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thepenultimateword · 2 years

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Sweet Dreams

Part One Part Two

'Next time' arose quicker than Henchman expected.

Ever since the, er, 'cuddling incident', they'd been very deliberate to reserve places with plenty of separate sleeping space. Even today, they'd had a perfect setup reserved in Lenfirn, the city several hours away that was to be tonight's rest stop, an AirBnB with completely separate bedrooms. That way Henchman wouldn't have Villain's restless sleep waking them up in the middle of the night, eating away at them, luring them anxiously to their side--they never knew they could worry for someone so much. And it all would have worked out if those persistent heroic nuisances didn't start a patrol right within the next city, essentially barricading them from their final destination. News had it they were even roving the highway.

Could the heroes have found out which type of car they were driving? Should they switch vehicles? Without any answers to those questions, the best thing they could think to do was to get off the road. Thus the last-minute reservation in this dingy 2-star hotel near the city center.

The two of them now stood in the hotel's humid hallway, the air smelling much too strongly of lemon carpet cleaner, as Henchman fished the keycard out of its envelope.

Villain had their hand ready on the door handle, a sly grin creeping up their jaw as they slowly suspected what Henchman already knew. Henchman pressed the card to the panel and as the lock beeped and flashed green, Villain caught Henchman's eyes.

“Let’s see what we have behind door B25," they announced dramatically, like the host in a game show getting ready to reveal the prize. It really had become an almost sort of game between them over the last week and a half, Henchman's vague descriptions of rooms, Villain always swinging the door open with a flourish at each stop. They never showed it for long, but the criminal always seemed slightly disappointed each time they found two beds. Henchman wasn’t exactly sure how to take that.

This time Villain gave the door a hefty shove, leaving their palm spread in the air as the heavy piece of oak slammed into the doorstop.

“Ah ha!” they cried, bounding over to the Queen bed and its ugly yellow bedspread in the center of the room. "What an unprecedented predicament. I suppose we'll have to talk out some sort of sleeping arrangement."

Henchman held in a chuckle as they followed close behind with the duffel bags. They'd never seen Villain giddy before. Of course, it was all tinged with the usual predatory tone, but excitement looked almost...cute on them. Not that that was changing their mind.

“I can take the floor," they said firmly.

Villain frowned. “Why? It’s a perfectly big bed with space for both of us.”

Henchman's heart thunked too fast in their chest, but they'd prepared for this on the way over. All they had to do was give one of the many excuses they'd come up with.

"I don't think it's appropriate given our professional dynamic. Boss, employee. It's a mess waiting to happen."

"We're only sleeping."

"Yes, but still..."

Villain cocked their head, eyes drinking them in bit by bit as they waited for a better explanation of what Henchman had believed to be a pretty airtight excuse.

"People might...think things. Spread rumors..." Just saying it made their ears burn; they hoped that heat wasn't accompanied by color.

Villain rose one brow, "Are you going to tell anyone?"

It almost sounded like a warning, and Henchman shrank between their shoulders.

"W-well...no."

"Neither am I."

"Ah."

Henchman wrung their hands together, rubbing their thumb over the tight, pale skin of their first knuckle as they tried to ignore the sting of that statement as well as remember another reason to stay at an arm's length.

"If sleeping next to me makes you uncomfortable you can say so," Villain said. "I already told you I wouldn't force anything unwanted."

That should have been their out. It was perfect. Pre-packaged by Villain and not even required to say it themselves. They just had to nod and move on. But for some reason they found themselves spluttering an awkward, "N-no!"

The problem wasn't that Henchman didn't want to; it was that they wanted it too much. It was like a flip switched inside them that night, turning distant admiration into odd electric feelings. They could hold it off for now, but being that close to Villain again might just do them in. And that was not a stew Henchman wanted to be mixed up in. Even if Villain wasn't disgusted, they still weren't the type of person Henchman should get too close to. Like Villain said, they were a spider, Henchman was a bug allowed to live.

"What's the problem then?" Villain said.

I might like you, Henchman answered internally, but aloud they only said, "I...well... It's just that..."

They couldn't think of anything. They were a snorer, they moved around a lot in their sleep, they hogged the covers: none of it was going to be enough. Only the truth might do it, and they just couldn't...

"No problem," they finally said. "We can share."

Villain narrowed their eyes. "You know, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” Henchman's heartbeat felt like it had leaped up into their throat, restricting their responses to two words. Maybe they didn't have to, but wouldn't going back and forth so much only make Villain more curious? By this point they just wanted the interrogation to end before they spilled.

“If it really makes you uncomfortable—“

“It’s fine.”

"Sure?"

"Yep," Henchman said and immediately turned to begin unpacking their bags. They felt Villain's piercing eyes trailing them between the open duffels and the dresser, but they did their best to ignore the thrilling shiver running down their spine.

"Then I'll be going first," Villain said eventually, breaking their intense study to grab a t-shirt and sweats from Henchman's arms. They plucked their toiletry bag out of a side pocket on their way to the bathroom. A few minutes later, Henchman heard the shower running.

They paused their work to rub their palm frustratedly into their forehead with a deep sigh.

They really hoped they didn't end up mortifyingly embarrassed. Or dead.

***

Henchman hovered nervously by the edge of the bed, the air conditioning wafting up one leg of their wafer-thin pajama shorts and sending a little tremble through their entire body that rocked them up onto the tips of their toes. They wished it was a little darker in here.

"Sleeping on the floor after all?" Villain said, as much a provocation as it was a real offer. They were already tucked under the covers, looking way too casual for an overlord of a criminal empire to ever appear. Yes, they'd been traveling together for over a month now, but Henchman had always been careful to train their eyes on something else while Villain was getting ready for bed. They then turned the lights off as quickly as possible. The alterior domestic familiarity was much too awkward.

"N-no," Henchman said and quickly slid under the mustard blanket's thick fabric. The bed wasn't quite so comfortable as the first one, but they had to admit it was better than the scruffy carpet on the floor. That stuff was bound to give them a rash for how soaked it was in cleaner, scent maskers, and who knew what else.

"You can get closer," Villain said, smirk clear in their voice. "I won't bite."

Henchman scooted away from the mattress seam and a little closer to the center. They were a pillow's space away from each other, but Henchman could almost feel the warmth of Villain's shoulder across the gap.

They fixed their gaze on their ceiling, ignoring Villain's watchful eyes and the terrifying urge to turn over on their side and face them head-on. A police siren wailed down the street outside the window, painting the curtains red and blue. Henchman's hands fisted the blankets.

"What's on your mind?" The sheets rustled as Villain shifted, and that gap got just a little bit smaller.

"They've never gotten this close before," Henchman murmured. "All this time we've been a few steps ahead. How are we going to get out of the city tomorrow?"

Villain stretched their long limbs. "We won't. Not with the whole group in one place. Guess we're stuck here."

"For how long?" Henchman squeaked.

"Villain shrugged. "Until the heroes come up fruitless and move on."

Henchman didn't know how Villain could sound so calm about this. There were heroes out on the streets looking for them right now, and if they found them... Well, they'd overheard enough of Villain's night terrors to know it wouldn't be pretty.

Not to mention the bed situation.

Maybe their trembling was traveling through the bed because Villain's hand suddenly grasped around their neck, forcing Henchman's eyes toward their own. They'd gotten a little closer in the meantime too.

"Are you afraid of heroes?"

Henchman shook their head stiffly. "Not of fighting them. That's why I'm here. But being hunted down...yes."

"Anticipation," Villain acknowledged slowly, "is a terrible disease. It sets the mind to panic and the stomach to sickness. Ignore it the best you can. Or you'll spoil your meals."

They sounded confident enough, but all Henchman could think about was that such advice had to come from somewhere. Villain had suffered, still suffered, at the hands of self-proclaimed peacemakers. The question slipped out before they could stop themself.

"Are...you...afraid of heroes?"

Villain's grip on their neck tightened enough to make Henchman gasp. It was a loud exhale mixed with a short yelp, and it immediately caused Villain to drop their arm around the back of their shoulders instead. They looked down directly into Henchman's eyes, that original gap basically nonexistent now.

"A rat doesn't run from what it's not afraid of."

It was vague on purpose, but yes. It was a yes. Henchman searched Villain's gaze for a hint of that fear, but all that stared back was blank glass and their own startled reflection.

Villain leaned in to Henchman's ear. "Turn off the lights."

Henchman jolted, quickly tearing out of Villain's hold and fumbling for the lamp knob. When they leaned back into their spot, Villain had retreated back onto their own side.

Henchman stared at their back, counting the rumples in their t-shirt, itching to pinch a fold between their fingers, as if it might be able to give them the same comfort they had a week ago. The protective air wasn't quite as strong when they weren't in Villain's arms, but at least their presence still radiated the bed's radius with some security.

After a few minutes, they flipped the other direction as well.

Space. Right. It's what they'd wanted.

Eyes squeezed shut, they snatched onto the first wave of sleep to wash over them and let it drag them down into peaceful darkness. Vllain's sleep must have been well too because Henchman didn't awake until late morning when they found themselves cuddled up at Villain's side once again. Though it was a little...different this time.

Henchman blinked at the fabric several times, nose buried inch-deep in its musky softness, before they realized where they were: wrapped around Villain's waist, forehead pressed firmly between their shoulder blades.

They moved to jerk away, but Villain immediately flipped around and caught them up in their arms. How long had they been awake?!

Villain's face paused just above them, eyes gleaming.

Henchman froze. Even their breathing stopped. It was like that gaze had them pinned down to the spot while their wolfish smile skinned them down to their core. When they found it--the terror, the intrigue, the attraction--their grin grew even wider.

"Good morning, my dreamcatcher."

This is sort of a mess, but I really felt like writing it sooo...😅

Part Four

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstonee @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckless @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps

#villain x villain #villain x henchman #writing snippet #heroes and villains #hero x villain #creative writing #villain #heroes and villains community #villain x hero #superheroes and villains #one bed trope #one bed

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baeddel · 8 months

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@elancholia ty for your reply i always like them ^/////^ i will try and respond better to your whole post another time. obviously the conversation has evolved into more of a larger discussion about plagiarism & intertextuality in general, but i wanted to point out something w/r/t what i was originally asking. when you say:

The specificity of citations means that each claim is easy (for a specialist) to find and address; the points of dispute are very clear. And it's possible to pick out anomalous patterns, like century-spanning claims being sourced from one very specific document, or a consistent overreliance on "problematic sources" which are known to have been "heavily edited and sanitized" at the time they were originally compiled.

you understand that this is again not the kind of knowledge that i'm talking about in that post. if i learned how to make an argument (in this example, a 'dialectical' argument) from a really problematic and flawed book, it wouldn't really help you at all in evaluating my argument—my entire argument is transparent to you as soon as you read it, and if you tried to attack (using my example) my post based on a criticism of Clausewitz it would just be irrelevant, because i'm not actually saying anything he said.

i realize that i muddied the waters in my wording by at the end saying "in philosophy or non-fiction" in general, but my surprise was about this kind of thing, not about claims. w/r/t the kind of citation in the quote i don't feel confused about it, i try to cite my posts as much as possible for several reasons, both practical and ethical (one tumblr specific reason is that it helps to avoid establishing onesself as a kind of priestly authority with access to secret knowledge & instead invites the reader into your context so they can argue with you as an equal—since a lot of people who read your post may not know how to access the information otherwise, a concern which arises strictly in a non-academic situation).

you get where i'm coming from right—i have textbooks that are supposed to show how to make a kind of argument, which forms are valid, etc. they're aimed at training you to argue in a certain way and they don't expect you to cite them or even really remember them. why does it change when you learn how to argue that way from another kind of text?

when i went to read some of the literature on plagiarism i was similarly surprised to find other things which are considered plagiarism at least by some definitions. in one study that looked at Iranian Applied Linguistics researchers' views of plagiarism & intertextuality (click), the questionnaire included the following questions:

Creating a new piece of work structured according to a documentation standard, by referring to existing work of the same type.

and

Using a published work to identify important secondary citations that make a particular logical argument and then citing only those secondary sources to support your own use of the same logical argument.

the first one (copying the structure of another article) was considered plagiarism by 68% of respondents (15% said it wasn't and 17% said they didn't know). it surprised me a lot to learn that anyone would consider that plagiarism. the second one (copying an argument and just borrowing the citations necessary without saying where you learned the argument) is quite close to what i was talking about, and the responses were: 32% yes plagiarism, 57% no plagiarism, 11% don't know.

my takeaway is that there is not a lot of certainty about what counts as plagiarism on offer & i'm probably not the first person to experience this kind of surprise, confusion or skepticism about it.

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harleybeaumont · 1 year

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Maxwell's Jolly Holiday Pt. 2

Book - The Royal Romance AU

Pairings -Liam x Maxwell

Synopsis- This story gives a glimpse into Maxwell’s high school days at an all boys school where he joins the drama club and performs in his first play. This is set as a prequel to my fic, Unintentional, but can definitely be read as a standalone fic too! This ‘one shot’ has taken on a life of its own and will probably end up being 3 parts.

Warnings- swearing, some crude language, a few homophobic comments from bullies

Word count- 4,150

Catch up here.

