#say anything about the shitty neck and your homophobic

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

good luck, babe! [e.w x fem!reader.]

chapter one.

author's note!<3 - this is inspired by chappell roan's unreleased song good luck, babe! i lllloooovveee chappell roan! this was originally going to be just a LONG ASS one-shot but i don't think i can write any more tonight 😭😭 . BUT I REALLY WANNA PUBLISH IT SO HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS LIKE IT!!!! also forgive me if there's any grammar/spelling errors... i'm posting this at 12:59 am🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶 . reblogs and comments are SO appreciated!!! i busted my ass for y'all 🤗 .

content warnings - SLIGHT angst, reader has internalized homophobia and is outright homophobic to ellie, reader is in the closet, ellie is a lovergirl and she's going through the five stages of grief, modern!au, reader gets sexually assaulted/harrassed, LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING ELSE!!!!

special thanks to!!!!: @sharkfemme and @dykedearest FOR HELPING ME OUT!!!!!! and also LYNN AND MAXIM!!! ALL FOUR OF YOU ARE AMAZING BETA READERS I'M KISSING YOU ALL THROUGH THE PHONE RN!!!

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it's fine, it's cool.

ellie's grip on her glass got impossibly tighter as her eyes never left your figure, your body swaying to whatever shitty mainstream pop music that was playing.

ellie williams hated secrets. she hated surprises, and she hated being in love with you.

she hated the way you would ghost her after spending a week at her apartment. she hated the way you would stop responding to her texts after you would leave. she hated the way she would let you back in when you needed her, she hated how much she loved to comfort you. she hated how gentle you were when it was just the two of you, compared to how cruel you got in public.

you can say that we ain't nothin' when you know the truth.

ellie took her hand off the glass and gripped the bar table instead, afraid that if she broke another glass she'd be banned from the bar.

you were like forbidden fruit to her, or maybe that was what she was to you.

she knew you weren't ready to come out of the closet. she understood that. so, why keep on playing this fucking game with her?

why did she even still feed into it?

i guess i'm, the fool.

the closet was made out of glass, really. you would stare at every woman's body that passed you, your eyes would scan up their short dress, she could see the curiosity and desire in your face.

but every single time after you two would hook up, there was always a new excuse.

"i'm not a fucking lesbian, ellie. i just... don't like men sometimes." sometimes?

"they're just stupid thoughts... it's not like i could ever be with a woman." but you had been. you had been with her.

"ok but... do you even count as a woman? you wear boxers, you don't even know the meaning of the term ladylike and... i don't know- look at your fuckin' hair! the closest you'd get is a transwoman." that one had hurt her. she didn't talk to you for a month after you made that comment. and then you appeared in her apartment complex hallway, sobbing hysterically.

and of course, she took you back.

like she always does.

with her arms out like an angel, through the car sun-roof.

she hated playing this fucking game with you. it was killing her.

every single time she'd see you at this bar, she imagined you dragging her onto the dancefloor. she imagined being able to walk out with your hand in her's, waking up to your groggy groans when the sun invaded the sacred space of your shared bedroom, you'd hide your face in her neck, mumbling something about, "shouldn't have drank that much last night."

every single time you pulled this shit on her, it felt like her already shattered heart broke off into impossibly tinier pieces.

"i wish you were a boy." crack.

"it's not easy for me like it is for you, els. i don't know the first thing about being proud of myself." crack.

"this hurts me more than you, baby." shattered. her heart was shattered.

it hurts you more than her?

the fucking audacity.

the nights she spent crying next to your sleeping figure.

the hours she'd spent texting you and checking her phone second after second after goddamn second.

the way she would ignore every single obligation she had to pick you up from whatever shit-hole situation you had found yourself in, immediately and happily dropping anything to make sure you were ok.

and it hurt you more than it hurt her?

you didn't know shit about hurt. about misery. about love.

i don't wanna cut it off!

her friends had told her to cut you off. her therapist said in his own professional shrink way that you would never be good for her. at least not while you weren't even good for yourself.

but she couldn't let you go. it seemed like every reason that she had to leave you, fuelled her determination to stay.

but you don't wanna call it love!

every single time you somehow broke her heart in a new way, she fell harder in love with you.

you just wanna love someone that calls you baby!-

ellie was pulled out of her internal anger when your eyes met hers. although it was only a few seconds ago, it felt like she was staring into your eyes for an eternity.

don't fuckin' wave, ellie. look away- LOOK AWAY. , she thought to herself as she was unable to look away from your beautiful irises.

you had this slight smile on your face, the dancefloor's led lights adding a shimmer to your already twinkling eyes.

it felt like her melancholy thoughts had lifted and increased all at the same time by the sight of you acknowledging her presence.

ellie went against her better judgement, her slender hand flying up to wave at you. her lips quirked upwards gently as she scanned your delighted face.

your light expression quickly turned into one of frustration, suppressing your grin with a tightening of your lips before pulling the nearest man close to you in for an unexpected kiss, opening your eyes once you knew the mystery man's were closed, locking your eyes onto ellie's before closing them once more.

the light had died in ellie's stomach after that. her happy hand that was raised in the air faltered painfully back to her side as she watched the man's hands roam down from your sides... to your waist... to your ass.

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars,

those butterflies that she had just felt in her tummy had died slowly, turning into knots of anguish.

she watched your hands cradle the man's face. those same hands that had counted each and every freckle on her face on a snowy morning that had you both stranded in her apartment.

those same hands that had a death-grip on her back as you sobbed into her shoulder every other weeknight as she tried to muffle her own cries.

those same hands that had shoved her violently as she finally tried to stand her ground one afternoon you showed up knocking on her door. "you know what... fuck you, ellie! i don't know why i keep on doing this shit with you anyways." you said, before storming off. you called her later that night. she answered. "i'm sorry, els. i'm sorry, i'll do better, i'm so sorry-" , "it's ok, baby. it's ok. i know you didn't mean it. you're ok baby, i forgive you."

shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling!

she would've stayed in that seat, stewed in her anger for a bit more before the tears inevitably came falling down if it wasn't for the way the dude's hands creeped under your skin-tight jeans and how you flinched away from his grasp, breaking the kiss immediately with a nervous giggle creeping up.

the guy obviously took it as an invitation to do more, placing his hand back on your waist and agressively pulling you closer.

you can say it's just the way you are,

ellie's head tilted as she watched this go down.

what she wanted to do was launch that creep into the nearest wall and make sure he never tainted your body again. but she didn't want to get up too soon, she wanted to be certain that you needed help, whether you wanted it or not.

your hand stopped him from coming any closer, placing it right before his chest. you said something along the lines of, "don't want to do anything." .

make a new excuse, another stupid reason-

instead of him being a decent human being and leaving you alone, his face quickly turned into one of anger. his jaw jutted out as he tried to pull you in again, leaving you thrashing against his body.

how was no one else seeing this? why was no one else doing anything?!

she didn't even have time to process what she was about to do. her feet were on the ground, marching their way towards you before she could even think about her course of action in a smart way.

"let me go, fuckin' creep!" she heard you shriek as she grew closer to you, attempting to elbow him in the chest.

ellie felt like no matter how fast she was walking, she would never make it to you in time.

he laughed tauntingly as he grinded against. "i'm the creep, bitch?! you kissed me f-"

his last word was stolen from him as ellie forcefully pushed him off you with and landed a blow against his nose.

he groaned in pain, falling to the ground as he cradled his now-broken-nose.

you gasped in shock and horror. "what the fuck, ellie?!" you scolded her. as if you would've been fine on your own.

she ignored your words though, pulling the guy's hand away as she forced another punch to his face.

now people were finally looking.

she didn't stop until she felt your hands on her stomach, pulling her away from the scene.

"she fuckin'... said... no!..." ellie's voice thundered, erratic breaths in between her words before bringing one last painful kick to his face before letting you lead her out of the bar and into the night air.

you didn't stop even after you two were at the entrance door of the establishment, you made sure the two of you were far enough away that ellie wouldn't be caught if the police were called.

she couldn't help but feel those stupid fucking butterflies again as your hand gripped hers and felt a little disappointed when you dropped it, suddenly all too aware that you were still in public.

her green eyes met your own, yours filled with anger and chaos... hers filled with love.

"hey, swan." the auburnette sighed out simply, that stupid love-grin back on her face as she was finally close to you.

your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as your hands went to massage your temples. you let out a humorless giggle. "you're so... fucking stupid, ellie!" you exclaimed, shoving her chest as if she was in the wrong.

her grin turned into a confused frown as she surrendered her hands in the air, her eyebrows mirroring your own now. "wh-wh....what-"

good luck, babe!

"god, you have this severe goddamn saviour complex or some shit!... i was fine! i was fucking fine on my own before you marched in and assaulted that guy."

well good luck, babe!

you gaslighted beautifully, defending the man you knew nothing about over the woman who was fatally in love with you, she almost believed you.

ellie's frown turned into an angry smile as she brought a hand to gently wipe over the bridge of her nose, a mannerism of her's she had developed whenever she got frustrated with you.

"assau-... ok, sure-... you wanna talk about assault, baby? that fuckin' guy would've assaulted you if i didn't step in. he was assaul-"

you shut your eyes tightly the way you do when you wanted to block something out that ellie was obviously right about. you shook your head stubbornly. "gggoddd ellie- it was my fault! i wanted it and then i didn't. i shouldn't have- i shouldn't have kissed him in the first place. i gave him mixed signals, i-"

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling!-

your eyebrows grew dangerously closer to your face as you cradled your head in your hands.

ellie was quick to walk right back to you, caressing your arms.

"what? baby, no. no, it's not your fault... that- that fuckin' guy... hey... look at me, sweetheart." she cooed lovingly.

good luck, babe!

you slowly brought your hands away from your face, meeting her breathtaking green eyes.

you wanted to fall into her arms, you wanted to thank her for coming to your rescue and kiss her and confess to her how scared you truly were.

but you didn't. you never did.

your slightly calm expression that came over you once you met your secret lover's gaze turned into one of annoyance. ellie was, like always, taken by surprise as you thrashed against her grip, just like the way you did with that monster in the bar.

good luck, babe!

ellie's eyes blurred with tears as she watched your face turn into a grimace.

"fuck you, ellie." you said quietly as you broke free from her hands, storming off into the night. leaving her. like always.

you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

[skiiyoomin]

could you write a kineshi hairo x male reader boyfriend headcanons??

ღKineshi Hairo with a boyfriend

ʚCont: male! reader, swearing, fluff, not proofread

⤑Back to navigation

Up until he met you, he had never really thought about his sexuality or what his preferences were. In fact, he never really considered relationships at all since his focus was on entirely different things.

You were a new transfer to the school and Hairo, as friendly as ever, introduced himself and offered a quick tour around the school. You hit it off almost immediately. Your personalities balanced each other out really well and Hairo was pleased to know you had similar interests. Ever since that day, things just kind of went naturally. There wasn´t any awkward tension that most people would have in the earlier stages of a friendship. Instead, it felt like you had known each other your whole lives.

It was during this time that Hairo began to develop feelings for you, though he wasn´t aware it was romantic attraction. He always assumed the fluttering in his belly and the tightening in his chest was caused by his affection for you as a friend. It wasn´t until you had hugged him tightly one day that he began to question if that was the case.

You had had a pretty shitty day for the most part, and Hairo naturally noticed your sour mood. He had offered a shoulder to cry on and vent about your feelings or anything that came to mind. But he was taken aback when your arms slithered around his torso, resting your cheek in the crook of his neck. You´re so warm, is the first thought that crossed his mind. In that closeness, the scent of your cologne filled his nostrils, making him lightheaded in the best way possible. His heart was banging against his ribs, and if you noticed, you didn´t point it out.

Things went back to normal after that. You didn´t hug him again and he didn´t have the courage to tell you to repeat the action. He´s normally someone who faces his problems head on. But he was conflicted. Did he fall for you? Did you like him back? There was a constant turmoil in his mind that he could never push away, no matter what he did to distract himself. He had to talk to you, he concluded.

It took him a while to bring up the topic. He found out, that it was a lot harder than he imagined. At last though, he managed to bring it up, hoping you wouldn´t catch on to his nervousness. However, the conversation helped him ground himself back to earth and possibly make a move on you.

Hairo tried to be subtle, to make small moves on you that weren´t too obvious. But, at the end of the day, he´s a boisterous guy, and being straightforward was his suit. The more he waited the more agitated he grew, he couldn´t stand waiting around much longer. Which is why, ona Friday afternoon after classes, he held you back, bringing you over to your usual spot under the cherry blossom tree. With a shaky hand, he held out your favorite flower. "Y/n I like you" He didn´t beat around the bush. Subconsciously, he held his breath, wating for rejection.

Instead, he hears your soft laugh, the smile he loves so much plastered on your lips. "I like you too Hairo"

Your relationship from then on went smoothly. Hairo was proud to be your boyfriend and he showed you off as often as possible. PDA? Sign him up for that. He had zero shame in being affectionate with you, whether it´d be by pressing kisses to your face or hugging you. He´s very vocal about his affections too. He loves loves lovesss complimenting you and hyping you up. Anything just to see that cute blush of pink on your cheeks.

He´s always sure to call out any homophobia when he´s around, especially if it´s comments directed towards your relationship. He is not scared to voice his opinions or fight back. He´s very protective of you and doesn´t want to see you hurt over homophobes.

He´s a golden retriever!! You have him wrapped around your finger and trust when I say he will do anything for you. He´s always like a puppy chasing behind his owner, looking up at them with puppy eyes waiting for their approval. He´s a lovesick puppy and isn´t ashamed to admit it! Your word is the law, whatever you say he agrees. So arguments are not common. If his boyfriend tells him to shut up, he will do just that.

All in all, he´s a very loving boyfie and deserves all the hype in the world <3

[imzsuzsis-blog]

————————-

previous day

"Lando?"

I heard my name from several places, but I wasn't excited, but neither was the party that the local hotel gave, so I decided to look for my brother, he must be in the crowd somewhere watching the game, man.

"Oliver?"

I asked them, but they just shrugged their shoulders. "You didn't see him either?"

,,No. Are you depressed?”

Oh my... I'm not.”

"But Loki told me that you are."

I tilted my neck back, bit my lip and looked at my cell phone.

"It's good and manageable. Fuck you bastards!!!!"

Burying my face in my hands, I burst into tears again. Yes, I felt like a victim and guilty at the same time for nothing. I left there quickly, don't notice that I'm crying over nothing because this is the big nothing.

"Lando?"

I feel the two of them pull me close and hug me.

"It's okay, honey."

,,I was told again... No problem Ria, Max??? Shut up!!!!"

"Seriously, you can't solve your pregnancy problems? It's good that you have such a nice couple."

"To hell with it, I'm not breaking up with him after this!!!! no one has anything to do with how I fight outside of the cameras!!!! He was a dick!!!”

I pushed him away. My boyfriend is the best in the world and I leaned against the wall nervously. It's not just my stomach that's irritated anymore, it's damn hard, thank God the pains just stopped from one moment to the next. Now fuck my leg, it's like it's grown a size, it was forty and now it's forty-one.

,,My girlfriend sometimes too..."

,,Really shut up Max or you will never come over to my place!!!! I swear on my life..”

I couldn't spit and swallow. I've never seen so many hormones in one place, as he has, and no feeling, except as a joke.

“Lets talk about it."

,,No!!! I hate Max Fewtrell.”

"Lando, did you seriously say that?"

“What?"

"How you hate me."

"Yes, last little villain"

He cut his nose, which made my blood boil.

"Lando, Max, calm down or you'll both get out of here."

,,He started."

I started pointing at him, and he just slapped me.

"Stop the hysteria, Lando, right now!"

"Not the bitch, Oscar doesn't listen to the fuck! Stinky vagina lollipop!”

“Vagina lollipop? You last little dick lollipop!!!”

"You're a homophobe!!! drunk Oscar!!!",,Hey, hey!!!! The teammate isn't drunk... Pietra, did I see them smearing?"

"Yes... Oscar's girlfriend... I also think you should separate the two good birds."

,,No!!! One, he has Stockholm syndrome or what the hell and they're still in love, two, these are just horomons and it will end..."

"Let's do it or tomorrow there will be no race out in the pits, not even sex!"

"It's good, Mrs. Brazil."

They knocked on my back, I turned around... It shouldn't have been my girlfriend, she was posing again with a bag the size of a small purse. She puckered my lips again.

After which I could only hold and lick the whole thing.

"Okay, okay, I'm still in love with Lando!!! Fuck me I failed!!! To hell with it.”

"This is no explanation for your tongues being in each other's mouths!!!! Even in the deepest part!!! I will break up with you if you cannot explain this once and for all, or you will be given a grace period."

“But you too…”

“Loki… But already…”

I looked in front of me and felt I was going to freak out again, so I left the party area instead.

"But if he has already told you what happened, why are you doing it? Huh? You are a dick in front of him!!!! Back off Loki!!!”

"Whenever you are together, the sexual tension between you is high, in fact I think it is too high!!!! Someone is lying to Piastri. Who too? Married?"

I grabbed Loki by his sweater and pulled him close to me and started yanking him in anger, then threw him away.

"Leave us alone!!!! It's our little shitty affair with Lando, you faggot!!!”

“Lando, Lando... Are you booing again?”

"Yes George."

"They said that at a party Oscar and your boyfriend got into a fight because of you."

He turned around and his face was pure black, I think he put on make-up again to look good at the party and to please Loki.

"Shit date?" I feel that until I met Carmen, there was a couple. Come my old pregnant fellow warrior.”

"Loki finds out that we are messing with Oscar. Yes, it would have been a date. I just fucked.”

He turned around and continued to burp. Maybe didn't want me to see his face. Lando is very vain in this one.

"Let me see your beautiful face."

,,No!!!! My makeup is completely gone, leave it at that!!!!"

He wiped his eyes and started walking to his car. Slowly and every half minute, he howled sadly. So much so that I think the neighborhood also heard him, he was completely out of his mind.

"It's not good... I also heard the mischief that Oscar did."

"He said they were smeared and that Loki saw it too."

"It's not just him, there are many people at the party and now his best friend is looking for him, that it's abnormal what they're doing and he wants..."

"His girlfriend could be the culprit so they're talking about it."

My girlfriend hug me. And he too can only sigh at the sight of Lando.

"Lando?"

"Shut up Max. We know it was your girlfriend's idea to talk about this."

"If Ria is considered my girlfriend and if this is a joint idea, then yes."

We showed him where he was and he was already standing at the railing and moaning in pain.

"Fuck me!!!!!"

We rushed there.

"Lando, Jesus, are you okay?" ….

