after Jamie’s unbridled honesty but you still have to ask,

“Shouldn’t you run this by Trev first maybe?” He is a member of the household, though not much of a contributing one. To sell his conviction, Jamie’s eyes don’t leave yours as he reaches for his phone in the back pocket of the jeans he thinks he’s wearing. He gets an awful fright meeting bare skin under the hospital gown. Creasing at the waist with laughter doesn’t hinder you too much as you dig for his phone in your purse. He takes it sheepishly from your grasp. As he dials Trevor’s number, you urge him to put it on speaker phone.

“Jimmy! How high are you, man??”

“Z, Y/N’s gonna move in with us.”

“I thought she already lived here?”

—

Since the moment of Jamie’s injury you’ve been practically inseparable. Surgeon consultations, post op, helping him dress, cooking for him, you’ve truly been there for it all for Jamie. Now that he’s several months post op and regained most all of his range of motion, he’s been eager to pick up some slack. 

“Are they closed?” 

“Jamie my love, yes. I’ve literally had them closed every time you’ve asked in the last 15 minutes.” You sigh, patience thinning at both the frequent reminders and… well… how goddamn slow Jamie’s being. To pass the time, you’ve taken to concocting a game with the yellow spots on the inside of your closed eyelids.

“Dude it’s been fucking hours would you hurry up already?” 

“Trevor, no one asked you.” Jamie snips at his childish best friend. It’s date night tonight and Jamie wanted to cook for you. Trevor decided, because he is cripplingly codependent, that he just had to sit on the living room couch to scroll Instagram. You’ve mentally taken the under on Trevor stealing some of your bread with olive oil within the first five minutes of it being in front of you because ‘Jimmy why didn’t you make any for me too?’

“Okay it's ready, you can open!” Slowly doing as you’re told to readjust to the well lit dining room, you catch Jamie scurrying around to his side of the table. His face holds an adorably pleased expression, you can tell he’s very proud of himself. The spread in front of you is barbequed steak, bread with olive oil, and a green salad; a shockingly balanced meal. A normally restless boy, Jamie vibrates with excitement even more now as he waits for your appraisal. 

“Jamie baby, it looks amazing! Thank you!” Crows' feet emerge to compensate for his smile becoming impossibly wider, yet he’s still a bit shy, bashful after your praise.

“I’d hope so, it took you long enough Jimbo,” the peanut gallery croons again. You don’t even acknowledge Trevor as you begin to saw through your steak… until red liquid begins to pour out… Stunned and surprised, your mouth gapes for a moment, finding the gentlest way to put things.

“Jamie,” drawing out the final vowel, your eyes flick to his. His expression is eager with eyebrows raised in question.

“How long was this steak on the barbeque for?” 

“Like 10 minutes I think? Why?” Jamie pales slightly at your question.

“I think the heat was too high babe.” Jamie observes his steak with a close eye and then oggles yours from across the table before reaching for his knife. 

“What do you mean? You said it looks amazing, I mean look at those char marks!” 

“Jamie baby, it's practically still moo’ing…” Trevor bursts out laughing, his stupid wheeze accompanying Jamie’s panic. As his knife breaches the admittedly lovely crust, bloody liquid pours out of Jamie’s steak as well. The color of his cheeks grows to match that of what's on his plate. Jamie starts to say something but it’s Trevor’s voice you both hear instead.

“Just put it in the microwave.” 

—

The team returned last night from the East coast road trip. You and Jamie have been in denial about Trevor’s return, trying to stretch out the silence with a lazy day on the couch. Trevor however has had other plans.

“Why do I have the least blanket right now? I’m literally the tallest of us three.” 

“Because no one invited you to join?” You shove at Trevor’s toes that are digging into your thigh from how you’re sardine-d on the couch. He whines as you do so, pushing at you back. Harder. “Ow Trevor stop!” 

“What I’m not fucking doing anything!” 

“Guys! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Jamie bursts, effectively shutting you both up. Trevor glares at you as you snuggle further into Jamie’s chest, Jamie's arm visibly tightening around you. The face you give Trevor is smug. 

“Fine, I’ll just go somewhere else then.” As he stands from the couch he makes an equally childish display of flipping the blanket up and over your head, messing up your hair and covering your eyes.

Jamie coos quietly at you not to say anything or react so you remain calm and settle in to watch the rest of the current episode of Yellowstone with your boyfriend.

A few minutes later when there is a distinct cacophony of falling caps, banging metal doors, and at least a liter container of liquid (hopefully closed) hitting the floor, it’s not hard to tell Trevor has decided to do his laundry. He comes back upstairs acting as if nothing was afoot. 

It’s not until an hour later when Trevor has made the switch to the dryer that you notice something actually might be off. Wafting up from downstairs is a distinct smell of burning. You pause to be sure your nose isn’t confusing something else before voicing your worry.

“Do you smell that?” Jamie sniffs violently enough to be audible. 

“What are you– oh shit!” Jamie moves from behind your back leaving you flopping onto yours from his quickness. “Trevor!!” He shouts while bounding down the stairs. “I told you, you have to clean the lint trap every single time you use the dryer!” His voice grows inaudible the farther downstairs he gets. Trevor peeks his head out from his room. 

“Was he talking to me?” You can’t help but laugh, hands covering your face in disbelief.

“Why are we friends with you?” 

“I’m fucking awesome, duh.”

—

“Okay don’t panic–” Is all you hear before you start to panic. “But umm Z might’ve slipped on the roof…” 

“Tell me you’re joking. Why are you calling me? Oh my god Jamie, call the trainer or something! Is he hurt?” It’s brisk in the shade where you stepped out of your office to answer the incessant calls from your boyfriend. You’re still not off for another hour. 

“I think he’s okay. Definitely tore open his leg but we put some stuff on it. He’s still complaining about it but you know him, he’s always complaining about something so I think he’s okay.” As Jamie finishes, your phone vibrates with a text. “I sent you a picture of it.” The picture reveals a shallow cut about 6 inches long down the front of Trevor’s calf. There’s still remnants of blood around the cut itself and more notably about 12 normal sized bandaids placed like a patchwork quilt over the area of interest. Idiots. “We didn’t wanna get in trouble with the team…” Jamie says softly, decidedly embarrassed.

“I see. Okay well great job with the band aids you guys. I’ll pick some more up on the way home and some other supplies. Why were you up there?” 

“I was playing guitar and Trevor came up to tell me he could do it better and then promptly took it from me.” There’s a pouty lilt to Jamie’s voice that makes you wonder if Trevor’s really the one that got hurt. 

“Did he damage your guitar Jim Jam?” A shiver rakes your body as you’re desperate to get back inside the office.

“No, thank god.” He’s quiet, waiting for your reply. 

“You’re doing great Jamie, it’s really coming along baby.” He chirps a thank you, easily excited by your dismissal of Trevor’s insult. The two of you say your goodbye’s over Trevor’s whining in the background. 

On your way home, as promised, you stop at a drugstore to grab some gauze and larger wraps for Trevor’s ‘injury.’ You send a snarky picture of two contending boxes of Band Aids side by side to Trevor. Your caption ‘Mandalorian or Tangled?’ Something tells you Trevor’s reply is completely serious when your phone lights up with ‘Flynn Rider.’

—

Jamie slips into your shared bathroom as you’re fanning gently at your face. He smiles kindly but doesn’t start a conversation. Instead he reaches for his toothbrush and sets to brushing his teeth. The two of you don’t normally get ready for bed together at the exact same time. Typically one of you is asleep on the couch and being prodded at by the other to come to bed. Well, you normally prod at Jamie while he normally gallantly carries you to bed without disturbing your sleep. As he brushes his teeth, Jamie observes you as his entertainment. He steadies himself with a hip popped against the counter and one foot crossed in front of the other. 

Jamie’s attention does not bother you. Being the type not to speak until prompted, Jamie’s stays silent, his watchful gaze comforting if anything. That is until his lips form a small smile around his toothbrush that begins to grow. Finally you flick your eyes over to him in the mirror and notice toothpaste beginning to trickle down his chin. A drop that was lingering ominously begins to fall so you lurch forward to catch it in the palm of your hand, not wanting to risk the white carpet square Jamie’s standing on. 

“If you keep smiling like that you’re gonna get toothpaste on yourself Jamie. Be careful.” The toothpaste in your palm is flicked into the sink before you promptly rinse your hand. Jamie heeds your warning, deciding it's time for him to rinse as well. After his hands are towel dried he moves to hug you from behind. The smile is still on his face.

“Seriously, what are you smiling about, mister?” A giggle escapes your chest. You feel Jamie’s shrug against your back as you dig for another product in the drawer next to you. 

“Dunno, I’m just so happy you’re here.” Around you, Jamie’s never shied away from honesty and it’s something you’ve always appreciated. The last few months living with Jamie and Trevor has been chaos, hell at times, and insanely stressful but you’ve still found joy in every moment. So you meet Jamie’s honesty with some of your own when you say,

“There’s no place I’d rather be.” 

Later, when the two of you find yourselves curled around each other in bed, under an excessive number of blankets, it’s like Trevor has ESP for when he’s being left out of affections. A knock on the conjoining wall confirms this theory. His voice is muffled but you can still make it out.

“I love you guys.” Jamie chuckles and kisses your forehead, shaking with laughter of your own.

“We love you too Trevor.”

[leafofkudzu]

Slightly delayed posting this, but hello again! The first Saturday of a new month fast approaches, which means it’s soon time for yet another community art party hosted by [VS] Verdant Shield! Last week I ran our first ever location-selection poll, and the winner by just a teensy margin was The Grove, so let’s try out a new location in the same map!

For those not in the loop about what an art party is, they’re an idea carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - big (or small!) get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all kinds to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your most eye-catching outfit together, find someone else who strikes your fancy, and create! Afterwards, everyone shares their creations on social media (mostly here on Tumblr for us) using a party-specific tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see and spread the love around via reblogs! The tl;dr is the same thing I’ve been saying every time I make these posts, and will continue to say ad infinitum: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

General party details are in the image above, but a text version with some additional details such as /squadjoin information is under the cut!

Location Details:

The last time we were in the Grove we tried Dawngleam Pergola as a location, but it very quickly overflowed during the NA party and has as such been disqualified from future large-scale events (sorry!). The Omphalos Chamber (aka the place where you go to visit the Avatar of the Pale Tree) is also limited in size, but is easily spilled out of onto the main floor immediately below it should the need arise (which it very well may). The closest waypoint is Upper Commons Waypoint, and the easiest way up to the uninstanced Chamber would be via a mount such as a springer or skyscale, but you can also use a teleport-to-friend or just kinda yell in an upwards direction to summon a helpful portal-bearer should the need arise. The map looks a little weird when viewed from Chamber-level, but here’s a screenshot just in case you aren’t familiar. If you still aren’t sure, just go the middle of the top floor and look up!

Time & Squad Details:

As always, the party will consist of two separate events, with an hour break in between (though technically people jump from one to the other immediately anyway so weee).

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Summer Time (aka 3pm Eastern Daylight Time or 5 hours before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Daylight Time (aka 1am Central European Summer Time or 1 hour before in-game reset). This one I’ll be hosting on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Kirslyn for an invite.

IMPORTANT NOTE (mostly for the NA party): If you join and the squad is at or above 45 members, please just taxi into the right map and then hop out of squad to allow others to do the same! Essentially all conversation now happens in say chat so you won’t miss out on anything by being outside of squad!

Closing Words:

For those who missed it, a week ago I posted a poll in the party tag where people could vote on one of the five main cities as a party location, with the promise that I’d select a location different from the previous party held in that map for whichever won. Going forward this will be the general format, with the poll going up 2 weeks before and the announcement 1 week before (yes I know this one is delayed I’m sorry D:). If you have suggestions for locations outside of the racial cities that are low/no combat and wouldn’t interfere with events/metas, feel free to DM me and I’ll scope them out for possible inclusion in future polls!

Anyway, that’s all for now! Sorry if I worried anyone by not having this posted back on Saturday - I had some irl stuff going on that delayed me a bit. Thank you so much to everyone who comes out to these and helps make them so memorable and fun, I can’t wait to see you all again soon! ♥

[viperwhispered]

How Not to Be Swept Under - behind the scenes

So, since I’ve been enabled (ty @scint1llat3), some thoughts on the process behind How Not to Be Swept Under. Spoilers for the series, obviously, and also below the cut for length (oop I sure had a few things to say).

Too Much

So, like I said in the notes for this, hearing Ylivoimainen by KUUMAA got me thinking of Jamil being overwhelmed by his feelings. In the song the singer is talking about how you’re overpowering, in the sense that he can’t stand against you, and how the singer would do anything to get to you. Now, while I didn’t think Jamil would be quite that drastic - man’s far too aware of consequences and things - I still wanted to explore what it would mean for Jamil to deal with such feelings.

Iirc, already when I posted this I was pretty sure I wanted to continue the fic. Looking back on the file, I did have the beginnings of the second part there already, but decided that leaving the first part at the moment of realization would be the most impactful.

Ngl, I kinda really love the line “No, if anything, you were quite…inoffensive.”, which is at the end of that part where Jamil’s trying to figure out why you have him on edge. Yes he’s not annoyed (quite the opposite if he’d realize it) but somehow you sure bother him. Wonder why.

“And the way you had looked at him, like-” In my head, this would’ve continued something along the lines of “like you cared for him” - but of course Jamil’s not going to let such conclusions come out, especially with Kalim interrupting him, too.

And for “Surely he was not that stupid. After all, there was no way-”, I was thinking something like “there was no way he had a crush on you”, but, again, Jamil sure isn’t going that far at this point. No way.

Of course, for all these, I don’t mean to say that what I thought when writing is the only way to read it, far from it. But it is what I was thinking at that time.

And that shit in the end? Yeah he’s not willing to put words to it, even in his own mind, but he can’t quite deny what is going on, even if he refuses to face it.

Too Hard

Jamil’s solution to uncomfortable feelings: let’s pretend they don't exist. That’s definitely gonna go fine 🙃

Reader, meanwhile, definitely is aware of their own feelings at this point - they were already acting on them in the first part, after all. So Jamil really is starting on a back foot here, in the sense that he’s still trying to figure (or avoid figuring) out his own thoughts and feelings, while reader’s feelings are turning into action.