Part 2 - Like Somethin’ is Brewin’, About to Begin

The following week was exhausting and exciting as Maxwell began rehearsal and studying his lines. He had made several new friends and actually had someone to sit with at lunch time. But all too soon it was time for his usual Sunday afternoon phone call/scolding from Bertrand. He had learned how to tune Bertrand out and just respond based on the tone of voice he was currently using. He lay on his bed, reading over his lines while Bertrand was using his ‘disappointed voice’. Max had completely checked out, robotically responding with “you’re right” and “I’ll try to work on that.”

After a while, Bertrand cleared his throat, “are you even listening to me?!”

“Hmm?” Max snapped back to attention, “I mean, yes, of course.”

“What was I saying?”

Max thought for a minute and stretched out on the bed, “you were talking about.. my grades?”

“Wrong.”

“Myyyyy stunning good looks?”

“No.”

“Um… wait I remember! You were saying that the Duke of Karlington used his dessert spoon instead of his soup spoon?”

Bertrand stammered, “W-what sort of oddly specific blather is that?! And there is no way that a Duke would confuse a soup spoon with a dessert spoon! They aren't even beside one another on the place setting for goodness sake!!”

Max couldn’t help but chuckle, “Sorry, it just seemed like something you’d say.”

“Get serious. I didn’t send you to the most elite finishing school in Europe so you could fool around. I sent you so that you could grow up and learn to make something of yourself.”

“Ya right..” Max said under his breath.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You sent me because you wanted to get rid of me.”

Bertrand heaved a long sigh, “not this again.”

“Everybody knows it! Why else would you send me to an all boys boarding school hours away from home? I was going to a perfectly good school in Ramsford and had decent grades and a ton of friends!”

Bertrand raised his voice, “To get you a proper education with no distractions!”

Maxwell sat up on the bed, gripping the phone tighter. “Distractions? What, like my friends?! You thought I’d fit in better with the snobs at this place?!”

Bertrand sighed again and Max could tell he was pinching the bridge of his nose the way their father always did when he was annoyed with him. “Maxwell, don't be ridiculous! I sent you to an all boys school because you are of a.. certain age, and being around females is distracting! Soon you’ll be driving and taking women out on dates. I don’t want your budding hormones getting in the way of your education.”

Maxwell burst into laughter, “well you’re a few years too late on that one Bert.”

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Maybe you should've had this conversation with me when I was like.. twelve. I’m sixteen now, bro. The hormones have been running rampant for a while!” Max wiped a tear away as he continued to laugh, “And not to burst your bubble, but sending me to an all boys school was about the worst thing you could have done if you didn’t want me distracted!”

Bertrand was flabbergasted on the other line, “What are you saying? I don’t understand.”

“Are you really serious right now?”

“Maxwell, you know I hate when you do this. Just spit it out!”

Maxwell shook his head, “I’m gay, you idiot!”

Bertrand remained silent for a moment and scoffed, “Stop being foolish. This is not amusing.”

“Wow, thanks a lot for your support. I just came out to my brother and he calls me a fool. Good talk, Bertrand. Bye.”

“Wait! Wait!” Bertrand interrupted. “Why are you saying this? Are you trying to upset me?”

“I’m trying to point out what I thought had been painfully obvious for the past few years. I. Am. Gay.”

Bertrand once again went silent on the other line. So long so, that Maxwell thought he hung up. “Are you being serious, Maxwell? How can you be sure?”

Max ran a hand down his face and lay back on his pillows, “I don’t know how to tell you this any more clearly. I like boys. I am attracted to boys. I am not attracted to girls. Seriously, how did you not know this?”

“Well.. you’re still young. Maybe you just haven’t met the right girl yet. Maybe you’re just confused.”

“Don’t. Just.. no. Don’t do that.” The brothers remained silent for a long time until Max spoke up again. “I get it if you need some time to process or whatever, but I have to go.”

“Right. Uh, I’ll let you get back to studying,” Bertrand said quietly.

Feeling like he had nothing to lose at this point Max said, “Oh I’m not studying. I’m reading my lines. I auditioned for the school play, and I actually got one of the lead roles.”

“The school play? How will you have time to do your actual studies if you’re playing around on stage?!”

Max felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t sure why he assumed Bertrand would be proud of him. It’s not like Bertrand was ever proud of Max, but it still stung just the same. “Oh you didn’t know?! That’s just something that us gays do! Ya, once you come out, you have to audition for a school play. Bonus points if you get to kiss a guy on stage!”

“Maxwell..” Bertrand sighed.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and even though he wanted to cry, he forced his words out. “No! I’m done talking to you! I don’t know why I ever assumed that you would approve of anything I do! Even when you’re not here to scold me on a daily basis, you still make me feel like shit!”

Maxwell hung up the phone and tossed it across the room. Putting his pillow over his face, he cried until he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

____________________________________________

Over the next few weeks, Max ignored any and all phone calls and texts from Bertrand, instead focusing completely on the play. He was amazed at how naturally it all came to him. He always knew he was good at dancing, but acting was like a hidden gem deep inside of him that had been unearthed. He loved it.

While in the lunchroom one day, Max, Eddie, and the other theater kids were talking animatedly about the upcoming play.

“So a couple of the chicks from the girls' school are coming to the next rehearsal," Eddie said, smacking on a carrot stick. “It’ll be like the real deal having everyone together on stage.”

“Oh that's great!” Max smiled. “I hope they’re nice.”

Just then, his phone vibrated repeatedly. He snuck it out of the pocket of his uniform pants and checked it under the table. Liam. It wasn’t like him to call in the middle of a school day. Hopefully nothing was wrong. Max leaned forward to answer the call as discreetly as possible.

“Liam?”

“Hey Max!”

“What’s going on? Did something happen?!”

Liam chuckled, “Nothing’s wrong! Sorry if I worried you! I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Whew! Not gonna lie, I thought someone had died!!” Maxwell felt like he could finally breathe again. “So what’s up?” Maxwell felt a tap on his shoulder and when he spun around, his jaw dropped. “OMG! What are you doing here!?”

“Surprise!” Liam was standing before him with two palace guards on either side, scanning the room.

Maxwell jumped up and threw his arms around his best friend, holding him tightly. “It’s so good to see you!”

By that time, everyone in the cafeteria was turned to see Maxwell Beaumont hugging the Prince of their nation. Liam and Maxwell, however, only seemed to notice each other. Max grinned, looking him up and down. Liam seemed like he had gotten taller since the last time he saw him a few months ago, and his hair was longer and a little shaggier. He looked good. Really good. Max felt the butterflies return to his stomach in full force.

Liam grinned, “So I may have pulled some strings and gotten you relieved from your classes for the rest of the day.”

“Score!” Max beamed and pulled Liam down next to him at their table. He introduced Liam to his theater friends who were flabbergasted that the prince was actually talking to them. Eddie asked, “Why didn’t you tell us you’re friends with Prince Liam?”

Max shrugged, “It never came up!”

Eddie laughed, “Well damn.. I guess that’s true. You friends with any other nobles? The Queen of England perhaps?”

Max thought for a moment. “Well my brother is the Duke of Ramsford and I’m kind of acquainted with the Duchess of Lythikos, although she may or may not hate me-”

“Hold it, hold it..” Eddie froze. “Your brother is a Duke? So you’re noble too?!”

Max shrugged and the rest of the theater group gawked at him. Suddenly everyone around them was whispering and lobbing questions at the younger Beaumont. “Why didn’t you tell us? Are you rich? Are you gonna be a Duke one day? How big is your duchy? Do you have an arranged marriage?”

“Whoa guys, chill!” Max held up his hands attempting to calm everyone down.

The next statement he heard made him sick to his stomach. “So that’s why he got the lead role.”

Maxwell turned around to see Jason, one of the boys who had teased him before his audition weeks ago. His mouth fell open, but he couldn’t make a sound.

Eddie stood up and rolled his eyes. “Jason, fuck off.”

Jason got closer and stared down at Eddie who was about a foot shorter than him. “You wanna make me, nerd?”

Liam jumped up and held his hands in front of him, “Ok everyone, let's calm down.” His guards were mere inches away, ready to intervene if needed. “If there’s an issue here why don’t we try to solve it calmly?”

Jason scoffed, “Your Highness, I was simply pointing out that Beaumont clearly only got the lead role because he’s a Lord and best friends with you.” He rolled his eyes, “Do you know how many of us were there to audition? It’s not fair that we didn’t get an equal chance just because we're not noble.”

Eddie scowled at him, “You weren’t there to audition! You just wanted to hook up with the lead actress! And no one even knew Max was a noble then!”

“I'm sure the teachers did!” Jason said, “I think we should all get to audition again.”

“You don’t give a shit about this play!” Eddie raised his voice, “Stop being an asshole, just to be an asshole!”

“We’ll see what the parents think about this blatant favoritism the faculty is showing Beaumont. I know mine won’t be happy. They’ve donated lots of money to this school and how are they being repaid?”

Maxwell had reached his boiling point by then. He stood up and said, “Fine! If you want to audition, talk to Mr. Eldore, but there is no way you’ll get the part. You can't even remember to zip up your fly, much less memorize an entire script!”

Jason looked down at his open pants zipper and the theater group burst into laughter. He quickly zipped his pants and stormed away, still fuming.

“That was fucking hilarious, man!” Eddie clapped Maxwell on the back.

Maxwell felt a swell of pride. He wasn’t sure if that was the last he was going to hear about the whole Jason incident, but he shut him up and it felt great.

“Now that that’s been taken care of..” Liam grinned ear to ear. “..I would love it if Max could show me around. I’ve never even been to school before. All I have are private tutors.”

“Yes!” Maxwell took Liam’s hand and enthusiastically started leading him away.

Liam chuckled and waved behind him to the theater group, “It was nice meeting all of you!”

______________________________________________________________

Maxwell led Liam through the halls of his school, trying to ignore the whispers and stares of the other students who gawked at the Prince. He showed him his fencing club practice area, the stables where his horse resided, and a few of his classrooms. But Maxwell was most excited about showing Liam the theater. He pushed open the double doors and led him inside with a grin. “This is where the play is gonna be. We practice here every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday.”

Liam looked around the grand auditorium in wonder. “Too bad you aren’t practicing today. I’d love to see you up on stage.”

Max chuckled and actually felt himself blushing. “Really?”

“Duh!” Liam laughed and sat down in a front row seat. “Hey, why don’t you give me a little preview?”

“Now?!” Maxwell stepped back. “But there’s no music or any other people on stage or anything!”

“I'll go up with you!” Liam raced up the stairs and onto the stage. “Wow, it’s so big up here.. And open! I’d be terrified to be up here reciting lines in front of all those people.”

Maxwell climbed the steps and stood beside him, looking out at the hundreds of empty seats. “Well thanks for putting a new fear in my head!”

Liam grimaced, “Sorry.”

Maxwell burst out laughing and nudged his friend. “I’m joking. I don’t know why, but I actually love it. Weird, huh?”

They stood beside each other, taking in the beauty of the theater and Liam smiled, looking out ahead. “No. It’s not weird. Not for someone like you.”

Max was taken aback. Someone like him? “What do you mean?”

“I mean.. You’re just this amazing, fearless person. You’re so optimistic and funny and.. I really admire you.”

Max turned to Liam, who was still staring ahead. His cheeks held a faint blush that made Maxwell's stomach flutter. “Wow. That’s the nicest thing anyone has probably ever said to me.”

Liam looked at him with a tender expression he had never seen before. “Well I mean it. Every word.”

Maxwell stepped closer. It was as if each of them were connected by a magnetic pull and fighting the attraction was futile. Liam’s chest was nearly touching his by now and Max swallowed hard. He felt his breath start to come quickly but the warm touch of Liam’s hand on his cheek stopped his heart completely. Liam leaned in until his forehead was touching Max’s and he tenderly stroked his jaw. “Max.. I.. I-”

A boom from the entrance to the auditorium caused them to split apart quickly. The doors had been thrown open and Mr. Eldore strode in wearing a grin. “My word, it’s true! Your Highness, I am thrilled to have you in our humble theater!”

Liam’s posture immediately changed back to the one Max had seen thousands of times before. He was in prince mode. “The pleasure is all mine. This theater is beautiful, and the architecture is just stunning..”

While Liam and Mr. Eldore were talking, Maxwell’s mind was racing a mile a minute. Liam had almost kissed him. Liam had almost kissed him. Liam had almost kissed him! That’s what was about to happen, right? He fought the urge to lean over and ask one of Liam’s guards his opinion on the matter. No, that would be too weird. It was already weird enough that they had been right there and seen the whole thing. His palms were sweaty and he attempted to calm his heart rate before any attention was brought to him.

Liam turned to Max with a grin, “I’m actually here visiting my dear friend, Maxwell Beaumont.”

Mr. Eldore looked delighted. “Your friend?! Well, I hope that means you will be attending the play in a couple months! We would be honored to have you in our theater. Of course the entire royal family is invited.”

Liam winked at Maxwell, “It’ll just be me and maybe another one of our mutual friends, but we’ll definitely be there opening night.”

“Well that is fantastic!” Mr. Eldore bowed. “Maxwell, you just let me know all the details and I will personally see to it that everything is perfect.”

“Thank you.” Liam smiled cordially as Mr. Eldore left the building and they were once again left alone. Well.. alone plus two guards.

Max shuffled his feet and smiled awkwardly at his friend. “I think I’ve shown you everything now.”

Liam put his hands in his pockets, grinning. “Well you haven’t shown me your bedroom.”