————————-

Meanwhile

I woke up sweating again, but this time, I dreamed back and my belly was bigger than now.

"Loki, Loki!!!!"

I shook him up, shocked and teary-eyed, shaking.

“What's the problem? My precious treasure.”

"We celebrated my birthday and had a party, and you and Lily found out that I was secretly dating Oscar... But not only you, but everyone, and it ended in a scandal... And the birth started outside the party."

I could only stammer in terror, I kept my mouth shut.

"It's just a dream, weeks, months to go, my little heart."

He leaned over and started kissing and caressing my hair.

“I’m afraid of everthing!!!!!”

"I know everyone is afraid of something, I'm afraid of heights, for example."

He grabbed his chin and looked into his eyes...

"Fuck the alarm clock."

"I know we have to go and we barely slept because of the team party."

I was covering my stomach with the blanket when Jon opened for us.

"Lando, you are a very good boy. And you have a nice checkered stomach. Don't cover it up."

I took it off him and he was shocked.

"Where did you gain so many kilos?"

He couldn't move from there, frozen.

"No, I didn't pick it up. I am pregnant with twins. I'm at 24 weeks and I'm dreading it all."

"The fifth month????"

I could nod with tears in my eyes. And just to cover myself again. And to get out of the brain with help. Well, I got minus points from my coach and a lot.

[phantom-ellie]

The Art of (Smashing) Crockery Chapter 7: Welly Boots

Summary:  Mother Bonnet has news, and Stede must process it.

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

It’s junk day at Ed’s rage room, which means showing up at junk yards with a truck looking for things that could stand to have a lot more damage done to them. Procurement for the business can be surprisingly complicated. Junk is everywhere, but finding items Ed can legally take and use is harder. Ed is in his office, lazily browsing Craigslist and other social media sites for old fridges and items that people are willing to get rid of for free, if Fang and Ivan will go out with the truck and get them.

Ed’s end of it is boring as fuck. Luckily Ed has a new friend, and his new favorite hobby is blowing off work to text said friend.

Ed: taking the kids trick or treating this year?

Stede: No, the office throws a Halloween party every year and I’m obligated to go. It’s terrible.

Ed: just blow it off then man, never been to a fancy office party but it doesn’t sound very fun?

It would probably be fun with Stede.

Stede: Believe me, and I don’t mean this as a brag, but my absence will be noticed.

Stede: If I don’t show up, I’ll be in deep shit. They’re already going to be angry that I’m not taking my family with me.

Ed: they can control that kind of thing?

That's fucked up?

Stede: They can when your dad owns the company.

Ed: look at you, rich man. when you inherit you’ll throw a few ragers, right?

Stede: When I inherit I will set the building on fire with me inside it.

Jesus Christ.

Ed: harsh mate. you dont have any friends there with you?

Stede: Nope. It’s the definition of a hostile work environment. Just have to get through it. I’m not putting my wife and kids through it anymore, it’s awful for them.

Something tells Ed that it's a bad idea. There's no way he'll say yes, and even if he did it would be a disaster... but Ed keeps picturing Stede standing in a corner next to some shitty carpeted office walls, sipping a drink and avoiding everyone, and his heart clenches a bit.

Ed: well you know

Ed: if you need a friend there, or have a plus one

Ed: i could go, as emotional support

There is a pause of about thirty seconds where Ed spirals a bit. You scared him away, he isn’t going to want someone like you with his rich coworkers. But then Ed’s phone rings.

“What, you don’t want to text?”

“Ed, it’s nice of you to offer, and I would do anything to have an ally there, but there are some things you should know.”

What, everyone at the office are secretly lizard people? Ed wouldn't be too surprised.

“Fire away.”

“Remember that conversation we had last time I was there? About my last name?”

“Yeah, it’s the same as those assholes at- Oh, I see where this is going, you’re one of them.” He's a Bonnet Bonnet. Of course.

“Yes, I am. My father owns BG&E.”

“Your dad’s a fuckin’ murderer, you know that, right?”

“Believe me, I am aware. He’s a monster, you don’t know the half of it.” Stede sounds worn out. Ed tries to imagine what kind of thing Stede's dad would have to do to make him seem worse, before he remembers that he understands a little too well. “Anyway, you need to know that most of the people at the top of the corporate structure here are not good people. I’ve known a lot of them my entire life. I don’t want to subject you to that kind of thing without a warning. Racists, homophobes, you name it, they are there and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“That doesn’t sound too fun. I guess I’ll have to think about it.”

“Hold on, Ed, I’m getting another call, let me see what they want.” Stede leaves the call, and Ed decides that now is the time to think.

Honestly, his offer to go to the party was supposed to be a joke. I mean, he intended it to be taken as a joke, because in actuality it would be interesting to experience something outside of Ed’s business with Stede, to see the environment that sends him to Ed’s neck of the woods once or twice a week. But Ed is gay and indigenous. He could probably pass for being straight, but not white. And being at a party full of people he doesn't know where both of those things are a problem? He's attracted to Stede, but he isn't dating Stede. Every ounce of reason clattering around in his brain tells him it isn't worth it.

Stede interrupts his thoughts by returning to the call.

“I’m sorry Ed, I got a really weird phone call and I have to go meet up with someone, I’ll text you later!”

“See ya-”

Stede hangs up. Ed wonders what a “weird phone call” entails and whether his friend is going to end up in a dumpster somewhere. The quickness with which Stede hung up the phone causes him to wonder if Stede even wants him to go at all, or was just being polite.

---

“Mother?”

Sarah Bonnet places her hand on the bench, indicating that Stede should sit. He does. The bay spreads out before them. A nice view, but Stede has seen the bay many times. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen his mother outside of her home, unaccompanied by his father. Now she sits ramrod straight, a scarf on her head and sunglasses guarding her eyes, technically in public but still very much hidden, like she's always been.

“I’ve always wondered, you know.” She says. “Who would win.”

If people thought that Stede was weird, and many, many people did, he told them he got it from his mother. Who opens a conversation like that?

“Win what?” Stede can feel the tenseness between them, an awkwardness that has always been there. Stede knows it was his fault. He has never fit in with these people, this family. He always feels ten steps behind them.

“Imagine being a young girl, barely allowed an education or consideration, married to a man who should solve everything. Who should be everything. Imagine discovering the truth, that your future and identity are a sham. That love doesn’t exist. That you must hold a baby in your arms after hours of delivery and know that you must never love it, because it will have to suffer, and you can’t bear to see something you love hurt.”

Of fucking course.. “If he’s got you complaining about Mary to me, I’m not interested. Tell someone who cares.” Mary is strong. Mary has love. Mary loves their kids, and their kids are fine. Stede is so fucking sick of the comments about her.

“I was talking about myself.”

Stede pauses. He doesn’t know his mother. He’s never known her, despite the fact that she has always been around, haunting their lives like a specter. In public, she hangs onto her husband’s arm, turns on the charm in certain important company, but in private life is mute as a stone. Stede spent his teens and twenties angry about that, angry that his mother could fake charm and happiness for strangers and people who talked behind her back, but couldn't be bothered to even pretend to love her son. Of course, she's expected to do the former. No one has ever cared if she did the latter. No one ever asked Stede if his mother loved him. The fact that your mother loves you is taken as a given. It's taken for granted. It's assumed.

Stede could count the number of conversations he’d had with Sarah Bonnet on one hand.

“When I held you in my arms for the first time, I knew two things. The first: that I would never hold you again, because I had the first taste of what that love felt like and I couldn’t do it. I knew your father. I knew the families who raised us. I knew they would crush you. So I hardened my heart.”

Stede feels a pang somewhere deep, but years of numbing and acceptance keep it from growing. It would have been nice to have a mother to hold him. It would have helped a lot to have felt loved by one. But not this one, the one he is stuck with. She repels him. He can't look at her most of the time, doesn't want to touch her. The emotional shield he built as a child has become physical.

“The second was that I would never have another child, because harming one was enough.”

“Jesus Christ...” Stede glowers at the ocean. He should have never been born. He should have been an abortion. His mother would have been so much happier that way. But she had to make an heir, so she did. She popped him out and left him to his own devices. And, of course, he forgave her for that... at least he tells himself he's forgiven her. He tells himself she can't help it. It's a kind of neurodivergence, or maybe she had post-partum depression, or something in her brain that makes her incapable. But no, here she sits, telling him that it was a choice. His pain was her choice. He's jealous of the younger sibling he never had for not having to feel it.

Stede remembers his wedding to Mary. The way his mother smiled weakly at guests before touching Stede’s arm with a grimace.

“Love is a choice, remember that.” She had told him that. Love is a choice. And he had used that as a guide, a sort of lighthouse for his marriage, that loving Mary was a choice he could make every day, through action if not through feeling. He had believed that if he chose to show her love ever day, those feelings would develop, because love was a choice.

And yet, even so, it hadn't occurred to him that love could be easily revoked or neglected, that you could choose instead not to love. Who would choose that? Stede would have all of the love in the world, if it were up to him.

Sarah sits up straighter. "I believed that I was doing you a favor, Stede. I did."

“A favor? How could you believe that? Do you know what it's... you probably do, you probably know exactly what it's like, but you did it to me anyway. I’d tell you I hate you, but I’m just… fucking disappointed. In everyone. And everything.” Stede fixates his eyes at his wedding ring as he turns it back and forth.

“Not raising you with love is my greatest regret.” She is still faced towards the bay. “I always thought that if I married, it would be for love. When that didn’t happen, I held out that hope for you. My hopes were dashed on both counts.”

“Then it looks like we’re both disappointments to each other.”

“I called you because I'm dying, Stede.”

Stede looks at her sideways. “Dying?”

“Liver cancer. It’s terminal.”

Stede turns back to the bay. Absorbing this with two senses is too much. He has to reduce it to one.

“How long do you have?”

“A couple of months, now.”

Stede shakes his head. “And you’ve called me here for some kind of deathbed confession? So we can lie to ourselves for a few months before you’re… flushed down to hell and I’m left here even worse than before?”

Sarah huffs and adjusts herself on the bench. “If it were that, I wouldn’t bother. I’ve come to settle the score.”

“Look, believe it or not, I have a family that I haven’t completely fucked over yet, and I’d like to get back to them instead of… whatever is happening here.”

Stede knows that he isn't a good husband, or a good father. But he tries. He loves Alma and Louis, he wants them to know he loves them. He wants Mary to feel that he loves her. So why is he sitting on a bench with this soulless hag when he could be with the ones who are important to him?

“You’ll want to hear the rest.” Sarah puts her hand on Stede’s arm, which somehow exacts more control over Stede’s willpower than any amount of yelling from his father ever had. “Your father has tried very, very hard to make you into a man like him. I watched your strength of wills fight each other for over forty years. Sometimes they went one way, sometimes another. But I know who won.”

“Dad won.” Stede looks down at his hands. Edward Bonnet has won or stolen everything he ever wanted.

“No,” Sarah looks down at her own hands now. “It's worse. I did.”

Stede crosses his arms. “Well congratu-fucking-lations. We’ll throw a party.”

What does any of this have to do with him?

“You retreat into your shell more and more. You hide from your family. You don’t make friends. You jump at every shadow, and I can see how much of yourself you keep locked up.” A tear runs down from under her sunglasses. “I was terrified you would end up like Edward, but you are like me. You are my son.”

“I don’t know any other way to be. I could have learned to be myself, or could have been there for my family. I had to choose. Love is a choice I make every day.”

“No, it isn’t. It isn’t a choice. It’s been fifteen years, Stede. If you don’t love Mary now, you never will.” That bitch, that fucking hypocrite.

“You don’t know anything about me, Mary, or my family.”

“I know you very well. Maybe it is too late for you, Stede. But I don’t think so. If you don’t know how to love, it is because we never taught you. But who is going to teach Alma and Louis? Where will they be in forty years if you don’t show them?”

Stede feels that statement like a punch to the gut. He is miserable every day. That is his love, that is how they will know it. Because Stede drowns every day so they can have a good life. But that... isn't healthy, is it? Stede has no clue how to move forward. He's supposed to build a shelter for his loved ones, but he has never been handed the tools.

“I’m leaving it all to you. It’s my wealth, not his.”

Stede sputters, “M-mom, that’s not-”

“He can keep his company, but you are the only chance my family line has to be free, to love and be loved. You can leave your job, live your life, let your children live theirs. You can be the first one of us to be happy. That is all I can give you.”

Stede shakes his head. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

It doesn't buy love, either. She should know that by now.

“No, it doesn't. But it does buy freedom.”

---

The seventh time it happens, Ed looks up and begins with a smile and a wave before Stede interrupts it.

“I’ll pay you two-hundred dollars if you let me cry in your office for forty minutes.”

Ed rolls his eyes. “You money-solves-everything types.” He turns around and opens the office door, beckoning his new friend in, wondering if he should tell Stede to drop the rage room idea and just get a therapist. But then he won't come around here anymore, will he?

Stede tosses two-hundred dollars in cash on the counter and walks in. Ed grabs the money and follows him, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to pay me for this, mate, you’re my friend.” This will pay for a therapy session, you nut.

Stede nods, already seated at a table with his face buried in his arms. Ed sighs and sits down next to him.

“Want to talk about it?”

Stede sits up and rubs his eyes.

“My mother is dying.”

Ed whistles. “Shit, man. I’m so sorry. I know how that feels.”

Stede shakes his head. “If you loved your mother, then you definitely don't know how this feels. I don’t know why I’m so upset about it. She’s… awful. She told me she never loved me. And I already knew it, I've always known it, but to hear it confirmed…”

Telling your kid you never loved him on your deathbed? Ed would think that's crazy... but if his own dad had been able to speak while dying, he would have said the same thing, with harsher words. “She sounds like a real piece of work.”

Stede sighs. “I don’t know, I don’t know anything about her. She said that I am just like her. But she’s wrong. I love my family, my kids…”

“That’s good, mate. That’s all they need. That’s more than a lot of us get.”

“It’s never been enough.” He rubs his eyes and looks at the ceiling. “She said she’s giving me everything, all the family money. It’s mostly hers. She wants me to… I don’t know… quit my job and run away? Abandon everything I’ve built here and go fuck off and be happy somewhere else. As if it was that easy.”

“No offense, but that’s a first world problem right there.”

Stede laughs in response. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just a lot. I don’t want her money. I don’t want it to do to me what it’s done to everyone else in my family. And I’m worried it already has.”

Ed thinks for a minute. “What I’m hearing is, as soon as your mom carks it you won’t have a reason to work with your evil dad in his lair of secrets and lies. It sounds like she's giving you an escape.”

“I guess… I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

“And if that’s the case, it sounds like you don’t need to spend all your time at shitty corporate events to stay in their good graces.” Cheer up, Stede. Smile that cute smile.

“I…” Stede shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what else I would do. I’m not good at anything else, I don’t even have a degree.”

“Nothing wrong with not having a degree, man. A lot of us manage.”

“Yeah, but you… you think of awesome things like this.” Stede waves his hand around Ed’s dirty, dumpy office. “A rage room. I wouldn’t have thought of that in a million years.”

“It’s honestly kind of boring. A lot of waiting around and hauling junk.”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you still going to that party?”

Stede nods. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to make anyone at the company suspicious. I should at least show up for a bit and do some groveling. It might be bearable now, though. Maybe.”

Ed chuckles and puts his feet up on his desk. “It might be even more bearable if you bring a friend.”

---

Post from blog Hear Something Weird:

Hi all! Do you have children? Hold them tight and tell them you love them now. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

That should go for all loved ones, if you’re lucky enough to love and be loved. Today’s song is Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil. They are a modern folk band. You can tell it’s modern because they use the word “fuck” in many of their songs. The more you know…

Chapter 8

[kai-strophics]

I think he deserves to slut it up in here after he divorces Odalia's ass 😌🤞🏽

[lady-of-snails]

BAKUDEKU PRIDE WEEK DAY 1: LITTLE VICTORIES ❤

“Deku?”

Izuku jolted slightly at the sudden voice, having not heard Kacchan approach despite his combat boot-clad footsteps being anything but quiet. He titled his head up and back to smile at his...boyfriend? Best friend that he kissed sometimes? He wasn’t sure, since his and Kacchan’s relationship had changed so much over the years and never quite fit into a category. He was more than fine with it, though. He was happy. 

“Hi, Kacchan!” he chirped, setting his phone off to the side quickly and trying to turn his mind away from previous thoughts. Kacchan frowned down at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“The hell were you looking at?”

“Nothing,” he lied, reaching up to grab Kacchan’s arm and pull him down into the grass. Kacchan complied, letting Izuku sling the arm he’d grabbed over his shoulder and pull him in close. Kacchan continued inspecting him, definitely not believing him. “Really, Kacchan, it was nothing.” 

Kacchan huffed, then dug his fingers into Izuku’s hair and shook his head around a bit. “Then don’t be looking so fuckin’ bummed.” He proceeded to pull Izuku into a headlock against his chest, making him laugh. “I don’t wanna have to twist your arm off for you to tell me about shit, remember?” 

“Kacchan! Let go!” Izuku laughed, reaching up to slap a hand over his friend’s face, pushing him back and starting a short wrestling match that ended with Kacchan pinning him on his back.

“You gonna talk now?” he asked as Izuku stayed enamored with his handsome red eyes. 

“Hm,” Izuku hummed, blinking up at Kacchan innocently, “Maybe if you give me a kiss?”

Kacchan raised his eyebrow in a way that made Izuku’s heart stutter, leaning down slowly...then stopping just before pressing his lips into Izuku’s. “Talk first.” 

“Hey!” Izuku gasped in betrayal as Kacchan rolled off him with a downright evil cackle. “That was mean,” he pouted, sitting up.

Kacchan snorted a laugh and smirked. “That was negotiating.” 

“More like bribery!” Izuku protested. 

“Do you want a kiss or not?” 

“Fine,” Izuku huffed, grabbing his phone again and opening it to the webpage it had been on before. “I was...well, remember when we went to Mina’s house last week?” Kacchan nodded. “She had that...she had the pansexual flag on her wall, and I just thought...” Izuku sighed. “I don’t know.” 

“What, you want a pride flag?” Kacchan asked. Izuku hated the pang of anxiety that jolted through his chest even though he and Kacchan had been out to each other for years, and they were literally almost kissing just a second ago, but he can’t help it.

“I don’t know?” he answered truthfully, looking down at the online shop full of pride merch he’d been scrolling through, “I mean, a whole flag feels like...a lot. But maybe I want that?” Izuku ran a hand through his hair and huffed again. “This is a dumb thing to worried about, isn’t it? I should be loud and proud about this or something.” 