However, Jamil’s standoffishness / avoidance here is throwing reader for a loop. I struggled quite a bit with how I should portray this - I didn’t want reader to just go “I’m sad because you’re distant” because you need to be really close for that kind of vulnerability, I feel - certainly closer than these two are. So there was a version where Jamil overheard Kalim comforting reader about it, and another one where Jamil heard just the wrong bit of what you said to Kalim.

In the end, I’d like to think I struck out a reasonable balance between making it clear enough what was going on between you and Jamil, while also not making them too good at communicating.

Ngl, here and throughout I so loved writing Jamil’s thoughts, going through the denial while also peppering in the bits that were quite telling enough of what he actually felt. He might not be admitting it to himself yet, but also even if he tries, he can’t just act neutral with you.

Whereas the title of the first chapter was referring to reader being too much for Jamil, here the title refers to Jamil trying too hard to “act normal”.

Also, by the time I posted this, I already had the title and vague concepts for the next part and the finale - the only question was if I’d need a transition between those two.

Such a oneshot this turned out to be, huh, just 5 parts.

Too Little

Pivot time! The dam breaks, finally, and Jamil has to accept that things are as they are.

It was around this chapter that I noticed myself using all these metaphors about currents and depths and things and started to use them more intentionally. That’s where the title for the whole series came about, as well. I’m not sure where the idea cleared out for me, but I think around here the latest I realized the whole “struggling against the tides (aka your feelings) and expending all your energy there - accepting your feelings as they are, making things all in all much more easier / pleasant” dichotomy for Jamil.

Which, certainly doesn’t apply to just romantic feelings. Like, that man has been repressing so much, and probably spends (or spent, before book 4) so much energy just maintaining the facade - energy which he could use for other things more fruitfully, one would imagine. So, yeah, it became a bit of a theme, that whole learning to understand and accept one’s feelings.

Again, I had so much fun writing him yearning. I was allowing him to complete a few more of his thoughts, letting them go a little further, but it’s not like he’s fully comfortable going all in yet and admitting even to himself all that he’s thinking about.

Tho also look at him being all soft and mushy and in his feels.

Also I couldn’t decide how dirty I could / should go with the “What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-” bit so cutting it off solved that question too, lol.

I did also consider making this chapter much more lewd, Jamil maybe even masturbating to the thought of you, but then there’s the question of community labels and stuff and I didn’t want anyone to miss out a part. Plus like, as much as I love my lewd, I also didn’t want to imply it was just horny he’s feeling for you. But it was definitely a balancing act, trying to figure out just where I’d want to take this.

Tbh, I still might write the nsfw version of this (or something similar, at least) at some point.

Another thing to add to the wip / idea list I guess.

To me, the title feels quite self-explanatory here. He’s got too little of you, and wants to have more of you in his life.

Also that ice cream bit was absolutely there just to treat myself.

Too Fast

So, sometime earlier in the process I’d decided the reader should be the one confessing / making the first obvious move. Partly because come on why should it always be the guy doing that, and partly because the theme here was to keep Jamil on the back foot (ily Jamil but you’re just far too fun to fluster).

So when Too Little ended with Jamil deciding to act, I suddenly realized I had a bit of a dilemma - after all, Jamil is the sort who likes to make others act. Originally, I thought that what would throw Jamil off here would be you acting before Jamil gets to make his move. But for a character who likes to nudge others to act, would that really be a problem?

Thankfully, Jamil is also a planner thrown off when things go off rails - I mean, he can definitely adjust, as we see here and elsewhere, but it was enough to throw him off the loop the way I wanted to. So, I pivoted to Jamil being surprised by you making your move without his nudges. Jamil maintained his backfootedness as intended, and I managed to keep myself from accidentally glossing over parts of his character - win-win.

Writing this out like this feels like such minor nitpicking but well let’s just say that for the particular vibes I wanted to go for, it seemed to make a difference.

Also this bit:

“But he needed to know if it all was enough for what he wanted with you.

And if not… Well. Perhaps there was something to be done about that. Given enough time, enough attention…

He could be a listening ear, a supporting presence, get to know you further, if he needed to.

Yes, he wanted you to be his sooner rather than later, but if he had to wait and work for it, he would.”

Now, one could certainly read this a bit yan if one wanted to, but mostly I just felt like I had had Jamil be so “nice” so far and it felt like I really needed a dash of the more calculated parts of him, willing to put so much on the line to get what he wants. Like sure we’re going pretty fluffy with this story but it is still Jamil we’re talking about.

The scene with the basketball trio was originally Scarabia kitchen (with Jamil almost fumbling his phone into a pot or counter instead, and a random student questioning him), but then I realized I already had Jamil doing a lot of cooking and related things in this fic. So basketball trio to the rescue, and for a change of scenery, too. (And me hoping that in just couple of lines of dialogue I won’t do too grave injustices to the other characters.)

Also with Floyd in there, of course I had to include the line about “a taste of blood in the water”.

Again, it was quite the balancing act, trying to figure out just how flustered Jamil should be. A king of compartmentalization, after all, (and no jmeal this is not a compliment), but also I wanted him to be genuinely affected. So addlebrained Jamil it was, but hopefully I didn’t make him too much of a bumbling fool for who he is.

Also ngl I was really happy with myself with the parenthesis thoughts.

“He’d make something quick for Kalim’s dinner while preparing something to share with you. (What could he make with the time and ingredients he had that you really liked? What about dessert? He knew how much you enjoyed sweets, after all.)”

The logical, planning mind in the regular text, all the feels and “idle” thoughts in the parenthesis - which he’s trying to keep under control / at bay, but can’t, quite.

Again, Jamil, wouldn’t life be much easier if you let yourself feel your feels?

Ngl, I kind of feel like a coward, skipping so much of the dialogue in the confession scene. On the other hand, this series had turned into such a deep dive into Jamil’s head, that I was kinda content to keep to that inner perspective, even in this particular situation.

It’s strange, though, since often when I draft fics, for example, I build things around dialogue. But with this fic it just seemed to be different aspects calling to me.

Also knuckle kisses? Leave me absolutely weak, I could not resist including that.

I did wonder if I was too obviously spelling out my thought process, talking about reader having been ahead of Jamil in the feels curve, but on the other hand I figured it would be something Jamil would realize. So hopefully it didn’t turn too far in to telling rather than showing (I say, as if the next chapter isn’t so much of telling, oop).

“And in that sweet moment Jamil finally stopped fighting, at least for a moment. He let go of his plans, his resistance, and allowed himself to be swept up by you.”

And here we are, finishing with those themes of tides / feelings, the first dip of Jamil allowing himself to stop fighting. Not gonna say he dropped all his bad habits here, but at least he had a moment of calm.

Just Right

And we get the fluffiest of payoffs. Expounding on themes I outlined earlier, but also just fluffy sweetness.

Ngl, I was pulling from my irl relationship for a lot of these things.

“And all those things Jamil had not even allowed himself to think of back then now freely filled his mind.”

Like I said in the notes for this part as well, I combed through the earlier parts, picking out the unfinished thoughts and other bits that were poignant for what I wanted to say about Jamil’s feelings and his handling of them. So lots of callbacks, pretty much, to tie things up.

“However, finally, Jamil had learned how to withstand those currents. Fighting them, denying your pull… It truly had been a fool’s errand. Riding with the waves, steering his course was the only way he could make it - but only once he allowed himself to be carried by the flow.”

I was really wondering how to word this bit the right way. I didn’t want to say that the relationship was inevitable or anything like that - life happens, Jamil has agency, he could’ve chosen to say no to your date invitation etc. But the feelings were there, and couldn’t be denied away - at least not without significant and frankly wasted effort.

So, yeah, it was a fun project, going through the stages of Jamil’s thought process, slowly (or not so slowly) letting him think in different ways as the story progressed and showing those things in different ways.

Plus I’ve been doing almost exclusively oneshots for some time so it was nice to do something a little longer.

Hopefully these thoughts were of interest to at least some of you! Again, I want to iterate, I don’t want to say that my thought process behind writing dictates the one true way to interpret things or anything like that. It is simply where I’m approaching the story from, and what is behind the choices I make in telling the story.

Honestly if anyone reads all of this you deserve a cookie. Maybe even a drabble.

[gumnut-logic]

Lego Volcano (Part 2)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2

This is a sequel to the fic that was the result of several Thunderfam members in this post.

I think @womble1 was the one who asked for an Sweetapple sequel, so here it is. But I should not disregard the egging on from @idontknowreallywhy @sofasurf @sailing-on-a-puddle or any of the others because they are all equally responsible for the following 2000 words, which is twice as long as the original fic. Mostly because alex's brain wanders all over the place all the time, but still :D

I also need to thank @onereyofstarlight for the read through and sanity check. You are kind to me as always.

Warning for sick fic, sick!Virgil, loving Gords and all the fluff. This is also a Sweetapple fic and is consequently m/m. If that isn't your thing, this isn't your fic.

There is also quite a bit of FishTank by Proxy in this :D

I hope you enjoy the bucket of fluff that has delayed my lunch beyond 2.30pm.

-o-o-o-

Alex had been daydreaming when Gordon bounded into his lab.

“Hey, Apples.”

His stylus left his fingers and did a lovely loop-de-loop as he jumped. The eco-plastic pinged and clattered as it bounced off his laptop, the table, his empty coffee cup, and finally hit the floor, coming to a rolling halt at Gordon’s feet.

The aquanaut bent down and picked it up. He offered it to Alex with a slight bow and an amused smile. “All the mad skillz there, Apples.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Gordon, you scared the crap out of me.” He narrowed his eyes as the man’s grin widened. “Again.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes.�� Gordon leant against the desk. “Hey, I’ve got a mission for you.”

“What?” Alex frowned. He wouldn’t say he was wary of Gordon, the two of them had developed a good friendship due to the man they had in common. Gordon was the wingman, and Alex was…well, Virgil’s man.

The thought was still a shy one, despite months having drifted by, ever so wonderfully, since that first kiss. The daydream that had been interrupted may have contained more Virgil than engineering, if Alex was honest. But then daydreaming about an engineer kind was related to engineering? Maybe? Alex didn’t really care, because he was…Virgil’s man.

“Earth to Apples.” Gordon waved a hand in front of his face.

Alex swiped at it.

Gordon snorted at him as he predictably missed. “Anyway, a mission. Your boy is down with the plague-“

“What?!” Alex sat up and his stylus landed on the floor again.

“Hey, he’s okay. Just picked up a lurgy from the London sewers. It’s giving him a hard time.”

“The sewers!” Alex hadn’t heard from Virgil for a few days. It happened occasionally. John would drop him a line if International Rescue was out on an extended stint. Alex had even heard from John’s PA once. That conversation had been interesting to say the least. She had reported Virgil’s position and then gave him the third degree on everything from his birthdate to his preference for pineapple ice cream.

He had spoken to Virgil about the conversation after the incident and had the pleasure of watching those gorgeous eyebrows climb into Virgil’s hairline. He said he would speak to John about it, and Alex hadn’t heard from her since.

He still didn’t know why she wanted to know his favourite flower, or his preference for bagels or popcorn.

But, in summary, Alex hadn’t been worried about the lack of communication and had presumed John would chime in if there was any concern.

Apparently not.

Alex stood up and grabbed his coat.

“What are you doing?” Gordon was eyeing him.

“I’m coming with you.”

“But I have a mission for you.”

“If it doesn’t involve Virgil, then I don’t care.” He glared at Gordon. “But you knew that, so I believe you were going to say that Virgil is miserable and won’t tell me because he knows I will want to be there for him.”

“Alex, he’s contagious.”

“Then why are you here? If it was that bad, Mrs Tracy would have quarantined the Island.”

“He was keeping to his room.”

“Was?”

“He had a little accident last night. Scott had to patch him up.”

Alex let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m signing out. What did you fly down here?”

“Tracy Two.”

“Meet you on the tarmac.”

And with that he shot out of the lab. He found Erica in the lunch room and let her know he would likely be away for a few days.

She raised an eyebrow, but was happy to cover for him on the project. He was not, repeat not, going to comment on the smile she had on her face. Fireman Fred’s expression was fond and Alex made a note to question Erica about the frequency of her lunch dates with the man.

Did she really think no one had noticed?

The director waved permission for leave without hesitation and he made sure he signed out properly - every time he did this, he was reminded of the one time he had screwed up.

Grabbing a bag from his apartment, he threw it over his shoulder and headed down to the airstrip.

Gordon stood waiting beside Tracy Two, the sleek jet screaming rich and famous and very much Tracy. A moment of hesitation, realising he had made demands of Gordon, talked over him, and basically hijacked his plane and his plans.

But the thought of Virgil had him straightening his back and striding forward. There would always be the socio-economic difference between him and Virgil. It wasn’t something that could be fixed.

So he was determined to ignore it.

The important thing here was that Virgil was sick and Alex needed transport to reach him.

The knowing smile on Gordon’s face as he grabbed Alex’s bag was just reassurance that Alex was doing the right thing.

“C’mon, Apples, let’s get you to your man.”

And if he had to put up with the aquanaut’s ribbing, so be it.

-o-o-o-

Alex had flown more in the last few months than he had in his entire life.

Because of Tracy Island, the Tracys lived in the skies. It was necessary.

It was obvious that some of the brothers enjoyed it more than others. But they could all fly. Even Mrs Tracy - she had made a habit of flying down to Napier every now and again to visit Alex’s mother. The two of them had started up a fast friendship.

Alex was both happy and terrified. Both had lost their partners in life, both were doctors, and both had an invested interest in Virgil and Alex…which was no doubt their favourite topic of conversation.

But Mum seemed happy and as far as Alex was concerned, that was enough.

And if Mrs Tracy knew more about Alex than he was likely comfortable with, well…he had nothing to hide.

After all, she had already seen him naked.

He shuddered.

“You with us, Apples?”

He was sitting beside Gordon in the cockpit, the huge expanse of the Pacific Ocean beneath them. The private jet was, in contrast to the Thunderbirds, amazingly quiet. Of course, it didn’t have the speed of the ‘birds, but it made up for it with comfort.