“M-my bedroom?!” Maxwell’s voice cracked like a prepubescent boy. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Right. Ya.. of course. My bedroom!”

“Unless you don’t want to.”

“No! No, I definitely want to take you to my bedroom!” Max felt his face grow hot. “No! I mean.. I mean I can definitely show it to you.. my room, I mean!”

The two of them chuckled awkwardly and Max tried to think of a good lie to cover for his dorkiness. “It’s just a little messy is all. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. Your room is always messy, Beaumont! Has that ever stopped me before?” Liam teased and the boys laughed sincerely, thankful that some of the tension had cleared.

Once they reached Maxwell's door, Liam turned to his guards. “Can you just stay outside?”

They looked at each other skeptically. Sam, the most senior guard, responded. “Sir, no disrespect, but you are a seventeen year old boy. Your father has charged me with looking after your wellbeing. I cannot in good conscience let you go into Lord Beaumont’s bedroom without supervision.”

Liam flushed, “Oh my God, what do you think is going to happen in there?!”

The guards glanced at each other and Sam cleared his throat. “I.. uh..”

“Just do a sweep and let me have some time alone to catch up with my friend.” Liam looked at Sam pleadingly. “Please?”

After a moment considering, Sam nodded. Once the room had been cleared and the guards left, the boys sat on the bed together. The insinuation from the guards had left them feeling a little uncomfortable. Maxwell tried to break the tension. “Hey.. Why did the student eat his homework?”

Liam quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “Why?”

“Because the teacher told him it was a piece of cake!”

Liam laughed loudly, “That is so bad! And I love it!” Maxwell joined in and soon they were laughing uncontrollably, laying on Maxwell’s bed. Liam rolled over to face him. “You always make me laugh. Remember when you tried to do a roast at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”

Maxwell groaned and covered his face, “First of all it was only 2 years ago, so of course I remember. And second of all, it was the day I was nearly murdered. One doesn’t usually forget that day.”

Liam chuckled, “Everyone was going up to the mic and wishing her happy birthday, then along comes Max with his note cards and just totally demolishes her!”

“Shut up!” Maxwell shoved Liam playfully. “I thought she’d like it!”

“You thought she’d like you asking how she manages to create a hairstyle that covers her horns?”

Maxwell laughed, “Drake liked it!”

2 years ago:

Liam had just taken his turn at the mic in the ballroom of Lythikos, cordially wishing Olivia a happy birthday. Max was seated across from the small stage, not so patiently waiting for his turn. He shuffled the note cards in his hand with a grin. This was going to be great. Olivia was surely tired of all the generic birthday wishes, but HE was going to give her something to remember.

He sauntered on stage and winked at Bertrand, who for some reason looked nervous by the gesture. Little did Bertrand know that Max was about to have everyone in this room rolling with laughter.

Maxwell tapped the microphone and smiled. “Good evening, good evening. Well I’m happy to be here in Lythikos - the land of ice and snow. The only duchy in Cordonia where the temperature outside matches the temperature inside Olivia’s heart.”

Max waited, but was only met by a crowd of shocked faces. Ok, maybe that joke wasn’t the best, but he had more. He cleared his throat and flipped to the next card. “So it’s Olivia’s sixteenth birthday. Tell me, Liv, what's that in people years?”

A loud guffaw from the crowd caught his attention and he saw Drake holding a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he attempted not to laugh. Liam was seated beside Drake, staring at Max wide eyed.

Hey, maybe this was good stuff after all. Drake never laughed but he was loving it! Feeling encouraged, Max flipped to the next card. “So Olivia I love your new hairstyle!” He turned to face her and grinned, “how did you manage to hide the horns?”

Once again the room was met by silence other than the boisterous laughter coming solely from Drake Walker. Surely everyone would get the jokes soon and then the whole room would be full of joy. He glanced over at Olivia and her face was as red as a tomato. Must be from holding in her laughter. He flipped to the next card.

“Liv, there’s a saying that always reminds me of you: ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right.’ Take your parents for example.”

Drake continued to laugh and Bertrand whispered loudly, “Maxwell Percival Beaumont, get down here right now!”

Max leaned away from the mic to speak to his brother, “Don’t worry, the jokes are about to get better!” Max flipped to the next card and cleared his throat, “Speaking of parents.. Olivia’s parents are dead-”

Just then, the mic was ripped out of his hand by his brother. Bertrand forced a chuckle and spoke into the microphone. “Um, best wishes on your sixteenth birthday Lady Olivia. My brother and I are very grateful for the invite to your party but I’m afraid something urgent has come up and we must take our leave. Goodnight everyone.”

Bertrand quickly ushered Maxwell out of the ballroom and down an empty hallway before turning to face him. “ARE YOU INSANE!?”

“What?”

“You used her birthday party to insult her? And you were about to ridicule her dead parents!”

Max shook his head. Of course Bertrand had no idea what comedy was. “It’s not insulting, it’s called a roast! It’s the highest honor you can give someone!”

Bertrand ran a hand down his face, “My God, Maxwell. We have to get out of here.”

“Why?”

Just then, the ballroom doors slammed and the sound of high heels stomping down the hallway grew closer and closer. Olivia rounded the corner, looking like a wild animal, and pointed at Maxwell. “YOU!!!”

“Run, brother!” Bertrand shouted and Max took off as fast as he could. Why was Olivia so angry? Maybe she needed someone to explain what a roast was, but Max wasn’t about to stop running to do so.

Eventually he gave her the slip and crammed himself in a dumbwaiter to hide. A terrifying hour later Olivia gave up hunting him and returned to the party. He and Bertand slipped out and weren’t invited to Lythikos ever again.

“I still don’t think she knows what a roast is!” Max chuckled and shook his head, laying next to Liam.

Liam laughed, “Maxwell Beaumont, you are the only person in the world brave enough or crazy enough to ‘roast’ Olivia Nevrakis.”

The two lay together in contented silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. “When do you have to leave?” Max asked quietly.

Liam sighed, “Soon probably.”

Maxwell felt his heart drop. “Oh.”

Liam checked his watch with a frown. “I have a stupid meeting early tomorrow morning with Leo, my father, and the council. I have to start learning about amending treaties and other bullshit.”

“Well we have at least a few more minutes together.” Max turned over to face Liam and smiled, “Wanna hear some new music?”

Liam smiled, “Sure.”

Maxwell grabbed his phone and scrolled through to his newest favorite album. It wasn’t dance music like he usually favored, but had more of an indie romance vibe. Max closed his eyes, heavily in his feelings about listening to love songs next to Liam. His body was so close, Max could feel the warmth radiating from him and he was trying his best not to get too excited.. In more ways than one.

Suddenly he felt the soft, gentle warmth of Liam’s hand slide into his own. He opened his eyes abruptly and looked at his best friend. It was all he could do not to squeal with joy. The two shared a smile and lay together for the next half hour, hand in hand, enjoying the music and company, until Liam had to return home.

#maxwell's jolly holiday #maxwell beaumont #trr maxwell #trr fanfic #liam x maxwell #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #the royal romance #mary poppins

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blackberry-bloody · 1 year

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Meet my ocs: Mibium

This is going to be a new written "series" that I will be doing for each of my characters.

This is meant more to be silly and give a twist to an "into post" for ocs. So it's not meant as a "serious" whump piece.

Italics= narration and action

Regular= oc speaking

Bold= the interrogator

Please enjoy the first of several!

CW: brief implied unreality if you squint (being told something is a dream when it's not.), drugging (At the end), character death (mentioned, not described)

Mibium groaned blearily as he was slowly pulled from his sleep, reluctantly opening his eyes. Once he did though, he realized he was not in the same place he’d fallen asleep. Which, realistically, should have sent him into a panic. But he’s been through this sort of thing far too many times. Looking around he was in a decently sized, if incredibly plain, room. On the ceiling was a single lit bulb shining down on a metal folding chair. The chair was facing a wall that looked to be made of a mirror. He stood up and cautiously walked over to the seat, and sat down. The metal creaking under his weight. The sound of a speaker turning on made his attention shift to the wall.

“Hello?”

Hello!

“What am I doing here?” He fidgeted with his hands resting in his lap.

You’re still asleep. Don’t worry about it.

“Uh… No? This feels far too real to be a dream…”

You’ve had far more realistic and vivid ones though, haven’t you?

“I suppose you’re right.” A chill runs down his spine thinking about those nightmares…

So, with that out of the way. I wanted to ask you some questions.

“Ok, shoot, I guess? An interview-” He glanced around the room. “Well… Interrogation? With my subconscious? Sounds interesting…”

Let’s start with some easy stuff. What is your name?

“Well my given name Is Mibium. And most angels don’t feel the need to have last names. But for work and socially I’ve been going by Mibium Martins.”

An Angel you say? What kind of angel?

“Two kinds actually… While I never got the chance to know them, one of my birth mothers was a guardian, and my other was a healer. Though I take after my guardian mom more.”

And what about your adoptive parents? Your Siblings?

“Well… They were busy a lot of the time. But did their best raising me and my three siblings. Like most nests, there were three of them. But we were a rowdy, and powerful, bunch.I have one older brother, one younger brother, and one younger sibling.” He gets a pained expression. “I wonder how they’re all doing now… It’s been so long since I’ve seen them…”

Oh? And why’s that?

He tensed, shifting uncomfortably in the too small chair. “I’m a fallen.There’s no going back after that. And before that I made… A lot of mistakes.” He shakes his head. “But none of that matters now. I’m happy here. End of story.”

End of story indeed.

“What?”

What?

… “Next question please…”

Oh, right. How old are you?

“Angels age a little differently than humans, but I’m in my early 30s. But If I have to give a human age, I say I’m 32. And I celebrate my birthday on October 1st.”

How would you describe your gender and orientation?

“I’m a cis man. And I do tend to prefer masc presentation, but I’m not uncomfortable with a more feminine presentation. And I use he/him pronouns.” He took a breath before continuing, “As for orientation, I am gay.”

Any significant relationships in your life, aside from family, you feel like sharing? Romantic or otherwise?

��Oh geez… Well, there’s really three major people who’ve had an impact. One for the worse, one for the better, and one without even knowing.” He reached up to his feather earring and tenderly ran his hand over it. “Azzie, was my first crush and childhood best friend. But… I made a mistake. And it cost him his life.” His hand drops back into his lap. “Which led to me ending up as Octavian’s guardian. And that man… Has had far too much an impact to briefly discuss… But on the other hand, I am now in a place where I am happily in a relationship. With another demon named Dayzel.”

What do you do for work?

“I work as a teacher! I work at a highschool teaching French, and helping run the drama club. Though of course I disguise myself as best I can.”

How would you describe yourself physically?

“Um…” He glances down at himself. “I guess most noticeably, I’m pretty tall. I’m 7-foot-2, which tends to raise some eyebrows. I am a bit more broad shouldered, and a good bit of muscle. I have blonde hair down just past my shoulders. Um… I have purple eyes? Some facial hair… And, while I usually keep them covered, I have a few tattoos.” He looks back into the mirror. “Does that suffice?”

Yes. Thank you for your time Mibium.

Mibium nodded into the mirror and closed his eyes, waiting to wake up after such a weird dream. But he cracked an eye open again, hearing an odd hissing sound. Before he could locate the source, he felt a sharp jab in his shoulder that made him jump with a shout. He reached behind him and pulled out a small dart. Then he was hit with another. And another. Before he could even register what was happening. He suddenly felt woozy and his movement slowed, before he slumped back in the chair, yet again unconscious.

#nightingale sings #nightingale writes #meet my ocs #but whump!#mibium oc #meet mibium

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lady-amethyst18 · 1 year

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(During the clean-up, Cal looked around the room to see how much had been done.)

Cal: Ah, yes. The lobby is looking a lot cleaner. I think now we can finally focus on the repairs.

Balan: How do we plan to fix the walls, beams, and household essentials? Can we even do it ourselves?

Cal: Some of them, yes. The theater may be in bad shape, but it's still sturdy. Honestly, this all could have been worse.

Balan: Huh?

Bruce: I think he means it's not as bad as it looks. The two big things we're worried about are the plumbing and the heater. Everything else can be fixed with a bit of elbow grease.

Balan: Boy, something about that makes me feel better. Knowing that my theater is not totally ruined gives me some more hope.

Emma: But it doesn't mean we're finished. We're just getting started. The building is enormous. There are rooms that we still need to look into. And I'm almost afraid of what we're going to see.

Iben: I have to admit those spiders gave me the creeps.

Yuri: You're just lucky I haven't found any black widows or brown recluses. Those things can pack a mean bite.

Balan: (shudders) Eugh! Don't even put that energy out there. I wouldn't want any of my friends to get injured.

Leo: Is there anything else that needs to be cleaned?

Sana: These windows look like they could use a good scrub.

(Sana looked at the tall stained glass windows. Their colors have gone gray because of the dust and dirt.)

Cass: Ew! They're filthy!

Emma: These poor windows. I bet they used to look beautiful before they got this way.

Balan: They did. I commissioned a window artist to make them. I feel so ashamed I let them get this way. I feel like I'm disrespecting the artist.

Leo: Aww, don't be like that, Balan. We'll get these cleaned up. We still have some window cleaner. We'll make them shine so bright they'll look like new.

Haoyu: They're... Kind of tall... Like... W-way high up.

