#maybe she acts like a buffer really.

[fingertipsmp3]

Lads I am trying soooo hard to remain optimistic but I really feel like I used up my allowance of luck already this week

[charliemwrites]

Part 12 SpecGru reader!!

No content warnings for this chapter.

You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.

It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.

Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.

The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.

Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?

Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.

What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.

And then there was Johnny.

Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.

When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.

Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.

Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.

“What’s on your mind, babes?”

You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”

“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.

“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”

“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”

She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.

Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.

“I’ve just been trying to decide…”

She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.

“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”

“Do you want to put it to rest?”

“I should.”

“But do you want to?”

The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.

“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.

She picks up what you aren’t saying.

“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”

You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.

“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”

You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”

She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”

You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.

Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.

You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.

Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.

Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.

It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.

The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.

Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.

It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.

You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.

Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.

The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.

Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.

Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.

You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.

“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.

He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”

You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.

And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.

It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.

Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.

Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”

He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)

“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”

You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”

He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”

You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.

“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.

You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.

“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”

Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?

You sniffled, but he just kept talking.

“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”

You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.

“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”

And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?

You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.

You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.

No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.

So, you don’t ask.

You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.

“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.

His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.

“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.

“There might be.”

He sits back, skeptical but waiting.

You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”

“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.

“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”

His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)

He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.

“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”

You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”

“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”

His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”

It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.

Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.

The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.

Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.

Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.

“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”

Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.

You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”

“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.

You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.

“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.

“Is this a conversation?” he replies.

You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”

He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.

“Why now?” he says finally.

You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”

A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”

A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.

“How do you reckon?” you inquire.

“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”

You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—

“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”

He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.

“We wouldnae have.”

You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“I ken you and Simon were—”

“Don’t.”

His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.

Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”

There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”

You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.

“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.

“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”

“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.

“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”

His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”

“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.

“I cared about you,” he denies.

“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”

You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.

“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”

You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.

“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”

You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.

“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”

“I what?”

Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.

“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”

“I didn’t.”

He stops. Stares. “What?”

You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[zivazivc]

Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?

Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.

But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.

She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.

So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.

Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.

Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.

They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.

So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)

The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.

It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.

[laduenadelswing]

Stress

Vox x Reader

Vox has been dating you since a couple of months. He was really serious with you, your beauty captivated him, but he didn't want to rush things with you. You had steamy make out sessions, it never came to the actual act. Vox never knew how he could talk about it without offending you, so he gave you your time. Being patient was hard because every day your body clouded his mind and drove him crazy. Velvet and Valentino became your friends since you started dating Vox. "Vox is not himself lately. He seems so worked up." Velvet exclaimed when you got some coffee. "Girl, maybe you should help him get loose. I mean, you could use your human charms." She smiled when you spilled your coffee, "Velvet, we are in public." You blushed. "Na! Vox would fuck you in public, too. I knew he would fall for you the second I saw you." "Velvet, I don't want to destroy him." You winked and Velvet gave you an "are you fucking serious look?"

"Don't worry, it takes a lot to destroy him." Velvet shot back playfully. You knew that Vox would never force you to do anything you don't like. That's one of the many traits you loved about him.At night, Vox didn't come home. Work consumed him once again. He was stressed out, overworked and horny. The sexual tension didn't help his stress, the primal instincts distracted him too much. You decided to pay him a visit, get him some food to ease him. Of course, Vox would love everything you give him, but Pizza and wine during his overtime made his heart jump. He never asked you for anything, and still you managed to surprise him every time. You cared for him, and this genuine care made him fall even harder for you. You walked into his screen room, he was controlling seventeen shows at the same time. "Vox, I got you something." You said and sat onto the table, handed him a slice of pizza. "Thank you darling. You are the light of my life." He whispered and smiled. "I am so sorry that I could not come home. Work, it stresses me out. Alastor's return makes me crazy. That motherf-"You smiled and let him devour his pizza, Vox took some time and feed you some slices of pizza. You could see that putting stuff in your mouth made him very uncomfortable. The way the cheese strings dropped on your tongue made him think about something else. Making you his, only his. You felt the same way about him. You pushed his chair a little bit away from you and went on your knees. The excitement in his eyes was visible, electricity jolted through his body over his screen and claws. You stood up and kissed him gently, unbuttoned his suit sadistically slowly, his shirt followed soon after. Your gentle touch made him shiver, his collarbone was your first victim. He was so stressed from work, but his excitement overshadowed everything. You kissed down his torso, sucked on his sensitive nipples, touched the side which didn't get the attention from your mouth. His moaning was audible. " Relax, Vox, I want to help you. Relax. Be as loud as you want. I hope this room is soundproof." You whispered into his upper body. You love the way his matted gray skin became stiff under your touch. " No, but that one is." Vox teleported you into his bedroom. You touched his bulge, unbuckled his pants and stroked his manhood. "I love your waist. Your strong shoulders and arms drive me crazy." A small blush appeared on his screen. The way you praised him made him feel truly special. He wanted to be yours, die for your praise and care. You saw his manhood dripping with pre-cum, you decided to lick his whole length first. Carefully, you wrapped your mouth around him, moved your head passionately up and down. You didn't deep throat him yet, you moved just as far as you needed to find the perfect spot, pace and light pressure. As you went deeper you looked him deep into his eyes, he was glitching, moaning electrified. "You drive me crazy. Hooow?" He moaned, almost screamed, buffering. For Vox you looked like a goddess at this moment. The blue light on your face made you look holy. He always wanted to be in your holy arms but didn't calculate that your holy hands would work his manhood today. Your hand stroked him in the rhythm of your oral performance. Vox was overheating. How could you make him wait so long and be this slutty?

"Please, stop, I can't. " Vox whimpered. Vox noticed your evil smile. "Please Vox, baby, let me help you. I know you can do it." Vox shivered, your gentle dominance was something he couldn't comprehend. You pushed him onto the mattress, gave him passionate kisses onto his chest, took a moment to taste his lips. Your lips tasted so good to him, your unique taste was mixed with his taste. "Just enjoy the show." Your voice was dripping with lust as you slowly sat onto his lap. Your walls tightening around his shaft. Vox couldn't whimper anymore he just moaned uncontrollably, the screen flickering. Your laugh was music to his ears. She rode Vox slowly, forced him to give her the control little by little. Your hands based on his torso, your body weight pushed him down even more. As you moved your hips up and down, his clawed drilled into your skin. It was your time to scream. Your walls worked around his tip. Vox shivered, the moans turned into screams, the flickering became frequent. "Oh please, keep going. I can't. This is too much." You wanted to stop him, tease him crumble even more. Make the mighty, powerful Overlord beg under your human hips.

"Oh no...." He panicked, his face lost control, the power went out, everything became dark. Hot liquid filled your body. Vox body laid in the bed, his screen blacked out the Voxtech logo flew over his screen. "Vox?" You asked gently. He couldn't answer you anymore, he shut down. You were satisfied with your masterpiece and went to the shower. As you walked down the apartment. Valentino and Velvet rushed into the haul. "What did you do?" Valentino screamed. You just smiled. "I know what she did." Velvet stopped Valentino. It took a time until Valentino realized what has happened.

I hope you like it 🥰

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Of All the Gin Joints

Week #17 Prompt: "I can't believe you!" | Word Count: 1938 | Rating: T | POV: Nancy | Characters: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Eddie | Relationships: Ronance, Steddie, Past Mentions of Stancy, Fruity Four | CW: Language, Alcohol Consumption | Tags: Future Fic, Bisexual Nancy Wheeler, Old Friends, And Maybe New Love, Getting Together, First Kiss

Nancy lets her eyes adjust to the darkness and flashing lights of the club. It's not exactly her comfort zone. But she watches as the men, and the women, move to the beat of the music that's bouncing the speakers, thumping so hard she can feel it in her chest. 

She's never been anywhere like this, not really. It's not exactly her scene, never has been. 

So, she finds a spot to stand in the corner, leaving a buffer, so she can take it all in. She always needs to study first, she never just dives face-first into anything. Unless it's an emergency. And this? Not an emergency.

This is just an unknown, an exploration of her sexuality that might be coming later than most. She thinks she should have done this sooner. Maybe not the club part, but the acting on her interest in women. But she didn't. Not the women, and definitely not the club, so now she'd like to know more before deciding to be all in on being a club-going person, especially at her age. 

Watching, it's clear that everyone seems to be having a really fucking good time, and aren't paying any attention to her clinging to the shadows, like a wallflower.

She's about to maybe make a move more towards the center of the action, when she catches a glimpse of a familiar smile, and she steps to the side to see better, to clear her sightline, to really make sure. And, yes, it is Robin, bouncing, laughing, dancing with a guy, seemingly having a hell of a good time. 

It's not Steve, this guy is far too short, and it isn't until he turns that she realizes it's Gareth. He's just chopped off all his curls, which she thinks is kind of a shame.

But, beyond that, she knows if Gareth's here, that means Eddie's here, and if Eddie's here, well...there he is. Steve Harrington, bouncing, hair flying, looking twenty instead of over forty. 

Looking free.

And happy. Really, really happy.

She hasn't seen any of them in person in years, only recently watching from afar on the new Facebook thing that she was bullied into joining by Dustin. She's not too mad about it, since it means she gets to see pictures of all her old friends, and gets to know that they're doing okay out in the world, living their lives. At least when she remembers to login and check.

Nancy hasn't decided if she's going to approach them or not. This is new to her, and while she knows they'd be supportive and fun and totally in her corner, she was really only looking to dip her toes in, not plunge headfirst.

But she doesn't get to decide, because Robin's caught sight of her and is waving frantically, with an enthusiasm only Robin can muster. She's missed her, she realizes. Missed all of them.

She sees Robin turn and yell in the other direction, hands flailing, nearly hitting those around her.

She hasn't changed a bit. 

So, Nancy waves back, and heads her way. She's kind of glad the decision was made for her. It's easier that way, and she gets to see Robin.

When Nancy approaches, Steve is suddenly there, picking her up and swinging her around so hard, she feels her back pop. She's not sixteen, not anymore, but he doesn't seem to have gotten that message as he squeezes her against him, before finally putting her back on her feet but still doesn't let go.

"I can't believe you! You're here!" Steve says, smiling wide and so fucking happy. 

He's glowing. 

There's a ring through his eyebrow, and tattoos crawling up his arm, and yet, he looks exactly the same, somehow. Just really, really happy and all grown up.

It's a good look on him. Honestly.

He giggles, squeezing both of her arms, "Nancy Wheeler."

She almost corrects him, but it is Wheeler again. Her divorce was finalized and she took her own name back, and she doesn't expect she'll ever give it up again. It's who she is, and she kind of hates that she ever forgot that. 