“Oi,” Kacchan interrupted, reaching out to grab Izuku by the chin, “Shut up, dumbass, this ain’t stupid. You should do whatever the hell you want to.” He scooted himself across the grass so he was sitting next to Izuku, looking over at his phone screen. “If you want a fuckin’ bi pride pin or some shit you should get one.” 

“Isn’t it...isn’t a little weird to wear a flag pin around?” Izuku asked quietly, frowning. Kacchan smacked him upside the head. “Ack! Kacchan!” 

“I dare you to go say that Shitty Hair,” Kacchan said as Izuku rubbed the back of his neck. Izuku blinked at him dumbly, remembering Kirishima’s collection of anything and everything with the trans flag on it. 

“That’s...he’s different,” he excused, sounding stupid even to himself. Kacchan just glared at him. “Right,” Izuku sighed, “excuses.” He dropped his gaze to the ground, only for Kacchan to huff, grab his chin, and force him to look back up. 

“Listen, Deku, you don’t owe shit to anyone but yourself, got it?” he said, red eyes earnest and stern in a way that always rendered Izuku incapable of looking away. “You want to wear a fucking bi flag dress, then you fucking do it, and you use your freakishly strong thighs to crush anyone you gives you shit for it.” Kacchan smirked as Izuku’s face heated. “Or maybe punch them, homophobes don’t deserve to die that happy.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku shrieked, face painting beet red as Kacchan snickered. “You can’t just say that!”

“Sure I can,” Kacchan grinned, releasing his chin as Izuku buried his face in his hands. “I’ve got plenty of things I could say, like-”

“ANYWAYS,” Izuku cut him off quickly, “your point was?” 

“Coward,” Kacchan smirked. “My point was,” he continued, wrapping his arms around Izuku and practically pulling the other boy into his lap, smiling up at him with a rare softness, “that you deserve to do what you want, not what you think you should want or what other people tell you want.” He paused for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “So, Deku, what do you want?” 

Izuku thought about that for a second, resting his hands on Kacchan’s broad shoulders, then broke into a mischievous smirk. “I want...,” he hummed, leaning forward until his arms were wrapped around Kacchan’s neck, “one of those little heart pins, a little flag for my desk, and...,” he trailed off, not missing the flush of Kacchan’s cheeks as he brought their faces a hair apart, leaning in until Kacchan’s eyes started to close and then - ”that’s it.” - shoving Kacchan back into the grass with a laugh of revenge and scrambling off him. 

“You ass!” 

--

The next morning at school, Izuku opened his locker to find a small bisexual pride flag taped to the back, along with a note in Kacchan’s handwriting.

little things can be big things, too, nerd, forgot to tell you that. now go punch a homophobe or something and save the thigh crushing for people that deserve it (me). love you. 

ps your locker is a fucking disaster

[peanut-in-the-goal]

could u write something like remus is out running errands or something and he gets recognized by an nhl fan who’s homophobic and shitty and he goes home and sirius comforts him and it’s cute and fluffy

I KIND OF WENT ON A RANT IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS IM SO SORRY

ALSO I LOST SPEAKING PRIVILEGES WITH @kielemarie because of this. IM SORRY MARIE PLEASE ANSWER MY ASKS

@candy--floss--kid you asked to be tagged when i finished so here ya go

@lumosinlove thank you for this fandom that is sweater weather

also here’s the last thing I wrote because I'm proud of it please I thrive on validation

---

Remus was walking down one of the aisles in the store, looking for a baking mix. He figured that he’d finally take up the challenge of teaching Sirius how to bake. 

He found a simple recipe. Yellow cupcake mix, how could he mess it up? Remus thought to himself. He placed it in the cart before he felt someone forcefully slam into his shoulder. 

He stumbled, his hand immediately going to his scar from Grayback. He looked up slowly, dreading who he might see. 

His eyes locked with the dark green ones in front of him. The tall man’s eyes matched the Slytherin Jersey he wore. Riddle was in bold letters on the back. Which was bad, but not the worst thing that could have happened.

He allowed himself to breathe, it’s not Fenrir, he let the relief of it wash over him. 

“Sorry,” Remus said. He knew it wasn’t his fault but didn’t want to start any drama or conflict when there was no need for it. Especially with a Snakes fan,

He tried to just walk away. He had everything he needed for just a lazy day at home, but the man stepped in front of him. 

Remus looked up confused. Leo has told him about Karen’s doing this sort of stuff. Something that Gen Z came up with or whatever, but he wasn’t sure if he entirely grasped the concept. Suddenly the man started laughing. A deep menacing, laugh that had no humor behind it. 

His eyes were hard as he stared at Remus. 

“It’s not right you know.” He said. His voice was deep and loud, everyone else in the aisle turning to look. “You’re just a bunch of sinners.”

Remus realized what he was referring to in a heartbeat. He was taken aback at first, he knew people felt this way but he had yet to have anyone come and say it to his face so plainly.

He took a step back moving the cart to go around the man, “Excuse me,” he gritted out. He started pushing the cart before a hand reached out and grabbed it.

Remus raked a hand through his hair, sighing he looked up at the man. The green-eyed man was smirking at him, holding onto the front of the cart. The letters stood out in the harsh lighting of the store, glimmering every time he moved.

ALWAYS, PURE, HOCKEY.

The words were printed underneath the symbol, the green snake. It made him sick, he felt bad for all the people who were drafted to that team, stuck without a chance of escaping on their own.

The queasiness in his stomach turned into anger. He used that.

“Was there something you wanted?” Remus asked, generally annoyed now. 

“I want you to know that it’s not fucking right.” The man stepped closer, Remus stayed where he was. 

“Noted, now if you don’t mind I think I’m going to go home to my boyfriend.”

One of the people next to him snorted and tried to hide their laughter at the affronted look on the green-eyed man's face. 

“How can you even look at yourself in the mirror?” The man sniped. 

“Easily, knowing that a homophobic git who can’t keep their nose in their own business isn’t looking back.”

More people laughed, Remus smirked. The man seemed to be getting angrier and angrier, which was just fine. 

“You’re broken.” The man pursed his lips.

“How original.”

Remus pushes the cart again, managing to make the man dislodge his fingers. He started towards the checkout, wanting to get out of there as soon as he could. 

It wasn’t his first time he heard these things. That was all he heard when he was in the media and the pictures had just come out. But Sirius had suffered through most of the face to face stuff, while Remus saw all of it online.

It didn’t make the impact of the words any easier.

It disgusted him that people still thought this way, that they didn’t like that he was able to find love with someone that wasn’t accepted. So what, oh no, they have the same genitals, obviously, it isn’t right. Fuck them for thinking that, honestly. 

It’s sad that they’re so limited to that type of mindset. Where only one thing is right and everything else is wrong in their eyes.

He huffed, walking down the aisle with his head held high. 

Stand your ground, don’t let him win. You got this.

The man followed him, yelling slurs from where he was trailing behind him. 

Don’t let him see, it’s okay. Just a little longer than you can go home to Sirius and everything will be alright.

He finally makes it to the front of the store, but of course, there’s a line. He stands waiting for self check out, it’s the shortest.

“It’s disgusting.”

“You’re disgusting.” Remus didn’t even raise his head to look at the idiot.

Just ignore it, don’t give him the time of day. Keep your head up.

“How am I disgusting?”

“You’re limiting people to only live by your standards and your viewpoints on what’s normal rather than letting them be happy and live how they want. It’s gross really, that you’re so closed-minded about these things for fucks sake.“

“I’m saying what’s right!” The man spluttered.

“How is it right? How is any of that right?” Remus snapped his head up to look at him, his eyes were hard. “You’re telling me that I’m not allowed to live my life or be happy because it doesn’t see fit to you?” He shook his head in outrage.

The man opened his mouth to speak but Reus didn’t let him.

“Ever hear of John Locke. Our three natural rights that we’re all born with? One of them being the Pursuit of Happiness. I’m not hurting you am I? Me happening to like other men does not affect you, it affects me. It makes me happy and you’re really going to come out here and fucking tell me that I’m not allowed to be happy?”

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

The man was at a loss for words, scrambling to grab onto anything to say but he couldn’t.

“It’s still not right.” He said gruffly.

“Yeah, you said that already.”

The man glared at him before huffing and walking away. Remus sighed in relief. 

He walked up to the check out that had just opened, swiping his items before getting a bag and rushing out of the store. 

Some people smiled at him in encouragement, but he was so drained and just wanted to be home at the moment.

He threw the bag in the passenger seat, climbing into the car to drive. He sat there for a minute.

In for four, hold for six, out for eight. Repeat. It’s okay.

He shuffled his playlist, smiling softly and humming along to the tune of Free Fallin by Tom Petty. He was definitely free falling when he fell in love with Sirius.

The drive home was short, luckily they lived close by.

He pulled up into the driveway and quickly scrambled out of the car. His chest felt tight and there was a lump forming in his throat. He jiggled the key in the lock, difficult because of how shaky his hands were.

Finally, he heard a soft click and stepped inside.

“Baby?” Remus called through the house, his voice cracked slightly. He could hear the dull noise of the TV in the other room, then some shuffling, before Sirius’ goofy grin popped around the corner. Slowly, it morphed to one of concern.

“Re?” Sirius took in his red face, and trembling lips, before pulling him into a hug. Remus sagged against him, letting Sirius support his weight and dropping his head against his shoulder.

“Vas tu bien, mon Loup?” Remus nodded his head slowly against Sirius’ neck because though he might not actually be okay, he felt safe in Sirius’ arms. He held on tighter when Sirius went to let go.

“Mon loup? What’s wrong?” Sirius asked. He pulled back just enough to be able to look at his face. 

Remus stuttered for a moment.”There uh…” Sirius rubbed his side soothingly. “There was this idiot at the store, h-he said it wasn’t right?” His voice came out as a question. He bit his lip hard against the tears welling up.

God, why did he feel like crying? It’s not like he hasn’t heard all of this before because he has. But having someone saying it to his face like that in the middle of a store where he’d never had problems before was like a punch in the gut. Was this how it was going to be from now on?

Was he going to get stopped on the streets or in the stores and restaurants just because he was gay? Because he chose love over being what everyone else wanted him to be?

As long as he got Sirius it would be worth it in the end. It had to be.

“Wasn’t right?” Sirius furrowed his brow. “Oh.” The realization dawned on his face.

“No, no, Remus, non.  He’s wrong, He—”

“I know.” Remus looked at him. “I know. Just… Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Are people always going to look at us like we’re different j-just because we love each other?”

Sirius made a sad almost whine like noise. “I’m sorry Re…”

Remus sighed, dropping his forehead to rest against Sirius’s shoulder again. “At least I have you.” His words were muffled but Sirius still understood.

He smiled softly at his boyfriend. “I could say the same thing. Come on.”

Sirius led Remus back to their living room, the TV playing some cooking show that started when Sirius’ had ended. Sirius sat on the couch, pulling Remus to lay down with him.

“Has it always been this bad for you?” Remus murmured, his eyes were already shut. He cuddled further into Sirius.

“I guess. I don’t know, I stopped listening to that stuff, they’re all wrong anyway.” He grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the couch and draped it over them both.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of Remus’ hairs.

“I love you too,” but Remus was already softly snoring away.

---

Remus’s eyes fluttered open sometime later. He was curled on the couch with Sirius. It was dark outside, the stars shining through the leaves of the tree that stood outside their window.

He shifted to rub at his eyes, yawning.

“You’re cute.” 

Remus snorted. “I just woke up.”

“You’re still cute.” Sirius laughed softly, brushing some stray strands of hair from Remus’ face.

Remus yawned again. “What time is it?”

Sirius grabbed his attention phone from where it was laying next to him. “7:30, you’ve been asleep for a while.”

Remus huffed, sitting up all the way. 

“I was going to teach you how to bake a cake,” he pouted. 

“I know how to bake a cake!” Sirius exasperated, “I also stand by my statement of you’re cute.”

Remus huffed out a laugh.  He stood up, “I’m sure you do.”

“I do! Celeste taught me.”

“She taught you or she tried to teach you, there’s a difference.” Remus raised his eyebrow,

“Fine, she tried.” 

“Then I will conquer the impossible.” He said it boldly, standing up at the same time, making them both laugh. 

“I’m not impossible.” 

“Teaching you is,” Remus smirked, tugging Sirius’ hand to make him get off the couch.

He felt so much lighter now. Being around Sirius tended to have that effect on him. He made him forget what he was worried about, and made him feel safe and loved. The man from the store was still in the back of his mind nagging at him but at this moment that didn’t matter. Nothing matters except the two of them. And wasn’t that wonderful?

“I am not impossible to teach,” Sirius whined. Remus laughed, walking into the kitchen.

“Yes, you are baby,” Remus shook his head fondly, looking for the bag from the shop. He didn’t see it. “I think I left the stuff in the car, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll get it!” Sirius grabbed the keys before Remus could, a dopey grin on his face.

“Must everything be a competition?” There was no bite behind his words, watching Sirius fling the door open. The cold air from outside drifted into the heated house, Remus shivered.

The door shut and Sirius was back in front of him, bag in hand.

“Ready to show you that I can learn!”

“Did you lock the door?” Sirius hesitated for a moment. Remus had to bite back a laugh, “I’ll go lock it,” he pressed a kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“Now we’re ready,” He pressed a kiss to Sirius’ cold nose this time.

He took out what he bought, vanilla extract, a boxes of cake mix, sugar, and sprinkles.

“Okay so…” He held one of the boxes, reading the recipe on the back. “Can you preheat the oven to 350 degrees, baby?” He asked. Sirius looked at him before walking over to the oven. “Or, do you want me to do it?” 

“I can do it.” Remus laughed.

“Sorry.” Sirius batted Remus’s hands away. “Okay, what’s next?”

“Uh, we have to make the batter. Can you get the eggs out please?”

“Mhm,” he got the eggs from the refrigerator, placing them gently on the island. 

“Alright wait, we need 3 eggs, ½ a cup of oil, a cup of water, and this.” He held up the mix for emphasis. 

“That’s it?”

“Yep,” he smiled at Sirius. He owed one heck of a lot to that idiot. His idiot.

“Easy,” Sirius dragged out his words and laughed.

“See you say that now, but something has to go wrong I swear.”

Sirius grumbled as he went to crack the eggs into the bowl for the electric mixer. Remus laughed again, going back to reading the instructions, making sure that they were doing it right.

“Oops.” Remus snapped his head up.

“Oops? What do you mean oops?” He leaned over to look at the bowl. Half an eggshell laid on its side in a bowl, on top of the already broken up egg.

“Told you something would go wrong,” Remus laughed, carefully picking it out to throw away.

They worked on making the batter, Remus telling Sirius what to do. Finally, everything was in the bowl and they just had to mix it.

“Okay, you can turn on the — hey wait!” 

Sirius pulled the little switch on the side of the mixer. All the way.

 “No! Sius don’t.” But it was too late, the powder from the cake mix flew everywhere. Finally Remus was able to hit the switch back, turning it off.

They looked around, but the mix had covered the counter tops and ground in a sheet of what looked like dust. 

A startled laugh came from him, Sirius following right after. Their shoulders shook with mirth.

“Well that was a bust.”

“And we still haven’t even started on the frosting yet.”

[percontaion-points]

Raven King chapter 7

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions.

Chapter 7

He hadn't said anything last night, maybe too tired to demand an explanation for last night's fiasco...

Look, I don't like any of these characters. But I'm also not going to sit here and let David drag Neil through the mud simply because Riko thinks that threatening to murder people is a personality trait.

"Tell me why someone who came here early to get away from his parents and who flinched away from me the first time he thought I was going to strike him goes so far out of his way to offend someone like Riko Moriyama. I would have thought you'd have better survival instincts."

He's not wrong. Considering that Neil keeps wanking off about how he has to keep his head down and survive, he sure is going out of his way to do the exact opposite. Signing to a college sportsball team, going out of his way to be around not only Kevin, but also Riko.

Neil is so fucking stupid, and I can't deal.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Wymack asked, coming to rejoin him at the table. "Your parents must be something else."

Coach David: I'm going to have a team of nothing but children who are troubled. They deserve second chances.

The children: *act out because they've never had a positive influence in their lives, and don't know any better*

Coach David: *surprised pikachu face*

"I didn't know," Neil repeated. "Until Coach told me about the Moriyamas this May I knew nothing about Riko's family. After that I thought maybe that's why we met so long ago. I thought Riko's father and mine were discussing territories and borders. But last night Riko said my father belongs to the Moriyamas. What did he mean by that? Why did he say he bought me?"

"Don't lie to me," Kevin said. "We are in enough trouble as it is."

"My mother didn't tell me why we were running," Neil said. "I never asked her why she finally had enough. I was just glad to get away. We never talked about anything real after that. It was always about the weather or our current language or the local culture—the next time she had anything meaningful to say to me was when she was dying. Even then she didn't talk about my father. Not once did she mention the Moriyamas. If she had, I wouldn't be here right now, would I? So tell me the truth."

I get that Neil was a literal child when all of that happened. But after drilling into Neil's head about needing to be on the run, of needing to keep his head down... AND SHE COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO EXPLAIN TO HIM WHY HE NEEDED TO DO THAT?!

Like Neil isn't smart, but I'm honestly blaming a lot of that about his mother failing to teach him fucking anything.

"You were a gift, another player for the master to train. You had two days to win him over: an initial scrimmage with us to show off your potential and a second scrimmage to prove you could adapt to and implement his instructions and criticisms. If afterward he decided you weren't worth his time you would be executed by your own father."

Neil swallowed hard. "How did I do?"

"Your mother wouldn't risk failure," Kevin said. "You never made it to the second practice. She disappeared with you overnight."

The heat in Neil's stomach could have been nausea or rage, but he didn't know who he was angry at. His mother had hated his fascination with Exy his entire life. She'd told him over and over he'd never touch a racquet again but she never told him why. He couldn't understand why she had never explained the totality of what they were running from.

ONE FIVE MINUTE CONVERSATION, AND THIS ENTIRE SHITTY SITUATION COULD HAVE BEEN 100% AVOIDED.

COMMUNICATION IS FOR FUCKING SQUARES.

By 'the girls' she meant her stage sisters. Dan, aka Hennessey, had gotten a fake ID back in high school so she could work as a stripper in a nearby city.

Casually mentions child sex workers like it's not a big deal.

"Listen up. There's obsession and there's dysfunction. You can't make Exy your end-all be-all. This won't last forever, okay? You'll shine bright, then you'll retire, and then what? You gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies?"

Somebody had to fucking say it.