Balan: Wait! I have a ladder! That way, we can reach them!

Eis: Well done, Balan. For once, you were actually prepared.

Cass: Someone should go up there and clean the windows. But who?

Leo: Could you do it, Haoyu? I bet you could reach them.

Haoyu: (scared) ME?! No way! Don't even think about sending me up there!

Leo: What's wrong? Are you afraid of heights?

Haoyu: (yells) Yes, I am! Could you not tell! How do you think I broke my arm!?

(Everyone stopped what they were doing. Haoyu felt embarrassed when all the eyes locked on him. Balan slowly approached the boy.)

Balan: Haoyu... What have you done?

Haoyu: (groans in defeat) 3 months ago, I attempted to build an airplane for the science fair at my school. A real one. My dad and I always loved inventing together, so we got to work. We built a shell around my bike to make it look like an airplane. And it was a real work of art if I do say so myself.

Leo: Wait a minute... I remember that science fair! You and I go to the same school, remember? But I didn't see you. Did you get sick or decide not to go?

Haoyu: I couldn't go... Because I made an idiot decision.

Cass: Like what?

Haoyu: I got so into building the plane I installed jet engines and turbines on it. Something my father told me not to touch. I thought touching the sky on a standard bike would be great. After all, everybody wants to fly. And I wanted to fly since I was a kid. So I took it out and flew around the neighborhood... But then... Catastrophe.

Fiona: What happened?

Haoyu: (sounding a little sad) The shell around my bike was just that. A shell. It wasn't built for aerodynamics; it was supposed to look cool. So I fell out of the sky. I was in the hospital for weeks with a concussion, cracked ribs, a bleeding leg, and an arm broken in several places. (gestures at his cast) The doctor said I was lucky to be alive. That's why I'm so afraid of heights. I could have died!

Fiona: Oh, Haoyu, that's terrible!

Balan: (grabs the boy and hugs him tight) Oh, Haoyu, you poor boy! I can't believe that happened to you! It must have been traumatizing! But I'm so glad you're still alive. It would break my heart to see you get hurt so badly. (gets a little teary) I don't know if I could handle that.

Haoyu: Balan, no waterworks... (sighs) But yeah. Ever since then, I've been so scared of heights. I can't even go on a swing without feeling like I'm in danger. I'm such a fool.

(Feeling terrible for the boy, Balan sat down with him and held him in his arms.)

Balan: You and I have the exact same problem. We take action before we think things through.

Emma: What do you mean, Balan?

Balan: The moment I graduated college, I had just enough money to buy the theater, hire a crew, and new furniture. But I never thought that the audience would leave me.

Sana: You couldn't have seen that coming.

(Balan ignores her remark and keeps talking to Haoyu.)

Balan: I had no backup plan for when things went wrong. So, like a fool, I wasted all my savings on everything at once.

Emma: Is that why you're poor?

Balan: It is... And it's something I'll regret for the rest of my life.

(Haoyu saw himself in Balan. He was right. He didn't think things through before he took action. But he smiled at last.)

Haoyu: Well... There's this saying in my family when we do something wrong.

Balan: What is it?

Haoyu: Lesson learned.

(Balan smiled and hugged Haoyu another time. Haoyu even hugged him back.)

Leo: I'm sorry, Haoyu. You don't have to wash the windows if you don't want to. We all want you to be safe and secure. Tell you what, I'll clean the tall windows. There are others that are lower to the ground.

Haoyu: Thanks. I appreciate it. And Balan, thanks for the pep talk. You're a good listener.

(Balan smiled and ruffled Haoyu's hair before standing up again.)

Iben: Alright, everybody. Let's get back to work.

So here's the context

The theater is a lot cleaner, thanks to everybody pitching in. Some repairs still need to be done and windows to be washed. Luckily, the damage isn't severe. Just some paint chipping off and small holes in the wall. But let's focus on the stained glass windows first.

But just as they would do so, Haoyu refused to clean the tall windows. The reason why is that he's scared of heights.

Haoyu took his airplane for a science project out for a spin, but it wasn't aerodynamically fit to be in the sky. It was meant to be a decoration. So he fell out of the sky and hurt himself. That would explain his broken arm.

Balan is horrified that Haoyu got hurt so badly and how he was thankful to still be alive. They both even have a heart-to-heart chat about taking action before considering a backup plan. But as the saying goes, lesson learned.

Hopefully, the two will be much wiser about their future actions.

This is my Lonesome Maestro AU. When Balan's first show was a disaster, and everyone left him. He's become very lonely and sad due to no one being around. Until Leo and Emma showed up and try to change his life for the better.

#balan wonderworld #lonesome maestro au #alternate universe #haoyu chang #leo craig #cal suresh #fiona demetria

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sandupommelfrog · 2 years

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Had some thoughts ab vague urban fantasy vampire Xicheng au

the Jiang family r apothecaries and serve both humans and non-humans. The Yu line has been p involved in criminal underbelly type stuff but Yu Ziyuan stopped doing that several yrs before they had kids together. She still teaches her children how to defend themselves.

Wei Wuxian is great at experimenting and creating new elixirs and shit, Yanli excels at putting customers at ease and figuring out what options there r for whatever help theyre seeking, and Jiang Cheng is bookkeeper/paper work extraordinaire.

YZY and JFM still hv a troubled marriage bcut the fact that since the 3 siblings started working, they fill different but essential roles and work in tandem at the shop, its gotten a bit better.

In this part of the city, non-humans r p chill and the humans who r aware of them r like “oh thats just my flatmate Marleen shes chill but like i hv to hose her down after she comes back covered in mud and twigs from a full moon romp”

So hunters r not particularly well liked even by humans bc of History, but they deal w monsters and demons that ur average person cant.

Lan Zhan walks into the shop one day looking to restock his toxin antidotes and Wei Wuxian is immediately and obliviously smitten and invites him to various parties and shit, to which he declines but keeps finding reasons to visit the shop and see Wei Ying <3

Lan Xichen is in the depression zone bc he was tricked by a black market trader (JGY?? Idk yet) into killing several innocent non humans and is seriously doubting whether he can make sound judgements and actually protect ppl. LWJ recently made him move back into their shared apartment but hes still hving a rough time.

the Wens r a vampire clan, and the Wen siblings frequent the shop too and deliver them warnings that Wen Chao is going to try to extort them

after the Jiangs refuse to give in to their extortion attempts, they burn down their shop. Their parents r alive but comatose and the siblings go into hiding

Wen goons r ab to nab WWX but JC sacrifices himself and gets killed and turned.

WWX gets LWJ’s help since the Wen extortion stuff was already a big no-no but an attack and kidnapping like this is under the Lan hunter’s perviee. WWX goes apeshit and takes 10000 psychic dmg when he goes to rescue his babie brother only to find a feral and hungry babie vampire JC.

JC is subdued and put into needle coma by Wen Qing while and WWX recuperates before going to make Wen Chao regret being born but uh oh! The Wens hv gone into hiding now that the Lans r involved.

WWX feels at fault for JC getting kidnapped and turned bc He is supposed to b Protective Older Brother and convinces Wen Qing to bag his own blood to feed JC. Yanli also offers her own blood, altho she cant donate as much.

JC eventually is pulled out of the coma, feeds, becomes lucid, and then falls in depression times as he struggled to come to turns w being a vampire now and he is an extremely hungee boy bc the Wens did something to him.

The Yunmeng sibs stay in hiding for a bit. Yanli salvages what she can from the family shop and w Wen Qing’s help, still meets w clients. WWX runs himself ragged trying to donate enough blood to keep JC lucid and sated and also trying to come up w a tonic to suppress his unnaturally strong hunger.

JC is an anxious mess wrt losing control again and also how WWX is exhausting himself w how much blood hes giving him. JC does what shop paperwork he can while learning the vampire basics from Wen Ning.

WWX finally perfects a tonic to suppress JC’s hunger and is able to recover physically and while they both love each other a lot, things r a bit rocky rn.

Now that hes feeling better, WWX starts to spend the weekends w LWJ looking for the Wens. JYL by chance gets into contact w JZX, werewolf heir to a Business Place or sth and starts trying to negotiate a deal to acquire funds to rebuild the shop while they also both navigate their own awkward mutual-but-believes-its-unrequited-attraction.

WWX and LWJ dont come back one day, and arent answering their phones. JC suspects that theyve finally gotten their heads out of their ass and r fucking. He has negative desire to bug them while Thats Happening but hes unexpectedly run out of hunger tonic and WWX’s notes r illegible.

So he finds LWJ’s address and breaks into their apartment, LXC is just vibing, lying down in bed, w the lights off when he hears someone pick the lock. The Lans hv a fair amount of enemies so hes ready to beat someones ass, esp if theyre the reason Wangji hasnt come home.

LXC catches JC by surprise and pins him against the wall in a kind of sexy way and after a lot of snark from JC LXC’s like oh ok ur chill and lets him go. Theyre both v worried ab their brothers and JC eventually explains his situation and LXC offers himself for JC to feed on while they look for them.

#jiang cheng #jc #mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #cql #wwx #lwj #lxc #lan xichen #xicheng #vampire au

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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let us help you | part 4.

Summary: The team is absolutely in love with one of the SHIELD recruits and hopes she joins the team considering she already lives with them. No one knows that she has several eating problems not even the two super-soldiers who seem to hang onto her even more than the rest of the team

Warnings for the Series: self-esteem issues, eating disorder, angsty, smut

Pairing: Stucky x black!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Morgan’s apartment was nice. She lived alone in a one-bedroom, not too cramped. Her personal style of sophistication was clear to see as not a thing seemed out of place and looked like it had purpose occupying the space. Training ended up having a practice mission over the weekend so it wasn’t until the next week you guys could have wine night, but Morgan was determined to have you all over.

You had given in and accepted the wine— wine being the only alcohol you would consume in your moments of clarity. Beer and others still felt like they would give you a beer belly overnight. Morgan was very liberal with what she considered a small glass. It was clear her intentions were to get everyone drunk, not that you minded since it was just the four of you. If any other recruits were there you wouldn’t dare risk loose lips or doing something embarrassing but these guys weren’t just potential teammates but, dare you say, actual work friends.

“Are they really different from training when they’re all relaxed at home?” Clark asked you.

They were intrigued with yours and the Avengers’ domestic life. While you weren’t going to invade the others’ privacy too much, like saying Nat owned several pink items of clothing or Tony and Bruce had matching Science Bros boxers, you did share funny moments and innocent stories. You almost choked on your wine at Courtney’s next question.

“Who’s the better kisser, (Y/N)? Cap or Sarge?”

“W-what makes you think I would know?” You stuttered through the question.

“Wait, you’ve kissed them?” Clark asked, this information being new to him and Morgan.

“She’s dating them,” Courtney said like it was fact and you wanted to know how the hell she knew anything.

“I’m not da—”

“My cousin’s Madeline Washington, told me you were beaming about it at the reunion. She just had to ask if it was true, not that she didn’t believe you but you know. And she knew I was with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

You sat back, knowing there was no getting around it now. You didn’t think about any of your classmates being related to other recruits. At least it was Courtney who found out, you were sure you would’ve died if it was Ryan or Lisa. She put a hand on your knee.

“Don’t worry, stays between us. No way we’re giving those dicks more ammunition.”

Morgan and Clark agreed with her and then leaned forward expectantly, wanting you to answer Courtney’s original question.

“It’s too different to compare. Buck’s a little more demanding, leaves me breathless every time. Stevie’s gentle usually. But he does this thing where he pulls my bottom lip between his teeth and I don’t know where he learned that but woo, chile,” you giggled, alcohol already going to your head.

The night continued with the alcohol, lots of gossiping about significant others, and mock fighting as you tried not to be too loud and disturb Morgan’s neighbors when you pinned each other to the floor. You were thankful it was supposed to be a sophisticated wine night— even if it didn’t end up that way— because Morgan only had charcuterie boards for food and you felt fine eating the bits of meat, fruit, and crackers.

Your phone started ringing and Clark was the one who brought it to you guys’ attention because he was practically screaming as he held it up. Bucky’s name and picture was up on your screen.

“Answer it on speaker!” He threw the phone to you. You shook your head but did as he said, the others trying to be quiet as you did.

“Angel?”

Courtney pretended to faint at the pet name.

“Yes?”

“You want to elaborate on that video you just sent us?”

You had already forgotten about Morgan saying you all should send sexy videos to your partners. In a tipsy haze, naturally, you all agreed and helped each other make them. You were in charge of Clark’s, making him look as buff and attractive as possible with the perfect lower angle as he danced to Courtney’s playlist of songs to start the mood. Courtney had way too much fun with a can of whipped cream per Morgan’s suggestion. Morgan was suddenly an expert at dancing on a table top, you guys almost ruined her video when the camera was almost dropped as she started stripping and you saw her in a lace number that was so different from the plain sports bra and boy shorts during training.

Courtney, who was in charge of your video, was over the moon that you were wearing fancy underwear as well as she suggested— demanded— you strip and pose on Morgan’s armchair. You suggestively ate a popsicle and sent it off to Steve and Bucky without much more thought, putting your clothes on and going back to talking.

“What video?” you asked in the most innocent voice.

“Oh you’ve got jokes now? She thinks this is funny, Stevie.”