"Where's Eddie?" Nancy asks, leaning towards Steve's ear, trying to be heard over the music.

"The bar!" Steve screams back, and she looks that way, expecting to see him in line for drinks, but he's behind the bar. Putting on a show, as always.

It's a little mesmerizing. But Eddie Munson always was, for better or worse. He had an unique skill for capturing an audience and refusing to let them go.

Steve wraps his arms around her neck from behind, forcing her to walk in front of him, leading her right towards Eddie.

"Look who I found!" Steve shouts and Eddie grins, leaning up on and over the bar to cup her cheek, kissing the other one.

"Hey, Wheeler. What can I get you?" Eddie asks, waving his arm down the bar in a sweeping fashion.

She isn't sure, so she lets him pick, and he gets to work, sliding and twirling, dragging the bottle upwards as he pours, and she grins. He was made for this, she's pretty sure. Putting a show, holding an audience.

She hadn't realized he was a bartender, but she crawls up on an open bar stool, to watch him work. She expects that Steve will sit down next to her, but instead he walks around behind the bar, and kisses Eddie before he makes himself a drink. It's not as impressive as watching Eddie do it, but it's definitely not Steve's first time behind a bottle either, that's for sure. 

"Do you own this bar?" she yells, and they both nod.

Of all the gin joints in all the world, she happened to stumble into theirs.

It really is a small world after all. 

She hadn't heard they'd bought a bar. She must be more behind on that Facebook thing than she thought. Or they've owned longer than Facebook has been a thing, and it was old news she'd just missed out on hearing. She'll have to ask Dustin, or Mike. Get filled in on what they know.

"It's great!" she screams back, and it is. It's a little loud, a little overwhelming, but it seems like a really fun atmosphere. 

They both smile, and Steve is holding his own drink, and Eddie leans over putting the finishing touches on it. Then Steve's back across the bar, sitting next to her.

"You're here by accident?" Steve shouts to be heard, and she nods. She heard about the queer friendly bar, that wasn't really a club exclusively for young people, and it looked like something she might want to check out, now that she's open to exploring that side of herself.

She should have known she'd be drawn right to Steve, the only other bisexual person she really knows. That's just how these things work with them. There are no accidents. They've all been tied together for a long, long time, even as they've drifted and lived their own, separate lives.

They try to talk over the music, but it's impossible, and Steve takes her by the hand and leads her behind the bar, and into an office. He closes the door, and the sound is suddenly gone. Silenced. 

"Soundproofed?" she asks, sitting down on the couch.

Steve nods, "I still get headaches sometimes. It gives me a place to go to get away from the noise if I need to, without having to go all the way home."

"Smart. That's smart," she says, looking around. There are pictures lining the walls, filled with tons of familiar faces.

"It was Eddie's idea," Steve says, grinning, "he just wants me to be comfortable."

Then he smiles a different smile, a softer one, "And nearby."

Nancy smiles back at him, happy he's happy.

"He looks good, by the way," Nancy says, "really good. You both do. Robin, too."

Steve just smiles, because he knows that's true. Time has been kind to them, all of them, it seems.

"Gareth should have kept those curls, though," she teases.

"Don't tell him that, it's a sore spot," Steve says with a grin.

"Mum's the word," she promises.

Then the door opens and closes, Robin sliding inside. She bounces up and down, clapping her hands, "Nance! I can't believe you're here!"

Nancy stands up, and hugs her. Robin isn't as awkward as she was at eighteen. But she's still got that funky style that Nancy's always been a little jealous of, if she's totally honest. That innate ability to just be herself.

Steve is standing there smiling, and then says, "I'll let Robin show you around and catch you up. Eddie'll cry around if I skip out on helping him."

Nancy knows that's not true. Eddie Munson worships the ground Steve Harrington walks on, and has since 1986. At first it felt like Nancy was losing something that she might want again someday, and wanted to bristle up at Eddie. Claim her territory. 

But she quickly saw how Steve looked back at Eddie. She knew that look, and well, and she was happy for him, even if it was kind of hard to let that door close for good.

By the time they all went their separate ways, it was pretty obvious Steve and Eddie were in it for the long haul, and probably would always be. 

And here they are, still together, and they still look fucking happy.

She's not surprised one bit.

And good for them. She isn't sure what it would be like to pick right the first time. She's picked wrong twice now, and she's not excited to do it again.

Women. She might try women for a while. Forget all about men for a stretch and see how that feels, how it goes.

Robin is sitting next to her, and as soon as the door closes behind Steve, leaving them in quiet again, Robin's asking a million questions.

Always curious, Robin.

Nancy answers them. Mike's good. Three kids that act just like he did, which he definitely had coming. 

Robin catches her up on everybody she's still close with that Nancy hasn't seen in a while, and it's nice. Comfortable, like no time has passed.

"You want another drink? Dance? Some food? Anything?" Robin offers.

"Yes," Nancy says, and hell, she thinks she might want it all.

Another couple drinks in, they are bouncing around the dance floor as much as their middle-aged knees will allow, when Nancy reaches forward to brace herself against Robin's hip.

She didn't mean anything by it, but the sudden shift on Robin's face is telling another story. 

Oh shit.

Okay, yeah. That. 

She steps forward, and Robin meets her halfway. Lips pressing against hers in a way that she only barely let herself think about, in a time gone by. The curiosity was there, down deep, back when they were just getting close. But Nancy didn't know how to define it, how to understand it within herself.

She does now.

Robin's hand slides up her back, pressing between her shoulder blades, as she kisses her in a way Nancy's never been kissed. Not by anyone, maybe. 

She should have known. She should have realized that this is what she was looking for, missing, late to understanding.

When Robin pulls back, she smiles, and Nancy smiles back, her heart beating hard against her chest. 

She wants to do it again. 

So she does, leaning up, pressing her lips to Robin's one more time, eager to see where this can go from here.

Hopeful, and excited.

Ready.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[ptn-imagines]

Sorry tumblr is being a butt! Anyways, if I may, I'd love to read or hear any headcanons or imagines involving reader/f!Chief with either Countess Chelsea, Hamel, Eleven, Sumire, or Garofano. Whichever one(s) inspiration strikes for you. If I could be a tad bit more specific, maybe the prompt could be something like "the ways you and the specific Sinner(s) are kind and affectionate with one another"? Could be SFW or NSFW. Sorry if this is too much, been feeling kinda down with ennui and current state of the world and all. And please, take care of yourself and write at your own pace :)

I, uh, felt inspired. To say the least. Anyway, this has made me realize that it'd probably be faster to list Sinners I can't see as autistic... Also, in hindsight, I realize you may have meant this romantically. I mean, these can be read romantically, but they can also be read platonically. I hope you enjoy either way!

The ways F!Chief and her Sinners are affectionate and kind with one another

Countess Chelsea

It's a given that she'll shower Chief in dozens of gifts. Literally dozens. Whether Chief wants it or not. You know how she is. It technically counts as an act of kindness?

Also, with all the money and influence she has, she's definitely able to get Chief invited to many exclusive opportunities. The best seats at the theater, private movie premiers, exclusive, high-society galas, you name it; Chelsea can and will get it for Chief.

Honestly, Chief does accept these invitations from time to time, because not only are they a way to get away from the strain of her work, Chelsea is able to provide a nice buffer against her usual Mania magnet tendencies. In that she can help contain any disaster that breaks out, not that she can prevent the Mania from being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Chief is pretty sure there's no Sinner that can do that.

Finally, the most lowkey way Chelsea shows affection is by letting Chief cuddle with Sitri on those days when she's tired. Sitri may be a terrifying big cat made of gemstones, but Chief has long since found that when it comes to cuddling, Sitri is a fairly nice substitute for a fluffy, domestic housecat. She also has the perk of being big enough to be able to curl around Chief, which is comforting. It's just a matter of getting comfortable, since gemstones are not the softest thing to lay against. Luckily, Chelsea is always willing to provide ridiculously ornate (but functional) blankets and pillows.

Honestly, the number one way Chief shows kindness to Chelsea is simply spending time with her. Though it's true she can be overbearing, Chief knows her heart is good, but deeply lonely; it's why she keeps asking Chief to be her sugar baby, after all. She doesn't seem to realize that Chief prefers spending time with her just for the sake of doing so.

Also, whenever Chief does wear a piece of clothing or an accessory Chelsea bought for her, you can count on the Countess being absolutely over the moon about it for the next week. Chief feels like it should be harder to make Chelsea happy, but… it's not, it's just not. The lapidarist is just too kind-hearted, too full of love and too earnest to be difficult to please, if you know her. And Chief knows her quite well.

Finally, when Chief has a spare moment, she helps Chelsea take care of Sitri sometimes. While she doesn't have the same needs as a flesh and blood cat, she still needs a form of grooming and brushing in the form of polishing, and unlike regular cats, that is a task best suited to human hands. Countess Chelsea is always diligent in this task, but nevertheless she has yet to say no when Chief offers to help, enjoying their bonding time.

Garofano

Like Countess Chelsea, Garofano has one really obvious way she shows affection to the Chief, and that is through mending and tailoring clothes. Half of the Chief's non-work clothes were handmade by the assassin.

Garofano is also really experienced with people and the human heart. If you need a shoulder to cry on but not a flat out therapist, Garofano is pretty much the go-to, and for the Chief? She's always willing to lend an ear. One time, an exhausted Chief actually passed out on Garofano during one of these sessions, and the assassin didn't move for hours, simply holding her close.

Finally… The younger Sinners in the Bureau tend to demand Chief's attention, a lot. While there's no doubt Chief would love to spend time with them around the clock, that's not feasible… So Garofano doesn't mind stepping in to corral them. Her warm, motherly vibes draw the kids in with ease, and they love spending time with her too; Chief is eternally grateful for the breaks Garofano has gotten for her.

When it comes to returning the kindness, Garofano isn't as easy to please as Countess Chelsea, but she's also far from difficult. She has a fairly mild temperament (usually), not tending towards either extreme.

Returning favors to Garofano seemed difficult to the Chief at first until she realized that Garofano was often so busy doing acts of service for others that she neglected herself. From then on, Chief did her best to help Garofano out in small ways such as assigning someone to tidy her cell when it got a little too haphazard, or bringing her meals when she got so engrossed in a project she forgets to eat. These little things go a long way with Garofano.

Most of the Garden would like to receive flowers as a gift, and the seamstress is no exception. It can be difficult knowing which flowers which assassin prefers, but Chief's got it down to a science: for Garofano, flowers symbolizing other members of the Garden (such as poppies and cherry blossoms) are best, but purple carnations, symbolizing Garofano herself, should be avoided.