Neil thought of his mother's heavy fists on his skin and her fingers knotting in his hair. She'd told him time and time again girls were dangerous.

So his mother beat him until he didn't like girls, but couldn't be bothered to do the same thing about liking exy?

He dragged his attention back to the task at hand and vowed never to listen to Nicky again.

Chapter 7 summary: Neil wakes up on David's couch. He thinks about sneaking out to avoid the confrontation he knows is coming, but decides to get it over with. He tries the old “he started it” route, but David doesn't buy it. When Neil brings up how everybody is of the opinion that Seth was killed, David calls him out on his bullshit. That Seth was a junkie, and Andrew should keep his BS conspiracies to himself.

They go to the stadium, where Neil has his conversation with Kevin. Says that he gambled on Kevin not remembering since Kevin showed no sign of acknowledgment when Kevin went with David to recruit Neil. But he goes on and says that he didn't know about how his father “belonged” to the Moriyamas, and didn't know why he and his mother went on the run. Kevin explains to Neil about how nepotism topples empires, and the head of the Moriyama family wanted for Neil to earn his keep. Wanted Neil to become another little Kevin and Riko. But Neil's mom freaked out over the thought of them murdering a literal child and took off before the guy could decide if Neil would be worth living or not. As I keep saying, it sounds like all of Neil's current shit falls back on his mother's inability to inform him of important stuff.

Kevin tells Neil to run off and continue hiding. To survive. Neil says that he's tired of being on the run constantly. Says that Andrew seems to think that the foxes constant publicity will keep the Moriyama family from murdering him. Kevin says that Neil knows too much, and that even a TV appearance won't stop them. Tells him to go. Neil refuses, and insists he's going to stay. Kevin promises to keep up their nightly practices. They briefly talk about why it is that Andrew is so obsessed with Neil, without moving the plot along.

Some time passes, and Neil tries to bury himself in practice but ignores the news. Then, because this book is hurting for plot, we get a random conversation with Dan about casual sexism and sex work. The book tries and fails to breathe life into the other background characters. There's this really unholy passage about Nicky and Neil talking about Andrew necking on a cheerleader and it's upsetting Andrew. NOBODY FUCKING CARES.

Nicky then starts to talk about how the twin's mother gave both of them up, one ended with his aunt, and the other in foster care. But none of this is new info to the readers, so... move on already. He also mentions that their aunt died, and thinks that Andrew murdered her. Neil believes this. He also off-handedly mentions about how Andrew saved him from being beaten by some homophobic assholes, but got court-ordered drug therapy as thanks.

He then spends a long time talking about Christianity and homosexuality. And it's a heavy topic for sure, but I'm not sure if this is the right book for this. Especially since this is immediately bookended with Nicky telling Neil that playing sports isn't a personality.

[twopoppies]

But give me few examples how harry meeting stringer can be anything good for louis

Look, every assumption I make about what H/L do, is based on the belief that they are a couple. I’ve looked at it from 7000 angles and to ME, the only one that makes the most sense and is the most consistent is that they’re a couple.

So any answer I give you, is going to assume they’re working together. I can’t give you an answer from the viewpoint of someone who thinks Harry has been plotting his power grab since 2013 and is a soulless evil person who stepped on the necks of everyone else because all he loves is fame and money. The fact that people actually believe that nonsense is beyond me.

I have to say, I started writing a long list and then deleted it because it’s exhausting here. The second you have an opinion that some group doesn’t like, dozens of rabid minions descend. I’m just not here to prove things to anyone. You’re perfectly polite, anon, but 99 out of the next 100 anons I get will be just like the last barrage because I’m not agreeing with this theory that Louis has zero power.

I believe Louis and Harry have been playing the long game. They know all the pieces to the puzzle and they are doing their best to navigate this shitty, homophobic industry in a way that they can both have long and successful careers and ultimately so they can publicly be together.

If you don’t believe that, then fine. No amount of “reasons” I list is going to change that. If you really want to talk, come off anon and I’ll be happy to be a lot more specific about what I think about your question.

[bi-robins-club]

jason had just settled onto his couch with a jane austen novel and his favourite peach iced tea when damian crept in through his window. he sighed internally and decided to simply ignore him. he had told damian to use the front door (nevermind the fact that jason rarely used the door) and more importantly? he was freaking comfortable. after a few minutes as jason flipped idly through the book, damian cleared his throat. jason sighed again, outwardly this time and reluctantly dragged his eyes up to his youngest brother. baby bat was shivering slightly from the rain outside and jason simply rasied an eyebrow as he sipped at his tea. scowling, dami stomped over to jasons bathroom to dry off. he rolled his eyes. how dramatic. damian was acting like he sentenced titus and alfred the cat to their deaths instead of how he was actually saving jason from deep cleaning his rain soaked carpet. (he was still going to deep clean the carpet the next time he tidied up but still)

when damian stalked back into the room, looking less like a wet, angry kitten and more like a dry, angry kitten, jason titled his head back and established eye contact.

"so what brings you over to my neck of the woods, demon spawn?"

instead of snapping back like jason expected, damian simply stood there looking extremely uncomfortable. he shuffled his feet, opened his mouth then closed it and sat next to jason on the couch he splurged way too much on.

"i don't know how to tell you this" dami began, hesitant "but i believe harper is experiencing thoughts of suicide"

jason jerked up, almost knocking over his tea (and what a damn waste that would be) before fixing damian with a look. he hadnt noticed anything different in roy lately but he knew more than anyone that depression acted strangely and was hard to pinpoint. his mind raced with thoughts of why roy might be suddenly suicidal, from a sudden relapse to not getting a happy meal toy included in his 3.99 box of clogged arteries. "why do you say that, damian?"

"i have been keeping an eye on his health since he became a close confidant to you and last night he said something worrying that i am still not able to parse the meaning of" jason smiled lightly at that, in damian speak he was basically declaring that he cared for roy- if for nothing else than for how happy he made jason. still he shook it off and asked what roy had said that was worrying dami.

"he was patrolling last night" jason knew that. roy had been picking up his patrols since jason had a nasty leg wound. it was the reason he wasn't out tonight. "and he was on the phone with an unknown person, though i am inclined to believe it was either Starfire or Canary" okay, still not surprising "and then he said that the only place he could die happy was between your thighs" oh hello blue screen. yes jasons mind was in the middle of rebooting but could you hurry it along? he almost missed what damian said next. "not only does he wish for death upon himself, he wishes for you to give it to him!"

"damian" jason managed, frantically trying to figure out a way to explain to his baby brother without including his sex life. "uhh its just an expression"

damians face brightened up slightly. "really? he does not wish to smother himself between your thighs?"

"yeah, its like...like just a way to say... mind your business? mmhmm" he struggled to get out, pulling an explanation out of his ass.

"you have told father to mind his business a thousand times but i dont recal you ever using that one. is it new?"

oh god. jason would rather die again than continue this conversation.

"uhh its only used if you're close to someone" jason didnt know what he didnt wrong but dami's eyes widened in clear worry. "i thought you and father were reconnecting? has something happened? are you fighting again?"

well shit. jason had not thought this one through. fuck roy and fuck his mile wide kink that centered around jasons thighs. he was going to kill him. and he wouldnt even use his thighs. "oh nonono dami we're fine, just not as close as me and roy" he hedged, pleading to gods he didnt believe in to stop this conversation with whatever means necessary. strike him dead if need be but *please*. damians eyes narrowed "and exactly how close are you with harper, jason?" jason stared in disbelief. how had his nice relaxing evening turned into such a shitshow? damian was fine with roy when he and jason were just friends but now that he was (correctly) assuming a relationship, his over protective instincts were kicking in? christ. he remembered how when dick and babs finally started dating (again), damian seemingly lost all respect for her and called her an evil harlot more than once.

thankfully he was saved by answering in the form of the best person jason had ever met aka duke thomas. he announced his presence by awkwardly coughing. jason met his dark eyes and mouthed 'help me' over damians head. duke smiled as if it was getting pulled out of him by torture but nodded.

"hey dames, dick wanted you to join him by the docks when you finished up here" damian scowled "cant you see i am clearly not finished yet"

"hah, well dick was facing up against scarecrow and i think he needed some back up but you know him"

"yes, he wont admit he needs help when he very clearly does" damian sighed "very well, ill go check on dick. you stay and question jason. " and with that damian clambered out the window and after he disappeared from sight, jason threw his head back to stare at his ceiling and groaned. duke laughed at him.

"hey daisy duke?" duke grumbled at the nickname and jason cracked a smile "how did you know i needed back up?" duke winced and ran a hand over his dreads. he made a face and jasons soul was slowly draining out of his body. "oh haha funny story" duke rocked back on his feet and faked laughed "damians com was still connected to the channel" jason froze.

"who was on the channel oh my god" duke smiled thinly and his hand paused on his head. "other than me? everyone." jason buried his head in his hands and let out a high pitched whine. duke consolingly rubbed his shoulder. this is why jason loved him. he hadn't even laughed at jason like tim, dick or steph would or started plotting death like damian started to. he and cass would just offer support. jasons favorite brother and sister right here folks. duke sat down beside him

"listen. i know what it's like to be outed when youre not ready and when i heard damian grilling you about roy, i thought i would help" jason turned and stared at his brother. duke was staring at his hands and avoiding eye contact. "i got caught with a boy when i was 15 in high school. its pretty shitty to be gay and poor in a homophobic neighbourhood but its worse to be gay, poor and black." jason knocked shoulders with him. "if you tell me the name of whatever asshat outed you, I'll shoot him for you." duke let out a waterly laugh. "they kept bullying me for being gay but if they even listened, they would have realised that im pan" he joked "its a completely different thing after all". jason snorted

"that was horrible"

duke winced "yeah, it was wasnt it. im bad at this" it was jasons turn to avoid eye contact now.

"talia once caught me with a league operative. a male operative. i was so paranoid for days until i caught shiva leaving her rooms. i got the courage to tell her i was bi and she just patted my cheek and asked how my training was going."

duke huffed out a laugh. "bruce gives you shit but i for one think your lesbians moms are cool"

jason laughed with him "just wait until you meet Ducra. shes a badass"

"ducra?" he questioned with a weird look. "how many moms do you actually have? i knew about diana and your assassin moms but thats a new name" jason burst into laughter at the expression on dukes face. "its not fair man. steph is the only other one with a mom and you have four! you need to share" jason choked on his laughter and shoved duke.

"first of all, its only *three*. ducra is like my badass abuela"

"dont you already have a badass grandma? have you forgotten about Ma Gunn? she threatened to shoot bruce in the dick last week!"

"yes well excuse you i need strong female role models in my life, fuck you" the two of them continued to joke around for a little while longer before jason caught a flash of black kelvar outside his window and sighed. duke followed his eyes and smiled before patting jasons shoulder and pushing off. "have fun with the one strong male role model in your life. im going to see if cass needs help" both of them knew that cass wouldn't need help but jason accepted the excuse for what it was. "me and steph are still coming over to study tomorrow. college is kicking my ass and i need you to explain this English assignment to me"

jason scoffed "im not writing your essay for you"

"eh worth a try. bye jace" duke gave a two fingered salute and slipped out the window. jason took the brief reprieve to sip his tea and mourned when he discovered the ice had melted and watered down the peach taste. for the third time that night, someone crept into his window. oh well. third times the charm right? jason wasn't going to acknowledge bruce until he said something himself. it was a repeat of damian. jasom read his book as it got increasingly uncomfortable.

"jason."

"bruce" jason drawled, not lifting his eyes from his book. bruce grunted like the neanderthal he was and jason finally huffed out a heaving breath before marking his page and looking up. bruce looked supremely uncomfortable. actually his face looked exceedingly neutral but jason knew how to read bruce and that was the brow furrow of how do i deal with jason without fucking it up? jason was well famailairsed with that one.

"you know i love you" jasons own eyebrows rose. bruce only said 'i love you' like four times a year tops. and he usually never wasted it on jason. bruce deflated at whatever face jason must have made. goddamn it. this was why jason always fought with bruce with his helmet on, he couldnt control his facial expressions for shit. "no you dont know that." bruce smiled thinly and to jasons suprise, quickly crossed the room and knelt, placing his hands on jasons shoulders.

"even if you dont believe it, and its my own fault that you do and i hate that i ever caused you to even doubt my love for you, i swear that i do, jay lad" jason was completely frozen. he had expected bruce to yell at him for letting roy go unchecked on patrol last night and how irresponsible he was yada yada, not this declaration of feelings that he had no clue how to deal with. he couldnt remember the last time bruce called him that. it had to have been when he was still in those scaly green panties and pixie boots. and not the adult verison that jason picked up from a halloween store on a whim just to see roys eyes.

bruce sighed and drew jason into a hug. when bruces shoulder started getting wet, jason was horrified to realise he was crying. "i wanted you to know that i wouldnt love you any less for loving a man. but you have to know that i love you in the first place for that to happen" bruce said self deprecating.

"shut the fuck up" jason said sniffling and gripping his dads back. "i hate you"

bruce laughed softly at him before pressing a kiss to the side of jasons head. "i want you to know that i expect roy-and you- over at dinner on sunday. i need to meet the man that stole my babys heart" he murmured. jason laughed wetly "youve already met roy, you just want to con me into actually coming to family dinner"

bruce smiled "that was before i knew you two were dating. roy needs to know what hes getting into" jason leaned back enough to stare into bruces eyes and weakly punched him in the chest "dont threaten my boyfriend. he refused to look at me for two weeks after t was done with him" bruce sighed longingly "its times like this when i remember what caused me to love talia in the first place."

"bruce!" the aforementioned man laughed and hugged jason tightly before stepping back a few steps. "Sunday dinner. you and roy. 8 pm." on a whim jason reached out and snagged bruces hand. "hey" he started, swallowing "you wanna stay for a while? we could watch a movie or something" bruces eyes softened and he nodded. "let me change out of the suit."

and if roy had crept in after patrol only to see jason napping on his dads chest to a shitty action movie playing in the background and took several pictures, well that bruces fault for not waking up when roy stumbled it. (nevermind the fact that bruce had every single one of those pictures saved on his phone) (nevermind the fact that after roy put his phone away, he was greeted to the sight of batman glaring at him as he twisted a batarang around his fingers. it was sorta ruined by the fact that jasons curls was hiding the lower half of his face but roy was still adequately terrified)

[samanthadalton]

Star crossed lovers (au) part 3

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians @helpconfusedpersonhere (if you wanna be added or taken off just let me know😊)

(i had a huge writer’s block and im getting back into writing more often so this chapter is pretty short but next chapter will definitely be longer) 

word count: 3.3k 

part 1: part 2: 

The make up 

After the never ending nightmare provided by Chloe and her idiotic clique, Bea’s reputation at Belvoire couldn’t possibly be worse. Everywhere she went she was met with stares, or laughter, and some students would even go as far as to catcall her or demand a dance or two. Never so badly did Bea wish she could be invisible but alas it felt as if the world was against her even more and she couldn’t bring herself to find comfort in the person she loves the most, Poppy. After feeling heartbroken from Poppy’s actions, or lack of, Bea had been busying herself over the last couple of days so she wouldn’t have to see the blonde. 

It didn’t help that Poppy was constantly blowing up Bea’s phone almost every second, not knowing why the brunette was ignoring her. It wasn’t until cheer/volleyball practice on Thursday that the blonde managed to steal a moment alone with her girlfriend after waiting for the girls to leave the locker room and then making the excuse she needed to find her speaker for practice and pulling an unsuspecting Bea to the back of the locker room. 

“Poppy what the hell, let go. I have to be on time for practice since I missed practice on Tuesday because of work.” Bea’s tone is slightly agitated as she tries to shake out of Poppy’s ironclad grip but the unwavering blonde just tightens it embedding the shape of her slender fingers on the brunette’s arm. 

“Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me,” her voice is quiet, as she tries to catch Bea’s eyes searching for an answer.  

Bea defeatedly sighs and faces the girl, her head slightly tilted down to look the blonde directly in her eyes, “You know why Pops.” Poppy’s grip slightly loosens up and Bea takes advantage and shakes her arm out of her grasp and sits on the bench in the corner with her head between her hands. “After what happened on Monday, I can barely walk through school without some asshole making a comment or giving me a weird look. I feel so… violated.” Her voice was low but soft like she was tired of it all. 

Poppy wasn’t used to seeing Bea so vulnerable… so broken, usually when something like this happened at school Bea would reassure Poppy that she was okay and that Chloe’s words couldn’t hurt her. Only this time, it wasn’t just words, they publicly humiliated her girlfriend, and Poppy had never felt so powerless, as she watched her girlfriend on the brink of tears, fists balled up, but she couldn’t bring herself to move, to speak, all she could do was watch. Until Veronica broke out of her own faze and moved towards the brunette and tell everyone off. In the back of Poppy’s mind she knew that she should’ve been the one to defend her girlfriend’s honour, that she should’ve been the one by her side, not just this once but all the other times before, but her fears of everyone finding out the truth prohibited her from supporting her girlfriend, that damned fear that everyone would find out they were together which could be social suicide. For her career obviously, not her friends, they could eventually learn to love Bea, right?

Poppy pushes all thoughts from her mind and sits down next to a crestfallen Bea who’s breaths are becoming quicker, hands still wrapped tightly against her head. Poppy reaches over and wraps the girl in a one armed hug hoping the brunette doesn’t pull away, and feels a wave of relief when Bea nestles her head in the crook of the blonde’s neck and begins to regain her breathing. 

“Poppy… why didn’t you say anything?” Bea’s voice was low, slightly muffled as she spoke into the blonde’s neck, if she wasn’t nestled in Poppy’s embrace Poppy would’ve missed the question altogether.

Poppy places her chin above the girl’s head and sighes and as she opens her mouth to answer, she realises that she doesn’t have an answer, or at least one that would satisfy both herself and Bea. Instead she stays silent, though her deafening silence is enough for Bea to know that neither of them had an answer. Bea pulls away from Poppy and pushes herself away from her on the bench leaving some distance between themselves, in more ways than one. 

“I… see..” her voice is strained, as she battles with the tears that threaten her eyes, on the brink of exposing her hurt. 

“So what do we do now? Bea.. I…I miss you so much,” Poppy murmurs, her voice slightly chokes as she apprehensively fiddles her fingers together. 

Bea’s nostrils flare slightly as she grips the bench before using her force to push herself off to face the petite girl, anger flashing across all her features, she involuntarily raises her voice, “You think that this has been easy for me, Pops? It’s literally breaking my heart because I can’t talk to you about this,” her voice cracks slightly but she quickly masks it by clearing her throat and looking away. 