You and your friends’ eyes went wide, not expecting Steve to be there too. Morgan had to grab a pillow to keep herself from running around the room. The line seemed to go dead and you were about to say something when Bucky’s voice came back sounding two tones darker than normal.

“Remember last week, angel?”

You bit your lip at the thought of your first time with both of them just last week. Muting the phone, you quickly confirmed what your friends were thinking.

“What about it?” There was an air of defiance with your tone.

“Thought we said you were such a good girl for us. That video’s far from being a good girl and while we’re on a mission.”

Courtney hit you in the arm and muted the call.

“Call him, Sarge. See what it does. Do it, do it.”

Everyone needed a second to squeal it out before you unmuted the phone.

“And what are you going to do about it, Sarge?”

You guys were giddy with the sharp intake of breath that came from Bucky. This time it was Steve that answered.

“What do we normally do when you guys act up, (Y/N)?” Steve was using his captain’s voice. “I expect an answer, recruit?”

“Punishment,” you answered.

“What do you think it should be for that little stunt?”

The others were encouraging you to do the same thing you did to Bucky to Steve. It was sort of a rush having your friends there as they all pooled ideas to try and work up your boyfriends as much as possible. You had to admit you were also curious about where and how far exactly the two of them would go.

“Whatever you think I deserve, Captain,” you whispered into the phone.

He had the same sharp intake of breath that Bucky did. You would’ve been satisfied by both of their reactions alone, thinking they might not keep going. You guys heard on the phone as Steve talked to Bucky, purposely loud enough that you could hear but also acting as if you weren’t even there.

Morgan poured everyone another glass, technically only the second but again her liberal glasses made it hard to judge how much it actually was. Courtney and Clark were pretending to fan themselves as they heard Steve and Bucky talking about what they might do— hearing their mentors talk like this was such a foreign sound. Your friends’ attention turned from the phone and to you with Bucky’s next words.

“Weren’t you struggling so hard to take us, angel? What do I remember you saying, felt like you were being split in half?”

Morgan looked away, tipping her glass to her face, feeling like she was going to blush hearing words not directed towards her.

“How do you think a punishment will feel? You really want that?”

There was a softness in his voice. He and Steve were giving you an out from the more rough side of their sex life. Secretly they hoped this wasn’t just for show and you wanted it like them, or were at least willing to try it.

“I can handle it,” you assured them and even though you couldn’t see it, they both had dark smiles on their face.

“What happened to the formality and respect?”

“I can handle it, Sarge.”

“Oh don’t get shy now. You started it with that video and those pictures. Can you give us a word, (Y/N)? Sarge needs a word before we hang up the phone with you.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing this in the presence of your friends but they just kept grinning and encouraging the debauchery right in front of them. You looked at them for help in coming up with something. Morgan, who did this with her partner, informed you it should be something you are never likely to say during sex but also memorable so you don’t forget.

“Angel?” Bucky asked after the long bout of silence.

“I’m thinking, Sarge. Gemstones.”

“You really love your eyes, don’t you, doll.”

“Hard not to when Captain says they’re an abyss, you two always gettin’ lost in ‘em.”

“You’re getting a little bratty, angel. Watch yourself. Gemstones, that’s our word.”

“When we get back from our mission, be prepared, angel. Couldn’t walk the next day, how long you think it’ll take you this time to stop walking funny. Our pretty doll’s gonna be a little broken doll.” Steve dropped his voice even more.

You gasped and shoved your face into a pillow while the others’ jaws dropped in silence. Steve and Bucky chuckled.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Bucky asked.

You nodded and then realized they couldn’t see you. “Yes, Sarge. Yes, Captain.”

“There’s a good girl,” Steve’s voice returned to normal. “We’ve got to go, see you when we’re done. Okay, pretty doll? Love you, bye.”

“See you soon, angel. I love you,” Bucky added.

“Bye, Stevie, Buck. Love you both.”

The minute the phone cut off, you found yourself at the bottom of a dogpile as your friends jumped on top of you. They were making all sorts of noises, some indiscernible. Only when you complained about being able to breathe did they get off.

“Who knew Cap had such a dirty mouth?” Morgan exclaimed.

Clark nodded, almost dropping his glass. “Expected that from Sarge but… you get both of them, how do you handle it?”

“You heard Sarge, she doesn’t,” Courtney laughed. She laughed even as you hit her in the arm with the pillow.

It was a pleasant surprise when Sam knocked on the door to Morgan’s apartment. Between the video, phone call, and the giggles that they could clearly hear because you seemed to forget they were enhanced, Steve and Bucky had called Sam and asked if he would take you back to the compound instead of you driving. So he had Happy drop him off and would just drive your car back. You practically pulled Sam into the apartment.

He could tell why they had asked. You and the others were giggling like crazy over the stupidest shit and there seemed to be no end in sight. While he refused the wine since he was the designated driver, Sam did eat off the charcuterie board. It was nice seeing you with recruits from your department that you actually got along with. Sure you had the team and other people in S.H.I.E.L.D., for instance in the IT Department, but it was important to have colleagues in your division that you could get along with. Especially because even though the Avengers were a special team, sometimes they went on missions with field agents.

Steve was two steps into the room when he saw you sprawled across their bed, taking full advantage of the fact that neither of them were there. You knew they were coming back around a couple of tentative dates so since two days ago you had started sleeping in their bed, aside from the time you crashed in their room when Sam took you home. It had been about six days since the wine night.

Since he was up as one of the trainers that week, despite having just come back from a mission, he stripped out of the suit and put on some gym clothes. He laid down on the bed next to you, centimeters away from your face, seeing if you would wake. It was maybe only two seconds after he started staring that your eyes popped open.

“Steve, you ruined my sleep. I had…” you reached over to check the time on your phone. “Forty minutes left, dick.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

He laughed because you were right. “Just missed you, angel.”

You weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep so you crawled onto him, laying down on his chest. Steve thought you looked adorable as you looked at him with sleepy eyes. You scrunched your nose after he poked it.

“Me and Buck’s mission got split up so he’s not coming back till the end of the week. I was thinking we could on a small date tonight, pretty doll. Live show and dinner… your face, (Y/N).” Steve gently traced the area under your eye.

“What?”

He grabbed your phone and opened it for you to see the area was littered in red freckles. You looked in confusion and brought the phone closer to your face and then pulled it back as if that would change it. Steve noticed the way even you seemed surprised.

“That wasn’t there yesterday, I don’t think.”

“What did you do yesterday?”

“Ate breakfast with Sam, got my ass whooped in training cause Ryan’s a piece of shit, took lunch in the lab with Tony and Bruce. I went down to the simulation room, got my ass whooped again by bots. Team dinner… I ate the rest of you and Buck’s ice cream, not sorry about that.”

“You were fighting in training and then went to the simulation room?”

“Yesterday was not my day Stevie, glad Sharon was training us. I don’t think Nat would let me live down getting my head slammed against a mat multiple times. Took him down once with the thigh move though so little victory.”

“This time I think you actually pushed yourself too far.”

“Hmm?” You gave him a head tilt.

“I know last time it was…” Steve hesitated to say anything.

“Throwing up, bulimia. You can say it Steve, the word isn’t going to trigger me. Out of anything, it’s the medical term.”

“Well, last time it was that. But you’ve been doing fine, remember Dr. Cho said it could happen from overexertion. Yesterday seems to count.”

“I’ve gotten my ass beat before, Stevie.”

“Just telling you what I think.”

You sighed. “Okay… you’re not benching me today.”

“(Y/N).”

“We can’t just take breaks because we’re tired, bad guys don’t rest. Is there any blood in my eye?”

“No, just the capillaries underneath.”

“So I’m fine.”

“You were slammed into the floor by bots.”

“If I can flip you will you let me go to training, Stevie? I think that’s fair enough to show I’m not over worked.”

Steve thought it over and agreed. You had only ever been able to flip him twice before and that was at your peak fitness in the middle of the day on a good day. Right now it was early in the morning and you were tired. He felt that if you could do it now then maybe you were right, you might’ve pushed yourself too much yesterday but you’d be fine for training. You both stood up, you shivering as you left the warmth of the comforter. Steve had to refrain from teasing as you held up a hand to stop him because you had to yawn first.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

He came at you and you grabbed his wrist with one hand and shoved the other one into his shoulder. There was a bit of struggle as you lifted him but his back was on the bedroom floor in no time. You stood over him, smiling, clearly proud of yourself.

“So, I’m off the bench. Right, Captain?”

He stuck a hand out and when you went to help him, he pulled you down making you laugh.

“Just don’t work yourself too much. You can still get sick from pushing too hard.”

“I’ll be careful, Stevie. Just don’t let anyone give me punishment today.”

Steve leaned into your ear. “Oh no, pretty doll. Your punishment is waiting for when Sarge gets back.”

You shivered. Steve pecked your lips and then kissed your cheek. The two of you got off the floor, Steve mentioning you still had twenty-five minutes left before the alarm but you had given up all hopes of going back to sleep. So the two of you decided to go downstairs for breakfast and look at the restaurants near the live show to pick where to go.

He didn’t make it obvious but Steve was watching you intently as you scrolled through the phone while eating the omelette and toast he fixed. You absentmindedly nodded after a particularly good bite and then held the phone out for Steve, who had ducked his head down before you had a chance to cast your eyes up.

“This place looks nice. It’s supposed to be traditional and authentic Italian, the pictures of the pasta look good.”

Steve relaxed. You had eaten almost all of the breakfast he made and suggested a place with hearty food. And he made note of what you had said you ate yesterday, lots of his and Buck’s video calls with you were over meals.

“Doesn’t look bad, doll. You think we’ll need reservations?”

“Nah, seems mom and pop. I bet their kids made the website for them but I don’t think it’s a place with a long waiting list.”

“Then it’s a date. Buck said you busted out a real pretty dress last time.”

“Would you like me to put on a fancy dress for you as well?” you asked with a bit of sass but entirely good natured.

“Please?”

You smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. “One pretty, rose number coming up.”

The two of you finished breakfast and Steve left to prep the training room while you put on gym clothes. You took Steve’s plate along with yours and threw away the little bit left over. When you heard the elevator doors close, you hung your head over the sink and aggressively shoved two fingers down your throat until you gagged. Looking at the mess in the sink as the water washed it down the drain, you kicked the bottom cabinet in anger. You had been doing so well. And now you had to go around hiding and ending video calls early with Bucky and Steve so you could throw up the little they saw you eat and throw the rest away when no one else was watching.

You gripped the edge of the counter to refrain from doing it again when you thought of how upset they’d be if they found out. Pulling yourself together, you got ready so you could go downstairs and start working out with everybody else. It was going to be a long day, the first half starting in the training room and then moving to counterintelligence training before being done.

You elbowed Courtney and Morgan as they, along with Clark, were trying their hardest to not laugh as Steve entered the room again and you all stood in a line. You saw the slight smile on his face before he became stoic and realized he and Bucky knew exactly what had happened and that your friends knew. You were just trying to figure out did you reveal it or did Sam? Considering Sam was more your ride or die than he was theirs, you assumed your silly drunkenness exposed you.

Today was technically a free day on the training schedule, so Steve figured he would prep all the stations and let the recruits decide what they wanted to do or even if they wanted to stay in the gym. He was getting suggestions from everyone, including the mock HYDRA base at the very back of the compound which sounded pretty enjoyable. The mock base was new, S.H.I.E.L.D. had finished it only last weekend. The thought was the floorplan could be rearranged to mimic a different building layout every single time and the trainer could type in whatever setting for the bots, constantly changing the simulation.

“How about you, (Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” you asked, clearly not paying attention since you were still trying to shush your friends.

The rest of the class naturally gave looks and were readying themselves in case Steve asked one of them what the punishment should be. Steve was internally smirking, not thinking the opportunity to fluster you was going to happen so quickly.

“I asked if you had another suggestion otherwise we’re going to the mock base.”

You paused to think if there was anything else aside from the base that might be enjoyable for a relaxing training day just like Steve hoped you would.

“I expect an answer, recruit.”

Morgan had to turn her head into Courtney’s shoulder as she tried not to laugh. Courtney and Clark were biting the inside of their cheeks as hard as possible to not make a noise. You went wide-eyed and started to stutter. Should Steve probably let it go? Maybe, but he wasn’t going to as you stumbled through the beginning of an answer. He moved to stand in front of you. It took all his willpower to keep his hands clasped behind his back instead of taking one to lift your chin up so you would meet his gaze since when you looked straight ahead like everyone else it wasn’t eye level.

“Do you need to stay behind recruit while the rest of your team gets started until you can give us a proper answer… everyone clear out and meet Agent Wilson at the mock base to get started. Seems one recruit would rather have a lesson today.”

The others cleared out, you watched them all start to file out while Steve’s eyes never left you. Your friends filed out last. They gave you thumbs up and wagged eyebrows behind Steve’s back as they walked out.

“You think he’ll make her run at his speed?” you heard someone ask.

“Hope he has her do his workout.”

“That’s too brutal, he trains like a MAC truck, she might actually die.”

“Well then, I hope he at least keeps her the whole class.”

That was the last comment you heard before the heavy doors slammed shut. Steve finally moved as his hands found your waist. His kiss started off sweet before the signature dragging of your lip between his teeth. Your hands that were fisted in his shirt moved to wrap around the back of his neck in attempts to bring Steve closer to your height, tired of having to stretch up to meet him. Steve laughed against your lips.