Finally, Garofano's nature is that she very rarely finds herself in a position where she herself needs to vent… But she is still only human, with her own problems and feelings. When they all become too heavy of a burden for her to bear alone, she knows she can always trust Chief to take care of her.

Hamel

Hamel doesn't enjoy being touched – which makes the fact that she allows Chief to do so a gesture of deep trust and affection. Chief is always careful not to push Hamel's boundaries with this, but even on the days where this simply means being able to stand closer to Hamel than normal, Chief is grateful and honored.

Hamel is also a very withdrawn person, but she has a very vibrant and imaginative mind. While happy with her own company, it's human nature to seek companionship, and Hamel will almost always seek it from the Chief; if there's something interesting that has caught her attention, she can actually be quite excitable in conversation.

As long as it's what she truly wants to do and not being forced upon her, Hamel loves to dance on stage for an audience; however, she's a lot more hesitant about letting others see her practice. Yet, she often invites Chief to watch her rehearsals, seeking out her opinions on each movement. Chief, Hamel feels, is not only a safe and trustworthy person, but someone who can feel the emotions of her dance just as well as she herself can.

Compared to Countess Chelsea and Garofano, Hamel is probably the hardest to read and return kindness to. Still, Chief figured it out, and it was absolutely worth it to see Hamel's rare and precious smile.

First of all, Chief makes sure that Hamel can always find a stage – and an audience that'll appreciate her. While she's not against letting Hamel perform in Eastside if she feels up to it, Chief is quick to scare off anyone who might try to exploit Hamel. She respects her dance as an expression of the self, not a cash cow, and though she doesn't always have the words to express it, Hamel couldn't be more grateful.

Secondly, Chief makes a point of checking in on Hamel a lot. The dancer has an unfortunate habit of getting lost in her own mind, forgetting completely about the outside world and sitting still and quiet for hours. It's not exactly healthy for her and often leads to spikes in her M-value, so Chief always keeps an eye out for these moments so she can “wake her up” with the shackles.

Finally… It turns out, Hamel really loves stuffed animals. Chief never imagined she'd form a habit of buying sealife plushies, but here she was; besides, the noticeable brightening of Hamel's mood when receiving a new one was worth the expenditure. Hamel's bed was covered in plushies she'd received from the Chief, though her favorite was the first one she'd been given, a stuffed jellyfish. That one has a place of honor by her pillow, which it only ever leaves to be held by Hamel.

[ungodly-amounts-of-godly-trauma]

wotw round 1

propaganda under the cut!

will graham:

OMG where do I even start??? A lot of the fandom (not the whole fandom, but a lot of them) are obsessed with Will Graham being traumatized helpless baby boy sub and it's just like… Hello? Did you watch the same show as me?

"Oh no he got his brain caught on fire with encephalitis he needs his big strong psychiatrist Hannibal to take care of him and spoon feed him and protect him from the world"

"Oh he's in love with his friend Alana but she just sees him as a friend and a psychiatric project I just need to wrap him in a blanket and cuddle him and protect him from all these people who hurt him"

Like the list goes on and on but guys, come on. Will Graham lives by himself with his 7 dogs and takes care of all of them. He's an FBI agent. HE'S LITERALLY KILLED PEOPLE BOTH WITH HIS BARE HANDS AND WITH WEAPONS. THIS MAN IS A SCRUFFY OUTDOORSMAN WHO'S LIKE 6'0" AND MAYBE NOT BUILT BUT DEFINITELY NOT SCRAWNY AND IN NEED OF PROTECTING. I think a lot of people get caught up in the fact that Will Graham is played by Hugh Dancy and he was very much a "pretty boy" character in a lot of stuff before he played Will Graham and this is also exacerbated by Hannibal being played by Mads Mikkelsen who is "slightly taller rugged silver fox European man who is going to fix my daddy issues" and since Will and Hannibal are the main couple a lot of people are like "well they can't both be big tough top guys so obviously it's the guy who's slightly bigger and buffer and older"

Will Graham is a 38 year old FBI criminal profiler who has killed dangerous people with his bare hands, went to prison for some time, masterfully manipulated others, also hunts and fishes, and he's like very good at reading people and their motivations. Incredibly smart everyday man.

Sweet JESUS sometimes the fandom makes him out to be more of a helpless puppy than he really is. Granted, even if he has his moments of mental vulnerability, it's never treated as weak by the show. He's managed to persist through some of the hardest situations. AND LIKE I GET IT, HE'S REALLY PRETTY WHEN HE'S IN PAIN AND SUFFERING BUT HE'S NOT!!! A BABY!!! Anyway I've seen a lot of fandom takes where he's been twinkified to high hell or portrayed as helpless/submissive and often it entirely diminishes that he's a grown fucking person (who has KILLED AND WILL DO IT AGAIN).

had encephalitis in s1 so everyone calls him sweaty & got framed for murder so when he actually murders people people say it’s not his fault and that he was manipulated into doing so (how do you manipulate someone into putting down a shotgun and beating someone to death with their bare hands when you’re not even there? fuck if i know. also, the manipulator in question (hannibal, his sort of therapist) actively stopped him from killing someone). “someone help will graham” is an actual tag on ao3. people treat him like a child. he is a serial killer and people act like he can’t even feed himself. it’s terrible. will graham is a liar, a murderer, a cannibal, a manipulator, and i love him for it

jason "jd" dean:

shoutout to my lovely friend who knows who they are who talk abt how jd does no wrong and hes so slay when like. he does slay. he did slay. he slayed three whole people. and tried to slay a school. like, jd does a lot of wrong. all he does is wrong. and sometimes the fandom acts like everything he does is super chill and fine and sane, and ignores what he did altogether. like yea christian slater was fit in the movie. yk whats not fit? homocide

hes also treated like an innocent lil baby who can do nothing for himself but im watching the movie rn and he just bashed veronicas head off of an emergency fire hose, and shes apparently the love of his life

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ SHIELDING FEELINGS (LITERALLY) (roman reigns x fem!reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: roman reigns x fem!reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

heyyyy!! i have a fluff request for roman x (fem) reader. it’s set in his shield days and the reader is a apart of the shield (or a really close allies with them whichever you want) and she’s kind of like the lita of the group. Her and roman have huge crushes on eachother and it’s so obvious to not only seth and dean/mox but the whole wwe universe. So the two guys try to come up with a plan to have them both confess to eachother 😅😅

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: this is pure humour and fluff! basically just himbos dean and seth struggling at playing cupid

ೃ༄WORD COUNT: 1.8k

ೃ༄ NOTE: hello lovely anon i got a BIT carried away with this i apologise but i hope it still works🥹 i had way too much fun writing shield as terrible matchmakers

dean ambrose had a plan.

albeit, it wasn’t a very well thought out one. but it was a plan of somewhat decent calibre.

you see, he had a lot of time for you, acting as shield’s manager and all. what he didn’t have time for was how goddamn dumb you could be sometimes (seth’s words, not his — although he very much agreed).

what was it that got dean so riled up, you ask? well it was the fact that you were so evidently in love with roman reigns, and yet never managed to say more than a pretty pathetic ‘uh, you look nice’ whenever the four of you were backstage.

even worse than you? roman. this man had not kept his crush on your quiet. apparently you were the only one who couldn’t see it, and yet instead of ever acting on said emotions, roman liked to play a fun game of hide from y/n in the locker rooms until it’s time for our match and then i only have to see her for five minutes before. this had, on many occasions, ended with dean nearly throwing him to the ground because of course all this was going to do was make you worry the very beautiful yet stubborn man hated you.

a pretty man, but clearly very little common sense, dean had concluded.

so that was when, after too many training sessions in which you’d sit in silence until your coach brought you into the conversation, he hatched his master plan.

now just to put it into action.

it just so happened the final member of the shield would be a perfect partner.

—

the plan was, in dean and seth’s eyes, bulletproof. they would probably have to undergo a pretty intense intervention afterwards considering how wrong they had been; but at first, their confidence was through the roof.

oh no, dean hurt his shoulder in practice — what a shame! good job seth was there to take him to the medic, a walk he definitely could have done on his own! but they were so smart, right? surely you and roman would talk about something if forced to coinhabit the same space without a buffer?

yeah. they really thought so too.

but after fifteen minutes of hiding behind a comically large stack of chairs, they felt it necessary to put the two of you out of your misery and cry that it was a false alarm.

maybe you two really were more hopeless than dean initially thought.

so came attempt two: the halloween party. because who doesn’t love a good dress up party?

apparently, cupid was more of a christmas fan.

as it happened, vast majority of people brought their dates to the work party, which dean and seth hadn’t planned for, but made the situation even more perfect. not to mention you and roman had accidentally both turned up dressed as demons (finn balor made a playful scene when you walked in) — it was practically a match made in heaven! or hell…

this attempt was easy in theory: set up a conversation about how fun dancing was, before abandoning the two of you at a table to take to the dancefloor themselves. surely you’d get fed up of being left out and want to join???? surely!

except, what dean and seth had failed to consider was that in the spirit of halloween, and the fact that some of the most iconic superstars in the roster loved a good prank, the place was practically decked out with tricks, instead of treats.

dean and seth observed quietly from the dancefloor (they had long since abandoned their girlfriends and were simply dancing together now, chest to chest (hey — this matchmaking was a taxing game!)), practically cheering when they saw the two of you finally getting somewhere.

roman stood, offering a hand to you with a good natured “if you can’t beat them, join them?”, and it was obvious the two of you were so close to finally making that first step as your hand reached for his—

then, a plastic skeleton hidden in a bowl of candy on your tabled decided to choose that moment to make its appearance very known.

and there went your glass of red wine, all down your favourite pantsuit (luckily — it was red too, but the dark patch across your chest was not doing you any favours).

roman very sweetly apologised on behalf of the skeleton, which was the very final part of the conversation seth and dean heard before you were scurrying away to change. they quite literally facepalmed as they walked over to a dumbfounded roman, who still played the entire situation off.

it seemed they’d have to step things up if they really wanted to get through the both of your very thick skulls.

so attempt three was… certainly less subtle.

worse still, it came only a month after the halloween party, when you were still in the thick of your ‘hiding from roman reigns’ era, so imagine your surprise when here comes dean ambrose and seth rollins, dragging roman up to you with the latter wearing an expression of confusion that surely mimicked you own.

“okay.” dean spoke, slamming a hand on the catering table “you, roman, like y/n.”