The Thunderbirds were made for practicality and speed. Tracy Two was made to live in.

“We are on approach. Almost there.”

Alex side eyed Gordon. “You’re worried about him.”

“Yeah.” It was more a sigh of admission than anything else. “This one has hit him hard. Don’t be offended that he didn’t tell you. He was probably trying to protect you, more than anything else. Self-sacrificing twat.” Gordon looked at him. “John says your shots are all up to date.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Alex rolled his eyes just a little. “Have you met my mother?”

Gordon snorted. “You have a point.” He turned back to the windows. “We do our best to protect ourselves but sometimes things just get through.” He shrugged. “Alan scared the shit out of us once with scarlet fever. All the travelling the world we do, and he picked it up from school.”

“He was okay?”

“Took him out for a bit. Gave Scott a few of those grey hairs that make me glad I’m blond, but yeah, he was okay.” He eyed Alex’s hair. “Be glad of that white blond of yours, you might need it dating one of us.”

Alex wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He was aware of the dangers, but he couldn’t dwell on them. Virgil had already given him all the reassurance he could. It was just part and parcel of loving a hero.

The blush on Virgil’s face when he said that was definitely worth it.

Tracy Island appeared out of the blue below as Gordon angled the jet in to land. This wasn’t the first time Alex had flown out to Tracy Island. Usually, Virgil flew him. Scott had once picked him up in Thunderbird One while on a pizza run. That had been an experience. He hadn’t even had time to work out if he was exhilarated or terrified before the Thunderbird was pivoting to land.

He did discover exactly how much pizza the Tracys could consume in one meal, however, and that was definitely terrifying.

He might have to take out a bank loan if he invited them over to dinner.

Tracy Two proved that it was not the average private jet as its flight angle flattened and was punctuated by the flare of VTOL. Gordon gently let the plane down on the partially hidden runway to the east of the villa. The cliff folded in on itself and Tracy Two trundled into the hangers under the mountain.

Thunderbird Two immediately caught Alex’s eyes, the great ‘bird high up on its landing struts ready to deploy when needed.

“He’s okay, Alex, I promise. I came to get you because…he needs a hug.” A sigh. “And I’m kinda hoping he will listen to you.”

Tracy Two pulled into her spot and Gordon switched off her engines, letting her wind down to silence.

“He’s not listening?” That did not sound like Virgil.

“He’s miserable. Too tired to be able to do his stuff and frustrated because of it. And god forbid if we go on a mission without him.” Gordon turned in his seat. “Alex, he is okay, but he needs a little TLC, and perhaps permission to stand down. You are not a brother he has had to listen to all his life. He loves you. He will listen to you.” With that Gordon turned back to the controls and ran the plane through post flight.

Alex eyed him and bit his lip. Gordon loved his brother dearly. It may not have been said, but it was obvious in the slight frown, the faint flush to his cheeks, and the intensity in his eyes.

“I will do my best.”

“I know you will, Apples.” A slight smile and that familiar gleam.

“Then let’s go find your wingman.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil was in his rooms.

Gordon didn’t really knock, more barged in, unannounced. They caught Virgil shirtless, unshaven, and wearing only a pair of worn pyjama pants. His hair was sticking up in all directions. He was attempting to pour himself a coffee and at the sight of Alex, quite frankly, looked like a deer stuck in headlights.

He was also covered in sticking plasters, several stuck to his arms, legs and back.

“Omigod! What happened to you?” Alex beelined for Virgil.

The man continued to stare as Alex approached, hand still held up mid pour. Alex gently took the coffee from his hands and placed on the counter.

“Alex, what are you doing here?” Virgil backed off, holding up his hands. “Stay back. I’m contagious.” There was a panic in his eyes. “Gordon, what did you do?!”

“I simply told Alex that his man was ill.” Gordon shrugged. “He then stowed away on Tracy Two.”

Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon ignored it. “He wanted to see you. I’m not getting in the way of true love.”

“You are a dead fish. How could y-“

Alex closed the distance between them and placed a single finger across Virgil’s protesting lips. Tired, dark eyes stared at him in surprise

 “Let off Gordon, love, I insisted.”

“But-“

“Why didn’t you call me?”

The exhaustion on Virgil’s face cut into Alex and he reached up, running gentle fingers through Virgil’s messed up hair. He wanted nothing more than to kiss it all better.

“I didn’t want you to get sick.”

“I’m the son of a doctor, my shots are all up to date thanks to the very generous medical plan that comes with being a Tracy Industries employee, and…” Alex half rolled his eyes. “…again, my mother. I’m thinking my immune system is up to the task.”

“I don’t want…” But Virgil trailed off and Alex could see the absolute exhaustion take over as Virgil ran out of protest and wilted against him. “I’m sorry.” It was so quiet, Alex doubted he was supposed to hear it.

So this was what Gordon meant.

Alex wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and drew him in tight, gently nudging his head onto his shoulder. He glanced at Gordon and mouthed a ‘thank you’ as Virgil finally relaxed into his hold.

Gordon whispered. “Call if you need anything.” He started backing away to the door.

“You’re still dead, Fish.” The words rumbled into his collarbone and Alex stroked an ear with a finger

Gordon snorted. “Well, then, I’ll die happy knowing you have someone you might actually listen to.”

“Gordon!” It was all protest, fondness and love.

A snort and Gordon bounced out of the room almost exactly how he had bounced into Alex’s lab barely half an hour earlier.

Virgil groaned into Alex’s shirt. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to sit down with me on your comfy couch and tell me what happened.”

Virgil let himself be guided to the crochet-covered lounge and Alex curled him up against his side.

“So what happened?”

Virgil sighed and relaxed in Alex’s arms.

“Stupid Lego.”

“Lego?!”

-o-o-o-

Next

[embroideredcursewords]

Baby, You’re a Sunset.

Relationships: Spider-Man/Deadpool. Peter Parker/Wade Wilson.

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Soulmate AU. Soulmark AU. Alternate Universe. Peter Parker needs a hug. Wade Wilson needs a hug. Peter Parker is a sassy little shit. Wade Wilson being inappropriate as always. Scarred Wade Wilson. This is so soft. Bottom!Peter Parker. Top!Wade Wilson. Bottom Peter Parker. Top Wade Wilson. Peter kinda tops from the bottom, though. Power bottom Peter Parker. Fluff and smut. Getting together. Falling in love. Then falling into bed.

Summary: Peter Parker had always been embarrassed about his Soulmark—embarrassed, confused, and honestly a bit pissed off. He and his soulmate would be having words.

//Trigger Warnings: Language. Talk of violence. Sex. Sex without a condom.\\

——————————————————————————

Peter Parker had always been embarrassed about his Soulmark—embarrassed, confused, and honestly a bit pissed off. Soulmarks were the universe’s way of evening the scales a bit. Soulmates were, philosophically speaking, a pretty fucked up phenomenon. You have this one chance—this one chance—to find the person you were destined to be with. What if they were dead or on the other side of the world? You’d never know. Peter had seen the effect that could have on people. He’d known a girl in highschool who met her soulmate a month before being killed in a car accident. His aunt had lost her own soulmate and now May felt like dating was pointless.

Still, the romantic in him felt a longing for his soulmate. Mary Jane and Gwen had discovered that they were soulmates in middle school. Gwen had just started that year. She’d been a quiet kid, sitting alone during lunch. Mary Jane slid next to her on the bus, accidentally knocking their arms together. Both of the girls’ bright white marks had swirled with color. Now, the two delighted in communicating through their Soulmarks and leaving everyone else out of the loop. They’d been in seventh grade and already had their entire lovelives sorted. It wasn’t fair. Peter sighed to himself. He didn’t mean to be bitter and jaded, but at twenty-five with a Soulmark like his, he couldn’t help it. Soulmarks were supposed to be this amazing thing, but everytime Peter thought about his own, he felt miserable.

“Spidey!”

A loud bang shook Peter out of his thoughts. He located the disturbance, then rolled his eyes.

“Deadpool.”

The mercenary had practically been stalking him the past few months. At first, Peter had avoided him like the plague. Last week, though, there was a shift in the air. Deadpool had taken a bullet for him, and now Peter felt indebted to him—even though, technically, Deadpool was immortal. Taking a bullet was closer to a splinter than a sacrificial action for the maniac. Still, Peter was putting up with his presence these days despite literally everyone telling him what a bad idea that was. It was easier to think of Deadpool as an annoying puppy. He followed too closely, had WAY too much energy, and occasionally drooled but if Peter kicked him, he’d be a monster. However irritating Deadpool was, he was pretty useful on patrols. The thorn in Peter’s side was currently unpacking several paper bags and lining up tons of take-out. Deadpool did have his uses.

“I didn’t know what you were in the mood for tonight—because you refuse to answer my texts—so I brought Mexican, Chinese, Thai, and Italian.”

“I don’t answer your texts because you refuse to call me Spider-Man. I made myself perfectly clear on Tuesday.” Deadpool managed to pout in such a way that Peter could see it through the mask. “Don’t start with me, Pool. I’ve had a bad day.”

“What happened? Do you need me to kill somebody?”

Peter glared at Deadpool.

“Why is that always your first response? No. I do not want you to kill anybody. That’s the point of this whole ‘rehabilitation’ experiment. You kill someone, we’re done.”

“You know, ultimatums aren’t the way to get what you want in a relationship. I have the marriage counselor on speed dial.”

“This is not a relationship. It’s just an experiment.”

“Okay, Katy Perry, calm down.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

Deadpool immediately pulled out his phone and I Kissed A Girl began blasting through the tinny speakers. Peter sighed, but rolled his mask up and began to eat before the food got cold. Deadpool had insisted on eating either before or after patrols. He called it “bonding time.” Peter had accepted this term with little resistance. His enhanced speed, stamina, and healing came with a monstrous appetite and he was usually broke. Eating with Deadpool meant one less meal he had to pay for. He felt a bit guilty for letting the mercenary pay, but Deadpool always insisted. It was nice in a way that irritated Peter. It irritated him because things like this made it harder to hate Deadpool.

“Seriously, Webhead. If you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”

Peter paused. On the one hand, he was pretty against telling Deadpool anything personal about himself. The man was a trained mercenary and he quite literally made a living off of tracking people down. On the other hand, it was a pretty hidden part of his life. It wasn’t like he went around and told everyone about his Soulmark. Only a handful of people knew about it. The rest of the world believed that Peter Parker had no soulmate. He liked it better that way. It might be nice to vent about it for once.

“It’s just… nothing happened. I’ve just been upset. It’s stupid.”

“Upset about what?” Deadpool spoke around a mouthful of food. Peter had gotten pretty used to the scars, but the way they stretched around his full mouth were a bit distracting. “And it’s not stupid. You’re upset, that’s valid as hell, babe.”

Peter took his own massive, sullen bite. However, he wasn’t raised in a barn so he chewed and swallowed before replying.

“I’ve been upset about my Soulmark. Like it’s been there forever, so I’m mostly used to it, but once in a while… I just get so irritated.”

“Why?”

God, he was like a toddler sometimes.

“It’s… in an embarrassing place.”

“Oh.”

Deadpool continued to eat, letting the silence linger for a few minutes. It was weird to see the mercenary being quiet for once. It made Peter uneasy.

“Well? Gonna tell me how ungrateful I am? How there are thousands of people out there who would kill for my Soulmark? How I should just be happy I have a soulmate at all?”

“Nah. Just ‘cus one person would want it doesn’t mean you have to.” Peter’s mouth snapped shut. Deadpool continued to eat before pulling his mask up a bit further and turning to face Peter. “I kinda understand. I mean, my soulmate is gonna slap me.”

Sure enough, a white handprint marked the left side of Deadpool’s face. The mark swiped down towards his mouth. That definitely looked like a slap.

“I mean, it could be something else…”

Peter tried his best to be convincing. Deadpool just shook his head.

“Nah. Thanks, but it’s definitely a slap. You know me, it definitely makes sense. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna hit me?”

Peter felt something like guilt settle in his stomach in response to the self-deprecating joke. He’d been a bit of a jerk to Deadpool. The man had to take a bullet for Peter to stop avoiding him. Deadpool noticed his frown and chuckled.

“It’s fine, really. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.”

“You don’t know what my head looks like.”

“Yeah, but I just know you’re gorgeous under there.”

————————————————————————

Peter glanced around the apartment. It was surprisingly clean. He’d expected a total disaster. It was his first time in Wade’s apartment. They’d been patrolling together for a couple months and Peter had officially given up the ghost. Wade was his friend. There was no use fighting it any more. He’d been invited over to watch a movie after patrol. Wade was in the shower, singing at the top of his lungs. Peter tried valiantly not to smile. He failed. There was just something so endearing about it. Sure, Wade was still irritating. But these days, Peter laughed along more often than he rolled his eyes. He could hear the water being turned off as Wade continued to get cleaned up. Peter continued to explore.

The apartment was massive. It would take some serious money to rent this place. The kitchen had one of those fancy islands in it. Peter grabbed a beer from the fridge, took one drink, and decided he was not a beer person. Awkwardly, he carried the nasty thing with him from room to room. The dining area held a table decorated with an old lady tablecloth. Peter ran his hand over the worn lace. He wondered where Wade got it. Maybe it was a family heirloom or something. The living room had a giant TV with the most comfortable-looking couch Peter had ever seen. He sunk into the cushions with a grateful sigh. It had been a long day. Wade sat beside him, turning on the TV to scroll through Disney Plus.

“Whatcha wanna watch?”

“I dunno. Something good.”

“Well, that certainly narrows it down.” Wade threw a sarcastic look his way. Peter enjoyed these moments where he went without the mask. Some day, maybe he could go without his own mask. Some day.

“Fine, then. Let’s watch Hercules.”

Wade nodded, appeased, and the movie began to play. Peter started falling asleep part-way through. Wade woke him back up and brought a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt for him to wear. He changed in the bathroom, and for a real moment, debated going without his mask. He’d finally be able to get the jump on Wade. Lately, his Spider-Sense had not been working around Deadpool and he was getting pretty cocky about it. Wade knocked on the door to make sure he hadn’t somehow fallen asleep while changing. Peter looked at himself in the mirror, fussing with his hair and hoping against all odds that it would obey him for once.