“Jump,” he mumbled.

You tensed up, Steve thinking it was from the command.

“Steve, I’m t—” you started to panic before changing the answer. “If someone comes in.”

“Promise they won’t, doll.”

You gasped when he didn’t command again but just lifted you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his center. Steve’s lips pressed to your neck, not enough to leave a hickey but enough that you felt him, as he walked towards the door. Your back hit it and Steve began to grind on you.

Between the door and his left hand, Steve easily had you pinned so he moved his right one to rub circles over your cloth-covered sex. You bit your lip to stifle a moan. Steve removed his lips from your neck to watch. Your eyes snapped open and your head dropped to look at Steve when his movements suddenly stopped.

“Wha— what, I was…”

“Sarge’s idea for the first part of your punishment. You didn’t think you’d get to finish without both of us here. Did you, angel?”

“But, that’s— but—”

“Safeword?” Steve asked.

You shook your head. Steve stepped back and lowered you to the ground, opening the door so you guys could walk out and head to the mock base.

“Then take your punishment, doll. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll be able to convince Sarge to let you cum right away when he gets home.”

“Aren’t you Captain? Why do we have to ask, Sarge?”

The hallway was empty but you were aware it was still a risk if someone came around the corner as you put your hands on Steve’s chest. You reached up to try and kiss him, hoping you could convince him to agree and shove you back into the training room to finish getting you off. You thought it might have worked as Steve started to lean down. He grabbed your arms from his chest and held them away from him.

“You just made your punishment worse.”

“Wait, no,” you whimpered.

“Training. Let’s go, your team’ll probably halfway through the first simulation by the time we get down there,” Steve said.

You looked at him with a dropped jaw that he met with a sickly sweet smile that he usually gave at Tony’s parties to people that came up to him. You closed your mouth and stomped off.

“You’re being a brat, angel.”

“Don’t care. You and Sarge are mean.”

He laughed and followed you to the mock base. You wouldn’t look at him the whole time except once when only Sam was watching to poke your tongue out at him before running into the base with everyone else. Sam laughed, even though he sided with you on principle alone, when he heard why you were suddenly giving Steve a cold shoulder.

Of course you weren’t actually mad or very annoyed with Steve. That was confirmed when you finally shot him a smile as you all left the mock base for lunch. And then again when he winked at you across the cafeteria and you subtly blew him a kiss, Clark who sat right in front of you pretending it was for him to help throw anyone off. You mainly pushed around the salad, taking a bite every now and then because you knew Steve might be watching.

It was easy to pretend that you just hadn’t noticed you didn’t eat that much when you were talking with Courtney, Morgan, and Clark because people would just assume you were too engaged in conversation to remember to eat at the same time. You left to go to counterintelligence. Studying up on mental exercises was just as important as working out. There was no point in being a good field agent when it came to fighting if you had no smarts.

Like expected, classes ended with just enough time for you and Steve to get ready before having to head downtown for the show. The same way you thought it was cute if you and Bucky got dressed separately, you made Steve do the same. He didn’t really see how it made a difference but you insisted it added some specialness back into it since you guys lived together, so he went along with it and got dressed in his room while you went to yours.

The rose dress was a short number— not bodycon, somewhat frilly— that you had worn a few times but never on a date. Because of the zipper that allowed you to put it on from the bottom, you decided to do your hair and makeup first. The foundation easily covered up the broken capillaries and you were back to looking by before. You spritzed your favorite perfume and gave your head a once over to make sure everything was set before grabbing your dress.

Your breath caught in your throat as you pulled on the zipper. It wouldn’t go up. You pulled it down and tugged it up your side again but it got stuck again, a little higher than before. Your breathing got shallow as you muttered no and tried again, feeling tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

Steve was in the elevator headed to your floor to knock on the door and pick you up. He was a little more dressed up being in a suit but not fully formal like a tux would be. Steve heard the retching as he got close to the door and barged in without even bothering a knock. He reached your bathroom to see you hunched over the toilet, dress halfway zipped.

“(Y/N)?” he asked hesitantly and watched as your whole body froze.

“No” you said barely above a whisper, not moving from your spot.

He watched you snake a hand up to flush the toilet. Stepping from the doorway, Steve walked further in and you closed your eyes as the footsteps grew nearer. His touch felt burning hot on your shoulder and you shoved him off.

“Don’t touch me!”

You sunk back away from the toilet, staring at your dress. Steve stared at the hand that you still had dangling over the toilet, two fingers covered in evidence. It was the first time he had ever seen you do anything. You let the tears flow now, streaks of black from mascara and eyeliner already starting to run down your face.

“I fucked up.” Your clean hand picked at a piece of lint on your dress.

“I fucked up. Sam picked me up and we stopped at a diner so I wouldn’t be hungover. Then I felt like shit because it was past 10:30 when I ate, way past. And then you and Buck called and it was before run time but I ate breakfast early anyway and I’m not supposed to do that.”

“Doll, those rules are arbitrary.”

“No, no. They’re there so I don’t get fat and look what happens when I don’t follow them. I ate you and Buck’s ice cream for dinner and other things and none of it was good.”

“Is that what you consider bingeing?”

You nodded as you slowly got up to wash your hands and brush your teeth, still having not looked at Steve the whole time.

“We watched you eat over video, those were all normal size maybe even a little sm—”

“Too big. They were too big and I broke the rules and now I can’t fit in the dress,” you said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

You were growing irritated that Steve wouldn’t drop it. You wanted him to leave so you could just fall asleep and act like he didn’t witness any of it in the morning, you were probably going to sleep in your own room that night. Steve stood up from where he had bent down to initially check on you and walked over to where you were staring at yourself in the mirror. You were silent as his hands slowly placed themselves on you but you didn’t shake him off this time.

“This dress?”

He pulled the zipper up all the way and closed the little clasp. You looked down at it, shaking your head in disbelief. Steve’s hands left you. The zipper hadn’t been hard for him to close at all, considering the dress still had room once it was all the way on you.

“But it didn’t… I saw it wouldn’t zip.”

“The zipper must’ve hit a snag,” Steve said.

What he wouldn’t tell you was that it zipped with no problems. There were no snags or loose threads. You had convinced yourself it didn’t fit. Whatever you saw blocked you from seeing reality and you genuinely imagined it wasn’t closing.

“The red freckles, you’ve been throwing up since our first call.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I thought you two would— I didn’t want you guys mad at me. I said I would get better.”

“We would never be mad about it. It’s a real problem you’re going through, us yelling isn’t going to help you with anything… we asked you to let us help you. You have to mention a relapse for us to do that. We’ll never yell, no judgement.”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

“Will you take a walk with me?”

You took Steve’s arm, not noticing him grab the makeup bag on your counter. You looked in confusion when the walk was to their room, more specifically the bathroom. Steve asked if he could lift you up and you let him sit you on the counter. He pulled out your makeup wipes, riding your face of the black streaks down your cheeks and the smudged lipstick around the mouth.

“Your hair’s perfect, you really pulled out all the stops with it. I think a lip color closer to your lips would really emphasize it.”

Steve rummaged through your bag until he found a color slightly darker than the tone of your bottom lip. Applying it gently, he stepped back and admired his work. His hands danced up the sides of your dress again, playing with the zipper before gently pulling it down.

“I think maybe we should have our date at home. What if I drew you, is that a good date idea? Will you let me draw you, pretty doll? Capture how you are. That seems like a fun date night?”

“I’d like that.”

You followed Steve to the couch in their room. The dress fell off of you and he carefully peeled off your underwear, wanting you to trust him and not feel too vulnerable. You let him direct you in a pose as he set a soft, decorative pillow underneath your head. Steve grabbed one of your largest headscarves from the drawer of the nightstand on Bucky’s side. He draped it, rather artistically, over you.

“FRIDAY, please play classical music.”

You watched Steve flutter about for all his art supplies as the first note of the piano played. He taped up a decent sized cut of paper. He began to draw, eyes with a new air of focus. Since he wasn’t working on your lips till the very end, Steve asked for you to tell stories of your childhood. Things you remembered or whatever you used to enjoy.

It wasn’t hard to draw you, he honestly probably could do it from memory. Steve was intentional to draw you exactly as you were— not someone else’s idealized style and not in your warped perception either. He was sure to get every birthmark, mole, anything that made you, you.

You took a short break, Steve leaving to get you a smoothie, knowing it was the one thing you would eat. He was good at being a quick sketch artist, able to capture details in a short time. So while this drawing was taking a long time because he wanted it as right as possible, Steve was able to finish it and color it. He grabbed various copic markers and walked to the couch. You turned from the side pose you had been holding to lay flat on your back as Steve straddled you. He placed a scrap piece of paper on your stomach and began to play with the markers, blending the colors until the paper matched your skin.

“There we go. Why don’t you take a shower and get ready for bed, angel? Let me finish up the drawing.”

Steve blocked your view from the drawing as you walked into the bathroom. He got on the phone as he colored to let Bucky know what all had happened. You had voiced concern on wanting to tell him but not feeling like you could will yourself to say something again.

“Is she okay?”

“I think she’s fine now, Buck. But you never know.”

You came back out and Steve told you to sit on the bed because he wasn’t quite done yet. The headscarf he draped over your for the portrait was the one you used to tie your hair up. Steve finished up and informed you he was going to shower, finally revealing the drawing to you. You traced it with your fingers, admiring the work. You wiped at your eyes, not wanting tears to drop on his work. Steve came back and crawled into bed with you.

“That’s what we all see… well, Bucky and I are the lucky ones to see the whole thing.”

You chuckled. “I want to frame it. It’s beautiful, thank you Steve.”

“Of course, pretty doll.”

You set down the drawing and tangled yourself up with him. Steve petted your arm and traced gentle patterns on your skin. He pressed a kiss to your head. Steve watched you for a minute.

“Angel?”

“Yes?”

“I’m happy for your existence. That you’re here with us.”

(end)...

#stucky x reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

26 notes · View notes

primalspice · 11 months

Note

Ratbro - 🖊️, 🩹, 💤, , 💯, 🔺, 🐷, 💔, 💜, 🥪, 🤔, 🧐,

🫡

🖊️ — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos?

He doesnt have any but he wants one that says FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT FUCKING RESUSCITATE

🩹 — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

for a guy who got revived from being esploded and then locked in a warehouse for 30 years hes doing pretty ok but he's quite ptsd'd and brain damaged and chronic pain'd. him and his bestie can bond over shared morphine ^w^

💤 — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

its really a mixed bag LOL generally he sleeps lightly and disturbedly. a little more scheduled at the fresk facility (not his choice) but a little less horribly overall once hes with faust.

💯 — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Details irt his dying and undying: he was like esploded and shot because he happened to join the military just before the once-every-20-years-severe-civil-unrest. and he died but the soon-to-be-defunct Citizens Longevity Project stitched his sorry ass back up and life supported him and tried to see wtf else would work Experimentally. it was Painful and Traumatizing for him. The project got defunded like a year or two after they realived him but long story short the founder coordinated things to where he and the others would pretty much have to just relocate but still stay in Custody. It was already pretty horrific but the quality of care obviously went steeply downhill LOL the only good part was that they didnt really bring in anyone new to get experimented upon.

2. Unlike harvey he actually graduated highschool before joining the military, but honestly it probably woulda been better for him to go earlier since he kinda sucked at school LOL. part two: i regret to inform that altho he was mainly a soldier/body to get shot at, his position during peacetime was pretty much just a junior cop.

3. He's pretty unimpressed by Faust's fancy coffee-making skills and doesnt really like coffee in the first place, but anything that isnt Facility Slop is a treat to him so he drinks it anyway.

🔺 — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

He still remembers how to shoot *smiles* thats pretty much all tho, he'd have been a decent fighter in his youth despite his tall scrawnyness but those days are long gone. he sure can try tho.

🐷 — what is your oc's favorite animal?

I don't think he's ever really had pets or anything, but he'd likely enjoy a dog. i say this insultingly.

💔 — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

Im gonna like.....not bring his Circumstances into it so i'll just focus on his base personality LOL. he's a Sheeple for lack of better words 😔 severely. Kinda in the same vein, he's quite approval-seeking. And i think he also suffers from harvey's disease in that he acts very passive and clueless while participating in (usually indirect) violence. altho i suppose he paid for that last one pretty quickly seeing how his bout in the military ended LOL.

💜 — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background?

Apart from several generations of region zeroites, i think his and harvey's ancestors are majorly like. german/british medwestern americans.

🥪 — what does your oc's typical lunch look like? do they usually eat lunch?

Faust gives him his unwanted scraps like he's a dog. He gets his own lunch when theyre living together too tho, ofc. hes a VIP. He has whatever Faust is having and its a LUXURY compared to the like. cheese sandwiches and slop he's been served at the freak facility.

🤔 — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

He's often very confused or volatile Because he is confused because he was like literally reborn today and he can't catch a break. He has a staring problem.

🧐 — is your oc more logical or emotional?

He's guided by his desire to Keep The Peace, and he usually sees that as doing what he's told. I think its an emotional response. It's hard for him to follow much logic even if he wanted to nowadays, he's only able to operate in the Non-Warehouse World off of what the extremely biased other in his life have told him since he's been out.