“you, y/n, like roman.” seth added.

then, like one of those old timely comedy acts, at the same time the men both exclaimed a “now talk!”

and to yours and roman’s credit… you did speak?

it’s not your fault the members of shield hadn’t made the topic entirely clear. it was obvious by now that when it came to roman, you were blind to any subtext, so they could hardly blame you for missing the mark.

“of course i like roman? he’s my friend?” you questioned warily, genuinely beginning to get concerned for the two men you considered friends.

“are you two okay?” roman added, genuine concern across his face as he outstretched a hand to slap seth? check him for a fever? both?

you hummed in confirmation, thinking back on every odd occurrence that had happened between you and roman recently, realising that the common denominator in every situation was the two other members of the stable you managed probably saying something extremely dumb.

—

eventually, dean and seth had to admit they were terrible matchmakers.

when the christmas party that same year had been announced, they very nearly put another thing together, but a swift reminder from the wonderful (and honestly; terrifying) randy orton, the two were reminded of every failed attempt in the past, and their plan unravelled before it had even found it’s feet.

as would turn out, when there wasn’t two idiots meddling, that was when things unfolded themselves.

after the many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of your teammate lately, you weren’t expecting roman to approach you mid way through the party. he had spent pretty much the entire night hovering on the opposite side of the room, and for good reason to. you were a liability after all, and his suit shirt was too nice to end up with wine on it. you had opted for white wine instead this time though, just incase.

“hi.” a deep voice came from behind you.

you had been watching triple h and stephanie dancing together for the best part of half an hour, nursing your glass of wine contentedly until the voice behind you had startled you. your glass wobbled in your hand in a terrifying suggested repeat of the halloween event, but roman was prepared this time, swiftly reaching a hand around you and saving it from disaster.

“i should have probably learnt not to sneak up on you.” he joked, motioning with your (thankfully still full) wine glass in his hand before he handed it back to you.

“i certainly learnt that red wine is tasty but dangerous.” you played along, your heart doing a weird thumping thing at how roman chuckled.

“i’m sorry if the other guys ever made you feel uncomfortable.” roman said genuinely, catching you off guard. it was rare you spoke, let alone when the topics brushed a level of seriousness. “we love having you working with us as shield, but they don’t know when to turn off the jokes sometimes.”

you shook your head quickly, hating the idea that roman was concerned about you. sure, dean and seth were idiots at the best of times, but it was a huge part of their charm. from them trying to break roman during promos to their odd, but intriguing backstage celebrations, the slight unhinged enthusiasm was what you loved.

“trust me. i love working with them. with, with you all.” you added at the last second, not missing the slight upper curl in the corner of roman’s mouth when he realised he was included.

you could already feel the blush creeping to your cheeks just because of all his attention being on you, and you knew you were just seconds away from blurting something stupid, when an equally annoying cough came from your side.

comically, both you and roman turned your heads at the same time to see the entirely expected source of the disturbance.

seth and dean were standing a little while away, watching you with the biggest grins you had ever seen. arguably bigger than whenever your team won.

when you realised what was causing their giggles, your heart stopped.

you had casually followed dean’s eyeline, just a simple attempt to see if you could figure out the cause, when you found it immediately. and it seemed roman did too.

mistletoe. hung exactly above where the two of you stood.

you couldn’t help but widen your eyes, going to take a step back but being prevented by a gentle, yet grounding touch to your wrist. when you looked back at roman, he was closer than before, and it was practically an instinct how your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“in the spirit of christmas, right?” he asked, a grin that told it was more than just christmas spirit, and in fact something he had been trying to tell you for a while.

still, you took your time, placing a cautious hand on his bicep as you leant in to connect your lips to his. “in the spirit of christmas.”

[isa-ghost]

May I humbly ask for more q!phil headcanons? 👉👈

Fuck yeah concrete >:D

Previous Sets: Set 1 Set 2 Set 3 Set 4 Set 5

M O R E

He'll go above & beyond for his friends for as long as it takes, but when a situation proves futile or hopeless, he gives up. And hates it. He feels guilty for it even when he knows there's nothing more he can do. He also HATES being helpless (it's part of why he's taking being grounded so hard)

Once his mind is made up, it's made up. It's very hard to change his mind. You practically need a PowerPoint of irrefutable facts & proof of why he should think another way

Yeah. He's stubborn. It can be infuriating. But it comes from a place of life experience, knowing what he wants, and a hint of paranoia for flavor. It's not exactly a flaw, but it does act as a detriment sometimes

And don't get him wrong, he doesn't always like being stubborn. Sometimes he just can't imagine things any other way than how he's picturing. He does feel bad sometimes about being the way he is. He has a hard time trusting things that aren't his gut or Rose

He's grown to like walks. He misses flying obv but walkies are pretty okay. He still gets to see neat stuff, and clear his head if his paranoia isn't too awful

He knows he's losing touch with reality slowly. He's just unaware there's words for it (derealization, dissociation). And he tries really hard not to think about it, it makes him sick with dread because once again, it gnaws at his ability to control his situation or himself

Btw that's one of his deepest fears if it wasn't obvious. Like yeah he has basic bitch fears that most other people have like losing loved ones or w/e, but his personal Big Fear is the loss of his autonomy. It's part of why he's an anarchist & hates the Federation, another part of why being flightless is killing him inside, and part of why Ender King scares him. Especially after Rose's most recent message (1/17/24) said EK has no vessel. Phil's mind shot right to "He needs a vessel and that vessel is me. That's what he wants."

He does NOT like acknowledging that to a degree, he & Ender King DO have things in common. He constantly rationalizes it in his brain as "I have crow brain, I collect the things that look shiny & cool. Ender King is malicious, it's not the same."

Lowkey hates the quiet. It's nice to get out of chaotic environments for bit, but that doesn't mean the silence will grant him peace. He starts getting lost in his own head, or winds up understimulated. Music is a good buffer. Ideally though, he likes having the kids or one person to bounce off of (& keep him mentally grounded when he's stressed). It's why he adventures with Fit so often.

Speaking of silence, and calling back to fears, there's something so inexplicably uncomfortable to him about footsteps that aren't his, esp in quiet. See, the admins invisible Federation workers that just monitor things, he can usually tolerate those bc it's easy to guess when it's them he's accompanied by & not an unknown presence. But man, when he knows he should absolutely be alone atm but hears movement that isn't his own, his adrenaline shoots through the roof. (Little does he know, that's Hardcore Instincts kicking in. He's used to that movement being a mob out to kill him)

Rose's Sanctuary is a fitting enough "altar" for her, so to speak. Even though she made it herself. The Goddess of Death however, Phil needs something for her. He has a locket with a wither rose engraved in it for now, he doesn't want to be questioned by his friends why there's a weird purple & black altar in his house when,,, he might have to tell them there's (an entirely different) purple & black motherfucker trying to maybe possess him who Is Very Bad. Also there's no way they'd believe he's married to a goddess. He can hear Fit laughing already.

He keeps getting distracted but he really wants to either build a practice range for bows or just. Go on a solo adventure shaking off the rust on his aim. He misses the rush of pride he gets when he snipes something so flawlessly. He also procrastinates on it when he's Not distracted bc he has the scythe & he's in love with it. (Also it's a symbol of Death Wife)

Every now and then he'll banter with the invisible Feds trying to bargain with them for the Good Shit(tm) Mexican food they had at Mexican Independence Day. Things have been so chaotic lately he hasn't gotten the chance to ask Chayanne to make them & like HELL he could successfully make them himself

That said, he's actually not a terrible cook like he claims. He just hates how laborious cooking can be LMAO.

Even so, he still really wants to cook for Missa. Purely for bonding reasons. He has no idea Missa would probably crush even harder on him, Phil still thinks they're mutually platonic.

[stvharrngton]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do the smut prompt "if you interrupt me one more time" (I can't remember the number). And if you're comfortable maybe making it kinda angsty to smutty? Either way, I know it'll be amazing because I'm obsessed with your writing!

here it is anon, hope you enjoy! lmk what you think 💕

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f receiving), cursing, angsty, steve is a menace

prompt: 69. “if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god” from this list (x)

Steve Harrington got on your nerves, insisting on it, actually. Knew exactly how to push and pull you, exactly what buttons to press and prod. The boy lived to rile you up, to leave the bait hanging in front of your pretty little face until you bit, you thought.

And he was doing exactly that tonight. He was on thin ice and you were about to snap any minute. Robin swore he only acted like this cause he liked you, a silly crush on his coworker he’d accidentally blabbed about when he wasn’t sober.

You scoffed when she told you, insisting that she was making the whole thing up. You weren’t children anymore, hell, you weren’t in highschool anymore either. If Steve liked you he had a funny way of showing it.

You were on the closing shift with him tonight at Family Video. Robin - your usual buffer between your bickering - on her day off, unfortunately. The store closed, the last of the cleaning and restocking duties underway and you’d be out of here and away from Steve in half an hour tops.

Door locked and open sign turned over, you started sifting through the last of the returned tapes ready to go back out. You glanced over your shoulder to see what Steve was getting up to but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Steve?” you called out to him, “Can you-“

“Get the vacuum? Already done it.”

“No,” you sighed, “I was gonna ask if-“

“Wipe down the counter? Consider it done.” He cut you off again, arms folding over his chest.

“Will you just listen?” You huffed, arms flapping at your sides, “I’m trying to ask if you could re-“

“Ring up the register?” He chuckled now, Steve knew he was pushing his luck now, “Come on, sweetheart, you know we did that 10 minutes ago.”

“Steve!” Your voice raised a little higher now, a little louder, “If you interrupt me one more time— so help me God.”

Steve’s eyes were set wide, eyebrows raised a pinch as a cheeky smirk painted his lips. He slipped out from behind the counter and sauntered over to you, moving the returns cart out from in front of you.

“Oh yeah?” Steve teased, “And what are you gonna do if I do?” Eyebrows quirked.

Steve was standing so close to you. Nose pointed down at your face, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. You watched as his gaze flitted to your lips and back up again, smirk still evident.

“I—“ you started but no words would come out, no witty comeback, no answer to his question, “Shut up.” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks.

Steve grinned at you. He was playing you like a fiddle and was enjoying it so much. Steve adored the way your cheeks would flush and your nose would wrinkle, how you’d pout your pretty lips at him.

“Make me.”

You took a second to look at him, really look at him. Lips upturned into a smirk, a glint of something in his big brown eyes. Something wanting, something teasing.

Oh, fuck it, you told yourself internally. Pulling Steve down to you by fisting the collar of his polo, crashing your lips to his. The kiss was heated, a mash of lips and tongue. It was desperate and messy and exactly what Steve wanted.