Poppy jumps up from her seat and tries to grab Bea’s wrist to turn her around to face her and Bea pulls out of her grasp and moves towards the front of the locker room, Bea’s tone almost pleading as she looks at Poppy with sorrow in her eyes, the angered tone replaced with a softer one “just..give me some space Poppy, I just can’t really be around you right now.” Poppy tries to intercept and just as she opens her mouth Bea puts up a hand to stop her, “seriously Pops, please. After what you and your friends did I just can’t be around you right now.”

Poppy feels anger flaring up inside of her as she scrunches up her face and runs a hand through her hair, “Me?’ she points to herself, losing control of her voice raising it, ‘What the hell did I do? I didn’t even kno-”

Bea practically screams her whole face turning red as tiny specks of saliva leave her mouth as she shouts, “It’s what you didn’t do! You watched them humiliate me and you didn’t do anything! I thought my girlfriend was supposed to support me but maybe I was wrong.” With that she turns and walks out of the locker room leaving behind a broken hearted Poppy who just falters at the harsh reality of Bea’s words. 

Poppy sits down on the bench, alone, thoughts running wild through her mind. She doesn’t care about the fact that the girls are probably waiting for her at cheer practice, her heart just hurts too much. She sits in silence until the sounds of heavy footsteps interrupt her thoughts, she looks up hoping it’s Bea but feels dejected when she sees a hint of grey-ish ombre hair. 

“Poppy what the hell? We’re all waiting for you to tell us what to do.” Veronica tone impatient and she stands in front of the blonde with a hand on her hip, eyebrows raised. Poppy just hums non committedly, earning a frown from Veronica who in turn, proceeds to grab the girl by her arm to lift her off the bench, pulling Poppy from her reverie. 

“Ow, chill V- what the hell” Poppy rubs at the spot which the ombre-haired girl just grabbed and pushes her slightly back, “Can’t I just take like 5 minutes to myself?” 

Veronica has known Poppy long enough to know that something is on her mind since the blonde has a pretty clear track record for when it comes to showing up to practice on time, she sighs and cups Poppy’s cheeks staring directly into her eyes, “Now are you gonna tell me what’s up or are you gonna waste all of our time pretending you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine V,” she moves towards the entrance of the locker room but is quickly pulled back by Veronica who knits her eyebrows together, features looking downcast. 

“P, I’ve known you long enough to know something’s up, tell me.” 

Poppy bites her lips her gaze drifts to the ground and she lets out an annoyed sigh, “I finally spoke to Bea” 

Veronica perks up a little, “that’s good right?”

Poppy responds with a shake of her head obtaining a look of disapproval from the girl, “what happened when you guys talked?”

“She practically blamed me for what happened on monday, I mean how was I supposed to know that Chloe would do something so cruel? I didn’t think she had the brain cells to even come up with something like that.” 

“What the hell?! It wasn’t your fault, do you want me to talk to Bea?” Veronica’s protectiveness bursts out as she awaits Poppy's answer. 

‘No, I-, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean she’s right.’ Veronica sits down on the bench and pats the space next to her and Poppy obliges and sits down. “Bea was mad because I didn’t do anything, and she has every right to be mad. I mean, am I a shitty girlfriend?” She looks over to Veronica praying that she holds the answer to her question. 

Veronica wraps her arm around Poppy and sighs before speaking, “Do you know why I got involved and stood up for Bea?”

“So my girlfriend could hate my guts because it should’ve been me?” 

Veronica exasperates a little, lightly slapping Poppy’s back, “No idiot, I did it for you.” Poppy grimaces as she waits for Veronica to continue. Seeing that she isn’t going to interrupt Veronica carries on speaking, “I saw your face when you realised what they were doing to Bea, and I know that you were feeling conflicted. I mean I wouldn’t want to be in your place, having a girlfriend that no one can know about because our friends hate her because she’s part of the working class or whatever. Or a homophobic dad who has extremely high expectations and expects you to be the best of the best because he thinks it’s what your mom would’ve wanted.” If Veronica’s known for one thing, it's her bluntness. Her cold hard deliverance of the truth stunned Poppy, who for the first time does not have the words as reality dawns on her. 

“... You’re right,” Poppy eyes frantically move side to side as she reflects on the past and realises that Bea has had to endure a lot of crap from her friends over the past couple of years, and she berates herself for thinking that her girlfriend could handle it on her own. She groans into Veronica’s shoulder, “God I’m such an idiot… I've been expecting Bea to just be okay with all the verbal abuse and I’ve never said anything to Chloe, I just let it all happen.” She jumps to her feet, suddenly feeling resolved, she looks down at Veronica who just blankly stares at Poppy hoping for an answer for her sudden awakening. “I know what I have to do” and with that she runs out of the locker room ignoring Veronica as she calls out to her. 

Poppy moves with determination as she heads over to the hall where volleyball practice takes place and before she opens the door she peeks her head though the window and sees a disheartened Bea running laps as Chloe barks out orders to the rest of her teammates. 

She throws the doors open and charges towards Chloe who notices a furious Poppy moving towards her and breaks out into a smile, “Hey P, aren’t you supposed to be at prac-” Poppy practically slams Chloe into the wall and practice comes to a halt as all the girls, including Bea watch the ordeal unfold. “Owww, what the hell” Chloe tries to move from Poppy’s hold as her back is flat against the wall but the shorter girl filled with anger and adrenaline rams the girl back into the wall. 

“That crap you pulled on Monday wasn’t cool and you’re not gonna bother Bea or speak about her mom again. Otherwise you’re going to regret it.” Poppy’s eyes bore into Chloe’s, her tone threatening but low, only meant for the blue-eyed girl to hear. 

Chloe’s temper flares as she looks over Poppy’s shoulder to see a confused Bea watching the two girls with a frown and in the moment she manages to shove Poppy back and overemphasises her height against the strawberry blonde, keeping her posture straight and her head bent slightly to look down at her, “So what? Because you’re lab partners you guys are all buddy buddy? Who gives a shit about that tramp? What you’re not going to do Poppy is walk into practice and try to embarrass me in front of my team.” Chloe’s voice echoes throughout the hall as she struggles to keep her temper under control. 

Poppy’s somewhat startled by Chloe’s outburst but maintains her stoic expression and leans in to whisper, “I could end your life Chloe, don’t test me.” She looks down at Chloe’s hands to see them shaking as they’re balled up into fists, she knows the girl would never touch a hair on her head but she also doesn’t want to escalate the situation any further in case the fallout is bad for Bea. Well, there’s just one more card for her to play, she sighs and rubs her forehead with one hand as she reaches out and clasps one of Chloe’s fists with her other, “I don’t want you talking about Bea’s mom because at least she has one, no matter how shitty she may be.” 

All the colour drains from Chloe’s face as her body relaxes and she looks more embarrassed than anything else, using her dead mom as bait for no one to find out about her and Bea? She’ll take that opportunity. 

Chloe simply splutters struggling to find the words, so she just wraps her arms around Poppy and mumbles into Poppy’s ear, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how much that would’ve affected you.”

Poppy rolls her eyes slightly as she knows that Chloe’s sincerity is only for her and not Bea but she releases herself from Chloe’s embrace and places a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have barged in here during practice but it was eating me up inside and I just had to say something.” Chloe aggressively nods along to each and every one of Poppy’s words and her lips form a small smile, which Poppy reciprocates. 

“Well, umm I should get back to practice and so should you, I’ll tell the guys as well to stop too” 

Poppy genuinely smiles at the girl and gives her a small thank you before turning around to leave the gym. Her eyes catch Bea’s and she crinkles her eyes a little, giving a small smile before leaving the gym to go to practice in the field. 

……

After a couple of gruelling hours of practice Poppy and the rest of the cheerleaders all shower and change before forming a small semicircle around the team captain. Poppy’s gaze shifts between every girl before landing on Veronica’s who gives her a wink. “Great practice today girls, remember that we need to be in top shape for the first football game against Hearst in two weeks.” She claps her hands together as all eyes are entranced on her, “I’m sorry I was late to practice so you guys had to stay back a little longer but remember that your dedication is what’s most important to the team. Also I’m still deciding who will be part of the smaller group to cheer at the volleyball games. When the teams make it to nationals we will be representing Belvoire at the games and will be invited to stay with the volleyball team for two weeks in spring. So…. impress me girls.” The cheerleaders disperse as Veronica and Poppy walk out of the locker room side by side and Veronica bumps Poppy’s shoulder slightly as they walk out to the dimly lit empty parking lot. 

“So I’m guessing whatever epiphany you had worked out”

Poppy chuckles a bit, “what makes you think that?”

“Well you weren’t a crazy bitch today in practice so there’s that. What exactly did you do?”

Poppy lazily picks at one of her manicured nails, “What I should’ve done from the start, gave Chloe a piece of my mind.” 

Veronica lets out a loud exaggerated cough and Poppy looks up at her eyebrow raised, “well whatever you said, I’m guessing it worked,” she nods her head towards the direction over Poppy’s shoulder and Poppy turns to see Bea leaning against her motorbike her eyes fixated on hers and she smiles. “Well, I’ll take that as my cue to leave” she gives the blonde a quick hug and salutes to Bea before heading into her car and driving away. 

Poppy saddles up to Bea and awkwardly tucks in some of her hair behind her ears. Both of them just stare at each other, waiting for the other to initiate the conversation until Bea lets out a laugh. 

“So…” 

“So….”

 “I liked that tactic of yours, slamming Chloe against the wall, I mean I’ve been wishing to do that for years.”

Poppy throws her head back and laughs, “Not my finest moment but I had to do something,” She nervously chews on her lips as she awaits for Bea’s reaction. 

“Yeah, that was uh something,” She hesitantly reaches out to the blonde gripping her waist and pulling her closer, “I’m not fully happy with you though, but thank you. I don’t know what you said to Chloe but this was the first practice where she treated me with some decency.”

Internally, Poppy screams with happiness as this was the first time in days where Bea just simply holds her and she wraps her arms around the taller girl’s neck resting her forehead against hers. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I know I have to earn that. And I know I’ve been a shitty girlfriend-” 

Bea shushes Poppy her hand moving up to cup Poppy’s jaw while her thumb circles her cheekbone, “You’re not a shitty girlfriend Pops. It’s just I wish you could just I don’t know, publicly support me a little. No one’s gonna suspect anything about us just because you’re being a respectable human being.” 

“I know, I know. If I’m being honest, I just froze, I didn’t know what to do but my first instinct should’ve been to help you. It’s just so hard sometimes when everyone’s watching because honestly speaking Bea? I don’t know how you do it sometimes. You’re the most incredible person ever and you deserve to be with someone you can actually be with, not just someone you have to hide in the shadows with.” 

Bea places a finger on Poppy’s lips, silencing her, and when she speaks it’s with the greatest intensity and desirability, “I choose you Poppy. Everyday I choose you. I know it’s not without its challenges but I would rather do hard with you than have it easy with somebody else. You’re worth it all. I just want a little more support, that's all I ask.” 

“And that’s exactly what you’re going to get Bea, I promise,” she leans in and places a soft kiss against Bea’s lips and whispers, “I love you so much, and I promise to do better.”

Bea feverently kisses the blonde before whispering back, “I love you too. Now that we’re okay..how would you like to accompany me to a party this Saturday” her eyes gleam with hopefulness as she knows that Ford is already planning a back to school party on saturday and Poppy’s obligations would usually fall align with her friends. “There’s even going to be fireworks.”

Poppy kisses the brunette, “Fireworks huh? I would love to” she kisses Bea again, filled with passion as the couple of days they spent without each other catches up to them and Bea grips Poppy’s hips tighter pulling her impossibly closer to her. 

Unbeknown to the girls, a figure in the corner of the parking lot watches the girls locked in a passionate embrace which is eventually broken as the brunette offers to drive the blonde home and they drive off together, happy and content. 

read part 4 here: 

[statticscribbles]

Pride

Summary: Swangs (Fangs/Sweet Pea) Sweet Pea just has no luck when it comes to timing

TW: Use of homophobic slurs

There’s a lot of things Sweet Pea doesn’t give a shit about, he can list them either alphabetically or by his personal ranking of distain; the highest on his list is people being shitty to Fangs. He could lump it in as a general people being shitty to his friends but he’s seen and heard too many people brushing off the Southside into one group. The insults have changed. What once was chorus’s of

“Southside trash” “trailer park scum” “criminals”  “hoodlums” “freaks” has now evolved into “freaks” “faggot” “bitch”  “homo bastard” “degenerates” “queer”

Sweet Pea doesn’t admit to either Fangs or Toni how many times he comes over with bruised knuckles or a black eye, when he splits his lip too deep so he needs stitches. None of them are earned as recklessly as he lets them believe his temper is. He keeps his reasoning to himself, quoting the Serpent laws anytime he returns from letting his temper get the best of him like an idiot; as Toni and Fangs often yell at him. He just grins, one less person threatening them is a victory no matter how much he bleeds.

He’s the first to join the Serpents, he makes Toni wait two weeks after his ceremony, joking he doesn’t want to be upstaged. He endures her annoyed side eyes and rants about her being blood anyways. Still she waits. He feels childish asking about how the Serpents feel about LBGT members. FP looks at him like he ’s a bigger idiot than usual and introduces him to Joaquin that same night. He let’s Joaquin know he’s not his type and Joaquin makes some quip about Sweet Pea ending up with some Northside prep; he’s smiling when he says it and Sweet Pea laughs joking about he’ll find the perfect boy next door; Joaquin joins in on his jesting and they spend the night joking and laughing about imaginary Northsider’s.

It isn’t until later, when Toni and Fangs appear to bring him home that Joaquin’s eyes light up in understanding. Fang’s doesn’t get it, not when Sweet Pea pretends to be a little too drunk to lean on him, or how Joaquin gives FP a nod and sly smile. Toni is the one to cold shower him. Fangs sets him in the tub, Toni hisses how gentle he is and Fangs leaves, he always hated dousing Sweet Pea with the showers cold spray.

He’s relieved when there’s a knock at the door, Joaquin standing, sly smile on his face once more. “Glad he had the guts.” Is all he says, passing Fangs Sweet Pea’s jacket. “Wait there’s-” “Topaz’s” Fangs nods, and pushes the smaller jacket into her hands, she swears him to secrecy about her dancing around the living room.

They wake up on the couch, Sweet Pea setting mugs of coffee on the table. He cracks his neck and Toni smirks. “Fell asleep in the tub again, how the fuck do I keep ending up there?” He rolls his eyes as she shrugs. “It’s a mystery.” She flashes her jacket and Sweet Pea takes a sip of his coffee. “You pick out where you want your tat?” She beams nodding.

“You know he wants to join, he might as well already be a member anyways.”  Toni speaks turning from behind the bar to nod at where Fangs plays pool with Joaquin.

“You know being a Serpent is dangerous. Especially being like we are. Anyone finds out it’s twice the reason to kill us, can’t have you being a gang member and a homo.” Sweet Pea glares at the ground, Toni places her hand on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it more dangerous to not be a Serpent then? To not have our protection.” Sweet Pea shakes his head. “He has me.” “And you have us, and him. Everyone knows Sweet Pea. Except him, you need to tell him at some point.” Sweet Pea nods. He stands bolstering himself to go over to play pool with them, to confess his feelings to Fangs, but Joaquin seems to pick up on it and vanishes too early; Fangs returns back to the bar whining to Toni about there not being any cute guys that are available. Sweet Pea knows the look Toni gives Fangs and him is meant to be a ‘you’re both idiots’ Fangs reads it as ‘can you believe this again’ and huffs retreating to where the other serpent’s are starting up darts. “Tomorrow.” He asks Toni to be there for support claiming he wants to hang out with Fangs and her like the old days.

Toni excuses herself to go home, something about her grandfather needing help; Sweet Pea steels himself, broaching the subject nervously. “Fangs, this is gonna sound really stupid but, how did you know you liked guys?” “It was more like I knew I didn’t like girls, why? Sweet Pea do you-“ He’s never seen Fangs look so hopeful. “Oh uh, I like girls, uh both, both actually.” He stumbles over the words as the hope flickers in Fang’s eyes. “Oh, good for you.” Fang’s smiles and turns to the text on his phone. “You, actually I like-“ He whispers “Hey sorry my mom needs me to call her.” Fangs looks apologetically at Sweet Pea who just nods dumbly.

Sweet Pea’s not sure if he can breathe anymore, not with the way Fangs looks numbly at the wall, or when he lets the phone and himself crumble to the ground as he shakes, choking instead of breathing. Sweet Pea tugs him onto his lap without thinking and pulls the phone up at the same time. “Mrs. Fogarty, is everything okay?” “Of course Sweet Pea, everything is fine dear.” Fang’s make a sort of gagging sound that he realizes is meant to be a no. “Tell Fangs I’ll see him tomorrow.” “Of course M-Mrs. Fogarty.” Sweet Pea hangs up and runs his hand through Fang’s hair.

“What happened? What’s wrong Fangs? What’s wrong?” He tries to keep his voice calm but all Fang’s does is keep hissing and mumbling and not speaking and Sweet Pea can feel the panic rising in his chest just the same when he hears people muttering about how much better he could do than being friends with the likes of Fangs; of course there’s nothing to punch, nothing to take the anger, the fear out on, so he sits, hands fluttering against any part of Fang’s that doesn’t make him pull away. They sit for an hour, until his legs are numb from the weight of them both, and his shirt has a wet spot on each of his shoulders.

They sit in half silence; half in reality until Fangs is almost asleep, just numb staring at the doorway. Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything as Fang’s shifts in his arms, hands twisting into his shirt. “ ‘s cancer. Doc’s already said it’s a loosing fight; I can’t. I can’t Sweets; it’ll-“ Fangs doesn’t finish his body jerking as his breathing goes once more. “Fangs, hey; I’m here. I’m here.” “I shouldn’t be, I shouldn’t be- why can’t it be me Sweet’s; why it gotta be my mom.” Sweet Pea doesn’t say anything, just tightening his grip. “Can’t afford none of it, said it wouldn’t help anyways, just pain management, can’t even give her a chance.” He hisses the last bit jerking away from Sweet Pea.

“Fangs, hey listen-“ “Sorry;” He wipes at his eyes and nose. “You were sayin’ something important.” “Yeah, I uh, well fuck it doesn’t seem as important now.” He laughs a little.

“Come on, Joaquin said you got your eye on someone, you ask ‘em out yet? Is that it? You finally not single for once?” Fangs laughs a little but his throat is too raw to do more than sob awkwardly. “No I haven’t asked him out yet.” “You gonna, come on, don’t chicken out. First real boyfriend as a possibility” “Well it’s complicated.” Fangs rolls his eyes. “Can’t be that complicated, you just walk up ask him out and kiss him if he says yes.” “So you wanna go out?” Sweet Pea sighs shakily.