“Fuck it.”

“What? Fuck what? I wanna know what we’re fucking!”

Peter opened the bathroom door, mask in hand.

“It’s Peter.”

Wade stared at him in a strange mix of awe and confusion.

“We’re fucking Peter? Who’s Peter?”

He blushed.

“No, me. I’m Peter.” Then, he added quickly: “And we’re not fucking me.”

“See? I knew you’d be gorgeous under there!”

Peter rolled his eyes, blush still firmly in place as I Won’t Say I’m In Love blared from the living room tv.

————————————————————————

It was nearly a year later when the topic of soulmates came up again. Peter had invited Wade over, against his best judgment, and was being scolded as usual about the lack of food in the fridge. After takeout had been ordered (paid for by Wade, despite Peter’s habitual argument) and the game system was set up. Wade sat far away from Peter, as usual. Through the year of their friendship, Wade had refused to risk any sort of physical touch, and it was confusing for Peter. They’d grown so close over time that every super, villain or hero, counted them as a pair. It was rare for Peter to patrol alone these days. It only ever happened when Wade was “out of town.” He didn’t ask about those trips for his own peace of mind, but he couldn’t help but pay special attention to the news. As far as he could tell, Wade had been sticking to his promise. He hadn’t killed anyone since their agreement.

Though Peter didn’t know it, when Wade took a job he made sure to specify that maiming would be the furthest he’d go for a client. Weasel had almost had an aneurism when Wade broke the news. He’d been the biggest moneymaker for Sister Margaret’s, but according to Weasel he’d been “pussywhipped” by Spider-man. Wade took great offense to this and had informed Weasel that he’d actually been “dickwhipped” and that he planned on continuing that state until Spider-man broke down and fucked him. These days, though, Wade had felt a bit less randy and a bit more enamored. The more he learned about Peter, the more he was convinced that a one night stand could never be enough. In the words of Trisha Yearwood, he was gonna “marry that boy someday.” It was that same selfish urge that had prevented him from any physical contact with Peter. When he’d learned of Peter having a soulmark, all those months ago, a seed of pitiful and useless hope had sprouted in his heart. He was afraid to touch Peter now, for fear of squashing that hope when his soulmark would inevitably remain white. And yet, the sight of Peter curled up on the other end of the couch, clutching his remote and snickering as he sent a blue shell at Wade… He wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind, sweep Peter off his feet, and carry him off to the sunset.

“Gotcha, bitch!” Peter shouted excitedly as he took first place.

“You got me, alright.” Wade smiled softly. Peter glanced sideways at him.

Suddenly, the game was paused. Wade turned to look at him quizzically.

“What’s going on, Wade? Usually you’re almost as competitive as I am.”

“For the record, I am way more competitive than you are.”

“It’s not a competition, Wade. My point was—“

“It is so a competition. Everything’s a competition. See, this is exactly why I’m more competitive than you are.”

“Wade.” Peter said with a soft warning in his voice. Wade quieted. “What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?”

“I was just thinking about soulmarks.”

Peter looked at him with surprise.

“Soulmarks? What made you think about that?”

Wade gestured to his own mark.

“Hard not to think about, with this plastered on my face.”

Peter nodded sympathetically.

“I feel you.”

“I wish you would—“ Wade’s lecherous comment was interrupted.

“I thought Vanessa was your soulmate?”

Wade was quiet for a few minutes, memories of his previous happy life with Vanessa.

“She was.”

“She never touched your face?”

“Vanessa’s soulmark was on my chest.”

Again, Peter was surprised.

“You had two soulmarks? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that happening.”

Sometimes, people had more than two soulmates, but they only ever had one mark. Peter had known three soulmates in elementary school. Each bore a matching soulmark. They’d all three been playing Red Rover at recess one day. The touch of the first soulmate had only added half the color, the second touch had filled in the gaps. Still, only one mark.

“I only had the one when she was alive. Then when she…” Wade trailed off, his voice cracking with grief. Peter moved to comfort him, but Wade shook his head and stood, putting more distance between them. Peter felt a sharp sting through his heart.

“I know I’m not her. But Jesus, Wade. I can’t even hold your hand?”

“It’s not about her.”

“Then what the fuck is it about?”

Wade gestured to his face, beginning to pace anxiously.

“I don’t want you to touch me.” He began quietly. Peter probably wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t for his superhearing. “I don’t think I can handle knowing that you aren’t my—just fucking forget it.”

Peter froze.

“You want me to be your soulmate.” Wade stayed silent. “Wade—“

“No, don’t tell me. I know. I know I’m the last person on earth you’d be soulmates with.” He laughed bitterly, sarcasm clouding his words. “Wouldn’t that be fucking perfect. New York’s golden boy! The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, soulmates with a fucking murderer.”

“Wade, please—“

“No, it’s fine. I get the message, Webs. I really do.”

“Would you just shut the fuck up and listen!” Peter yelled. Wade stilled. “Wade, you absolute moron! I want you to be my soulmate so fucking bad. I love you, dumbass! I love you and it kills me because I know I’m not your soulmate! You wanna know how I know?”

Wade spun around to face him.

“How do you know?” Hope lit up his eyes, shattering Peter’s heart as tears stung his eyes.

“Because I would never slap you, Wade! And my soulmark…” He trailed off. Wade didn’t push it. Instead, he plopped onto the couch, head in his hands. Peter scooted closer, careful not to touch. Still, there was hope in his chest. He couldn’t help it. He studied Wade’s soulmark, the way it seemed almost undeniable. The way it slid so neatly downwards. Peter had been slapped. The redness on his face had looked the same. And yet…

“Oh, Wade.” Peter said in a whisper, tears blurring his vision. He shut his eyes, unable to stop his hand from reaching out and touching Wade’s cheek. His hand slid as Wade startled, Peter thumbed his lower lip gently. “I wish we were soulmates. I love you. I love you so much.”

“Peter… Babyboy.” Wade’s hand settled low on his waist, more on his ass than anything, and Peter suddenly felt a pleasant sort of burning sensation. He gasped. “I think we are.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open, greeted by color swirling and blooming, bordered by Wade’s lovely scars. His hand fell from Wade, yanking up his shirt while his other pushed at the waistband of his pants. Sure enough, the warm sensation was accompanied by his own soulmark blooming. Wade had tears in his eyes now. He gazed at Peter with such tenderness, he almost couldn’t stand it. Peter’s hand softly cupped his cheek again.

“I didn’t slap you.”

Wade let out a choking sob.

“No. No, you were so gentle.”

Peter’s lips met his for a mere moment. The softest kiss in the history of kisses.

“You deserve gentleness.”

As he shuffled forward, Wade’s hand slipped under his shirt, under the waistband of his pants, and settled firmly over his soulmark. Peter’s breath hitched as Wade gripped his ass softly, nearly falling forward to land in Wade’s lap. Their mouths met again, starting so soft and gentle that Peter’s eyes began watering again. Heat crept into the corners of their kiss. It started as an ember, slowly building to a raging inferno. Wade began kneading at Peter’s ass, each push and pull brushing the two against each other. Peter’s lips fell open and Wade’s tongue licked into his mouth like a fire. Their breath came in short, panting bursts as they both began to grow desperate for one another. Finally, Peter pulled away and Wade let out a whine, only to wolf whistle as he yanked off his shirt. Wade did the same and Peter’s hands ran down his chest. Among the scars, one stood out. It was a handprint, blackened. Peter let out a slow breath. This was Vanessa’s mark. Wade kissed and nipped along his jaw, swiftly distracting him. They could talk about that later.

Peter’s hips ground against Wade’s, both groaning in the pleasure a simple movement could give. Their hands only pulled away to tear off clothes.

Soon enough, they sat fully bare and vulnerable. Wade let his eyes roam hungrily along Peter’s naked body, and Peter did the same. Wade was gorgeous, and he told him just that. Wade’s soulmark positively glowed, golden with happiness. Peter’s did the same. When it became a beautiful rose gold, Wade could have cried. Despite all odds, Peter loved him. Peter loved him, and he was happy. Kisses were peppered gently along Wade’s face and suddenly, he couldn’t wait anymore. His strong arms swept Peter up and carried him off. The bedroom wasn’t exactly the sunset, but their soulmarks could outshine even the most gorgeous sunset. Peter bounced lightly as Wade collapsed on the bed. Wade groaned at the extra friction. When Peter’s soft hand joined their dicks together, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Oh, god. Wade—“ Peter sighed. His head lolled back, his hips wiggling against Wade’s.

“I need you, too, baby.”

Peter grinned, releasing their members as he swung his leg off of Wade’s lap.

“You’re gonna need to prep me, big boy.”

Wade moaned before sitting up to face his soulmate. His soulmate! God! He rummaged through the bedside table for a minute before pulling out a bottle of lube. Peter blushed as Wade held up a rather large dildo with a smirk.

“Are you a size queen, baby? Or were you trying to prepare for me, hm?”

“Both.” Peter answered honestly. He laughed when Wade held it up to his own dick to compare the size. “Alright, alright! Dick-measuring contest later! I need you to fuck me now.”

“Yes, sir!” Wade saluted with the dildo before dropping it back in the drawer and rejoining Peter on the—rather small, he should really buy Peter a new one—bed. His soulmate, and Wade would never, ever get tired of calling him that, rolled onto his stomach and pushed up onto his hands and knees. Wade groaned as Peter turned his head to smile at him.

“Keep smiling at me like that and I’ll give you anything.”

“Currently, I want your cock. Can you hurry up and give me that?”

Wade slicked up his fingers in response, taking the time to circle Peter’s hole gently.

“Ahhh, Wade. Been waiting for this.”

Wade let his finger slip in to the first knuckle.

“How long have you been waiting, babyboy?”

“About a year.”

Wade groaned.

“Jesus. Bet you’re all pent up, hm?”

“So pent up, Wade.”

Another groan and Wade added another finger, beginning to gently scissor them as he fucked his soulmate with his hand.

“Love it when you say my name.”

“I love you, Wade.”

“Fuck me, I love you too, Peter.”

The third finger slipped in, searching for Peter’s prostate.

“Wade, if you don’t put your cock in me now, I’m going to cum on your fingers and go to sleep.”

The threat was an effective one. Wade pulled his fingers free before searching for a condom. Peter shook his head.

“I don’t think either of us could carry anything. Healing factors are a wonder, aren’t they?”

Wade wasn’t about to argue. He added some lube to his hand before slicking up his own cock and guiding it to Peter’s hole. His hips inched forward, slowly filling his soulmate up. Peter’s breath got faster with each gentle push. Wade’s hand captured Peter’s cock, stroking slowly to distract him from any potential stretch. It took a minute before he bottomed out, being sure to give his soulmate enough time to adjust.

“Ah, Wade. Yes! Uhnn, god. Feel so full.” He wiggled his hips back against Wade before sinking onto the bed. “Think you can flip me around without taking your cock out?”

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Can’t be without my cock for a moment, can you?”

Peter grinned back at him.

“Can you be without me?” He squeezed down around Wade, choking a groan out of him.

“Good point.” Wade sort of pinwheeled Peter onto his back, keeping his cock buried deep. He waggled his eyebrows. Peter laughed.

“You did it! I knew you could do it.”

Wade smiled, pulling Peter’s legs to rest around his waist, and he moved. He started making love, his hips starting a deep, slow pace. Peter groaned, his hands gripping the sheets before Wade leaned down to rest his weight on his elbows. They kissed softly, both hands moving to touch soulmarks. Wade thoroughly enjoyed the gentle lovemaking. His heart felt tender as Peter matched his pace with his own hips. Wade groaned into the kiss as Peter sighed in time with his thrusts. It was sweet and slow, yet filled with passion. He gripped Peter’s ass as his thrusts became harder and faster, panting only interrupted by moans. Peter’s legs gripped his waist, hand stroking his own cock in time. Wade was getting close, and by the sounds of Peter’s broken cries, he was too. Wade came with a shout, jerking his hips in the aftershocks. Peter quickened his strokes, but Wade batted his hand away. He was given a disgruntled noise before he moved downwards, taking Peter into his mouth. It didn’t take long, and frankly in his post-orgasm state it wasn’t his best work, but Peter soon crumbled inwards as he reached his own peak. Wade swallowed every drop like it was ambrosia.

They fell back together, spent, sweating, and smiling. Wade pulled Peter into his arms and his hand found it’s place on his ass. Peter’s hand gently stroked his cheek. They were silent for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow of their love. Wade, as expected, broke the silence.

“Spider-Man is my fucking soulmate!”

“Speaking of fucking, Wade… How do you feel about fucking me upside down?”

Wade groaned through a smirk as he forced himself up and off the bed, Peter’s laugh ringing pleasantly in his ears.

[riveriafalll]

Writeblr introduction I guess?

Guess what bitches (affectionate) I’ve been here for like six months and I’m finally making a writeblr introduction. I have just vibed within the community for all this time, and I reckon it’s time to actually confirm my existence as an actual writer.

A bit about me: you can call me River, I mainly write fanfiction for quite a few fandoms, I’m a full time student, I use all pronouns (agender bitches for the win) and autistic currently seeking diagnosis.(in this economy? I know, right?)

I’m open for all tag games and asks (please include me, I promise I won’t procrastinate on the tag game until it’s three weeks later and it’s too awkward to post it then)

Here is my master list of wips, categorised by fandom. The majority of these are not being regularly written in, but they all will one day find a home on the archive I promise.

I will link them up to their respective WIP introduction pages as they happen, if you want to hear about one sooner, let me know <3

Harry Potter

No Time to Die: Drarry au where I kill off Draco in the first scene, have many clever plot-fixes and throw in as much LGBTQ rep as I can

Aelia Lovegood - Luna Lovegood has a pyromaniacal twin who is trying to fix racism by punching Nazi children in the face. It’s mostly working

Oh dear it’s a time loop fic - Draco and Hermione are trapped in a time loop, what will they do? (Troll everyone for basically eternity, and try not to go mad)

The fic where Harry is a sociopath, and goes full homicidal mode on Voldemort along with a scary Hermione and a power-hungry Ron - eh the title explains it well enough

when stars collide (a black hole forms) - a person from our world falls into the HP universe, and immediately tries to mother hen her family out of being evil. Callidora is the twin sister of Bellatrix, and spends the next thirty or so years attempting to fix everyone through the power of love. It works most of the time.