His large palms flew to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh over the material of your shirt. Steve kissed you stupid, kissed you breathless, panting into his mouth as you continued to paw at his firm chest.

When you walked into work that afternoon you never expected to be making out with Steve Harrington in the dim light of Family Video. If only Robin could see you both now.

Your hands traveled up Steve’s torso, his shoulders and neck until your fingers were cautiously carding through his hair. You always wondered what it felt like, the soft brown locks begging to be tugged and pulled and the content groan Steve breathed into your kiss told you he liked it.

Fingers dancing underneath the hem of your shirt, toying with the waistline of your skirt, breath hitching in your throat as your skin tingled all over. Steve walked you backwards until your back was pressed into the hardwood of the counter.

Steve pulled away from you with wet lips and heavy eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling the scent of your perfume, the boy pressed soft kisses into the skin there, teeth nipping and sucking, tongue soothing the now lavender marks he left.

You felt lightheaded, dizzy. Steve’s lips working you just right, sending shivers right down your spine.

“I’ve wanted this,” he breathed into you, “wanted to do this for so long.” His tongue darting out to lick at the shell of your ear, fingers dancing up your sides until his thumb rubbed at the skin below your tits.

“Yeah?” The sound short of a whimper, your thighs clenching at the thought of Steve wanting you like this.

“Babe,” he chuckled, “you have no fucking idea.”

Then his lips were on yours again, the kiss a little softer, a little slower this time. Steve licked into you with desire, his strong arms caging you into him between the counter.

Steve moved his hands to your waist again, large palms gripping you tightly to lift you onto the counter. The cold wood hitting the backs of your thighs, Steve taking his place between them. The boy squeezed your doughy thighs, fingers disappearing underneath the hem of your skirt.

“Steve,” you breathed, fingers tugging at his hair a little, neck stretched to the side so he could press those sweet little kisses you were growing to crave.

“What is it, sweetheart, hm?” His fingers tugged at the front of your shirt, pulling it down as much as it would allow so he could suck and nip marks into your chest.

You groaned, a high pitched whine keening from your throat. You didn’t want to say, didn’t want to admit the affect that Steve was having on you. So instead, you tugged on his hair more, bucking your hips forward subtly.

Steve grinned into your chest, chuckling at your ministrations, “Come on, baby, you can do better than that,” he taunted, hands groping at your tits over your shirt, “use your words.”

You huffed above him, head rolling back in frustration, “Just do something already, Harrington. Fuck.”

“Alright, alright,” he cooed, fingers pulling at the hem of your shirt, “can I take this off? Need to see those pretty tits.”

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching to pull it off, throwing it to the side. Left perched on the counter in only your skirt and pink lace bra.

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, brushing his thumb over your perky nipple, “Fuck,” he groaned. Pulling the material down so he could mouth at your tits, releasing the bud with a pop.

You moaned quietly, arching your back to push your chest into Steve’s face, “Steve, please.” You begged.

The boy hummed against your skin, fingers pushing your skirt up so it bunched around your waist, digits dancing over the soft cotton of your panties, “Want me to eat this pussy, hm? Is that what you want, sweet girl?”

“Yes, yeah, fuck-“ you whined, leaning back on your palms as Steve hooked his fingers into your underwear, pulling them down your legs.

Steve bent his body so his face was level with your core, gaze heavy on your glistening cunt, “Fuck,” he groaned, “look at you.”

He gripped your thighs, pushing them as far apart as your body would allow, Steve’s tongue darting out to lick a flat stripe up your pussy. You let out the sweetest moan at the feeling of his tongue on you.

He started out with slow, long licks into you. Savouring your taste on his tongue, Steve groaned into your pussy. He ate you out like a man starved, eyes closed, his brows pinched together, his nose nudging at your clit.

You mewled above him, hands flying to his hair, fingers carding through the locks, tugging at the ends. Your head was lulled back in pleasure, the familiar feeling in your lower stomach building and building. You bucked your hips up, essentially grinding onto Steve’s face as his lips sucked on your clit.

Steve smacked at your thigh lightly, scolding you for your impatience. He continued to suck on your clit harshly, face still buried in your cunt. You clenched at how good Steve was making you feel, skin hot and breath panting.

He pulled off you for a second, his face glistening with your arousal, a finger teasing at your hole, “That feel good? You gonna cum, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Steve, fuck,” you whined, “gonna cum, gonna cum.”

You chanted Steve’s name into the quiet of the store over and over again as his lips went back to sucking and licking you obscenely. The boy moaning and groaning into your cunt, the sounds he was making alongside the wet of your pussy was pure filth.

Crashing over the edge, you cried incoherent mumbles as your body tensed. Finishing on Steve’s tongue as he continued to lap at you, riding you through your orgasm. He stroked your thighs soothingly, lips pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin.

Standing up straight again he cupped your cheeks, lips crashing to yours in a searing kiss. Lips and tongues mixing together as you tasted yourself on his mouth, groaning at the taste.

“You sound so fucking pretty when you cum, babe, fuck,” Steve spoke into the kiss, “need to hear it again. Think you can give me one more, baby, can you do that for me?”

You keened at Steve’s words, his hands and lips on you. You nodded, “Yeah, Steve, I can do it,” you whined, “want you, please.”

“Shit— yeah, okay.” Steve babbled, cheeks flushing at your pleading. His hands fumbled with his belt and zipper but his lips never left yours, hissing into your mouth as he pulled his cock out.

Steve pulled back to spit in his own hand, fingers wrapping around his length, pumping himself a couple times. You gawped at his size, watching as he fisted his cock. His lashes flirted up at you, lips tugging into a smirk at your reaction.

Chucking, he pinched your chin between thumb and finger, “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I know you can take it,” lips brushing against yours, cock lined up with your entrance, “ready?”

You nodded into his kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths at the stretch. Foreheads resting against one another’s, lips moving softly and slowly.

This Steve was different. Even though he was still cocky, still confident, he was softer almost. A little less rough around the edges, you could tell there was some small part of him that cared, that wanted what’s best for you. And all you could do was melt around him.

He started the slow roll of his hips, his cock pumping in and out of your cunt at a steady pace. You were already a moaning mess, the stretch of his cock mixed with how deep he was pushing inside you enough to have you mewling.

“Fuck— pussy feels so good, so fucking warm.” Steve moaned, head resting against your shoulder as he quickened his pace. Hips snapping into you deliciously, the boy’s hands gripping onto your thighs for dear life.

Fingers digging into your flesh, lavender bruises a sweet type of pain, warmth rolling throughout your body at the sheer pleasure Steve was erupting within you. Your tits bounced with every thrust of his hips, your hands clawing at his shoulders, his hair, everywhere.

“Steve,” you whined, your second orgasm already building. Your head thrown back in bliss, your mouth hanging open. Pants and moans of his name and curses tumbling past your lips.

“Huh? Such a good girl, taking my cock like a good fucking girl,” he growled, voice raspy and gruff, “God- been dreaming about fucking this sweet little pussy for too damn long.”

“Oh,” you cried, stomach tensing as your vision went white hot, “shit, ‘m gonna cum, Steve.”

“Yeah?” he hushed, “gonna cum all over this fucking cock? Go on, baby.”

Steve’s words pushed you over the edge as you gushed around his cock, eyes squeezed shut as you whimpered into his skin. His thrusts never relented, hips still slapping into your still spread thighs, the boy chasing his own high as skin shone from the bright red ‘Family Video’ sign from behind the desk.

He wasn’t too far behind you, panting and groaning as his fingers dug into the fat of your hips. Hips stuttering and thrusts becoming slack, Steve cried out, “God, fuck—“ pulling his cock out, fist pumping himself as spurts of cum spilled out onto your puffy pussy, Steve’s forehead resting against your shoulder as he breathed hard and heavy.

You were a little hesitant to touch him, caress him as you both basked in your post orgasm haze. Deciding against your better judgement you raked your fingers through Steve’s hair soothingly, fingernails scraping at his scalp.

He hummed against your shoulder, lips pressing soft little kisses over the skin there. You smiled softly at his gesture, again seeing that different side of Steve.

You think you liked this one better.

[kai29haavertz]

It's About Time

WC: 3.5k

Summary: Your in love with your best friend, but he's in a dedicated relationship. Trouble ensues after a Chelsea game.

Genre: Fluff, light (if you could even call it that) angst, it's really hust two idiots pinning for each other.

fem reader, implied german reader but you can skip over that, it's like three lines referencing it.

Don't think they're any warnings, but it was horribly proofread so just keep that in mind.

The first time you met his girlfriend you didn't know what to expect. 

A part of you wanted her to be the best person possible for Kai. But another part of you, the small part of you that has loved him since you were kids, wanted her to be just even a little bit mean. Because then you could have justifications for your reservations towards their relationship. You wouldn't want to break them up. Even on the off chance she was mean, she made Kai happy. But at least you would have a justification and would feel better about feeling jealous of their new relationship. 

But that wasn't the case. 

When you met Sloane, she was anything but mean to you. She was the sweetest person and showed a genuine interest in your life, and that's better than any of his previous girls. But now you didn't have a reason to be disappointed about their relationship. How could you when she was everything Kai deserved in someone? She’s a gorgeous business owner who lived an hour or so from their hometown, sweeter than spice, and loved football. And on top of all that, his teammates adore her. When Kai invited Sloane to her first Chelsea game as a WAG, where you also met her for the first time, you could tell the boys loved her from the start. And it wasn't all of them thinking she was gorgeous, though some of those thoughts definitely were present in some of the teammate's heads. But regardless, they thought she was the best and perfect for Kai. 

Though after you first met Sloane, Kai of course had to ask for your input. He did that with everything, saying your opinion mattered the most to him. As much as you wanted to be the one in Sloane's position, you couldn't ruin their relationship, so you did the only thing you could do in that situation. 

"I adore her, she's so sweet and I think she's perfect for you." You assured him with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. But the lighting was dim at Ben's house so you prayed to anyone who was listening that he couldn't see through the facade you put up for him. You did think Sloane was wonderful, that wasn't a lie. You just wished it wasn't the two of them dating, but you'd lost your chance. There was a hint of something in his eyes, probably gratitude for your approval. He gave you a hug and whispered something in your ear, but you couldn't quite catch it over the loud music. You just smiled it off and hoped that was an appropriate enough response, you weren't in the mood to hear whatever he said. 

About six months later and their relationship is still going strong. Maybe you haven't moved on from Kai but at the very least you're able to keep your emotions in check. 