#ask game #raymond

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danganronpa-21 · 2 years

Text

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

General Warnings: N/A

Fandoms: Danganronpa (Series)

Relationships: Naegi Makoto/Kirigiri Kyoko

Additional Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Dorks in Love, Pocky Game, Romantic Teasing, Seriously Kyoko is just the most playful partner through all of this

Summary: Makoto and Kyoko have a bit of a history with the Pocky game. Back in their days at Hope's Peak, they'd tried to compete against one another in a round of the game... but Makoto's early breakaway left behind some unsatisfying results. Now, several years later, the two are married and just as in love as ever. Still, with the situation being such an embarrassing memory for Makoto, Kyoko can't help but want to give her husband a chance to redeem himself.

Word Count: 3667 words

Chocolate banana pocky meant that Kyoko was up to something.

It certainly seemed innocent on the surface, didn’t it? The fact that Makoto’s wife had brought home such a nice little treat? Most men would have been delighted by her decision. Hell, some might even call him lucky – he’d heard from some of the other married teachers at Hope’s Peak that their partners had them on diets or restricted their intake of sugary goodies! The mere idea that he could even raise an eyebrow at something as innocent as a box of chocolate banana pocky must have been unthinkable to them.

Yet, there he was, trying not to glance at the pocky too much as he helped her put away the groceries. The sight of that long yellow box, all neatly packaged by hand… it was almost enough to make him forget that Kyoko bought the expensive chili oil again. Where did she even find it? With the Tragedy, the company behind pocky fell out of business. With worldwide starvation, thousands of businesses like Ezaki Glico crumbled. Numbers of workers dwindled; light snacks lost their importance to people. Survival became the biggest concern of all, and so, most people favoured any fresher foods they could find. Treats hit an all time low in popularity. Still, he supposed that didn’t mean that people couldn’t choose to bring back the brand now that things were starting to recover. He just hadn’t been expecting the revival of pocky so soon.

“See anything interesting at the marketplace?” He asked semi-nonchalantly, stealing one last peek back at her as he started to unload a bag of shiny Fuji apples. They’d been craving them recently. “I know Hagakure-kun had said they were setting up more services there.”

“I didn’t see too many of the new people, to be honest,” she smiled softly. “I was mostly just focused on getting our groceries. I wanted to make sure that I got the right kind of seaweed this time.”

Makoto couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head. Talk about ironic. “All that effort went into finding the right seaweed, and yet you forgot about buying the right kind of chili oil.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” he could hear her smirk in her voice without even turning to look. “Mine just tastes better.”

He poked his tongue out at her from between his lips. “Yeah, well, it also costs twice as much, Kiri. Maybe you can afford to spend your life’s savings on chili oil, but I have my eyes on a retirement plan, thank you very much.”

“It’s ¥1295, Makoto.”

“And maybe that’s just ¥295 too many. Let’s save the expensive chili oil for when we’re all old and weathered by the world.”

Letting out a pfft sound, Kyoko rolled her eyes. “I feel as if we have been through enough to consider ourselves weathered at the ripe young ages of twenty-four and twenty-three. The problem is merely that you just like to be impossible sometimes.”

Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, he thought to himself. Kyoko loved to have things her way. Most of the time he was able to work with her stubbornness, but every once in awhile, it was just a bit exasperating. Sometimes it was nice to be able to pay it back to her like this… but only if it was teasingly. So, all he did in this situation was laugh and shake his head. What kind of husband would he be if he liked causing his partner undue trouble?

“So, did you see anything else interesting while you were gone? Maybe you didn’t see a whole bunch of people, but did you see any interesting products? Anything we might need to swing by and check out, or something?”

She paused for a moment, the already upturned corners of her mouth twitching even further. She had been waiting for him to say something. Oh, he could only imagine how pleased with herself she was on the way back from her trip, probably giggling to herself. Teasing him and testing his deductive abilities were two of her favourite things to do, so it came as no surprise that she tried to pair them together. It wasn’t the first time she’d tried something like this, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“So you noticed the pocky, did you?” She purred, resuming her unpacking of the groceries into their refrigerator. Of all of the things in her grocery bag, her little treat seemed to be what she wanted to keep for last, even if they both knew it was going to be the star of the show. “I’m glad you caught on so quickly. Do you recall the relevance of the flavour?”

“Choco banana? Like I could forget,” he sighed, arms crossing across his chest, “It’s like the one flavour of pocky I couldn’t eat for awhile.”

“Oh, come now Makoto,” Kyoko said, pressing a finger to her lip in faux-innocence, “Did you find me that revolting when we were young?”

His brows knitted themselves together, fighting off a pout. Had she not realized just how embarrassing that situation actually was for him? The others poked fun at him for weeks afterward. The gossip spread far enough that Komaru had started mocking him over it, and she didn’t even go to school with them! “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, I do…” Half of a shy smile still reigned on her face. “But did you really stay away from chocolate banana pocky after that incident?”

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I couldn’t help it. Every time I saw it, my face got red all over again, and I kicked myself for having embarrassed myself so badly in front of you. It got to the point where Komaru would point it out every time we were in the store. For something that I didn’t want to make into a big thing, I sure made it into one for myself.”

Kyoko shook her head sympathetically. “You really were – and are – far too hard on yourself. Honestly, I did not think anything of it apart from a bit of disappointment.”

“I disappointed you?”

She shrugged. “Only a little. I believe I’ve told you that your affection was reciprocated much earlier than the Tragedy.”

That much he knew to be true. In a way, thought, that made it feel worse. If she liked him as much as he liked her, then she must have been looking forward to being wrapped up in that challenge with him. Winner or stalemate, it still would have been time they spent together. She would be close to him, feeling his warm breath on her face, admiring the tiny flecks of brown in his otherwise green eyes… Other incidents proved that neither of them were prepared to make that first step in kissing each other, especially not when their friends were making fun of them, yet guilt pooled in his stomach anyway. If the shoe was on the other foot, he figured he’d be about where she was: understanding, yet disappointed nonetheless.

“You have,” he muttered, biting at his lip absent-mindedly, “But that disappointment is proof enough to me that it would have meant something.”

To this, she laughed softly. “Of course it would have meant something, Makoto. It’s you. You always meant something to me,” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “That being said, your early loss was not soul-crushing for me. To be frank, I found it endearing. You’re rather winsome when you’re flustered.”

Heat rose in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Ironic that his body could take the words as cue. Their relationship had held for awhile now, yet her compliments still caught him off-guard. No one was quite sure why. Sometimes he wondered if it was embarrassment at being complimented despite his blandness, but Kyoko assured him that couldn’t quite be right. While imperfect, his self-image was in a continuous state of improving. Humility, however, was something she insisted was still among his strongest traits, and that she believed was the reason for all of his blushing.

“Still, I… I would’ve liked to deliver for you. Even if it was just a few more bites than last time, I’d have felt better about myself…”

A brief pause hung in the air, and with it, Makoto realized that they had both stopped unpacking. Instead, the pressure of her gaze now rested upon him, and though he could feel the warmth she held for him, actually meeting her eyes seemed a bit scary – almost as if they would be laced with that same expectation she had in their youth. Still, she was the love of his life; he trusted her. So without another thought, he drifted his gaze back to her. It was a battle, trying not to look completely and utterly meek, but he liked to think he knew how to do that. The fact that she had a schemer’s smirk when his eyes met her did little to help his attempt, though.

“Makoto, why do you think I bought the pocky when I saw it?”

His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Was she testing his deductive reasoning, teasing him, or both? Both, he decided, was the most likely answer. It was usually both. “Because you… wanted to give me a second chance?”

She quirked a brow. “Is that your final answer?”

He nodded a little too formally, making her snicker. “Yes ma’am.”

“Well, since you properly recognized my ambitions… are you willing to give it a try?”

A smile played at his lips and he nodded again. “Yes ma’am,” he parroted.

_______________________________________________________________

Never in his life had Makoto felt so daunted by a cookie stick.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t true.

Considering this whole situation was redemption from a previous incident, he definitely had been this daunted by a cookie stick before. Even so, this time deserved second place in the cookie stick reign of terror. Kissing his wife would be an easy feat… but kissing his wife, while nervous, in an effort to redeem himself after previously having chickened out of kissing her because he got nervous? That was much harder than anyone would likely give him credit for, but he was determined to do it.

Kyoko didn’t seem at all bothered by the situation. In fact, he kind of expected that she was relishing it a little bit. A faint grin rested on her lips as she took her place across from him on the loveseat, burnt hands making easy work of opening the box to pick out a piece. Well, until she met with the obstacle of the internal package. She frowned at that.

“I forgot that they used to package them like this,” she complained, removing the shining silver packaging with a sigh, “You’d think in a post-Tragedy world they would try and make these more straightforward.”

Makoto shrugged. “They wanted to make it authentic to the original experience. I doubt it’s the same company.”

Her gaze did not lift from the package as she fumbled with it, trying to tear it open. Poor Kyoko. While often she could manage to get things open on her own, other times, her gloves made everything slippery and damn near impossible to handle. “Not quite. One of the gentlemen there used to work at the production facility, but since the company’s disbanded and all, it’s tough to say whether we should consider it authentic.”

He reached out a hand in mercy of his poor wife, who surrendered the package to him with a slight pout. Gloves one, Kyoko zero. “I’d say that’s about as good as it gets, then. I’ll bet you they taste even sweeter handmade.”

She rolled her eyes. “Because they’re made with love?”

With one last tug, he tore the package open. “You said it, not me,” he snickered, angling it towards her to let her select whichever stick she liked. He hoped she would avoid commenting on his shaking hands – even if they were shaking the whole package a bit.

Much to his relief, she said nothing. Instead, she carefully pressed a stick between the tips of her fingers, and pulled it from the package. The movement was so precise that he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Often when he pulled pocky from the package, he somehow managed to get all the little broken pieces from the bottom everywhere. Her movements oozed so much more elegance than he could have ever hoped to have. While it evoked jealousy in him sometimes, most days he couldn’t help but be in love with it, just as he was in love with the rest of her. Plus, he did have the victory of opening the outer packaging to hold over her. Sometimes he got to be the elegant one.

That reminder of his love, no matter how small, overwhelmed his mind as his wife placed the pocky between her soft pink lips, delicate features pinched in focus as she moved the stick from her mouth to her teeth. He wondered if the treat or her lips would taste sweeter. He supposed he would have to keep her playing until he could kiss her and find out. Wiping his palms on his jeans one last time, he raised his brows at her as if to ask if she was ready. She raised hers in return, a smile threatening to form on her face. That was all of the indication he needed to lean in and take the cookie stick between his own teeth.

Their gazes locked the moment he bit the other end, violet fixed on olive, both sides twinkling with the same wonder of their high school days. Staring at her now, Makoto could almost picture that first moment they’d had together, when their friends had roped them into the challenge.

Kyoko’s eyes seemed so much more intense back then. They were always sharp due to their unusual colour, but he recalled it feeling so much more focused than any other stare he’d come across. There was always a twinkle of curiosity in them when he spoke to her; a piqued interest he was never sure how he accomplished. Her eyelashes weren’t unusually thick and long, but every blink had been like its own expectation. Their faces so close like that, with her looking right at him, had made his stomach stir with butterflies and his face rush with heat. She certainly wouldn’t have been trying to look so intense, but it was undeniable.

Thinking back to it now, he wondered if she knew how tightly she held her jaw that day. She had to be somewhat light, lest she break the pocky when she hadn’t meant to, but he could see it tremble ever so slightly as she stared. He couldn’t say he blamed her; it was hard to keep it in position when you were so looking forward to something. The joking encouragement from their classmates would have only served as a further distraction and made her falter. He hadn’t known it at the time, yet Aoi’s urges for one of them to take a bite must have been the most intense thing for her. Was her heartbeat thundering in her head like his had been? Were her palms so slick with sweat that her cellphone could slip out of her hand like a bar of soap? She managed to keep her blush down and her breathing straight that day; however, she struggled just as he did. She felt just as he did.

Staring at her now, he reminded himself of that thought. She felt just as he did. And with that thought reigning in his mind, fixated on the image of his gorgeous spouse, Makoto took the first bite.

It wasn’t big by any means. Pathetic is how Byakuya might have described it. Really, it might be better classified as a nibble, but it was a movement forward, and that in itself was something to be proud of. With that alone, he was already getting closer to where he was before – so much closer to beating his high score. That same smile that was teasing Kyoko before returned with a vengeance, and one of her brows quirked jokingly at him. If the pocky game was built for anyone on this earth, then it must have been his Kyoko. A game with sweets and playfully taunting your partner? Just perfect for her, and he could see it in her face as she took her own bite forward.

It was bigger than he thought it’d be. She was far bolder than he, but that was no surprise. As long as they had known each other, that was how it had been. No complaints from him on the matter. That boldness was fairly attractive in its own way, and often prompted him to bring out some of his own. Bite.

A blink of surprise from her told him all he needed to know. With that, they were almost at stage two of the game: a perfection replication of their past. Still, the trembling of his hands would not settle. He found himself clutching at his pantlegs just so he could release some of the tension. Temptation to dart his face away continued to engulf him, but he resisted, focusing on the beauty of his partner’s face and the stick of sweet chocolate between their lips.

Unlike him, Kyoko had no hesitation. She bit back again. And then again, a mischievous glint in her eye betraying her. The succession was just slow enough that he could see her cheekiness; she wanted him to notice. She meant it to be a challenge. A call to action, even. She wanted to push him further to win, biting bigger so that he would, too.