Harry Potter and the job he should have gotten - thirteen years after the end of the War, Minerva McGonagall has a staffing crisis and breaks into people’s homes until they agree to teach. Harry/Theo Knott, Hermione/Pansy and Draco girlbossing it by himself while figuring out how to be a single father.

Marvel

Of Godparents and Aunt-sassins - Jokingly, a couple name the godparent of their new child as Loki. No one expects him to except. Ava is a menace, Loki is a gender fluid icon, a wonderful brother and a terrible influence, Natasha is the vodka aunt, Clint is the fun uncle, Cooper Barton is the responsible one, Peter is a tiny adorable baby who gets adopted, and the Avengers live the 2012 Tower life

SHIELD: An Unofficial Guide - based off the SHIELD survival tips blog here on tumblr, written up in a guide-book form, complete with neatly organised chapters and unique anecdotes

A Glitch in the System - Glitch, a winter-widow and the last remanent of HYDRA, is sent to assassinate the Avengers. When she fails, she runs away and meets a certain spider-child on a rooftop. Featuring a teenage Loki, an amnesiac Pietro and a certain blonde widow, who’ve all moved into May Parker’s apartment, and a lot of miscommunication between just about everyone

Loki doki timey wimey - set during Thor:Ragnorok, Tony and co notice that Loki has reappeared on Midgard, and promptly break into Doctor Stranges house to question him. Dr S promptly gets very annoyed by Tony and Lokis inability to get on, and sends them away to the magical equivalent of a get along shirt, which goes wrong and leaves Tony and Loki stranded in a time loop. They’re under the impression that the loop will break when they learn to get along, Dr Strange is doing nothing to disillusion them of that.

(This is the image that my beta once_and_future_fandoms made when I ranted about it to them)

Another life - something I started before the Loki show came out (take that Marvel), starts at the beginning of Infinity War, when a female Loki dies at the hands of Thanos, meets the personification of the universe, merges with the Tesseract, leaving her with a shapeshifting familiar and teleporting powers. She then travels briefly through the multiverse and lands in the OG Marvel universe, with a Tom Hiddleston themed Loki and attempts to fix stuff through the power of having a giant snake and knives.

Bucky and the time he lived in the woods with his murder daughters - Bucky escapes from HYDRA in the 90s with Natasha and Yelena. They live in the mountains of Romania together, learning how to be actual real life people and incidentally becoming cryptida along the way. Natasha and Yelena join SHIELD in their early twenties, and continue happily along their way in the canon plot, until their father James comes to visit the Avengers Tower after the Battle of New York, and bumps into a familiar blonde…

Supernatural

Woahhhh it’s Emmy - Emmy, (long for MJ, short for Mary Junior), is the standard extra Winchester OC, twin sister of Sam, who is almost as bad at talking through her problems as Dean is. While Sam went to Smamford, and Dean ran around with John, Emmy started a weapons dealing company for hunters, travelling around under the guise of an occult shop. She reluctantly joins back up with her brothers in season 1, just to make sure her dumbasses don’t get themselves killed. She solves half of the shows problems with a glock.

Doctor Who

Who the fuck is Sally Sparrow? - Kat Sparrow has grown up knowing that things live in the darkness. The Sparrows are known by all the intelligence agency’s of the world, for their abilities to find and trap those things. Their specialty? Angels. When River Song appears on her doorstep one night, telling her that she has an angel to catch, Kat does the only thing she can, and joins the Doctor, River and Amy in the TARDIS to catch it. Kat thinks it’s fantastic, Amy enjoys having a friend whos roughly her age, and River is cryptic as ever. The Doctor, however, would really like to know how the hell a human girl is capable of subduing the most deadly creature in the universe.

Redo of Sally Sparrow except there’s no Sally Sparrow and a completely different plot line - When River tumbles into the TARDIS at the start of the infamous Maze of the Angels episode, she brings someone else with her - her adopted daughter, Astra. Unknown to 11, Astra is his child from the future, the result of a coupling between 12 and Missy, who was partially raised by both of them and the other half by River. Featuring: Astra is briefly evil and genocidial, Astra gets therapy with 14 and Donna, Astra flirts constantly with half of his companions, River, Missy and 13 all walk into a bar, and the combination of lesbianism causes a rift in time and space, and someone really needs to stop 12 from naming people after his past companions.

The Vampire Diaries

TVDeeznuts - Cassie Gilbert, twin sister of Jeremy, heads off to an out of state boarding school after being compelled by Damon in an attempt to protect the first person to have trusted him unconditionally in the last hundred and fifty years. Yes, he might have been a crow for half of it, but the thought is what counts, right? Unfortunately, being the danger magnet she is, Cassie immediately manages to befriend a local artist by the name of Nik Mikaelson. Three kidnappings later, Cassie is the first honorary Mikaelson since Marcel. Let’s just hope it doesn’t go quite as bad as his did.

Shadow hunters

Making my OCs be adopted by a bunch of vampires has nothing to do with my parental issues I promise - Autumn, a rather shy twelve year old, is Turned into a vampire rather unexpectedly by a less than stable Maureen who wants to be best friends forever. She immediately attaches herself to Raphael, who is horrified, but ultimately decides that he can use the situation to gaslight Magnus into believing that she’s always been around. Autumn has no objections, Lily thinks it hilarious, and Elliot is just happy to have a little sister.

Shadow hunting my multiple mental illnesses - Astoria Fray is perfectly normal. She does her homework, eats far too many chips, and goes out to parties with her best friends Lily, Elliot and Raphael. And then her mom gets kidnapped, her sister goes missing, her uncle won’t talk to her, and a very sparkly man tells her that he’s a friend of her mothers and that she can stay at his place. And as if that wasn’t enough, turns out that she’s not human, her dad is shadow hunter Hitler, and vampires, werewolf’s and warlocks are real.

At least Lily and Raphael are still normal. Right?

we'll never get free (lamb to the slaughter) - Magnus Bane is forced to baby-sit a precocious, morally-grey Warlock child. It goes about as well as you'd imagine.

Fourth Wing

Fourth wing more like fortieth wip - Elyrion Melgren (currently going under the name Elyrion Foxe) lived in Tyrrendor for the first fourteen years of her life, while her father led the armies of Navarre, spending her days exploring the city with her best friend Xaden. Six years later, she hasn’t seen Xaden since the apostasy, and has been forbidden by her father to go into the Riders, as he doesn’t want her to interact with the Marked Ones. Elyrion promptly ignores his orders, crosses Parapet, and joins the revolution.

Throne of Glass

Cadre Coparenting - what could go wrong? -Two years after Aelin Galathynius was born, her sister, Aurelia arrived. Born with powers of darkness and death, Evalin and Rhoe have no choice but to send her to the only person with experience in controlling powers like hers - her Aunt, Maeve. Maeve promptly passes the child off to her loyal bloodsworn until she’s old enough to be useful to her. Between the six of them, the Cadre just about manage to raise a singular child, despite Aurelia's best attempts to be difficult. It’s entirely her fault that half of Doranelle now believes that Lorcan and Rowan are divorced, and co-parenting their daughter together with Gavriel and Vaughan, their new partners, and Fenrys and Connall, her brothers.

Twilight

Twi-mental breakdown-light - Twilight if Bella had a precocious ten year old sister, and Edward and Bella raise her in aroace solidarity. Esme is delighted that she finally gets a grandchild, and Emmett is not responsible enough to baby sit.

[hawkinsmafia]

𝔼𝕦𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕦𝕝𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕣: 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝔸𝕝𝕡𝕙𝕒𝕓𝕖𝕥

day 18 : Freak

featuring Eugene Faulkner x reader (no assumed gender)

rating: general

cw: self-esteem issues, unhealthy conflict resolutions, way too much author projection (whoops)

wc: 2.3k

an: written for @corrodedcoffinfest! it’s honestly a crime how little characterization this guy was given in the canon. just as much screen time as Gareth and Jeff, more lines than Jeff, and they can’t even give him a name?? ‘freak 1’, that’s all he gets?? we can do better than that. please enjoy my fluffy fluffy relationship thoughts about my big boy in leather, Eugene Faulkner.

𝔸𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 :: How does Eugene spend free time with his partner?

⟢ Eugene is the king of the casual hangout. He’s very chill, low-energy, doesn’t like a lot of stress or pressure. You might just veg out watching TV or listening to new albums together. He likes to write fiction stories, and would love to share his latest work with you. If the weather is nice and not too hot, you might go for a stroll around the neighborhood. One thing’s for sure, though: whatever you do together will be a nice way to relax and de-stress.

𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕪 :: What does Eugene admire about his partner?

⟢ Eugene isn’t too bothered about physical appearance, he gravitates toward kindness and compassion. He’s been bullied his whole life, and his parents can be pretty harsh on him, too. He’s seen a lot of ugliness in people, and your gentleness is such a welcome change.

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eugene help his partner when they’re struggling?

⟢ Hope you like physical touch, because you’re getting bear hugged. Eugene gives great hugs, the kind that make your mind go blank for a few seconds and you can feel the stress relief flowing just beneath your skin. When you’re feeling anxious or overwhelmed, Eugene will wrap you up in his arms and pull you in so tight, might even lift you off the ground if he’s able, and make the world melt away for a little while.

𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 :: What is Eugene’s first date with his partner like?

⟢ I’ve been waiting all month to say this: BOOKSTORE DATE. You meet him at Waldenbooks and spend a couple hours following each other through the stacks, sharing your favorite books (have you ever heard of Dragonriders of Pern? You’re about to!), the genres you both enjoy the most (high fantasy dominates his shelves, with a touch of sci-fi and a sprinkling of horror), and the book that fucked you both up the most (his is Flowers in the Attic). If you show an interest in any of his recommendations, he’ll buy it for you. Afterward, since the bookstore jaunt went so well, he suggests walking over to the deli for a nosh.

𝔼𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕝 :: Is Eugene more dominant or submissive in his relationship?

⟢ He leans more submissive. He doesn’t have a lot of confidence, and he doesn’t want to come across as too forceful or opinionated. He’d rather let you make the final decision. And if you’re not a decisive person either, prepare to get stuck in that “idk what do you wanna do?” loop a lot.

𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 :: What is it like when Eugene and his partner argue?

⟢ You don’t, full stop. Eugene tends to be a little bit of a doormat, he’s quick to apologize if he’s upset you somehow, he doesn’t often speak up if you’ve done something that bothers him…. It’s not the healthiest approach to building a relationship, but Eugene’s parents fight a lot, with a lot of yelling and finger-pointing, and he’s terrified of becoming like them.

𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 :: Does Eugene acknowledge how much his partner does for him?

⟢ Okay, so, here’s the thing: Eugene is well aware of how much you do for him, but he doesn’t always acknowledge it openly. He lacks confidence and self-esteem, and, as previously mentioned, his communication skills in relationships are a little impaired because of his parents’ failing marriage. The combination of these things means he has a fear that by constantly thanking you for everything you do, it’ll highlight how infrequently you return the sentiment, which will lead to you realizing how little he brings to the table (in his mind), which will lead to you coming to your senses and realizing you can do so much better than him, and you’ll dump him. A relationship with Eugene is going to require effort, and you’ll need to have a lot of patience while he’s undergoing construction.

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕪 :: Does Eugene keep secrets from his partner or does he share everything?

⟢ Not a whole lot of secrets to be kept, really, when it comes to Eugene. He’s not one for acting out or stirring up trouble, not gonna have any moments of social flirtation that went a smidge too far to hide from you. The things he keeps from you are more likely to be things that he’s embarrassed of and thinks will make him seem pathetic in your eyes—like getting a third rejection letter on his latest short story, or finding out his favorite jeans won’t button up anymore.

𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: Has Eugene’s partner inspired him to grow or change in any way?

⟢ Oh yes, absolutely. If you’re able to hang in there and handle his work-in-progress growth, you’ll find yourself with a whole new Eugene. You give him confidence and security. You help him to see the good things in himself that let him develop some self-esteem.

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪 :: How does Eugene handle jealousy in his relationship?

⟢ Not well, I won’t lie. If he ever sees you flirting with someone else (or if he thinks you’re flirting), he’s prone to assuming the worst. He doesn’t get angry or cause a scene—he won’t become his father—but he might spend the next few hours or days moping and steeling himself for the inevitable breakup that he’s certain is headed his way. If the situation is reversed and you’re the jealous one, he’s just absolutely baffled that you think that other person would even consider flirting with him.

𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤 :: Is Eugene a good kisser?

⟢ …Nope. No, he is not. Minuscule experience has not let him develop technique and lack of confidence makes him nervous and tentative. It’s gonna take some time to train this boy up into kissing you decently.

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 :: How does Eugene confess his love to his partner?

⟢ He doesn’t. Gareth does it, because he’s had just about all he can take of Eugene’s pining and slack-jawed, lovesick gaze from across the room. After a few weeks of increasingly frustrated encouragement to just walk over there and talk to you, which Eugene always shot down immediately, Gareth finally marched right up to you (to Eugene’s absolute horror) and announced that his friend is borderline obsessed with you to an unhealthy degree, and would you please either just go over there and talk to him or tell him to fuck off so he can get over you?

𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕘𝕖 :: Would Eugene want to marry his partner?

⟢ This is a sticky one. Eugene’s parents’ marriage wasn’t a very happy one as far back as he can remember, and it only got worse over time. He has a fear that marriage will breed resentment and that you’ll fall out of love just like his parents did. But at the same time, Eugene will do damn near anything to make you happy. If marriage is something that you really want and you make that plain to him, it might take a few years, but he’ll come around to the idea.

ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 :: What does Eugene call his partner?

⟢ He uses the most simpering, overly-precious pet names. Snookums. Honey bear. Love muffin. (And, look, let’s be honest here. That is a boy who would earnestly call his femme partner ‘milady’. We all know it’s true.)

𝕆𝕟 ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕕 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖 :: What is Eugene like when he’s in love?