“Yeah like that. What?” Fangs furrows his brow. “Well I’m waiting for him to say yes, so I can kiss him.” “Oh, um the Wyrm at seven?” “Is that a yes?” Fangs nods laughing as Sweet Pea bumps their foreheads together kissing him softly.

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[spooky-luvur]

Is it possible for you to do a fic with Dutch with a male s/o who's deeply in love with him but has a shitty, very homophobic and abusive family?

Anything is possible, dearie.

Also, idk how to put in a ‘read more’ on mobile, so until someone helps me do that, you’re stuck with a big block of text sorry.

I really enjoyed writing this. I hope it’s okay. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

-

(Warnings: abuse, mentions of rape, language)

(Sorry for any spelling mistakes)

-

Ranching had been your family’s life since the day your great-great grandpappy had built the entire thing with his own two hands. It was for his wife, Amy Rose. She had come down with a serious illness one day, and she told her husband that before she died she wanted to own a ranch. And he loved her enough to let her have her wish. And so Amy Rose Ranch was born.

You lived and worked here with your parents and two older brothers. Although you wouldn’t exactly say they worked here too. Your family wasn’t...the nicest folk. At least, when it came to you. They thought you were no good, so they left you with the dirty work around the ranch. Which was pretty much...everything.

Shoveling shit, for one. It had to be your least favorite. You also had to do it quickeri than a man could pull a gun on his enemy during a duel. If you took too long, your brothers would come in and force you to clean it all up with your hands, saying the shovel was the reasons you was taking so long.

Ma handled the fancy stuff that didn’t require no shit shoveling or cow milking. She busied herself with the money and who owed them what. Money was a big thing to Ma. She always had to have as much as possible so Pa could buy her that new jewelry set or a fancy mirror. Buyin’ herself all the new clothes and looking more like a queen than a ranch owner.

Pa wasn’t no good neither, but don’t let him catch you sayin’ that. He’s as good as a saint around other folk, but around you, he was as mean and nasty as the devil himself. He’d beat you when he was mad, or when somethin’ around the ranch went wrong, or, on real nasty days, he’d lock you up in the cellar, yelling at you that is was your fault they was losin’ so much money. You never thought too much of it. Honest. It’d been the same for so many years that you’d begun to think it was only normal. That maybe you were the cause of all their problems.

But not this one.

—————

Loud laughter from outside the barn made you pause from laying out hay for the pregnant cow in there. You recognized your pa’s very loud and very fake laugh he saved for folk with lots of money. Shaking your head in sympathy for whatever man stupid enough to fall right into your fathers greedy hands, you turn back to the hay. Before you can finish, though, you flinch at what Pa says next.

“My youngest boy, (M/n), is the one that handles the horses. (M/n)!”

You force back a loud sigh and set down the rest of the hay, pushing open the barn doors to stand next to Pa.

“Yes sir.”

“Take these fine gentlemen to pick out a few horses.”

Your gaze skins over the rough-looking men before you nod.

“Yes sir.”

Before you can turn to lead them to the stables, your father roughly but discreetly grabs your arm and hisses in your ear.

“Don’t screw this up. They have big money.”

You incline your head in a nod, and he lets go, allowing you to lead the men away.

“Dutch Van der Linde.” The nicest dressed man beside you holding out his hands, metal rings gleaming in the harsh sun. You hesitate. Pa had always told to never interact with anyone more than you needed to. For the sake of the other person, of course. Finally getting a good look at the mans face, your breath catches in your throat awkwardly.

By god, he was lovely.

Warm brown eyes look at you curiously. You remember his hand and hurriedly shake it, eyes never leaving his face.

“Uh- I’m- (M/n), I’m (M/n)...”

“Well it’s good to meet you, Mr. (M/n).”

-

“This is Colt. Four years, Thoroughbred. Good if you wanna be fast. Ezra, five years, Paint.”

Dutch nods along as you list off fair horses. The other two men were off somewhere else in the stables after he’d nodded for them to trot off and check out the other horses.

It was all going well, with Dutch asking a question ever now and again, until you were in the middle of explaining how you bred one horse. The sound of a gun cocking makes your entire body freeze up at the unfamiliar sound. You put your hands up by your head like Pa had taught you to.

Dutch’s warm breath fans over your neck, making you shiver. His voice comes close to your ear.

“Now, Mr. (M/n), we’re going to take a few horses, and you’re going to tell your Pa we’ll be back in a day or two to pay. You think you can do that?”

A sinister laugh from the side makes you flinch.

“Aw, Dutch, don’t make the kid piss himself! He’s shakin’ in his boots!” The mean voice taunts, making Dutch chuckle. The cold barrel of the gun leaves your back, making you relax slightly, hands lowering. He turns you around, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“You gonna answer me?”

“Yes sir, I- I can do that.”

He pats your shoulder. “Good.”

-

“What?!”

“Th-they said they was gonna be back Pa, I didn’t-“

He backhands you, making you fall back with a pained noise you cut off in your throat.

“They better. They better come back, and they better pay, or it’s you I’m putting a bullet through next! Understand me, boy?!”

“Yes sir...”

-

A few days later, the men do return. They don’t return on the horses they took, which confuses you a bit, but you don’t have the time to think about it once Pa offers them to have some fancy whiskey in the drinking room.

They laugh like they did when the men was first here. This time, both Ma and Pa were laughing with them. Pa yells for you to come pour some more drinks. You go and do so, handing them out. Once you offer Dutch his, he grabs your arm instead of the glass, making you let out a small startled noise. His eyes meet yours before they move down to your uncovered arm, tracing the bruises left by the many harsh grabs from your Pa and brothers. He lets go after a few moments and grabs his glass, taking a sip as if he didn’t do a thing. You blink, straightening up and taking your place beside Pa’s chair.

“What do you and your men do for a living, Mr. Van der Linde?”

Ma’s honey eyes trail over the mans strong arms, down to his several expensive-looking rings. She flutters her eyelashes, giving him an attractive grin.

“We’re merely men, Mrs. O’Malley. Men that needed horses.”

She gives him a fluttery laugh, trailing her fingertips along her exposed collarbone. To your relief and amazement, he doesn’t even give her a second glance. She doesn’t seem to notice his attention is no longer on her.

“So, Mr. Van der Linde, our money?”

“Of course, sir. We have your money. But first, how about another drink?”

Pa never refuses another drink.

“Of course! You can even pick it out. (M/n)!”

“Yes sir.”

“Show Mr. Van der Linde our selection. Help him choose well.”

“Yes sir.”

The entire way to the room, you can feel Dutch’s eyes burning holes into the back of your head. Neither of you say a word, though. You were still wary of the man that held a loaded gun to your back.

You open the door to the room filled with various kinds of alcohol, bowing your head once Dutch passes.

His eyes skim over the room before he turns to you, making you straighten up, keeping your head down. You clench you’re first to stop them from shaking.

You hear the well-dressed man slowly walk closer and closer, until you can see his polished shoes. Nearly jumping at his fingers curling under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. His...kind...eyes.

“Your daddy ain’t very good to you.”

It’s not a question.

“I...Pa’s just...he works hard-“

“A daddy should work hard and respect his son.”

Dutch grabs your arm with his other hand, turning it over to look at all the scars and bruises. “This, this is *not* respecting your son.”

Your eyes start to water. “Please...Mr. Van der Linde-“

You look back up, into his eyes, and your face falls completely. That look...a look of pure concern...you’ve never seen a look like that directed to you. Ever. But...they’re not good men. You can tell. Pa can tell. Something’s off. But even with that, you can’t help but feel a pull toward the man before you, as if you need him. Need him to care about you.

But before anything else can happen, the door swings open, making you jump back. Dutch, however, doesn’t move, staying perfectly calm.

Your brother stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He looks between the two of you, putting the pieces together.

Then, his mouth curls into the most sinister and evil grin you’d ever seen.

That’s when you knew, you were fucked.

Pa didn’t say a word to you the rest of the night. You didn’t know if your brother, Alan, had told him what he’d seen. You were tense, waiting for someone to jump up and strike you so hard you’d die.

But nothing happens.

By the end of the night, Pa and Ma are as drunk as a crook. They laugh heartily as they show the men out, completely forgetting all about the thousand or so dollars they still owe them. It was a trick, you realize. You don’t think the men have the money. And Mr. Van der Linde, you realize as the man meets your eye, knows that.

Pa beats you that night.

-

Two days later, the men return. But things are different. Pa is impatient, and is also starting to wonder if they actually have any money, or if they’re the drunk crooks. They take their seat in the sitting room, but Dutch is the only man from his side to sit as well. The other two men remain standing. Tense. Like a guard waiting for a moment to strike.

No drinks are poured.

For the first several moments, no words are exchanged.

Then, Pa asks the question.

“Where is my money Dutch Van der Linde.”

Dutch intertwines his ringed fingers. The corners of his mouth twitch. He looks amused.

“There is no money.”

Faster than anyone else can move, Pa lets out an angry cry and whips up out of his seat, taking the bottle of expensive scotch on the table and smashing it over your head. Foul smelling liquid and tint shards of glass rain down on your face, that and the pain making you cry out, stumbling to the floor. The alcohol stings your eyes and blurs your vision.

Dutch, to the others astonishment, springs to his feet, clenching his jaw as he takes in your crouched form.

“My money! Give me my money!”

Ma gasps as the other two men whip our their guns, both of them pointed at Pa. The man seethes, deciding to turn his anger to you. He kicks you in the chest, making you let out a pained wheeze.

“Faggot! You goddamn faggot! This is all your fault!”

“Settle down, Mr. O’Malley. Your son did nothing-“

“Nothing?! Why are you so concerned for him?! Did he suck your cock?! Did you fuck him?! That’s all he’s good for!”

The air in the room itself seems to pause. All three of the men freeze and look at Pa with wide eyes. He wouldn’t...

“Fine! If you want him so much then take him!”

He pulls you up by your hair, throwing you at Dutch who catches you in his arms. You push yourself into his chest, tears and blood running down your face.

Someone’s gun goes off. Something falls to the floor. Ma’s scream is cut off by another shot. Something else falls, and then it’s silent.

That night, you stand outside the house with Dutch.

“I am...sorry...you had to live like that, (M/n).” He pulls out a nice stack of bills from his pocket, putting them into your hand. “But you don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

You frown.

“You can go into town, take the train somewhere and-“

“No!”

Dutch raises his brow. “No?”

“I...” you shift, embarrassed. “I want to come with you. Please.”

He shakes his head. “My life isn’t-“

“I don’t care!” You force the money back into his hands.

“If it isn’t with you then I don’t want it. I’ll...I’ll never be safe!”

Dutch studies you for a long moment. Finally, he grins.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

[thequietuptown]

As a guy, how can I effectively call out other men's shitty behavior when I see it?

Hello friend,

This is such a great question, and thank you for adopting a great ally mindset. I've written about calling out racism and bigotry before, and I'll include that response below, because I think a lot of the same practices apply.

A lot of men have bought into some of the narratives supplied by a toxic view of masculinity, and it can be really frustrating and disappointing to see your close friends kind of go on auto-pilot and promote those harmful beliefs/behaviors without ever stopping to think about it. We hear our friends make inappropriate comments, or ply people with alcohol well after they've tried to establish boundaries. We see our brothers pester people into dates, unable to take no for an answer. We see men that we love compartmentalize and shut down because they think being strong means not showing any emotions, when we know true strength means acting with integrity in the face of adversity. In any of those cases, unchallenged assumptions are at play, and those men deserve better than to be told that's how they should act.

Whenever you see or hear something that you feel needs to be stopped, there are four things to keep in mind. First, try not to hesitate. This doesn't mean you should put him on the spot in a way that makes him feel like you think he's a bad person (even if you do think that) because that could just lead to him getting defensive and doubling down on his actions, or it could make the other people around feel ashamed or embarrassed. Rather, it means calling attention to the problematic behavior as close to its occurrence as is possible to do so in a safe manner, and to be able to pinpoint what exactly you found problematic. If you can't have that conversation right then and there, call attention to it by saying something along the lines of "Hey now..." or "Ouch," anything that will stick out in his mind as a response to his actions/comments.

Second, tell him his behavior isn't okay with you. A lot of the time we fall into the trap of saying things like "she's somebody's sister/daughter," and, while that may be well-intentioned, it also erases the fact that she's a person and the acceptability of the behavior in question isn't based on her perceived gender. Also, the creation of a hypothetical woman generally won't stop the behavior if he just doesn't respect women. Take ownership of the fact that his actions made you uncomfortable, so that he can't just write it off.

Third, make sure the confrontation isn't an attack. Regardless of whether or not we think it might be deserved, punishment generally isn't a great way to correct behavior. Be vulnerable with him when having the conversation, and take the time to calmly educate him on why his behavior was troubling.

Finally, if other people are around and you can't pull him aside to have that conversation in a safe way, ask questions that will get him to think about his actions or words. My go to questions in these situations are "Why do you say that?" or "Did you mean to do that?" This goes back to the unchallenged assumptions I mentioned earlier. A lot of us act or speak without thinking, especially when we're relying on those toxic narratives. These questions give him an opportunity to immediately reflect on what he just said/did, and with any self-awareness, he might correct himself in the moment. It gives him an opportunity to save face without aggressively putting him on the spot.

It's difficult to challenge other men's behavior on your own, but it is so important to have a familiar voice be that driving force for change. I wish you the best in establishing these boundaries around you.

With love, friend.

Below is the aforementioned post confronting bigoted remarks:

It seems these days that bigoted remarks are becoming more and more commonplace. With the current political climate and figureheads in power, it seems we cannot go one day without hearing something awful slip from someone’s mouth around us. It can be hard to speak up, and, let’s face it, it can be dangerous. It can invite a world of problems into our lives simply because we are trying to do the right thing. But you know who has it worse? The people that are the targets of such remarks.

I’m not saying to put your neck on the line. In any given situation, your safety and security, both physical and emotional, should come first, but there are things that you can do. The Southern Poverty Law Center has a great guide to Responding to Everyday Bigotry. They break it down into categories about how to deal with co-workers, neighbors, family members, you name it. So I would invite you to take a look at that, if you have the time and you are serious about speaking up.

But, as with any conflict, preparedness is key. You know it’s going to happen again so think about what you’re going to say in advance. Don’t stoop to their level and resort to name calling. Even try to avoid using words like racist or sexist, even though their words may very well be those things. This will put up walls and may open you up to some backlash. Asking open-ended questions is a good way to start a conversation to see if they can put the pieces together themselves. My go to question is “Why do you say that?” because it makes the person stop and actually think about the words they have said, which might be something they are not used to doing. I had a friend in high school who would say “Get your life together” any time he heard a homophobic remark. That’s a little bit more aggressive than what I would be comfortable with, but find something that works for you.

Another thing you can do is try to create a safe space around you. If this is something happening in your work environment, put up a poster or flier that says that your personal space if a safe space. If you notice recurring behaviors, set limits. Tell them, “Please don’t tell those jokes/make those remarks. At the very least don’t make them around me.” Most importantly find and be an ally. There’s safety in numbers, and it is easier to confront someone on their casual bigotry when you know someone has your back.

I know it’s scary, but remember: you’re doing the right thing. If you are getting offended when it’s not aimed at you, it’s taking its toll. Don’t let it. Remaining silent is surrendering a part of yourself and letting those attitudes continue unchecked. If you need that ally, I am here for you.

With love, friend.

[talesfromthesnogbox]

A Little Bit of Love

Summary: Richie surprises Eddie by going on Celebrity Drag Race.

Word Count: 3,075

Notes: Hi this is so stupid but it was bugging me so I had to write it okay bye.

AO3 Link

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey Eddie, come down I want to show you something.”

Eddie raced down the stairs to find Richie on the couch, VH1 paused and ready for his surprise appearance.

“Celebrity Drag Race? I’ve spent the last week binging it while you’ve been ‘writing’, why do you want to watch it now?”

He hit Eddie lightly on the chest. “Shut up. I want to watch it with you!”

Richie had yet to tell any of his friends that he was going on Drag Race, and even more surprisingly, he was officially coming out to the world. Most of the Losers already knew he was gay, and he knew that Eddie kind of knew, but he hadn’t formally said anything to him about it.

The two of them sat in silence as the queens talked amongst themselves, wondering who would walk into the workroom first. Finally, Richie was revealed, and the queens went quiet.

Richie’s palms were sweaty, almost as sweaty as when he first stepped out behind that curtain in the loudest rainbow tie-dye button up shirt he could find.

“The Trashmouth has arrived.” He said onscreen, looking around at the pink… everything.

“Richie, what the fuck?” Eddie took the remote from him and paused the television. “When the fuck did you do Drag Race?”

“Surprise?” He chuckled seeing Eddie’s expression turn from angry to downright amused. “Alright, I signed an NDA, I wasn’t allowed to say anything!”

“Hi, I’m Richie, I’m 41 years old, and I’m a stand up comedian.” The scene on TV flashed back and forth from the usual flashy confessional screen and Richie exploring the workroom. He was the first one in, and he ogled the sequin gowns lining the walls, and the makeup on the counters. “I’ll be honest, I hadn’t watched the show until very recently. Last year I went back to my hometown in Derry, Maine for a little reunion with some childhood friends of mine, and went through a pretty traumatic experience. There’s this old abandoned house that all the kids used to tell ghost stories about and be scared of, and we, being the dumbass adults we are, decided to take a look around inside. It uh… it collapsed while we were inside, and my best friend Eddie actually ended up getting really badly hurt.”

 The screen flashes from Richie, tearing up in his confessional, to photos of them as kids, and one they’d taken as a group when they arrived.

“That really fucked me up, I thought… I thought I was gonna lose him, and I never… yeah, it just taught me to really hold your loved ones close. He’s alright, he’s actually living with me now, and he’s the one that got me to watch the show.” Richie’s somber expression changes to one of joy as he talks about Eddie. “I’ve been doing a lot of work writing for my upcoming tour, but Eddie watches Drag Race every chance he gets. When they asked me if I wanted to go on the show, it was an automatic yes, I didn’t even have to think about it. We’d been through so much last year, so I really wanted to surprise Eddie, and I thought it would be a great way to introduce myself formally as a part of the LGBTQ community.” Richie on screen held up a little rainbow flag and waved it around. “Honestly I think the producers were hoping I’d say no. I’ve been kind of a piece of shit… no, I’ve been a huge piece of shit, my work was pretty disgusting, and I want to change that. The first step is coming out, so yes, I was overcompensating with my comedy to hide how far in the closet I was. Hi, I’m gay!”