You’re at another Chelsea game. Only you and Sloane were here on Kai’s side today, which was a little awkward for you. Usually, his sister or mother were here and would act as a sort of buffer for the two of you. Especially since both Kai’s mom and sister have caught on at least a little bit about your slight crush on Kai. Thankfully, neither of them has really called you out on it besides a couple of comments and facial expressions here and there.  

But today it was just Sloane and you, and quite frankly, you weren’t sure what to do. Conversations between the two of you weren’t awkward per se, but they didn’t flow as if the both of you have been friends forever.  

Before the game starts Sloane suggests that you should get a drink with her. You both make small talk at the bar. You ask her about her business and how it’s going, and she asks you about the latest thing you’ve been designing for adidas. Like you said, she tries to take a genuine interest in your life and that makes it ten times harder to dislike them. It’s impossible. She flips her blonde face away from her head and has a more serious expression on her face.  

“So, you and Kai have been friends for a while, right?” The question catches you off guard. What prompted her to ask this? Have you been less stealthy about your crush? Or was she just curious. You had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. 

“Yes, we have. We met in primary school; we started becoming friends a couple months after I moved into the neighborhood. And I guess from there we just formed an unbreakable friendship.” You shrug it off, hoping that’s the end of that. You love talking about Kai but you’re afraid this conversation may soon turn into an interrogation.  

“Oh okay, that’s cute.” Sloane says off handedly and goes back to sipping her drink. It seems like she’s going to give the conversation a rest when a few minutes later she asks another question. “So, nothing has ever gone on with you and Kai?” You almost spit out your drink. You take a moment to assess her really quickly. Her green eyes are looking everywhere but you. You notice her perfectly manicured nails have almost a death grip on her drink and her hand is shaking ever so slightly.  

“Nothing has ever gone on between the two of us, at least not like that. We’ve just been friends our whole lives. No kiss no nothing.” You try to reassure her. She takes a deep breath, and she visibly relaxes.  

“Okay,” she says more brightly. She talks to you a little bit more about some problems she’s been facing with her business; but the game is about to start and neither of you want to miss Kai or his teammates’ play so she begins to meander her way to her seat.  

“I’ll be there in a moment; I have to take a phone call quickly.” She gives you a thumbs up as you start to walk away.  

Truthfully, you didn’t have to call someone. But you just needed one moment to regain yourself before you go out and spend 90+ minutes with Sloane and hope she doesn’t ask you another question about you and Kai. Nothing has ever gone on but the reminder stings sometimes. Especially with all the times you were close.  

 Last season at some event at one of his teammates' houses, you were both a little tipsier than you should’ve been. But it didn't matter at the time, you were both drunk off of happiness that Chelsea had won again, and Kai had scored a goal. You spent the entire night dancing and you two eventually went over to his house and spent the rest of the evening together. Before the two of you fell asleep you were watching a show in his bedroom with you snuggled up to his side and his arm draped over your shoulder. You felt so safe and protected and loved that in that moment, you swore you were going to pour all your feelings to him. He looked down at you and gave the softest of smiles and you were going to say something.  

 Of course the moment had to be interrupted by a phone call from someone. And that was the end of that. You couldn’t find the courage to do it when he got back so you pretended like you were asleep and left promptly the next morning.  

When you had finally composed yourself you returned to your seat next to Sloane and spent the next 90 minutes cheering for your boys in blue.  

The game told the same story as most of the other games this season. A scoreless tie for Chelsea as they continue to fall down the table. Despite it not being the result they wanted, the boys still wanted to go meet up at Ben’s place and hang out for a little bit. You and Sloane get a text from Kai in groupchat with the three of you inviting you to Ben’s place after.  

 Kai: I might be a bit if you two want to drive over, I’ll meet you there 

Sloane: Sounds good! 

“I can drive you over if you’d like. I know you drove over with Kai.” Sloane’s face lights up.  

 “Of course, thank you so much. I adore Kai but he’s going to be in a bad mood, and I’d rather not wait what could be an eternity for him.” You smile at her, and you lead her over to her car.  

 Ben’s girlfriend opens the door for the both of you.  

 “The boys should be here within the hour, make yourself at home, there are some drinks outside.” Laila offers it to you and Sloane. You grab some soda from outside and curl up on the couch scrolling through TikTok, waiting for everyone.  

By the end of the hour the Chelsea boys start to show up. Kai of course goes over to Sloane and says something in her ear before he makes his way over to you.  

“Not the greatest day at Stamford, was it?” He tries and jokes with you. You turn around and wrap him up in a big hug.  

 “Hey, you played amazing today, I’m sorry the score didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to.” You pull away from him, but he keeps an arm around your shoulder as boys start to talk about random things. It’s oddly intimate considering you’re not his girlfriend and he hasn’t let you leave his side yet. As Kai continues talking to Christian you see Sloane out of the corner of your eye, and you realize this isn’t fair to her. 

 “Excuse me, , I’ll be right back.” You get up rather abruptly and all but sprint past Sloane. She looks at you with something sad in her eyes.  

 You walk into one of Ben’s sitting rooms and shortly after someone joins you.  

 “Oh, hi Christian,” you say surprised. He takes a seat next to you. “Is there anything you need?”  

“When are you and Kai going to sort out your problems?” You almost choke on your drink.  

“I- what?” 

 “You heard me; you guys are perfect for each other and yet you always dance around each other,” he stated as you glare at him.  

 “I’m sorry, but where have you been? If he liked me so much, then why is he dating Sloane?”  

 “Because he thinks he doesn’t have a chance with you.” Your jaw tightens a little. This conversation is beyond stupid, and you do not want to deal with it. You go to get up, but he grabs your arm to prevent you from moving. 

“Well, I certainly don’t have one now because he’s in a relationship and no matter how much I love him I will not get in the middle of it. He is happy with her, and I won’t do anything to damage that.” Christian’s eyes widen at your declaration, and you realize what you said.  

 “I um- well,” you stammer incoherent nonsense.  

 “You guys deserve the world and I'm just so tired of you guys dancing around each other.”  

 “But he’s dating Sloane- “you start to argue.  

 “That relationship can’t last. And between you and me, I know Mason is trying to show that Kai isn’t being fair to Sloane,” he tries to reason with you as you slump back down on the couch. “Just promise me, you’ll shoot your shot when the time comes.”  

 “Fine, but if something bad happens I’m blaming it all on you,” you stated to him, and he just shakes his head at you.  

 “You can do that little German, but I can say with almost a 100% certainty that if they break up and you say something to him, the both of you will be so happy.”  

 He gets up to leave you alone for a bit.  

“Oh and little German? You would make a great WAG. But to be fair, you’re practically one already.” He sees your ears go bright pink at the statement and how your eyes shoot down to the ground to avoid his eye contact. He quietly laughs as he closes the door to leave you be.  

****** 

As the party comes to an end after a couple hours, Kai realizes he hasn’t seen you around since you went to one of the side rooms with Christian on your tail.  

“Ready Sloane?” Kai extends his hand to help Sloane up from the couch so they can get over to his place. He leads her to his car and the ride home is tense and someone could cut a knife through the tension.  

 “Sloane?”  

 “Just drive.” She responds curtly and goes back to staring out the window. After a few minutes she puts in her airpods to signal she doesn’t want to talk to him right now. As he pulls up to his driveway she rushes out of the car and punches the code into his garage. He takes a big sigh before getting out of the car, knowing what is probably to come for him.  

 He walks into his house and sees Sloane pacing around the couches in their living room.  

 “Sloane, love, sit down for me, will you?” She just glares at him before she takes a deep breath.  

“No and you know why? Because ever since we started dating you were attached to her hip, and I tried telling myself that it was just my imagination. And for a while I was able to believe that. But every once in a while something would happen between the two of you that would make me think otherwise.”  

 “Nothing has ever gone on between the two of us,” he tries to protest but the look she sends his way silences him.  

 “You don’t love me, and that’s okay. Maybe it took me a while to accept that but now I can because I just want you happy, and if that’s with her that’s okay.”  

 “Sloane, I love you,” he pleaded. 

“No, you don’t, you love her, but you don’t think you can have her, so you settled for me.” She snaps at him, not wanting to be hurt anymore. “It’s time you move on from me to her. And it’s time for me to move on from you. We don’t make sense together; we never did, and it took me too long to figure that out. But it’s not fair for any of us involved to continue with this relationship.” She starts to walk out the door and drops the keys to his and her house on the kitchen counter.  

“Despite the not so wonderful ending I am glad I met you.”  

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” he admits dejectedly. “I never meant for it to happen like this.” She turns to face him in the entrance. 

“I am too, but at least we didn’t drag it out any more than it needed to be.” She opens the door and takes a few steps outside towards her car. “Oh, and Kai? Please talk to her, you two deserve your happy ending.” She walks into her car and drives off.  

 Kai stands there defeated but knows what he needs to do next 

**** 

It’s late. Almost midnight. And you can’t even begin to fathom who just pulled up into your driveway. Lucky for whoever, most nights you can’t fall asleep until close to 2. A benefit of being a night owl. While walking over you take a peek out your window.  

 “Is that Kai’s car?” You murmur to yourself while you walk to the door that someone just knocked on.  

 You hope it’s one of your friends and nothing’s wrong, not really feeling having to run an errand so late at night.  

 You open the door and sure enough, it is Kai at the front. Eyes cast downward, as if ashamed he’s here so late.  

 “Kai, to what do I owe the pleasure. Come in, I was just moving stuff around in the kitchen.” He shakes his head at you slightly.  

 “Leave it to you to remodel in the middle of the night.”  

 You wink at him playfully. “It’s the late-night tendencies.” He takes a seat on your couch and you finally take a good look at him and see something is wrong. His eyes look bloodshot, as if he’s been crying for the last hour. His right pinky is twitching back and forth, something he only does when nervous. A habit that he mostly grew out of, but clearly not enough if he’s doing it in your presence.  

 “Kai, what’s the matter?” He looks up at you as you slowly sit next to him. He buries his head in your shoulder, and you raise a hand to it and scratch his hair lightly. He sits there and you let him decide if he wants to talk, not wanting to pry.  

 “Sloane and I broke up.” He tells you after a couple minutes sitting in silence.  

 “Oh Kai.” He cuddles deeper into your embrace as you wrap your other hand around your shoulders. You coax him into lying down on the couch on top of you. It’s like the days when you were teens and would watch movies late on the weekends when you couldn’t sleep. He would tease you about being restless but cuddling with him would always make you fall asleep quickly.  

 You move your nails up and down his back to help him relax. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask after a couple minutes.  

 “In a moment,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “Just wan’ to relax for a moment.” His accent is getting heavier, you notice. You continue to move your hand around his back in a soothing way for a while longer before he finally speaks up.  