⟢ A lovesick mess. If he’s crushing on you from afar, he’s gazing dreamily your way during class or sound check (and he’s trying to be subtle and not-creepy…). He’s putting characters into his stories with your name or your description, making them into a badass, flattering reflection of you. Your name is accidentally slipping into his speech in place of other words (ie, “Which road do I turn onto?” “[Your name] Avenue.” “…What?” “I said Fairbanks Avenue.” “No you didn’t…”). If you’ve advanced past the crush stage and you’re together, it only gets worse. You’re the only thing he can talk about, he asks to invite you along for every outing with his friends, it’s absolutely nauseating.

ℙ𝔻𝔸 :: Does Eugene openly share affection with his partner, or is he more private?

⟢ Eugene leans more toward privacy than his bandmates. It’s not that PDA turns him off or anything, it’s just that he’s spent a fair amount of time getting bullied and he knows what will attract negative attention, and the last thing he wants is the humiliation of you having to watch as he’s mocked and laughed at—or worse, watching you become a target as well for being with him.

ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕜 :: What’s a random action Eugene performs for his partner?

⟢ Eugene is a writer, as I mentioned before. He writes poetry and short fiction, and has vague ideas of a fantasy novel series percolating around in his head. So stemming from this, he loves to surprise you with little drabbles. They might be about a little fictionalized version of you, or maybe about your D&D character and their solo adventures, or even some of his own OCs that you just happened to get invested in. It’s his favorite way to cheer you up and make you smile.

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 :: How romantic is Eugene?

⟢ He’s very romantic, but in quiet ways. Where Jeff likes to make a show of his love for his partner, Eugene’s actions are much more subtle. It comes in little things like leaving you the last cookie, or making sure your favorite drink is always in his fridge, or slipping little love notes into your bag for you to find later. He writes a beautiful dedication to you in the liner notes of CC’s next album. And he never, ever forgets your birthday, even when he’s on the road touring.

𝕊𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 :: How does Eugene help his partner achieve their goals?

⟢ He’s always right there to catch you anytime you fall. If you scored badly on an important assignment, or stuck your foot in it at work, or were late to a big meeting, he will always make himself available for you to vent it out. You can cry, whine, yell, be selfish—doesn’t matter, he gives you the space to let your emotions emote. And when you’ve gotten all the anger and frustration and sadness out, he’s got a big ol’ cuddle session ready to go to pick you back up and get you ready to face tomorrow.

𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕝𝕝 :: Does Eugene like to experiment and try new things, or does he prefer familiarity?

⟢ Trying new things can make Eugene nervous. He’s a creature of habit and likes sticking with the things he knows he likes and is comfortable with. He knows chicken tendies don’t upset his tummy, he knows wearing black doesn’t attract unwanted attention, he knows this chain of movie theaters has spacious seating where the arm rests don’t dig into his hips… Trying something new? Can’t be sure of the outcome, might risk embarrassment or displeasure. Better not.

𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How well does Eugene know his partner?

⟢ Better than you initially realize, but it’s blatantly obvious when you start realizing where to look. Again, it’s in the small things—like knowing you hate walking to the apartment dumpster after dark, so he takes out the trash for you, or noticing you always pick the tomatoes off your burgers, so he starts ordering your food with no tomatoes. He saw you pour the last of the milk into your coffee this morning, so he stops by the market on the way home to pick up a fresh carton. It’s not something often spoken aloud, but Eugene is always learning more about you.

𝕍𝕒𝕝𝕦𝕖 :: How important is Eugene’s relationship to him?

⟢ Pretty goddamn important. His social circle has always been small, his friend group even smaller, and he knows (or thinks he knows) he’s no great catch. The fact that he even has a relationship with you at all is a small miracle in his opinion, and he doesn’t want to lose that blessing.

𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕕 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕 :: A random fluffy headcanon.

⟢ It’s a little-known fact that Eugene is a fantastic cook. Even his bandmates have only had little samplings of his skills (because he knows that if they knew what he can do, Eddie and Gareth would never stop demanding homemade pasta). And he loves to bring you into the kitchen to prepare food with him. Even if you’re not much of a cook yourself, he’ll show you how to use a vegetable peeler and teach you how to cream butter and sugar with the mixer. He’ll put his hands over yours to guide you in the proper motions for kneading dough. It’s all very cute and he loves getting to share one of his secret talents with you.

𝕏𝕆𝕏𝕆 :: Does Eugene like to be affectionate with his partner?

⟢ Absolutely, Eugene craves affection more than anyone else in the band. His stance on PDA means affection in public is limited to hand-holding, a casually intimate hand on the small of your back, maybe a quick smooch. But in more exclusive venues, Gareth is throwing empty soda cans at him and telling you two to get a room.

𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 :: How does Eugene cope when he’s missing his partner?

⟢ Total sadsack. One would think you’d gone to fight in the war, status unknown, instead of just taking off for the weekend to go help your sister move into a new apartment three counties away. You might come home to a three-page love poem set to music, or a surprise dinner of your favorite foods. (And just ignore the T-shirt you know you put into the hamper before you left, now crumpled among the pillows in your bedroom…)

ℤ𝕖𝕒𝕝 :: To what lengths would Eugene go for his relationship?

⟢ He’ll do just about anything you ask if it means keeping you happy and content. Marry you, move across the country with you, bring you on tour with him… even if it means you’ll have to share a tour bus toilet with Eddie.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Holly, ivy and my best friend's brother

AN: Here’s a little (late) festive drabble for dear @chrisdrysdale as part of the Thot Neighbourhood’s Tis the Season to be Thot-y gift exchange.

Beta'd by @lunarbuck and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Relationship: Pre-war Bucky x Reader (Becca’s best friend)

WC: 1k

CW: Fluff, mutual pining, minor angst, first kiss, minor innuendo

“Bunny! Get down from there!” 

The ladder wobbled under your feet as you reached up to try and hang the garland of greenery. It suddenly stilled, and without looking, you knew who to thank.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Your tongue crept out of your mouth as you leaned over a bit more, confident that the ladder was more secure now, with your best friend Becca’s older brother hanging onto it. 

With a small cry of success, the hanging loop on the back of the garland caught on the nail on the wall, and you started your careful descent. Two steps from the bottom and you felt Bucky’s warm and work-roughened hands settle on your waist, practically lifting you off and placing you on terra-firma. You tried to think chaste thoughts; he was off limits after all.

“What were you doing up there? You shoulda got me to do the climbing, Bun-bun.”

“Oh, pish, Bucky Barnes. If you know me at all, and you know me plenty, then you know that I’m not one of those who gets a man to do things just for the sake of appearing like a lady. If I can do it myself, I’ll do it myself.”

“You’ll get your neck broken, that’s what you’ll do, and then I won’t hear the end of it from Becca.”

You, Becca, and Bucky were busy decorating the community hall for the upcoming Christmas festivities. You and Becca had volunteered, and Winifred Barnes had insisted that Bucky accompany you to do any of the ‘heavy lifting’. The local ladies social group had put together lots of garlands and swags over the last couple of days, and they just needed to be mounted up on the walls and across the beams. Unfortunately, you, well Bucky actually, had run out of nails, so Becca had volunteered to go down to the hardware store and see if she could sweet talk young Joe behind the counter to let her have a few. You were well aware that she’d be more than happy to pay with a kiss if she had to.

But that had left you and Bucky here by yourselves, sorting out what you could while you waited. It shouldn’t have been a problem; you’d known each other for years as you’d made the Barnes household your second home. It was him who’d given you your nickname as well, for how scared you’d looked on your first visit to their noisy home. Unfortunately though, Bucky had grown from being your friend’s annoying older brother into your friend’s extremely attractive and charming older brother.

Whenever he was close to you or turned his swoon-inducing smile toward you, you just wanted a hole to open up and swallow you whole because you were so far out of his league it hurt. He had all the girls lining up for their chance to step out with him, and he always picked the pretty ones, the ones with the nice dresses, the beautiful haircuts. The ones who looked down on you, despite your closeness to the young man they all admired. Or maybe because of it? Either way, Bucky never looked at you in the way you wished he would. He thought of you as just another sister.

“So you wouldn’t miss me then?” You kept your tone light and playful, despite the ache deep in your chest. In two steps he was by your side, arm slung over your shoulder. 

“Of course I’d miss my best girl.”

Your heart lurched, but you kept your smile on your face and gave him a friendly shove. He didn’t budge though, and just pouted.

“Don’t be mean, Bunny, or you won’t get one of the candy canes I’ve got in my pocket.”

“Then stop with the idle flattery. Best girl, indeed.”

“But it’s not idle flattery if I mean it. And I do mean it, Bunny.”

Your smile dropped, and you pushed away harder, escaping his hug this time. You took a step away and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“You can’t say things like that to me, Bucky. It’s not fair. I’m not one of your pretty conquests.” Your voice trembled with the effort of not letting your emotions overrun you.

The next moment, he was behind you, enfolding you in his arms. You thought your heart was going to jump out of your throat. You could smell him, a mixture of hair pomade, simple soap, and his own earthy muskiness. You could also feel how the energy in the room had changed from the usual playfulness that was between you and Bucky to something else entirely.

“No, you’re not. And I’d never treat you like one of them either. You’re too precious to me, Bun.”

“Stop playin’ with me. Please don’t break my heart like this.” Your eyes were burning. Why was he doing this to you? And why couldn’t you just break free and walk away? “You’re a cruel man, James Barnes. It’s bad enough that you figure out how I feel, but to then make fun of me…”

“I’m not making fun. I’m trying to tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

He spun you in his arms so you were face to face. You wobbled with the momentum and reached out for stability to find your hands fisted in his shirt. You were almost nose to nose, your mouths closer than you’d ever hoped for.

“That you’re so special. So kind and caring and beautiful. And far too good for me. I’ve tried to keep my distance. You’re Becca’s friend, and I should think of you like a sister, but god help me, I can’t. I live for seeing you smile, hearing you laugh. I love you, Bunny.”

The small space between you finally closed, and his lips were on yours, soft and sweet. It only lasted a few moments, but when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Bucky. But I gotta ask, is that really a candy cane in your pocket?”

But Bucky just chuckled and kissed you again.

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @poppunksnowwhite @pono-pura-vida

[t4tieflings]

Pathologic “Multiplayer” AU

I’ve been obsessing over the idea of a Pathologic Time Loop story for the last couple of days, so I thought I’d share. So the premise is: instead of a traditional time loop centered on any one character, its shared between the three protagonists in a kind of “binding” of the protagonist role.  Clara accidentally gets taken out by a thug in an alley? Welp guess Artemy and Danill are yanked back to day one.  Daniil, a twiggy doctor, actually can’t handle staging a prison break? Well I guess Artemy technically got broken out of prison by being yanked back to the train on day one And dear Artemy was stupid enough to take Oyun at his word and jump to his demise? Oh the other healers are going to have some choice words for him once they figure out which one of them is responsible for this reset.  I’ve been considering having their health and other “stats” of sorts shared too, which is what allows them to find each other. Which is all normal for Artemy cause his state at the beginning of the plague is pretty awful but the idea of Daniil and Clara just keeling over the minute  Artemy “I did not bring any food with me on a several day long train ride and then promptly got stabbed multiple times” Burakh enters the town, definitely provides them with some incentive to figure out whats causing their declining health. (Also you have that delicious angst when they eventually become begrudging allies and then get a shock of pain that isn’t theirs and then a shock of worry that is theirs as they know one of them is in danger)  But what, pray tell, could cause this kind of time loop. Well, seeing as Pathologic does like to play with the fact that it is a video game and some characters are aware of this. I think it’d be fun for this to be on a meta level the bad attempts of a “player” to make a pathologic multiplayer mod to just mess around in. But seeing as Pathologic is definitely not built for that experience, the process got wonky and made every player share a health pool, so if one player messes up all of them do. So the process of the healers begrudgingly come to work together in a way that the traditional game doesn’t allow, is also in part a necessity of the “players” behind them having to work together and communicate far beyond what you’d need to in the base game.  Throw in an extra meta level of Mark Immortell trying to push the game back into its traditional structure and keep “the script” on track (ie. the game glitching and not completely working with the mod) and I think you have the potential for a cool if maybe a bit ridiculous story about fighting fate and co-operation.  Also who doesn’t want Clara, Artemy and Daniil to more interactions and maybe come to an understanding in the end

[sydney-the-faithful]

((Isfgdou;ijlsffiyzglhduljk I was so hype when I saw this blog drop your answers so far are all so delightful and ic and make me smile sm <3 I have no idea if this acct is open for RP with PCs /ic oc asks but I wanted to give it a go anyway-))

I have to admit, I was fairly excited to see you'd made an account here. We're both always busy and tired, so it can be hard to talk as much as I'd like.

I've been reading into Floriography lately for writing purposes and was suddenly curious if you have any favourite plants? (I wonder if I'd have any use for flower codes in the modern day...)

~ @crimson--phantom

((DDGSGHSHDHH IM SO GLAD!!! <3 Staying in character has been my biggest concern, so ur feedback means a lot!! This acc is totally open for RPs w/ PCs & in character OC asks! I have rp accounts for my own OCs, so I’m glad to be of service to others!!! (TBH tho i’m way out of the loop when it comes to others in the DOL/DOL RP sphere, so I’m hyped to meet and learn about everyone’s characters that I’ve never even seen ;w;...)))

Clara! Hello! It’s a pleasure to hear from you :) This site is fun so far, if not a complete waste of time… You’re right about that, though! It certainly is good for communicating and staying in touch. Dad always reminds me it’d be good to take a break and do nothing for a bit, so I’m practicing that.

Ah, floriography is so charming! The old language of flowers <3 I must admit… today, I’d be happy with any old flower, no matter the meaning behind it. Kind gestures like that seem a world away sometimes, hahaha.

As for a favourite…

Live plants, I prefer something low maintenance. A splash of green or color to make the house and garden look nice, but something that Dad and I don’t have to constantly fuss over.