“Surprise?”

Eddie paused the TV again and turned to look at Richie, tears in his eyes. “Dude, I’m really proud of you.” He brought his friend in close for a hug, feeling hot splashes of tears fall on his neck.

“I’m sorry I never told you.”

“It’s okay, you weren’t ready Trashmouth.”

They dried their tears as they watched Richie interact with the other two celebrity guests as they arrived in the workroom, casually chatting about work and their mutual respect for the show, when finally RuPaul Charles arrived.

“So, was he amazing in person?”

Richie laughed. “Oh my god he’s the most fabulous human being alive, seriously I have so much respect for him.”

Eddie was giddy as he asked Richie questions about Ru, the workroom, the Pit Crew.

“Honestly, the Pit Crew is amazing, if I had a body like that I too would be flaunting it in those tiny briefs.” He laughed. “But it’s so hot in there with all those lights, they’re the luckiest people on this show.”

Finally, the real queens were added into the mix. Eddie watched with rapt attention as Richie and the other two contestants fumbled their way into “quick drag”, giggling at Richie struggling with a tube of lipstick and a horrendous blonde wig. Luckily for Richie, their mini challenge was an improv challenge, and he absolutely nailed it, making Ru and the rest of the queens shed tears of laughter.

“I still can’t believe you’re on the show, and now you’re winning the mini challenge? What the fuck?”

“Yeah! I got to pair up everyone with their queens. I know you really like Nina West so…”

Eddie’s jaw dropped as Richie took his place beside his favourite queen on the show, the lovely Nina West. “Shut up!”

“She’s a real sweetheart.”

Richie had seen parts of the episode already in its early stages and knew when certain… uncomfortable… moments were coming up. He did quite a bit of crying in his confessionals, and even had Nina tearing up a bit too.

Their maxi challenge was a lipsync performance, and Eddie already knew Richie was going to kill it. All the celebrities on the show were (now) out, gay men, and the number was a love-letter to Pride, something Richie had never actually participated in.

The other celebrities were all taken aback as the queens were to hear Richie come out to them in the workroom, but quickly accepted him in with a hug. “Richie you’ll love it, it’s like one big party celebrating who you are, and celebrating acceptance.” At that, Richie on screen started to tear up, knowing he hadn’t experienced that kind of acceptance from strangers before. “Sorry, you’re all so nice, I just… I dunno, expected to be booed off the set or something. I’ve been such an asshole in my sets just to hide it.”

Richie was crying in his confessional as well. “All my life I grew up in this shitty little town where everyone was homophobic, and misogynistic. I had bullies throwing slurs at me left, right and center, and I wasn’t even out, hell I didn’t even think I did anything that would even give anyone the hint that I was gay. I used to joke about fucking my friends’ moms, one in particular, mostly to hide the way I really felt…”

Back in the workroom, the queens and other contestants were still gathered around him. “I know how shitty it felt to be called names, and to feel like your life doesn’t matter, to feel like you’re an abomination because assholes like me told you so. My parents were really loving, and still are, my mom cried and told me she loved me when I came out to her last month, but not everyone gets that kind of love. And I feel like some of my stand up routines just made people feel worse. Man I regret so much of what I’ve said on stage, it’s not me, it was all a front because of how scared I was to admit that I’m gay.”

Nina pulled Richie into a hug as he wiped his eyes. “You’ll always be loved and accepted Richie, it’s never too late to admit you fucked up and make amends.” The rest of the cast joined Nina in their hug, only making Richie cry harder. “I’m so proud to have you as my drag daughter.”

Eddie paused as the show went to commercial and turned to his friend, who was once again, misty eyed.

“Rich…”

“You have no idea how hard it was filming that.” His voice was quiet. “I was such a piece of shit, and they literally just pulled me into a hug and told me they loved me for who I was.”

Eddie laid his head on Richie’s shoulder. “We love you too, you know that right? All the losers. It doesn’t matter to us if you’re gay or if you’re straight, or whatever… we’re here Rich.”

“I know, thank you.”

“Nobody’s going to hate you for being gay.”

Richie scoffed. “Twitter may have something else to say about that. I’m pretty sure I pissed off enough people to be banished from the community.”

“Well they can fuck off. I’ll fight every one of them if I have to.” Eddie snickered and hit play again, skipping forwards through the commercials. His favourite part of the show was always when the makeover finally happened. Richie appeared on screen clean-shaven wearing contacts, a rare sight for Eddie, and ready to be made beautiful.

“Please don’t laugh, Eds.”

“Why would I—”

On screen Richie removed his shirt and replaced it with a heavily padded bra. “So I don’t know how keen you are on this, but I quite like my chest hair.”

Nina shrugged. “That’s okay, for the runway we can put you in something with a high collar so you’re covered up.”

Richie chuckled. “No… I… there’s a Canadian queen I like that is kind of advocating for the destigmatization of female body hair, and she keeps her chest… out in the open, hair and all. If you’re okay with it… I’d kinda like to do that too.”

Nina smiled back at Richie and discarded of the high-necked bodysuit she was holding. “Alright, tits out it is.”

Eddie sat silently beside Richie, his mouth going dry at the sight of Richie’s chest out in the open while Nina worked on his face. He’d been joining Eddie’s physical therapy exercises for support, and kept up with him whenever he was at the gym, so his stomach and chest were a lot more toned than they were in the summer they’d reunited. Eddie had never really noticed, even when Richie walked around shirtless, but now… now he was noticing.

He noticed the way the veins in Richie’s forearms stood out, how the muscles moved beneath his skin as he reached out to grab the makeup Nina pointed to, how they went rigid when he flexed, lifting a case that was clearly heavy.

Richie got up from beside Eddie awkwardly. “I’ll be… I’ll be right back.”

Eddie frowned at the awkward tension coming from Richie before he realized on screen it was time to ‘tuck’. He let out a giggle as he watched Nina lead Richie back behind a screen and try to walk him through the practice.

“Yeah just take it and…”

Richie winced on screen. “I don’t know man, it’s not… is that right?”

“Here, let me…” Nina stepped in, and Eddie was instantly cackling, watching Richie’s face change expressions from annoyance to shock to discomfort.

Confessional Richie winced, a pained smile painting his face as he nodded. “I publicly came out and less than 20 minutes later had a man touch my dick for the first time, and I’ve gotta tell you… was not a great feeling. Let’s hope it’s better the next time when I actually get to… you know… is it weird that I’m talking about people touching my dick on camera?” He asked a producer off-camera.

“We’ve heard worse.” The producer rebutted, making Richie snort a laugh on screen.

Eddie watched Richie walk back into the room and slide beside him on the couch again. “Yeah, I… I wasn’t a fan of that whole…” he waved his hands over his crotch area, “tucking thing.”

“It sounds horrible.” Eddie agreed.

Finally, it was time for them to be introduced on the runway. Richie was the last to walk, and by far, had the biggest transformation. “Our final queen is Rachelle Von Dixx.” Eddie paused before he could step out onto the stage and looked at his friend.

“Of ALL the drag names you could have chosen, you went with Rachelle Von Dixx?”

“What can I say, it spoke to me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat, hitting play once more. He hated to admit it, but Richie was Rachelle. Just as charismatic on the runway as Nina was, making faces at the judges, doing little spins with his arms wide to make his skirt flow around him. He looked totally comfortable up there and…

“You’re surprisingly good at walking in heels.”

Richie shrugged. “I used to wear my sister’s heels around the house for shits and giggles. They aren’t that hard to walk in.”

The challenge was over, it was time for the judges’ critiques, and Eddie was not prepared for them to critique Richie. But… they didn’t actually have anything bad to say about him.

“So I guess a congratulations and welcome to the family is in order for miss Rachelle. It’s hard to come out, and you’re doing it on TV.” Ru said after Richie’s critiques.

“Yeah, yeah thank you! It’s been an incredibly eye-opening experience, and I’m really, really grateful for it. The love and support everyone… oh god I said I wasn’t gonna cry on the main stage.” He laughed, fanning his eyes as the other queens gathered around him. “Whew, I’m okay. It’s just incredible, and I… thank you.”

“That’s beautiful Rachelle.” Ru blew him a kiss.

“So is there a special man in your life then?” Richie froze on stage as the question was hurled from the judges’ panel, but a timid smile crossed his face as warmth spread through his body. “Oh, I think that means there is!”

“No, it’s not… it’s not like that!” Richie insisted on screen, his smile giving him away. “I… I’ve known him forever and I love him, I think he was my first love, but, he doesn’t know any of this, I haven’t even come out to him yet.”

Confessional Richie looked past the camera at the producers. “Those judges man, they can like see into your soul. I’ve only ever really told like three people that I love Eddie, and two of them are my parents. Stan has been sworn to secrecy about it since we were like twelve.” Richie laughed. “Feels good though, finally saying it.” He nodded, deep in thought. “You’re gonna edit this out, right?”

Richie got up from his spot beside Eddie, who was too stunned to say anything. His hands were shaking as he walked into the kitchen, swearing.

“Rich, hey Rich, come back here.” Eddie followed him, catching him by the back of his shirt.

“Fuck man… fuck.” Richie raked his fingers through his hair, eyes darting wildly around the room. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t think they’d put that in there. I don’t know why I even said it, I… I’m sorry I embarrassed you, I never meant for this—”

“Hey, hey Rich, look at me!”

Richie turned, his eyes misting over with tears for the umpteenth time that night. He could hear his phone going off in the other room, buzzing with the excitement of the confession from his friends and family, the internet inevitably exploding with shock.

“I never meant for you to find out.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because Eds… we’ve been friends since we were like six. I don’t want to give up on all those years of friendship just because my heart can’t keep it in its pants.”

Eddie scoffed. “You think you’re the only one who feels this way? Dude, I divorced my wife then moved across the country to live with you.”

Richie shrugged. “Yeah, so? I offered my spare room to you, you had nowhere else to go.”

“Stan, Ben, and Bill all offered me their spare rooms too. Before you did. I turned them all down Rich.”

Richie was silent.

“I never said anything because I wasn’t sure… wasn’t sure where you stood, if you were seeing someone, or if you even liked men, but Rich… this is me saying something.”

Cheers could be heard from TV in the background of Richie winning the competition, and announcing the LGBTQ+ charity he’d be donating to. They tuned it all out as they each came to the realization of what the other meant to them.

Richie’s eyes widened as it finally hit him. “Oh… oh. So… so you… me?” Eddie let out a boisterous laugh. “Yes you, you idiot. I’ve wanted to say it for so long but… I’m saying it now.”

The sound that left Richie’s mouth was one of shock and disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah dude, holy shit.” Eddie took a step closer to Richie, coming into his personal bubble and staring up at him with doe eyes. “Richie?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I think this is the part where you kiss me.”

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 Later that night once the dust had settled, Richie and Eddie decided to stop playing by any rules or standards anyone had made for dating and go at their own pace. Richie hummed contentedly as Eddie snuggled further into his chest in his bed… their bed. He angled Eddie’s face up towards his, and pulled him into a tender kiss. The other man didn’t realize that Richie had pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of the two.

“What are you doing?”

Richie smiled and kissed the tip of Eddie’s nose. “Making it official.”

Dick Tozier @trashmouth

Guess I have to send a big THANK YOU to @NinaWest for being the best drag mother, and an even bigger THANK YOU to @RuPaul and the editing team of @RuPaulsDragRace for not listening to me when I asked if that line about being in love with my best friend could be cut out. I have you to thank for this.

Richie attached the photo he’d just taken and hit “Send Tweet” before turning off his phone. “Sorry about the chaos that’s about to ensue.”

Eddie giggled. “I don’t care, I’m just happy I finally have you.”

[idyllicstarker]

Idea: Starker Tattoos

Heya.. so umm, this ask was made, a long time ago. But I actually did finally do it! I know it isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it is what came from it, so I hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: Slightly fem!peter, daddy kink, one mention of the word homophobia, light smut, foul language

| Part two

“It’s just a tattoo, I don’t see what your problem is!” 

The frustration in Peter’s tone was evidently getting stronger, his pitch increasing the longer this conversation went on, because for the life of him he couldn’t understand why Tony wouldn’t just let him get it. The longer he argued the more worked up he was getting. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument after all, and Peter was at his last straw by now. 

“Well, answer me then, what’s your problem?”, he repeated, his tone firm, but increasingly strained, choked up from the emotion. Peter could never fight with Tony without getting emotional. No matter how angry he was, he could not physically argue with him without tears appearing. He hated it, because he hated seeming weak when he was trying to be strong. The nature of their relationship already meant that Tony barely took him seriously when he was trying to be authoritative; to Tony he was being nothing more than a bratty baby. But Peter wasn’t, he was genuinely 

“I don’t have a problem with you getting a tattoo Peter. I just..”

Tony trailed off, letting out a sigh. He was tired, today had been a long day. He’d got through seven clients, which may not seem like a lot, but each tattoo had intricate detail, colour, and perfection. It had been a long day of concentrating, and he just wanted to rest his eyes. His migraine wasn’t helping at all, and as he learnt against the counter in his tattoo shop he found his eyes closing without his control. 

As Peter watched with narrowed eyes, he scoffed, and shook his head. “You’re infuriating”, he muttered quietly to himself, turning around to grab his jacket from the communal hooks in the store. It was a small pink leather jacket, the lapel in which was dazzled with sparkling diamonds. It matched the pink thigh highs he was sporting, his white body-con dress revealing his milky thighs. When Peter had bounced into the store as the day was ending, Tony couldn’t help but lick his lips, ready to bend Peter over this very counter and fuck him right then and there. But he had to wait until Bucky (his employee and friend) to leave, and by the time he did, Tony managed to muster the self control to wait until they were back home at least. But he knew he was getting nothing tonight after this disagreement. 

“Baby, come on now, where are you going? Let me just lock up and we can leave”, Tony begged, just wanting this conversation to be over. Even if he ended up not getting laid tonight, he at least wanted to curl up in their bed (or at this point maybe he’d be sleeping on the couch) knowing that Peter was safe inside their shared walls. And if he was lucky, with a little bit of coaxing and pampering, a warm bath with bubbles, and some of that cheap red wine he’d bought the other day, he’d be buried inside Peter’s walls. 

Slowly approaching the smaller male, he pressed up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He was gentle enough to not hurt him, but firm enough so that Peter couldn’t squirm away like he tried to do. 

“Get off me, you’ve pissed me off enough today, I’m going to Ned’s”, he hissed, which Tony only groaned at. His warm breath tickled the side of Peter’s neck, a shiver rolling over his body as his hairs stood up, the boy letting out a submissive whimper. 

The sound made Tony smirk - already the boy was melting and it had barely taken any work.

“I’m sure Ned  can’t take care of you like daddy can”, he growled huskily against his ear. He knew the boy top to bottom, knowing exactly what to do to make him weak. And like suspected, Peter was already leaning back against him for support. All it took was one rough push of Tony’s crotch against his ass, to have the boy letting out a moan. 

“Fine, but I want a bath”, he grumbled, his cheeks pink with embarrassment knowing he’d given up way too easily. But he couldn’t exactly show up to Ned’s with the front of his dress straining against his prominent bulge.

Tony chuckled softly against his neck, his tongue slipping from his lips to lick over the warm skin slowly. He licked all the way up to his ear, letting out a soft moan once he reached it, as if Peter was the most delicious snack he’d ever had the opportunity to excite his tongue. In which, he pretty much was. “I knew I’d get through to you eventually”, he hummed, not in a particularly malicious or teasing tone. Just a simple matter of fact tone. He was quite proud of himself in a way, how easy it had been. And it confirmed that Peter wasn’t all that mad, a good thing considering Tony was sick of this conversation. 

“Come on now baby, why don’t you go wait in daddy’s car”, he said, but it wasn’t a request, more like a demand, pushing his body away from Peter’s, emitting a whine from the boy. “Now Peter”, Tony said, quite sternly, delivering a rough slap down on the boys ass, licking his lips at the way it jiggled under the soft cotton, not hiding anything from Tony’s gaze, just the way he liked it. It stretched over his ass, and once again, Tong remembered just how lucky he was to have Peter. He was so perfect, and of course, not just in his body, but in every other way. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Peter’s head. “Come on Pete, I’ve gotta lock up, the sooner I do, the sooner we can leave”, he said in a softer tone this time. “And if you’re good, daddy might just help you out in the car”, he growled lowly, patting his backside gently before moving to begin to turn off all the lights. 

Peter’s smile grew, nodding his head eagerly. He didn’t even say anything, way too excited to get home, tattoo forgotten. He grabbed Tony’s car key, before he practically ran out the door into the car park, scurrying to Tony’s old beaten up car, and slipping into the passenger seat. His dress was up his thighs within a second, rubbing himself through his lace panties with a moan. 

Tony took a last look around the shop, letting out a sigh. His gaze flicked to the window, making sure Peter got into the car safely, but frowned a bit. His precious boy getting into the rusty old steel can, was a heavy sight - he rubbed at his head with a groan. Peter deserved so much more: limousines and sports cars, his own personal driver. Tony didn’t even know how at this point he was keeping a roof over their heads. He struggled to buy Peter clothes for god’s sake. Everything he deserved, Tony couldn’t provide. And his angel of a boyfriend never once complained. But Tony knew, or at least he thought he did, Peter was probably sick of it. He came from wealth and splendour, he was used to mansions and gold, not a shitty, dirty apartment in the rough part of the neighbourhood. Tony closed his eyes, trying to diminish these thoughts. It wasn’t long until Peter turned around and told him he’d had enough, he just had to try and build a better life for them before that. 

With an aching hand he grabbed the store keys, and walked out the door, beginning to lock up. 

~

The ride home was… pleasant, to say the least. Peter’s high pitched whines and moans filling the interior of the car whilst Tony’s large fingers filled him up perfectly, the other hand lay unshaking on the wheel as if nothing was even happening. 

The rest of the night passed like usual. Before they’d even made it through the door, humping each other desperately in the elevator, and Peter giving a not so subtle moan of a “heya Alfred’, to their elderly (extremely homophobic ) neighbour as Tony carried him in. Before they’d even shut the door, Tony whispered “cum for me baby”, and Peter was crying out. His ring of flesh and muscle clenching around Tony’s fingers as he came, his body trembling in his arms. Tony shut the door in just enough time to hear Alfred shouting at them about reporting them, but neither of the two were listening. 

As Peter calmed himself down, with shaky legs he climbed down and was on his knees within seconds. In just two more, Tony’s briefs and jeans were around his ankles and Peter’s lips were wrapped around his cock. 