 “We broke up because I wasn’t faithful.” You lightly gasp.  

 “You never touched anyone though,” you try to protest but he just shakes his head.  

“Not like that. My heart wasn’t in it, and she realized it.”  

He stays like that for a while longer, you look over to the clock and see it’s almost His breathing hasn’t changed so you know he hasn;t fallen asleep yet. With your heart in your throat, you ask the one question you’ve been dying to ask.  

“Why wasn’t your heart in it Kai?”  

“Schatz-” he starts to protest before you cut him off.  

“Kai, love, why wasn’t your heart in it?” 

He looks into your eyes before he takes a deep breath.  

 "Because I love you,” he admits quietly before his head falls down into your shoulder in embarrassment. “Don’t make me say it again,” he begs softly,softly, and you feel a tear run down your shoulder blade.  

“That’s a shame, because I quite like how those words sound coming off your lips. Especially when they’re directed at me.” You say quietly and his eyes shoot up.  

 “You mean,” he trails off slightly.  

 “Yes Kai, I love you too.” His strong arms wrap around you.  

 “Say that again, exactly like that. Like you mean it.”  

 “I love you, Kai. I don’t think you understand how long I've been wanting to admit that for.”  

“Not as long as me.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ve been waiting since we were ten.” You look at him in disbelief and his gaze locks with yours. He gives a sheepish smile.  

“So, you’ve been hopelessly in love with me since forever and didn’t act upon it until tonight?” You ask incredulously.  

“Thought I never had a chance with you,” he admits with a shrug. “And Sloane said that I should stop dancing around you and find my happy ending.”  

“I am sorry you two broke up,” you tell him with a hint of shame. “I never wanted to get in between the two of you.”  

“I am too, but it was for the best. And don’t worry about it, it wasn't your fault. It’s my fault for entertaining something that could never truly be.” He moves his head under yours and wraps his arms together around your frame, like he was a kid reaching for his teddy bear in the middle of the night.  

“Kai, I love you, but we can't stay like this the entire night.” He pushes you back down as you try to squirm out of his grip.  

 “Five more minutes Schatz, let me enjoy this.” You shake your head but give in.  

 “Fine, five more minutes then we’re moving to my bedroom. We have a lot more to talk about in the morning.”  

 “This is it right? We’re together?” He stares into your eyes, involuntarily giving you the puppy dog eyes. He leans into your touch when you stroke his hair with your hand.  

 “Yes, don’t worry, you’re it for me and I have no intentions of letting you go.” He lets out a shuddering breath at your confession. He leans in for a kiss on the lips. It’s tentative and sweet and slow.  

 “I love you Schatz.” 

“I love you too.” There’s a lot to discuss tomorrow. More reassurances to give on both of your parts. But for now, you can lay peacefully in each other's arms, without any worries.  

[ihni]

He doesn't remember his mother's face.

He has knowledge of what she looked like - knows that she had long blonde hair and freckled skin and a kind smile - but when he closes his eyes, he can't picture her. It's been years, and he has no photographs left of her; Neil threw them all out. He thinks (wants to think) that he would recognize her if he ever saw her again, but there is a nagging thought whispering what if you don't? In that regard, it was almost a relief to move to Hawkins. At least here, he won't risk seeing her in the streets and walk past his own mother because he doesn't know her face anymore.

He also doesn't remember his mother's voice.

Her voice was the first thing about her that he forgot. He knows what she used to tell him, has written down a few things he doesn't want to forget, but he can't imagine the words being said by her. There was a song that she used to sing to him before putting him to bed when he was little - a song they'd made up themselves, made out of mostly nonsense words - and he remembers the song itself. Remembers the notes and the words. But when he hums it to himself at night, curled up in bed and long after everyone else has gone to sleep, all he can hear is himself.

He doesn't remember what his mother smelled like.

When she'd just left, he snuck one of the dresses she left behind into his room before Neil could throw it out, and hid it under his pillow. He remembers taking comfort in the vague scent of her perfume - something flowery and sweet - even though it faded and was gone in only a couple of days. Just as well, really, because Neil found the dress and took it away, slapped him and called him a pussy for crying about it. Told him that it was his fault his mom left, for having such a pathetic excuse for a son.

He can't recall if his mother was ever proud of him.

He knows she used to follow him to the beach when he was little, and stay in the sand while he played in the water. He would wave at her from his board when he'd managed to stay on it, and she would wave back from the shore. Her dress flowing in the breeze, her hair golden under the sun, her smile ... Because she was smiling, wasn't she? Staying on the board might not have been that impressive a feat for a grown woman, but surely she would have been smiling - to indulge him, if nothing else. Right?

He doesn't know if his mother ever really loved him at all.

She must have, at some point. She fed him, sang to him, watched over him as he played. Acted as a buffer between him and Neil, and kept him safe. Well. For a while, at least. Because eventually, she left. You don't leave someone you love, Billy thinks. Maybe she was all out of love at that point. Maybe there was never really there to begin with. Maybe she only fed him and watched over him and stood between him and Neil because of some sort of sense of obligation. A chore, not love. Billy knows all about that. He's doing the same now, with Max. He doesn't love her, but he doesn't want her to get hurt. The difference between him and his mom, is that he can't make himself leave. And if he can't even leave a snot-nosed brat who's not even his real sister ... Then his mother probably never truly loved him. Probably barely tolerated him, just like Neil says.

Sometimes, he's not sure his mother existed in the first place.

She feels like a dream. A concept. Something fractured and broken and impossible to put back together into something whole. He knows she existed but he doesn't remember. His memories are filtered through years of pain and fear, through layers upon layers of harsh words and vitriol. He tries to imagine her as the mother he hopes she was, but that person is a stranger now. Impossible for him to relate to. He is motherless. He grieves, and he yearns, for something he might very well never have had. Something he will never have again.

And he misses her.

[annabannnananana]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ vi x skinny!reader & vi x buff!reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hcs for vi x fem!reader - skinny!reader & buff!reader

word count: idk man i’m not counting all that

tw: none, unless you get triggered by mentions of skinny!reader being skinny/ thin/ underweight/ etc or of vi groping/stroking buff!reader’s muscles ig

a/n: i have…. absolutely no idea how this came to me. but it did. so. enjoy ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ vi x skinny!reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

• vi is very protective of you since she’s worried you’ll get hurt esp in a fight cus you’re so thin

• you always reassure her that you know how to handle yourself and she doesn’t need to worry

• but she still worries ofc - she really wants you to be safe

• she works out with you all the time to make sure you’re doing the right exercises to maintain muscle strength, even if you don’t build a lot of visible muscle

• she loves hugging you bcus you’re so easy to wrap her arms around <3

• and she loves picking you up and swinging you around like vander always used to do to her when she was little!

• she likes laying on your chest, like while you’re cuddling or watching something or eating together or really doing anything, cus your defined ribs (still significantly softened by your flesh & muscle ofc, but pretty bony) feel kinda like the thin beds she and powder used to sleep on when they were kids

• constantly checking on you to make sure you’re eating enough and that you feel good and that you’re not hurt

• ofc she’d do this with her partner no matter what but she esp checks up on you all the time cus you’re skinny/underweight

• it’s not an extremely important issue to her since you’re very healthy and fit, just a bit thin/underweight, but vi does still make sure you’re ok at all times - she just doesn’t what to make you feel like she’s constantly worried about you when you can take care of yourself or that she has to worry about you just cus you’re a bit skinny (even tho it is nice being babied by her sometimes)

• vi also doesn’t want you to feel like a baby just cus you’re a little thin, she tries not to talk to you like you’re a child, tries not to hover over you or treat you like a kid that can’t handle themself

• but she does try to be gentle when she talks to you and is always asking you if you need anything, if she can do anything for you, if you’ve eaten today, etc

• it’s funny cus to you she’s sweet and kind and caring and gentle - 4 words most people who know vi would never associate with her

• “hey muffin! how you doing? need anything? no? alright, just wanted to let ya know i love you and i’m here for you. hey, have you eaten today? no??? do you want me to make you something? yea, i’ll go make you some toast, anything for you, muffin. love ya!”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ vi x buff!reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

• she loves your muscles

• always gripping and stroking and touching them whenever she can

• not without consent, until you’ve been dating awhile and you’ve established she can touch your muscles whenever she wants

• vi is pretty buff herself, so to her it’s like a competition to see who can get buffer - you vs her

• she loves showing you off to everyone like “hey guys look at my buff gf isn’t she so cool”

• and then she’ll always be like “but i’m buffer ofc right guys” and you usually end up having to give her a brutal noogie

• loves smacking your ass all the time bcus like the rest of you it is also very buff and “muscley” as vi likes to say

• she’ll just be walking around the house if you’re standing, maybe you’re cooking or something, she’ll just walk up and slap your ass

• she thinks it’s the most hilarious thing in the world

• she loves working out with you and doing strength competitions (e.g. arm wrestles, how many push ups can you do in 1 min, how many pull ups can you do on a gymnast bar before you give out, etc) bc it’s a lot more fun for her with someone as buff (if not more, which she’d never admit that you’re buffer) as her

• sometimes when you two are bored you’ll pretend to be damsels in distress and act out romantic plays where the super buff hero saves the damsel in distress from danger and then the damsel’s all “my hero!” and they kiss and get married and that’s the happily ever after (aka where you and vi ran out of ideas to keep the plot going)

• sometimes you two just carry each other around the house just for the fun of it, and to prove that one of you can carry the other and hop on one leg up the stairs while balancing a stack of plates on their leg

• vi usually tricks you into doing this, purely for her amusement, and you can usually tell when she’s tricking you (into anything, not just carrying her) but you go with it anyway cus it’s fun and you love to see her smile <3

• “hey guys, have you met my girlfriend? no? oh well, her name’s y/n, she’s super buff as you can see. but i’m buffer of course right? hey - muffin - ow! quit it! hahaha! y/n! stop!” **

** end was vi getting noogied by y/n lol

please tell me if there’s anything you think should be removed or changed! i love feedback!

thanks for reading, please like & reblog if you enjoyed <3

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.80 Favor ain't fair

I couldn't help but watch the elders and how they dealt with each other. All of us had long since gotten used to this post-divorce world we lived in. Though everyone had moved on, I expected Winterfest to be very weird. Me seeing Dwayne with Mama or Dad hearing about him from me was one thing, but having them in the same room was another. Dad made a lot of progress, but was he ready for that? I had prepared to be a buffer or make an excuse for him, but he looked surprisingly comfortable. Dwayne was the one who was hesitant. He had always been reserved and comfortable in the background, however, so he could have been okay. Mama was all smiles, of course. Heh, this was probably the best day of her year with her kids and both lovers at home. I watched them all with pride despite feeling like it was all very weird. It took a LOT for all of them to get to that place. I honestly doubted Dad would ever get there, but he walked around Mama's house grinning up a storm and peacefully sharing a space with the man who took away his soulmate. Winterfest miracles did exist.