Picked/in general? I like anything. Chrysanthemums, Hyacinths. Roses, as common as they are, always have a place in my heart! Like I said, I’m not picky. I just find plants cool :)

[andro-dino]

More Takanosuke and Sakyo parent Headcanons for my aching soUl???

oh this gives me an opportunity to talk about canela too woohoo

Overall I get very emotional abt them as parents but Sakyo especially bc the kurayami family (in my lore) is one long plagued by generational trauma instilled by the dragon clan and Ryoma was able to recognize that and get away from the clan, but he wasn’t able to break the cycle despite the fact that he was trying to, accidentally perpetuating it instead. Sakyo, however, despite feeling the impact of it, was also able to recognize that what he was doing wasn’t great and instead WAS able to work to actively improve himself to the point that by the time canela came around, he HAD broken the cycle and canela was the first kurayami in a while to really be free of that generational loop and that is so important to me.

With all that, Sakyo as a parent is very open and communicative (another big contrast to Ryoma) and he does everything in his power to make sure canela knows they are always loved and supported. This communication also extends to his relationship with Takanosuke and how their marriage is. Drawing back to Sakyo’s parents again, takanosuke and Sakyo’s relationship is extremely similar to how Victoria and Ryoma’s was, but Ryoma despite everything had notably been rather closed off about a lot of the more serious things he had been dealing with, leading to a sort of barrier between that was never fully broken, which kinda also worsened Victoria’s grief when he passed. Sakyo by contrast vowed to be a lot more open with Takanosuke and he’s stuck true to that. In all fairness, by their adulthood, Takanosuke can also read him like an open book, but the two of them communicate very openly and directly with each other and it makes for a very good relationship. I like to think also bc I headcanon both of them as autistic that both of them just prefer to communicate very directly without beating around the bush, which helps avoid a lot of conflict in their relationship.

A big thing with Canela is how much they enjoy researching beyblade history n stuff, especially when it comes to the dragon clan, and it’s a very good bonding thing for her and Sakyo because Sakyo is very open about the fact that he himself doesn’t know much about the clan, so it’s a chance for both of them to learn more about their culture and grow closer with each other as well as a result. Takanosuke’s not left out of this either as he also enjoys helping them out with their research and the two of them like sharing their findings with him afterwards (though Sakyo lets canela take the lead a lot of the time because of how passionate she is about it). Something that I actually have thought a little bit about is at some point, probably when they’re in their early teens, Canela gets little insecure about both not being an active blader and with that, not having a dragon bey (her bey is Bandit Icarus (solely bc I thought it was cool and I wanted to give someone an Icarus bey lmao)), and at some point, opens up about that to Sakyo, thinking that she’s a disappointment in some way. In response, Sakyo reassures her that he is always proud of them and that he could never be disappointed in her no matter what, and it’s an important moment for Canela and their relationship.

In general I think both Takanosuke and Sakyo are just pretty cool dads. Their relationship with canela is very open and she feels very comfortable telling them anything and they get along exceptionally well. I like to think that a lot of their friends actually didn’t expect them to be such good parents but like yeah they’re kinda awesome at it. Canela is also definitely their little princess always and they would do anything for them.

Another thought that I think would be fun, I’ve seen with like a lot of parents who raise their kids to be bilingual, one parent will speak primarily in one language and the other parent will speak mainly the other language, and I like to think that’s how they did it for Canela and teaching her Spanish. Sakyo was the one to speak mostly in Spanish bc while I think Takanosuke’s probably better at it by the time he’s an adult, Sakyo is definitely still the more fluent of the two. There’s this one couple I’ve seen online who are raising their daughter that way and her dad is the one speaking English and she will get very upset with him if he tries to speak Spanish to her and I think that is very funny and it would be very silly if canela did the same with takanosuke for a while.

[ticklytums]

Glowing Freckles

(King just intends on keeping The Collector entertained and busy, but he doesn’t expect a conversation that will leave him contemplating just what his relationship is with his ‘forever friend’, and just who this lunar child really is.)

It was quite a task keeping a being of pure chaos relatively leashed, or distracted enough by slightly less deadly games for the sake of The Boiling Isles at least. King honestly felt more like an irritated older brother at times trying to wrangle a young sibling. He’d always kind of wanted to have a younger sibling…and now he no longer wanted that.

Doesn't this crazy kid like to do anything that’s not potentially deadly? Oh, his insane games! The Floor Is Lava (more like scalding hot chocolate!), Knife Monopoly! Tight rope walking above sticky molasses! He at least liked the colossal ball pit, but he’d also almost suffocated.

The little titan sighed as he sat on some multicoloured rubber. Of course The Collector wanted his own castle, Belos’ bone fortress finding itself knocked down like a tower of preschool blocks, and the kid erecting his own..bouncy castle.

King hated it. It made him so dizzy and he wobbled just standing on it. He always had to sit down. The walls were decorated with doodles he’d done in his spare time…and they walked across them in animated motions. The corner of the large room had a large stash of things the celestial collected, from the most innocent trinkets, to…living creatures.

He always tried to sneak away to see his family, but the possessive kid always brought him back here. At least for now he knew they were okay, taking care of the citizens when they could, and trying to devise a plan to at least depower this cosmic terror. King tried to be a distraction, and save as many people as he could from being looped into the kid’s games.

“I’m boooored.”

Oh crap. King looked over to see his companion hanging there in the air, idly switching around the heads of a cockatrice and a rat worm as if they were dolls. He looked down at his new scroll he’d been using to communicate with his mother, tapping the screen as he tried to think of something for the two of them to do. NOT Knife Monopoly!

“Uhhh hey! I’ve got a new app on my scroll if you wanna try it out! It’s called Rot Rush, and…I can teach you how to play?”

The Collector seemed intrigued and hovered downwards. “An app, huh? Well…a game is a game, I guess I’ll give it a look!” He plopped into a sitting position next to the titan baby and smiled. “How do you play?”

“See these pieces of rotten candy? You have to line them up, and when you do, they explode into little slimy sprinkles!” King told him. He tapped the screen, pixelated colored bits flying everywhere.

To his relief, The Collector’s ruby eyes widened in delight as he excitedly tapped at the icons. King was surprised to see the score numbers quickly fly high. “And when you get that sour slime bomb, you can use it to get rid of a bunch of rows.”

He watched the other child play, so innocent seeming in this moment as he giggled and tapped at the screen. For a moment it was almost easy to forget all the utter discord he’d been responsible for, and just how dangerous he could be.

The titan chuckled as he watched the score number climb even higher, and just in a sibling-reflex-moment, nudged playfully against the other godling. “Hey, you beat my score! Uncool, man.”

His horn had wound up lightly jabbing the child’s side and King blinked as The Collector squealed a bit and covered his midsection. Well that was…surprising.

The star child held his belly for a moment before sitting back beside King again, leaning against him slightly. “What else, what else? Show me more!”

“Uh well…I got this other one called Biscuit Race. You basically guide these little biscuits to the finish line, but you’ve got to avoid all the monsters trying to eat them. It’s got pretty cool lore too,” he mused, watching as the cosmic kid guided the pixel cookie through every trap and enemy. He chuckled a bit, rather impressed with the other’s ability to pick up even digital games so easily.

“Geez, you’re uh, pretty good at these games, Collector.”

“Heh, you don’t have to keep calling me Collector,” The Collector laughed. “It gets boring after a while. I kind of like ‘The Huntsman’ that those weirdos came up with.” He missed the way King stiffened.

“…Any others?” he asked quietly.

“Eclipse is another favorite,” he hummed. “Or Clips! Those that are my friends usually call me that!” He refused to acknowledge the fact the only ‘friend’ he actually had was King.

The titan child relaxed and sighed. “Yeah, okay. Uh, Eclipse or Clips it is then! Oh I get it…’cause of the moon thing, heh.” He watched the child as he flicked the biscuit people deliberately into the jaws of the rotting jelly beasts now, making a face as he giggled. Well…as long as it was digital creatures he was finding ways to torment.

“I don’t wanna play this one anymore.”

Oh crap. “Oh uh, I got tons of other apps!”

Eclipse was instead looking at his collection of things in the corner. “Ou, hey! I see knives!”

WELP this wasn’t good. The titan baby needed to think of something to dissuade the chaotic kid from stabbier entertainment. “Weh! No! We don’t have to do that, I’ve got something better in mind!”

“Ughhh, what?!” Eclipse growled as he begrudgingly hovered back to King. “What could you want now? What’s more fun than knife games?!”

King could feel the beads of sweat sticking to his fur as his frenzied mind scrambled to think of something on the spot. Narrowed ruby eyes were watching him suspiciously, and suddenly King recalled the unexpected and promising reaction the other child had when he’d nudged him before. So with quick on the spot thinking, he poked him in the belly.

Eclipse squeaked and his hands jumped to protect his belly instinctively. His eyes narrowed more shrewdly, and curiously. “What are you doing?!”

It was a long and tense moment, the two just staring each other down and anticipating their next move. In a sudden jump, King leaped onto the kid, and the star child yelped as his arms pinwheeled, failing to keep him on his feet. For once King was grateful for the bouncy floor, because it sent Eclipse sprawling fairly easily.

He wound up with the titan child on him. “What are you—AHAHAHA!” The immediate shriek of laughter seemed to surprise them both. King stopped and blinked for a moment. This was…a very shocking development, but he supposed he shouldn’t be that surprised. Eclipse was a kid, and he loved games and laughter. It only made sense that he was ticklish.

He felt smug, and vengeful even…with every right to. So the kid wanted to play, huh? Well…King could certainly play alright. It wasn’t often he had an advantage like this with the cosmic kid.

Feeling a bit empowered now, King smirked and his claws dug more at Eclipse’s belly. Even over his romper, he felt that, and he felt that bad.

Laughter squealed and bubbled out of The Collector as King continued to dig at him, his claws raking along his ribs and finding he received the most shrieking sounds when he tickled around his belly, so he stayed there. Eclipse’s feet were kicking against the ground trying to bear the sensations.

“WAHAHAIT, NAHAHAT GIGGLE SPAHASMS!”

King couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “Giggle spasms, huh? Geez, you sure seem weak to them!” It was a bit surreal to him actually that he had The Boiling Isle’s biggest threat losing his mind with laughter under a tickling barrage. …And it was adorable too.

The Collector was a godling of the cosmos, unpredictable and terrifying, but moments like this was a stark reminder that…he was also just what King was, a child.

And oh, was this kid ever a sensitive child! Locked away in isolation and deprived of touch for eons, his threshold was not prepared to deal with such a sudden onslaught!  It was as torturous as it was fun for him!

“Never expected a godlike being to be so darn ticklish,” King chuckled. He knew his wiggly claws were formidable instruments, easily taking apart his sister. Not as easy for his mother (she was a tough nut to crack), but it seemed this kid was just as susceptible. “This is kind of adorable!” he had to admit. Was this what he had to do when he got out of hand?

Clips snorted and hiccuped into his little hands, unable to pout at the other as he was teased, and a dual colored flush came to his cheeks. “YOU SHUHUT UP!” he snorted out.

King rose a brow and dug punishingly into the child’s sides for that one, prompting another squeal. “Ya know, maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to sass the one that’s got you at their mercy, huh buddy?” Felt like a bit of a nice payback for all the trouble he’d caused him.

Eclipse tossed his head to the side, giggling madly, and trying to tug his hat over his face. King noticed that the child didn’t seem to be making a huge effort to try and get away. In fact he almost seemed to be trying to lean more into it.

After a moment of his attack, a very devious idea came to the little titan’s mind. “Huh! Ya know, we should try a new game! I played this one with my family a— a lot.” He felt his throat ache a bit thinking of them all, but tried to force it back, as he always did. “It’s called ‘Buried Treasure!’”

Eclipse tried to sit up, as much as he could laying down.  He looked excited. “We’re going to look for buried treasure?”

“Yep!” King’s eyes glinted deviously. He was looking forward to shattering this kid’s hopes and dreams. “Well, I am!” And then he suddenly hopped on all fours, still pinning the child down. A claw drew a criss-crossed pattern along Eclipse’s tummy. The sensation brought a confused, slightly giggling grin.

“King, what are you-“

“X marks the spot!” King exclaimed with a battle cry. Suddenly both his claws and feet exploded in a flurry of movement as they dug and kicked at the child’s belly, as if he was a puppy digging for a bone. Even his tusks got involved, nudging against the kid’s romper.

And the little godling. Lost. His. Mind. Screaming laughter exploded from him, his feet pinwheeling the air and beating at the ground. “NAHAHAHA YOU LIAHAR! THAT’S NOT TREASURE!”

“I don’t know buddy, it’s making me pretty happy.”

He shrieked and he hiccuped adorably, eyes wetting as his flush grew. He was clearly at his limit but he didn’t want it to end, as he never did any game or any time he was in physical contact with his friend. Who knew the next time he’d feel any sense of touch from…someone again!

“Hehe, good to know that the way to defeat you is a few pokes in the belly!”

Clips giggled. “Whahat do you mean defeat?”

Uh oh. King’s eyes widened a bit and he chuckled nervously. “O-oh, you know. Just in like, games and stuff, pssh. Whoa hey, what are your cheeks doing?” King asked warily. Eclipse reached down to pat his cheeks and blinked as he touched the illuminated star freckles.

“Th-thehey haven’t done that in a while!” he exclaimed, blushing a bit as he touched the freckles. “They glow when I’m really happy.” Eclipse smiled sadly as he slowly sat up. “Heh, it’s been a long time since I’ve really felt that.”

“…Tickles?”

“Just touch.”

“Oh.” He didn’t expect that response, or the punch to the gut it gave him. It was an uncomfortable feeling that left the baby titan faltering on what to say next as he mulled on the…depressing implications of the other’s simple response. Eclipse was dangerous and in stone for a reason, that much was clear…but he never really thought about the ramifications that would have on someone’s mind. …Mainly because he was too worried about keeping others safe to contemplate The Collector’s mental state.

…But come to think of it, he was just kind of like that though, wasn’t he? It suddenly occurred to him, the odd behavior of the cosmic kid when he was with him. He was…very touchy. Absent touches like leaning against him, picking him up, randomly swinging him… He just…liked touch, it seemed. At least with him, he lacked personal space completely.

“You…don’t get much inside of a rock,” he said quietly. “And…Philip wasn’t very reciprocative of any I gave him. Oh, oh! But I did jump out at him a few times from the shadows and tackled him.”

King gave a snort of disbelief. “Okay I’m…gonna need stories about that at a later date, but…when uh, when was the last time you did have any…positive interaction with someone then? Besides…me?” Even though it had been more one sided until now.