It was a while before they’d lowered their sex drives just enough to actually eat some proper food and get on with their night (the main event was always saved for later). Tony looked across at Peter from their small kitchen table as he shovelled Kraft Mac and Cheese down his throat. It was far from the five star meal Tony had wanted to give to him, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting one of those at least any time soon. But Peter didn’t seem to mind, he was content with his slightly congealed dinner (because Tony didn’t add enough milk). 

“I’m still not through with this Tony”, Peter said suddenly. 

Tony let out a long sigh, his fork clattering to his plate as he leant back against the creaking chair and closed his eyes. 

“I don’t want you to get all moody with me Tony, but you need to realise this is important to me…”

“Why do you want a tattoo so bad Peter?”, he questioned. There was a long, pregnant silence and thus, Peter’s answer never came. 

“See, you’re being silly. You just want one because you see me, and you see what I do, and you’re fascinated by it”, it was from the truth, but Peter didn’t want to give up the real answer just yet. Sure one of the reasons was because it was a big part of Tony’s life, but it wasn’t the only reason. The fact that he didn’t want to reveal it was what kept him silent. “You don’t need a tattoo my love. Trust me. Your porcelain skin is perfect without having any ink to taint it.”

“But what if it’s important to me…”

“Shush Peter now please. I don’t want to have this conversation anymore”, he continued, ignoring the fact that he’d completely cut Peter off.”It’s like what Kim whatever her last name is said: You wouldn’t put a bumper stick on Harley.”

Peter’s face scrunched up before he huffed. “It was Kim Kardashian. And a Bentley Tony, It was a Bentley. Not everyone thinks a motorbike is the most precious thing in the world like you. If you’re going to try and persuade me with pop culture references at least get them right so you don’t look like a fool at the end of it”, he snapped. 

“I’m sorry baby boy. But that’s it now, come on. No more talk about tattoos.”

Of course Peter was much too stubborn to actually agree. So he stayed quiet, not promising anything but giving up for tonight. He stabbed his fork into a piece of macaroni, putting it into his mouth with a small sigh. A heavy tension warmed both of them, the only sound being their forks scraping against their bowls. It was only once Tony was finished, looking over to Peter with an almost guilty but subtle expression. 

Feeling the gaze on him, Peter’s soft eyes looked up at Tony and finally he smiled.He didn’t want to argue anymore tonight “So am I still getting my bath daddy?”, he asked innocently, and with a chuckle, Tony too, began to smile. 

 “However could I deny my baby of his desires”, yet his smile was tight, unconvinced, because it was pretty easy when he didn’t have the money to get them in the first place.

~

Tony’s wish for that conversation to be the last of its kind was clearly not granted. Sure, Peter had actually waited a full month this time before inquiring again, but Tony just hadn’t wanted it to be bought up at all, but of course, the boy’s persistence was much too strong for that.

Yet his persistence was fueled by the simple reason that Peter was annoyed. Tony didn’t even want to look at the design he’d chosen, and maybe if he did he’d realise why it was so important and special for Peter to get it. So this time, he didn’t give him the choice.

They were cuddling on the couch. Peter tucked snugly under his arm, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over them as both men kept their eyes to the TV. Peter didn’t even know what they were watching, but he was bored.And it wasn’t long before his interests moved someplace else. His fingertips softly crawled down Tony’s arm, his gentle touch scarcely brushing over his skin until he reached where he wanted. Tony of course had two sleeves of tattoos, one on each arm. Starting from the bottom, Peter began to trace around the tattoos gently with his fingertips. Underneath him, Tony tensed, already knowing what was coming from that one small movement. 

“Your tattoos are so pretty Tony”, Peter muttered quietly, looking up at his lover with a sincere grin. 

“Thank you love, you know that means a lot to me… but you’re still not getting one.”

There was a beat of silence before Peter let out a frustrated grin. “Why are you being such an ass about this”, he eventually shouted, pulling himself away from Tony and up off the couch. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table before sitting back down with a pout making sure to leave a good couple of inches away just to emphasise how annoyed he was with the man. “You didn’t even let me finish, I didn’t even get to ask this time but you’re already saying no. Just look and you’ll understand”

Peter thrust the phone under Tony’s nose, forcing him to look at the photo on the screen “MJ drew it for me after I told her what sort of thing I wanted!”

Even Tony had to admit, the idea was cute, and he did understand why Peter wanted it. It was an infinity sign, with Tony’s initials causing a break at the top right and the bottom left. Above it was a heart, and around it birds. It stemmed from Peter’s guilty obsession with the notebook. When they first met, Tony had never watched it, and on when on their midnight picnic date,  Peter said he wished he too would like to be reincarnated into a bird upon his death, and Tony looked over and somehow managed to quote the lines perfectly: ‘If you’re a bird, then I’m a bird’, before leaning in to give him a soft kiss. Of course the quote was written just under the infinity sign and honestly Tony thought it was perfect. It was drawn in such a way that it didn’t seem too much for one tattoo. It was beautiful and yet it hurt his heart.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, but I had to ask you first, I was going to get Bucky to do it, but he knows how protective you are and said he wouldn’t unless he got your permission. But if I don’t then I guess I’ll just go get it done from someone he will, whether you want me too or not. My body, my choice or whatever”, it was a clear sign Peter was seething. He was actually considering going against Tony’s word. There wasn’t exactly a power imbalance in their relationship, but usually Peter did listen to Tony, and thus far, they’d managed to always settle an agreement. 

Finally, Tony lifted his gaze from the screen of the phone. He turned to look at Peter shaking his head. “Peter if you do that, I will never forgive you. You’re not getting it”, he said firmly. “That shits permanent, I would know, I do it for a living.”

Tony half expected Peter to continue to argue, maybe beg, or storm off angrily. He didn’t seem upset, at least not until Tony’s last words. As soon as they left his mouth, it was like something inside of Peter had snapped. He recoiled, bringing the phone to his chest and clutching his heart like he was in great pain.His angry expression dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed. He was hurt. No, he looked more than hurt, he looked broken. And Tony wanted it to go away. 

He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. But he needed to fix it. He couldn’t have his baby that upset. Especially over him. 

“Baby, whatever you think I said I didn’t mean it..”, he tried to soothe, yet Peter’s bottom lip was quivering and tears were forming in his eyes. 

“Oh so you didn’t mean just to tell me our love means nothing to you”, he spoke. His voice cracked, wavering with the sudden burst of intense emotion. 

“What?” Tony asked, panicking as he shook his head and reached out to touch him. But Peter was much too fast, standing before Tony could come anywhere near him. “Baby..”, Tony sighed, “Baby I didn’t say that at all”, he whispered.

“No, Tony, you did. That shits permanent huh? Yeah, you’re right, that’s exactly why I want it. Because I thought we would be too. Isn’t that what you always promise me? Me and you, forever. Then why won’t you let me get something to symbolise that. Are you gonna break up with me? Is that it?”, he was shouting now, tears streaming down his red face, all worked up from his rant.

“Peter you know that isn’t what I meant. I’m not going to break up with you. I want to be with you forever, I promise. I just don’t want you to regret it…”, he winced as soon as the words left his mouth, realising he was only making things a lot worse. 

Peter let out a cry before turning on his heel and walking to the bedroom. Tony was up and after him of course but as he reached the door, a pillow was thrown to his chest and the door slammed in his face. He looked down at the Pillow and let out a small groan. Guess it was the couch tonight.

~

It had been a week, and Peter still wasn’t talking to Tony. The good thing - he hadn’t packed his bags and left. Tony was only hoping this was over soon because he didn’t think his back was going to survive the couch any longer. Well there was that and the fact that his baby was mad at him and he of course didn’t like that.

He’s just gotten done with a client,in the store, it had been a quiet day. With no appointments for now he’d sent Bucky on his lunch break. He sat at his chair behind the counter, letting out a deep breath to try and feel a bit more alive. 

As the door opened, a small gust filled the room causing Tony to look up. He raised an eyebrow as he watched a forlorn looking Peter come trudging in. He was on his feet within an instant “Baby are you okay?”

Peter sniffled quietly, moving his hand to wipe at his eyes, and as Tony walked around the counter he noticed the tracks of tears on his pink cheeks. He opened up his arms and within seconds Peter had sunk into them, the first time in a week they’d had any sort of contact apart from minor conversations within the apartment. “Peter what’s wrong? Did someone hurt you”, he repeated, more urgently this time already plotting all the ways he could get away with murder.

“I just tried to get some groceries Tony…”, Peter said softly, causing Tony to look down at him confused, nodding his head as if coaxing him to continue. “Your card got declined…”

With those four words, Tony tensed up. His arms grew loose around Peter, despite how hard the boy struggled to hold on in an attempt to ground Tony and not have him lose his mind. But it was too late. He gently pushed Peter away, moving to sit back in his chair, his head in his hands. It was quite for a long while, too long of a while. Quiet until Peter slowly approached, taking Tony’s hands and moving them so that he could crawl into his lap, facing him.

“It’s okay Tony, we’ll figure it out. I’ll get my dad..”

“Your dad hates me. I don’t think he’ll be willing to send me money because I can’t do enough to fucking support us”, Tony spat bitterly. 

Peter sighed pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips to try and calm him down. “We’ll work through it. We always have done. I’m starting at that florist around the corner next week, remember?”

Of course Tony remembered. Peter had never worked a job in his twenty one years of living. Tony knew that from the start. But Peter wasn’t a spoiled brat. He was just used to living a soft, cushy life. If he fell, there would also be pillows underneath him to break his fall. All until he met Tony. 

They’d kept it a secret for a while - Peter sneaking out to see him and whatnot. But his parents were bound to find out eventually. And when they did, the ambitious and wealthy Parker’s were not happy that their only son was dating a ‘punk street rat’ as they so lovingly put it. It was either Peter broke up with him, or cut off his ties to his family. So of course Tony retaliated by gifting Peter a promise ring and the rich pretty boy’s life changed forever. His credit card was shut off, his phone bill shut off, everything Peter was used to, was gone. The only things he had left were the clothes on his back, and his actual phone. The newest at the time, but now, it was the oldest phone Peter had ever had. And it would only get older. He moved into Tony’s cramped apartment, but even now, some of the clothes he owned were still folded in his suitcase because they wouldn’t fit in Tony’s small wardrobe. He promised he’d get Peter his own, he never managed to get enough funds. In an attempt to give Peter what he was used to, he had to change a lot about the way he lived. He told Peter not to get a job - he didn’t have to help, that was Tony’s job; he paid his phone bill for him (at the expense of Tony’s own phone, which he ended up selling); he would never let the food get low like he used to, even though it meant he was spending more on it, and he’d make sure his bills were always paid on time. Before Peter, he didn’t care if he had to shower in cold water, but he never wanted his baby to take anything but a hot steamy shower; he didn’t care if he was threatened at being thrown on the streets for not paying his rent, but he would never drag Peter into something like that.

The point is, Tony never wanted anything but the best for Peter, and so he worked with what he had. But now, he’d failed. And he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. 

“Baby with all due respect, I don’t think your little florist job is going to do much. I have to pay  bills in two weeks, rent in three, and.. Fuck.. I was meant to give Bucky his pay tomorrow!”

Peter bit down on his lip. Tony never usually let him in on the financial side of things, he didn’t like to let Peter see how hard it was to make ends meet. So, Peter was a bit at a loss with all of these things.

“I can sell some of my clothes-”, he began, but was cut off by the glare from Tony making him go quiet instantly. 

“I’m not making you do that”, Tony said, he was firm, his voice wavering with slight aggression. But Peter didn’t blame him, Tony was scared, it was so clear to see in his eyes. “Peter I need you to go back to your parents and tell them that we broke up. Just say that they were right, and..”, he began to raise his voice to speak over Peter’s sounds of indignation “I know it will hurt your dignity, but for the sake of you not having to struggle through me being incredibly broke, I need you to go back.”

“It’s not my dignity Tony-”

“Peter I’m still in debt from fucking opening this place!”

“Shut up and let me finish! It’s not my dignity I’m worried about, It’s you. You’re supposed to be the one I marry. Your struggles are my struggles whether you like it or not. I’ll live on the streets if i have to, as long as it’s with you. I can go days without eating, so if it’s food you’re worried about, we’ll buy what we can and you can eat it all. If we have to leave the apartment then MJ and Ned will help us get back on our feets. And I know Bucky and his boyfriend Steve would too. If not your friends, I know you have them Tony.”

He was off his lap at this point, pacing, the desperation rich in his tone trying to get Tony to see that he wasn’t leaving him.

“Why do you want to stay with a poor fucker like me?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU TONY”, Peter finally burst, turning around to shout at him, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. “Because I love you”, he repeated, quieter this time and softer.

 “Don’t you love me?” he asked quietly. He seemed almost scared to hear the answer.

Yet he didn’t have to. Because Tony’s eyes flashed with guilt and Peter gasped, a sharp pain shooting through his chest as he fell forward against the counter no longer able to hold his body up himself.

“I knew it..”, he muttered quietly, refusing to look Tony in the eyes as his own filled with tears. “This is why you wouldn’t let me get the tattoo.”

Tony felt like the worst man in the world. Of course he loved Peter, but he couldn’t let him know that otherwise he’d stay and Tony would feel so much worse knowing he was putting Peter through hell. But at the mention of the tattoo he scoffed. 

“Are you really going to bring that up at a time like this”, he snapped, standing from his chair and shaking his head. 

“Well I guess it just confirms what I said all along. You don’t love me half as much as I love you, and forever was always just a lie..”, although Peter’s bitterness was evident, so was his pain. And as he turned around to leave through the door Tony knew deep down he couldn’t leave it like this. 

“No Peter, that’s where you’re wrong”, Tony said his hands clenched into fists as he turned around to face the smaller male. He was met with Peter’s back, but he’d froze. His hope was always there, hope that Tony did actually love him.

 “Look down at your hand and the ring on your finger. It was a cheap ring, it was all I could afford at the time, it’s pretty funny how I can afford even less now. It’s discoloured, It’s not the right size for your finger, but I tried my best”, he waited as Peter did so, “I gave you that as a promise that I would spend the rest of my life with you as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. If you continue to try and make ends meet with me, you will be none of those things.”

“You don’t know that..”

“I do Peter. Because even if I somehow manage to get out of this debt, and we go back to the way we were before, You still deserve better. I haven’t taken you on a date since those first few months, I haven’t got you gifts either. That ring was the last thing I ever got you. Do you know how disgusting that makes me as a man?”

Peter spun around at that, his expression hardened, clearly wanting to disagree, but Tony didn’t let him.

“I never wanted you to get the tattoo because I was set on changing our lives. I thought I was getting somewhere, but obviously I miscalculated. I wanted to give you the life you were used to, A tattoo would only be a reminder of where you started out with me. Poor, struggling, overall just living a pretty shitty life. I figured when i’d turned our lives around you wouldn’t want that reminder of how it used to be”, he said quietly, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly. 

“That’s the reason I also want you to go. Not because I don’t love you, but because I love you too much to see you suffer anymore.”

Peter let out a soft whimper, looking down to his feet. 

“I’m not suffering Tony, no matter what you might think. I’m not. Sure, it was hard for me to adjust into a lifestyle I’m not used to. But never once in our two years of being together have I ever complained.”

“I just want to give you the best.”

“You already do Tony. We could be living in a homeless shelter and I still wouldn’t complain as long as I’m with you..”

Both of them fell silent. It seemed a long time before the room saw any movement. But eventually Tony opened his arms and Peter scurried into them. They stayed there for a while. Just with each other, trying not to think of what was going on around them, and just focusing on their love. Because they needed each other. And maybe Tony was finally starting to see that.

~

“Being woken up like this never gets old..”

Tony’s husky morning voice filled the room as Peter giggled and cuddled against his side. He’d just gotten done with his mandatory morning hickey attack on Tony’s neck, and of course his lover wasn’t complaining.

“I have to remind all your employees that you’re taken”, Peter whispered softly against his ear, his hand rubbing Tony’s chest appreciatively of the man’s body. “Especially that new secretary you have, Poppy was her name or something.. I don’t like her, I see the way she’s eyeballing you”, Peter pouted, causing Tony to chuckle and press a kiss to Peter’s pouty lips. 

“It’s Pepper love, and I wouldn’t worry. I’m pretty sure she, and all of my employees remember the sinful sounds you were making as you decided to ride me on my desk with the door wide open to display the fact that I am actually owned”, Tony reminded, a fond smile on his face at the memory. It definitely set the tone for what kind of boss Tony was.

“Well I got my point across didn’t I? You’re loved nationally and internationally, I don’t wnat no one touching on my man” Peter huffed, causing Tony to chuckle and nod his head.

“Yes, yes baby, you definitely did.. So much so that I think we should repeat it right now”, he hummed softly, pulling Peter on top of his body causing the younger male to roll his eyes. 

“You’re going to be late for work Tony. You can’t keep Stark industries waiting!!”

“I own it you silly”, was the reply, but Tony was far too concentrated on pressing kisses over Peter’s skin to really give it much thought, His tongue slipping under the waistband of Peter’s lace panties, emitting a soft moan from the boy. Sex back in their old apartment was mind blowing, but sex in their large mansion, on their silk sheets, just added a bit more to it if you asked him. Tony swore he’d tore this pair of underwear off the boy last night, but then again, Peter had so many sets of lingerie, Tony swore he was seeing new ones every day. 

As Peter shuffled down between Tony’s legs to take the older male’s morning wood into his mouth he smiled up at him. Ever since Tony managed to set up Stark industries, and gave the tattoo shop to Bucky (of course giving him some starting funds too, not wanting him and Steve to have to go through what he and Peter did), Tony had been so much happier. Of course that was to be expected, he was stressed, but this was a better type of stress. No one was worrying about where the money was going, if they could pay bills next month. It had been a long road, with a hell of a lot of speed bumps and potholes, but they’d finally made it. 

“Do you think we can go out to dinner later, just me and you? That nice restaurant you took me to when you proposed. I know it’s expensive, but it’s about time we had a date!”

Tony laughed softly, nodding his head. His fingertips running down Peter’s back and over his sides affectionately. They brushed over Peter’s tattoo, the one Tony ended up getting too, in the same place as Peter, on his side, as he hummed softly. “Of course baby”, he said softly, deliberately missing out the fact that they literally went on a restaurant date a couple of days ago. 

“Now stop stalling, your little ass is tight and my cock isn’t going to lube itself”, he demanded, watching as Peter rolled his eyes and spat on his erect shaft, Tony running his fingers through his hair.

Because after all, who was he to deny his baby of his desires; especially now that he could, and he would, give him the world.