After dinner, Rosie found me, and I gave her some holiday love.

"Happy Winterfest, Ro! You've been a very good girl. You think Father Winter will bring you a nice treat?"

Alessia stood there watching us, and I hoped she would do better with our dogs than she did with Tofu.

"Did you meet your auntie yet?"

"Ehhhhh...hi," Alessia said stiffly.

I laughed.

"She's not gonna bite you, Less. Just put your hand out slowly and let her smell you. If she thinks you're okay, she'll let you touch her."

"Okaaaaay." She bent over slowly and cautiously. "I'm coming down...don't be weird..."

Rosie stepped toward her equally as cautious, sniffed her hand, and then sat in front of her.

"See? She likes you. Give her a pat on the head so she knows you're friendly."

"That was really cool. She's cute."

She never gave Tofu a chance. Maybe Rosie and Kooper will win her over.

Mama came in with the dirty dishes and caught Less and I having seconds.

"Hey! Don't fill up on that. There's dessert, you know."

Dwayne left shortly after dinner. He said wanted us to enjoy our family time. I could see the disappointment in Mama's eyes and imagined her saying something like, "but you're my family too." Dwayne was a realist, and I appreciated that because Mama's fantasy land was gonna get someone's feelings hurt eventually.

It was time for presents, and I caught a glimpse of Less and Sophia dancing in the living room as I passed by. Whether they had bonded or it was just coincidence, I was glad to see them together, not in conflict.

"Luca," Mama sang, "I've got something extra special for you!"

Alessia rolled her eyes.

"Here she goes with the special gifts just for Luca."

"It's not a special gift! It belongs to him."

She handed me a box, and I took it hesitantly. What did she have of mine? And why make a big deal out of it on Winterfest? She wasn't the re-gifting type.

"Uhh...thanks," I said.

I took the box and opened it slowly. Inside, I saw a painting I'd seen my entire life. It hung in my room when I was little. And then when we moved to Newcrest, Mama put it in the kitchen. I seemed to recall one time Mama said Gammy painted some things for my nursery before I was born. This had to be one of them!

"Gammy's painting?? You're gonna let me have it?!!"

"She painted it for you. The one with the dogs too, but I want to hold on to that one."

"Yeah, of course! Wow! Thanks, Mama. This is so cool!"

I thought about our frigid meeting in the cemetery often. I loved that I now had evidence of our past relationship and would hang it in a place of honor in our new house.

After presents, we gathered around the tree and sang songs. And as always, Less acted like she was too cool for school. That only made us turn up and be even sillier. At least she was in a good mood, though. At the end of the night, she sat on the rocking chair doing belly laughs. It was very contagious, so I joined in. Mama came in and told us a story about how Father Winter came to their house in Sulani while she was doing belly laughs. He thought it was adorable and gave her some tips! And just like how it happened in her story, Father Winter walked in on her doing a belly laugh demo for us.

"I remember you," he said. "You still go it."

"Thank you, Father Winter! This is my son, Luca! He's getting married soon!"

"Yes," he said, "I've been watching him. He's been very good this year. This is one of my extra special gifts."

I didn't know what to think. An extra special gift from Mama, and another from The Man himself? And I was getting married in three days to the kindest, sweetest, funniest woman in the world? It was all too much. I thought about everything I'd gone through and how burdened and confused I was. All of that was a test. I held on and did the best I could, and now I was being rewarded. Not with a gift from Father Winter, but in love, success, favor, and friendship. I had already reckoned with my problems, but at that moment, I felt like the struggle was officially over.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Steve falls first but Eddie falls harder angst

(possibly with a happy ending)

Steve is crushing on Eddie. It was scary at first, because feelings for another guy, but he's gotten used to it and now that nice, bubbly, new crush feeling overpowers the fear. It also feels good because he's, like, 99% sure Eddie feels the same way. He always finds reasons to hang out with Steve, even in group settings, and he flirts a lot – he obviously likes Steve. And now that Steve has come to terms with his newfound sexuality he's ready to make the move.

Except.

Before he can, he gets in a situation where Eddie's attention is grabbed by someone else, and Steve finds himself with front-row tickets to Eddie flirting like that with someone else. Doing more with someone else. Maybe Eddie kisses someone during a CC gig (idea stolen from @bleedingoptimism's little fic – if you haven't read it yet I think you should, because it's an all pov inclusive, and Steve gets to be friends with the CC boys, and all the parts are bite-sized so you can breeze through it).

Or, if Eddie is gay and can't openly kiss another dude, maybe they're at a club and Steve notices them in a dark corner after they've flirted in front of him. Or he goes to Eddie’s home and finds them the morning after (after they spent the night flirting in front of him).

And he's fucking heartbroken. He was so sure Eddie felt the same. 100% sure, actually, he just said 99% to be modest. But, um. Seems he was wrong. He is wrong a lot.

He should move on.

He does that by putting distance between them. Nothing blatant. Just starts being too busy to hang out one on one, and having Robin be a buffer and a distraction that's permanently glued to his side when they're in a group.

But Eddie of course notices that his favorite guy is being weird around him. Why, though! Steve won't tell him, and neither will Robin (she's been downright icy lately). Wayne is likewise stumped (and as upset as Eddie, because he likes having Steve around). The kids have less of an idea why, because they didn't even realize something was going on. Nancy, Jonathan, and CC boys have noticed, but Steve doesn't talk to them.

It ends up being Argyle (observant king!) who connects the dots for Eddie. And oh! Oooooh! Steve likes him? Steve likes him? That's... That's amazing! Because now that he thinks about it, Eddie likes him too. How couldn't he!

Eddie rushes over to Steve. He's a bag of nerves, since they haven't really been together for some weeks and Steve looks great, but Eddie's got this. They talk it out, which mostly consists of Eddie explaining he finally realized why Steve has pulled away and apologizing for not getting it sooner. An embarrassed-to-have-been-caught Steve says it's fine, and also apologizes for the vanishing act. It's just, he needed it. He needed to get over it.

Eddie forgives him. Now they're on the same page and can be together. Steve frowns a little and says maybe they should keep being friends. This baffles Eddie. Steve likes him and he likes Steve; why not be together? Sure, they'll have to sneak around. Yes, it'll be dangerous. Of course, they-

Steve interrupts him. He folds his arms, but ends up hugging himself. Hunches his shoulders and tucks his chin, as if to hide.

"That's not it," Steve says quietly. "I got over it."

It's like a bucket of ice water on Eddie's head.

What does he mean? 'Over it'? How can he be over it? He likes Eddie.

So Steve explains that he was certain they had something, but seeing Eddie with someone else numbed the feelings a little? And now that he's gotten a few weeks to lick his wounds and deal with it he managed to get rid of them. He's over it.

This upsets Eddie. How the fuck can he just be over it. Eddie just figured this out and now Steve... that's not fair. Why didn't Steve talk to him about it?

Steve snaps back at him, angrily asking forgiveness for letting go of what appeared to be an ill-advised crush. Like, excuse him for trying to protect himself.

Eddie leaves, dejected.

Later, he's bemoaning the situation to Robin, who's finally stopped being cold to him. A good thing, because he likes talking to her and she's got that precious Steve-insight Eddie craves. He asks her if Steve was telling the truth. Because Eddie can't believe it. After all, Steve was hung up on Nancy for ages – how could he get over this so fast?

Robin tilts her head, eyeing him carefully.

"Yeah, but Eddie," she says. "You're not Nancy."

And, shit. He's not. He was never with Steve. They didn't move from infatuation to love. Hell, Steve and Nancy's romantic relationship, shortlived as it was, lasted longer than the time Steve and Eddie have been friends. 'Steve and Eddie' is a tiny blip compared to 'Steve and Nancy'. How the fuck could Eddie compare them?

The boys end up awkward for a while before eventually returning to being friends. They're cool again. Mostly. Because, uuuuuggggghhh, Eddie can't let go of things the way Steve obviously can. He gives himself 100% to his feelings. He buries himself in them. And soon enough he's in love. He's yearning. Nothing will happen, though.

Because he's not Nancy.

And Steve is over it.

Those who like the taste of pain can stop reading now.

Those who, like me, won't accept angst unless it ends happily:

They do get together in the end. Having been told that the feelings are reciprocated after all, and being shown it when Eddie mopes around and stares longingly at him from afar, like a sad pine, kinda reignites Steve's feelings. Or maybe just awakens them from their slumber because he wasn't quite so over it after all.

Because Eddie isn't Nancy. But he also isn't Heidi-Linda-Brenda, a pretty face to smile at for a dinner or two, trying it out before going 'nope, next'.

They're closer than that. They mean more to each other than that. And they're willing to put the effort into it.

So they do.

(Eddie is so fucking possessive at the start. His first real relationship that he almost missed out on? He's never letting go of Steve ever again.)

(Steve, who gives as good as he gets, loves it.)

[forlorn-crows]

A pair I've kind of made myself but I'm trying to see your opinion on it; Mountain and Mist?

i think i def made a "rare pair this, rare pair that: mountain and mist" post at one point . . .

first of all, the sheer size difference of them, in every sense of the word. the way they compliment but also work as opposites of each other. i never really think about the encounters they likely had when mountain came into the picture, how ivy and her worked as quick, slap-dash mentors to him and dew. those four probably spent a lot of time together, and i think ivy and dew kind of acted as a buffer between mountain and mist.

he's just. so shy when he's first summoned. maybe not shy shy, but hesitant. reserved. whereas mist is super secure in herself, even if she's also the quiet type. she can come off as brash, intimidating, but she probably thinks he's endearing. hopes he comes into his own, you know?

i think she'd be very intrigued to see the ghoul he is now, whether you hc her to be 'gone' or not after the all transitions. mountain has his dominant moments, but mist? oh, mist can so easily give him a run for his money. can pull out all the soft spots from anyone, but especially a ghoul like mountain. to me, her and dew (and adjacently, zephyr) are very similar, so i think he'd be pretty amicable with her in general. and i think they could challenge each other in a good way, however you wanna take that. easy to be 'business-like' in the beginning, but also easy to fall into a nice friendship. i could also see them as a younger brother/older sister dynamic, that seems to fit them well.

what do you think? 🩵