Clips didn’t respond, but his gaze trailed to look the baby titan up and down slowly, and something in his eyes just said it all.

“Oh. I see.” King’s jaw went tight as he wrapped his arms around himself. Part of him wanted to angrily demand what had happened, and what the godling had done with his biological family, and the other part didn’t think he could stomach it. Another thought was swimming now too. The last positive touch had been with other titans? His family? …What had gone so wrong? Eclipse spoke up before he could though, with yet another punch to the gut.

“…What’s family like?”

“Wh-what?”

“Before, when we were playing you mentioned you played that game with your family. What’s family like?” the child wondered earnestly, his cheek leaning on his knees a bit.

King felt his eyes mist over a bit as he thought of the brown haired girl that would giggle and chase him about the couch—only for the two of them to run into Eda’s stomach, giggling themselves to tears as she’d swing them about. Or the time he and his sister had crept up on their aunt while she was doing the dishes, spooking her into face planting the bubbles. Tummy rubs and stories and long hugs and laughter…

“…The…best thing you could ever have. Beats having a kingdom, beats unlimited magic. Nothing is better than family.” And I miss it… He subtly wiped his eyes and looked over at the cosmic child. “You never had anything like that?”

The expression on Eclipse’s face was almost soul shattering, bringing on more questions that he probably wasn’t prepared to hear the answer to. “I thought I did.” His little slippers shuffled against the ground and absently kicked at the rubber. “…But, when you have the kind of power I do, that’s all people ever see, ya know?” he mumbled. “It’s…all they ever want.”

Unseen by the other, King felt his claws curl uncomfortably, having to look away.

“Destroy this person for me, make me rich, teach me magic…no one ever wants me for me.” His smile was strained and...fragile, like many of his expressions often were. “But it’s fine!” he tried to scoff it off. “Whatever! It…doesn’t bother me or anything!” He laughed, and it was hollow. “Philip was a jerk to me most of the time anyway! I-I never really liked him!”

King could see the dew accumulating in the corner of the kid’s eyes…and he knew it wasn’t mirth this time. His relationship with this creature had been…complicated. He was wary of him, wary of his power and all he was capable of. He was angry. He was angry that this miscreant was responsible for him being separated from his sister, and often kept from his mother. Above all, he was angry at whatever the kid had done with his father. He had a feeling things were more than black and white with whatever led to his imprisonment, but it didn’t stop the bitterness.

Why do I feel so guilty? I shouldn’t feel so guilty. HE’S the one that should feel guilty! He took out my entire family tree! I ‘lied’ to him to save everyone! And he knew that. He had full justification to be the angry one, the one that should be holding a grudge. He may have manipulated The Collector, but if he didn’t everyone would be dead.

…But it didn’t change the reality that once again, sometime into the future, this kid that had obviously been through it through the ages, was going to discover he was just used again, no matter his intentions. …He really hoped this world would be able to survive what resulted from that.

Strangely King didn’t want to see anything terrible befall the child either. Sometimes he wondered why. This creature had been responsible for so much pain, he should want to see him perish…but he didn’t. Everyone wanted to see his imprisonment, he only wanted to see the child stripped of his magic, at least enough that he couldn’t be so destructive with it. Maybe then he could guide him better.

For whatever reason, King found he felt a strange kinship with the godling. Like him he was the only one of his kind (of course he’d caused that, but…), they were both apparent gods, both trying to find their footing in the world. Unbeknownst to him, the incomplete ritual that had linked their minds in the first place had only strengthened the feelings. King had the love of a family now. Eclipse didn’t. Maybe that’s what he needed. …And a timeout.

“Hey, Eclipse…” He sighed, reaching a paw out to The Collector, and flinching in surprise when the other’s little hands gripped it tightly.

Eclipse smiled at King then, so…painfully unaware of it all that the guilt in the baby titan twisted deeper. “But I have you now! I know you’d never dupe me like Philip did, best friend!”

King swallowed hard. “Right.”

“You’re a god being too. You know what it’s like more than anyone I’m sure, to just be used and lied to.” He seemed oblivious to the other’s stiff nod. “But it’s fine, just fine!”

King softened a bit sympathetically when he noted the telltale sign of tears glimmering slightly. He smirked after a moment. “H-hey, come on. Don’t make me turn that smile upside down, bro.” He snickered—and then yelped as he was all but snatched inches away from Eclipse’s face.

He didn’t expect the way the kid just clung to both his paws and stared up with wide, shocked, and sparkling eyes. The unadulterated joy and hope he saw twisted his gut deeper. “Bro? Brother?! You see me as a brother?!”

Oh no. King’s eyes widened immediately as he stammered. “W-what? Well, I…I—that’s not…” But he kept staring into those hopeful and almost desperate eyes. He finally sighed. “…Yeah, sure. You’re my brother.” Well, guess he got that little sibling he always wanted…

“Yay!” he squealed happily, star freckles glowing even brighter than before, illuminating his entire face. “Brother! Brother! You’re my brother!”

“Yeah, yeah…” King sighed. “Alright, quit flitting around my head before I look for buried treasure again, you little lunar monster!” he huffed.

Eclipse let off a small frightened and excited squeak as he backed up, once more back to his jovial self as he floated up in the air. “Oh yeah? Well don’t think this star kid can’t fire it right back!”

“Oh I don’t think that.” On the contrary he was a bit fearful of the tickle monster he might have just set free. “But if you don’t think I can defend myself you’re mistaken, kid! Weh!!”

The sonic wind sent Eclipse slamming back into the rubber walls, and tumbling to the ground. “Oh you don’t know who you’re messing with, little titan baby!” A wave of his hands and he’d summoned a flurry of feathers raining down on King like a bunch of tickly projectiles.

“Ah! Ahahaha hey! Magic is cheating!”

Eclipse laughed. “You just used magic!”

The two engaged once more in their little duel. King didn’t know how the future looked for them, and he didn’t know how it would all finally end when the truth was out, but for now the children forgot about it all and tried to just be children the best that they could. …At least this game didn’t involve knife monopoly.

(Note: I know The Collector is nb, but stuck to mainly ‘he’ pronouns to avoid too much confusion! You can be nb and call yourself a brother!)

[whosthere54]

Prison duo playlist analysis day 7 - Aengus’ Fool by Sleep Walking Animals

I FORGOT THIS EXISTED IM GONNA BE SO FR I BUT WAS COOKING MAYHAPS

You know how this works if you’ve been following as I do this- I think it fits both of them but I’m gonna try to break it down between them cause I can and it makes it easier.

Separately, I think it fits either of them looking at the other as their relationship develops and they learn the right way to love each-other because… I think it’s silly.

“Light as a feather but tough as a stone. When you’re barely together but never alone”

Mmm. Icarus. I think.

“When you’re barely together but never alone” feels so them coded I think. For multiple reasons- one being that they’re a part of the grove but they’re at the same time so isolated and struggling. Also- quixis things. They’re not fully themself. And also Icarixis- they’re never alone if they’re watching the worlds around them right? Almost like the community you can feel from a TV show you watch- taken from Sherbert’s post about them watching the world like a sort of sitcom.

“When a hand on the leg is the best you can do”

When they’re still learning how to comfort maybe they are more hesitant because they don’t want to overstep. They’ve comforted- we’ve seen it, and it’s adapted for who they are comforting. It’s mostly been with Athena and Rae where they got close to anything physically, though. With Centross in Looping the Beginning he took them up to his spot in the snow and they talked, they were able to help with words- they usually are but when there’s that layer removed maybe they take a while to figure out how to help with touch. They did do it through actions, showing up and splashing him with health potions counts.

Shrug- headcannons my beloved.

“Do you know that you bring out the best in me too? I know you can’t see it, but love looks good on you.”

Mmmm. Good line. Good lyrics.

In the end- future- they do bring out the best in eachother. Centross gets Icarus out of their house, and they joke and banter and get them to laugh and actually talk about how they’re feeling and stuff that happened to them. Me when they.

“I’ve been waiting since the last time I was here for you to come home”

THIS ONE

THIS LINE

YELLING NOISES

I think this is so extremely coded personally. With like- just- Quixis. I’ve been waiting since the last time I was here is coded. And they aren’t home- they’re in the worldport. And I cry mayhaps.

“Took a while, but now you’re here. And somehow nothing matters.”

You’re back and nothing else matters because I forgot you and you’re back and I didn’t even know I lost you in the first place.

“Call her to arms and she’ll fight to the death. Or you’ll catch sullen whispers from under her breath”

So you see how this would fit both of them-

So Centross. Centross my beloved. You and your silly healing redemption arc I care so much. It’s him- that’s all I need to say.

“She’s fire and ice, and she’ll carry you through. I know you don’t see it, but love looks good on you.”

Oh Centross and learning how to love and be loved. How to let someone in and exist in his space in that way. How to show someone the darkest parts of you and have them continue to love you anyway, showing you their faults and anger in return.

“I know you can’t see it, you’ll take it or leave it, but love looks good on you.”

THAT ADDITIONAL PIECE. That’s all. I needed to point that out.

“I’ve been waiting for the last time since I was here for you to come home.”

Oh Centross and your death not death. Oh Violet the beloved.

He ascended- he left for a bit. He couldn’t interact without interfering with the balance of the world. When he came back so much was lifted off of Rae and Fenris and everyone else’s shoulders- they no longer had to mourn (but they did- because he’s not the same as he was and they can’t continue to treat him like he is-) because he’s home. He’s back and they can place that love for him somewhere again.

Mmm. Me when prison duo did you know. That would be crazy guys, me, talking about prison duo? In this economy? /sarc/silly/lh/j

The image chosen from my prison duo Pinterest board today is-

Anayways- I bring you two for funsies-

You are loved! Go take any meds if you need to and Go eat and drink water if you haven’t already today <3

Have a good rest of your day/night :]

[thisdreamplace]

Hi dream. It’s 😵‍💫 anon again.

I actually haven’t been on here in a bit bc I was tired & embarrassed of spreading my misery lol. So much has went on with my life since my last message on Thanksgiving. It’s been going as it always does. I fell into the law of assumption trap again last week. I saw in a response to an anon, you said that a lot of us have trauma from the law, which is true. Every time I go back to it, I regret it again haha. It’s such a heavy subject. I watched Sammy Ingram. I tried to force it again. I just knocked some sense into myself an hour ago, “girl, what the hell are you doing?” I know how it ends every time. I’m caught in this place of not understanding if the magic truly is out there or if I’m wasting time. The last of my teen years were spent with trying with the law. I fell flat every time. Although I’m nowhere near okay right now, I still reflect on how painful the journey of the law had been for me. I’m just asking myself if I want to keep feeling the lows of it. I don’t, but without it, what will I do? I have some many dreams. If I were to cut it loose and say “I’m okay if this doesn’t happen”, it would never happen. I needed the law to work. I say NEEDED simply because it gets tiring. Tiring to a point that the desires feel bitter now. I think that is why the community has died down. It’s tired. I’m not sure what put it in some of our heads that we have to make ourselves miserable just to reach. It’s sad to think about. I was a child stuck in this loop. I found subliminals. I haven’t been normal since then. This is a sad tale, but I hope other people can break free from it. Too many are stuck, me included. In some way, law of assumption coaches are stuck too. Your page is a place to become unstuck.

After that coming to my senses moment earlier, I actually felt lighter letting go of the forced affirmations again. I’m not okay, but I think everyone can understand how heavy the law can feel on your back. Now….I’ve just sat with my negativity. I don’t know what to do with it all. I always look to find someone else who is feeling like I am, but I truly don’t want anyone to. I hope everyone who has been negatively affected by the laws can recover. It truly is crazy. I wonder if there will be a documentary on Netflix one day. “Surviving the Laws” lmfao.

I didn’t have a main point for this message. Your point just brought up some words in my mind…. like yeah, we’ve been traumatized. 😂😂😂

I hope you’ve been doing well, Dream. How’s life going? Happy New Year btw!!!!

hiii lovely 😵‍💫 anon

ahh i remember when sammy first blew up and uh.. yeah. def glad that didnt last hahahah i wouldnt ever rec her to anyone knowing what i know now, but i get it. sometimes we fall back and that's just normal and not a big deal.

this really stood out to me though, "if i were to cut it loose and say, "i'm okay if this doesn't happen," it would never happen." hmmmm this is very far from the truth. and the hard realization is realizing... you not cutting it loose hasnt made it happen either. :/ the law is extremely paradoxial and until we surrender to that fact, we continue to struggle and struggle. fighting and wanting and wanting and wanting. and never making it pass the phase of wanting, or even if we do, we quickly find ourselves back in the wanting phase again because that is what it is. if we cannot stop wanting, if we cannot stop hoping something will happen for us to finally be happy... then we keep waiting for that day we can finally be happy. this is maybe the hardest part in all of this. allowing the paradox. that when we actually cut loose and stop needing whatever to pass, that is when it happens. when we could enjoy life, even just a little, with the very little that we have in front of us, the thing we wanted most appears. sometimes we have to create our own magic, not continue waiting on life to bring it to us.

i understand you entirely when you say you get tired, and the desire feels bitter. because ohmygosh that was meeeee. at some points, i became entirely resentful towards what i had thought i wanted the most. i also agree this is why the community has died down, and many are moving to a more non dualistic lifestyle bc its much more freeing than the manifestation trap. everything you're saying is so relatable to me a few years ago, and thats why i have remained on this page. to be some sort of source of help, to share my own journey and hopefully it can encourage and inspire others. :')

LOL but imagine. i think that would be a great documentary, bc seriously so many people would be able to speak out and it would be so relatable. and it would show people that there is a way out. we truly didnt find the law for nothing, it leads us to something greater eventually. the law was always meant to lead to the promise, you know ? so for that, its not all terrible. but its true that a lot of us hurt ourselves and traumatized ourselves a lot in the process, and it doesnt help that so many loa coaches at the same supported that kind of suffering.

anyway, thanks for popping in again !! i've been doing really well tbh, the new year is going really well. i've made some big changes in my life, like moving abroad and i'm already loving it but having to learn how to live somewhere completely new. the days are so beautiful here and lately and its the small things like that which just make me happy to be here <3