“Sh’you’re very sheeky,” he tried to say through pinched teeth, earning a snort from his wife.

She shrugged exaggeratedly. “I shry to be.”

He bites once more before adding, “I’ve notished.”

That was a move Kyoko wasn’t expecting. He couldn’t say he blamed her. They’d officially reached the point of no return; the point at which Makoto lost so horrifically in his youth. It surprised him a bit, too. Though his hands were shaking and his determination occasionally wavering, Makoto Naegi the boy had become Makoto Naegi the man. He was now ready to become the champion… assuming he could get past this last little bout with his wife, that is. In all honesty, he doubted he would be able to psyche her out enough to get her to pull away… Although maybe the real victory would be earning himself a kiss. He probably would’ve taken that as a win in his teenage years, too.

They went on like this for another few minutes, making the occasional quip in an effort to distract the other as they take the next bite. The nips of pocky they took were sweet on their tongues as they pushed forward, staring into each other’s eyes, making faces and conjuring laughs as they inched closer and closer to one another. There were only about five centimetres of pocky left between them. Neither side was prepared to show mercy.

“You’re not going to shicken out of this, are you?” Kyoko asked, her breath now warm on Makoto’s cheeks. As much as he loved her, it did feel a bit strange, but he endured. He couldn’t give up when he was so close to winning. “I’m impreshed.”

“Shank you.”

“Although I shuppose it’s mush less of a shreat, shince you’ve kisshed me in the pasht.”

He fake-pouted as best he could through his hold. “Don’t minimize my accomplishments.”

“I’m not,” she laughed, “I’m just wondering how hard you might shry to get one.”

“A kish?”

“Yesh, a kish.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to hang on and find out, shen. Unlesh you’re ready to lose?”

“In your shreams.”

Typical. Kyoko could be so stubborn when she wanted to. Not that he minded, of course. At least not now, when he was so close to getting the proper pocky experience he’d been longing for. A kiss would be much more satisfying than a mere victory over her pulling away. The inviting power of her lips prompted him to bite once more, and within seconds, she bit right after. He bit again.

The momentum only continued. Bite after bite, dwindling down into nibble after nibble, until he could feel the brush of her lips against his own. Without a second thought he began to turn his head, careful to avoid the collision of their noses. Kyoko’s eyes fluttered shut in turn. Wherever the pocky stick went between them after this didn’t matter. It was lost to them, as far as Makoto was concerned. All that mattered was the shutting of his own eyes as, with nothing else left to do, he leaned further in, pushing his lips so they rested perfectly against hers. The perfect connection.

No longer a teenager, Makoto knew better than to believe that kissing someone was like fireworks every time. Sometimes it was just more of a pleasant pressure that you missed when it was gone. This was one of those times – but this was no discrediting of it. The sugary stain of pocky on Kyoko’s lips and the feeling of her warmth against his own… it was a connection worth patiently waiting for. He couldn’t help but wonder if she felt the same. Still trembling ever so slightly, his hands reached up to tuck some hair behind her ear and lingered there. It was a cheap tactic to hold her close, he’d admit, but he knew she loved it. In response, she could only drape her arms around his neck, and smile gently into the kiss. Without even an exchange of words, he knew exactly the thought that would be on her mind:

Victory is sweet.

The very same thing was on his.

#danganronpa #makoto naegi #naegi makoto #kirigiri kyoko #kyoko kirigiri #kyouko kirigiri #kirigiri kyouko #naegiri #naegi x kirigiri

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poetic-beats · 2 years

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Feeling very eh idk guess my brain just hates me right now so thats fun….hopefully I’ll be getting an appointment soon with my psych and care co-ordinator or w/e at the new mental health team I’m currently under cos I moved out of area for my old one. So far the new CMHT seems pretty good they’ve said they are going to set in motion a lot of things but now I’m just left waiting to see when that’ll happen. I know some of it is gonna be a long wait list like for therapy but hopefully I’ll be given a psychiatrist and an appointment date set soon they said they were going to refer me for a diagnostic something or other appointment as some of my symptoms sounded like it could be trauma related and potentially ptsd/CPTSD symptoms so and they’re going to do an assessment into my anxiety too so they can get a better idea of how to treat it I suppose. Especially as my old psych never really asked me too many questions about it and never like identified what kind of anxiety disorder I have besides acknowledging my struggles with social stuff and panic attacks he wasn’t all that interested and just said yeah sounds like an anxiety disorder and gave me some meds for my panic attacks which didn’t work and then moved me onto x meds which havent been great so before I did move prescribed me a different drug that I’ve yet to start it tbh as I kinda want a set of fresh eyes to look over everything and re-evaluate my meds before going ahead as he was rather questionable on some things and Im just not 100 on his decisions as some contradicted my very first psych who I saw for yrs before he retired who I did trust. So I’m just a little iffy about it especially because he had a habit of not even listening to me when I was talking about side effects I had or issues and so im just very like not entirely confident in some things.

Anyways so yeah that’s my little life update I guess - things are kinda up in the air I have good days and I have bad days I was doing pretty good up until like maybe two or three days ago so I’m hoping I can break out of this idk I dont wanna call it depression I dont think its like super severe enough to be that but its definitely a low mood with some anxiety sprinkled in right now, but yeah hopefully I can get out of this low mood soon hopefully its not a sign of a relapse into a longer mood shift or something that is going to downward spiral me into a bpd depression which would be a lot worse I don’t want to have a full on bpd depressed breakdown so I’m trying to keep myself occupied. My cute little cat helps hes adorable and he is one of those cats who always wants to be held and I love that because its perfect for me I love that I’ve got a cat I can pick up and hold and give all the attention too. He’s definitely the cutest thing ever.

#erin talks #not poetry #life update I guess #mental health stuff #erin rambles

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chronic-gastro-illness-culture · 2 months

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hello , i would like to request a second opinion related to doctor visits and the sorts if possible , if this doesn't follow up any of the rules or this is too personal of an ask to answer feel free to delete it /gen , some possible cws before i go further : mentions of doctors / tests , food mentions so , last year i had to get some emergency tests done bc the meds i got for my problems didn't help at all , aside from this i was suposed to have regular doctor checkups wayyy before this time but a certain family member has beef with my doctor and usually refuses to take me (i am 19 but i don't have a job at the current moment) a different doctor from my usual one prescribed new meds after this , i only started to take them a few weeks ago bc we couldn't read the doctors handwriting , thing is , i don't really know if they are working :/ , i have been having flare ups again , and some days they have been pretty severe , aside from the meds a family member insists i take this homemade remedy (homemade yogurt) bc someone we know claims it cured them , the issue is that any milk derivates fucking hurt to eat , and this "remedy" is no exception , so for now i am stuck between thinking i should wait more time to see if the meds really work or if i should get a second opinion with my usual doctor (aside from my family insisting the yogurt thing will finally be my cure) , i feel guilty for how much money my issues cost but rn i am almost in too much pain to care , i don't know what to do

im gonna apologize in advanced bc im rlly not that great w ‘delicate’ situations tbh but im gonna be real w u n say that between denying u access to a doc n forcing u to eat food thats a known trigger for u raised hella red flags n sounds like abuse

ik that docs n meds n appt can be hella expensive esp if u dont have proper or any medical insurance but if ur family rlly was only worried abt the cost theyd be working w u to find a remedy that isnt as expensive . instead ur being cut off from someone who can actually help u n r intentionally making u sick w this misguided belief that the homemade yogurt will make u better bc it worked for someone else

if i were u id lay a boundary down- if its safe for u to do so -n say ‘im not eating the yogurt i wanna give the meds a try’ or smth like that bc if ur eating smth that messes w ur guts it will be harder for the meds to work

idk what ur being treated for or what meds ur on but when i got put on protonix for my gerd i also had to change my diet n get rid of food that could trigger reflux that way the meds could work the way theyre supposed to . the same sorta thing works w diabetes n metformin . if someone w diabetes takes metformin they r supposed to watch the sugar n carbs n wtvr they eat n the metformin flushes excess trigger food out . the less of the trigger food a person w diabetes eats the less the pill has to flush out

normally ur supposed to start taking meds n adjust ur diet n after everything heals up or u find a dosage that works u then u start slowly introducing more foods into ur diet w exceptions to trigger foods . but if ur eating trigger foods while trying new meds it would be hard to tell if they r working or not

if u want a 2nd opinion thats up to u theres no harm in getting more opinions n getting more info n more perspectives can help u make a more informed decision when it comes to ur own personal health care . if u trust that doc n feel better w them bc they know ur history w ur digestive disorder then go for it . maybe they can tell u what to expect when it comes to how long the pills take to work what side effects u may have maybe they can find smth cheaper for u to try etc etc

but tbh the rlly alarming thing here is ur family/family member n their behavior . having a chronic illness sux but there is no one who suffers more then the person w the chronic illness . it would be great if there was some magic pill or remedy thatd make it all go away but it isnt . yeah its a pain in the ass . yeah it sux having flare up despite ur best efforts to manage symptoms . yeah it sux to have dietary restrictions n being That Person who has to ask if their food is safe or cooked correctly . yeah its expensive being chronically sick getting meds seeing docs getting tests for diagnosis or just symptom management . but ur family should be there supporting u thru it instead of making u feel guilty n denying u access to a doc n making u eat smth that hurts u .

wtvr u decide to do i hope one or both of ur docs r able to help u find meds that do work . the inbox is always open if u wanna vent or scream into the void or give updates etc etc

#anonymous #digestive disorders #chronic illness #stomach problems #abuse mention

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cnwilks · 5 months

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A little unsolicited advice

I posted this article on my Facebook page in 2020, and it has been shared several times. I've grown accustomed to my posting activity being regarded with great indifference, so it was a pleasant surprise. Here's the full post, preserved for posterity, with some bad grammar fixed.

***

One of my high school classmates made a post last night about buying his teenage daughter her first guitar as a Christmas gift, and might not fully realize what a great gift that it truly is. Here's a little unsolicited advice as my gift to you as we approach the holiday season. Kind of a novel, but it's a subject of great personal importance:

1. Don't buy an instrument at a pawn shop. It used to be a good place to buy musical instruments before the internet, but now they will charge you close to full retail. And people desperate enough to pawn their musical instruments rarely buy quality gear.

2. You get what you pay for(ish). To that point, even if you can afford a really expensive instrument, don't buy one for your children until they've earned it. Most name-brand manufacturers (Fender, DW, Pearl, Ibanez, Zildjian, Sabian) make highly affordable entry-level instruments that are fine to start with and still useful when you get more experienced. If you can only remember one brand name, remember that Yamaha makes almost every instrument, and the cheapest Yamaha anything is incredible. Don't waste your money on off-brand starter sets they sell at Best Buy and other retailers. It will only save you a little, and you won't have a "real" instrument manufactured with pride by a company that doesn't make anything else. My Fender acoustic is the cheapest one they sell, but I wouldn't be remotely embarrassed to hand it to Eric Clapton if he insisted on entertaining my dinner party guests. It sure wouldn't be the first time someone played one of my guitars better than me. On jam night, Tony W Costello Reed played my Classical guitar once, and I said, "Oh, so that's how it's supposed to sound!"

3. Buy your instrument in a music store, preferably locally owned. You'll get a better price ordering online, but you won't get to pick things up and try them out (and most will match online prices in-store, even from a competitor). The people who work in those stores are barely functional at best in all of the areas that count, but they know everything about the gear they sell and want it all. Listen to them.

4. Hold your kids accountable. Music is a "get to" and not a "got to," but much more enjoyable if done well and approached as a craft. They should have fun but also spend time on the stuff that's not fun until it is. You can learn to play G, C, and D on guitar in seconds and theoretically play 80% of all popular music ever written. But you must play each one millions of times to truly learn them. Learning a new instrument sucks at first, and it's hard to stay motivated. That's why your kids need to commit to a reasonable amount of time practicing (or engaging in music-related activity) each day and stick with it no matter what. 5-10 minutes is enough. They can and should play more each day, but never less. There will be days when they absolutely can't bear the thought of practicing. Those are the days to get a cloth and wipe down their instrument, change their strings, organize their sheet music folder, download the tab for a new song, or watch a tutorial. Even listening to a song counts as practice. There will come a day when they won't be able to put their instrument down, but most people have years of complete suck in them before they can even really start learning. I had been in the middle school band for over two years before I got my first drum set, and it was a year and a half before I could get all four limbs to work together. That's why discipline is so important. They're learning a craft and have to put the reps in. Jimi sucked once too.

5. Music should never be used or taken away as punishment. When your kids inevitably ground themselves, make them clean your gutters and take away their cell phones. But they should never be denied access to their instrument or any other means of creative expression under any circumstances. There are plenty of things that you can take away that they will miss much more, but you should always encourage them to express their anger through song and other constructive ways. Or, better yet, employ reverse psychology. Tell them that it would really piss you off if they were to write a funny song about what squares that you and your spouse are and turn their mediocre rap talent into a smash hit TV show, a tremendous film career, Scientology, and a drop dead gorgeous wife who publicly rationalizes cheating on you on talk shows. They'll love their guitar or keyboard more than playing Pokemon or Among Us if they think they're using it to rebel against you, and the only drawback is that your kids' friends might think you're lame. But they already do. And you are. And that's okay. You gave up trying to be cool long ago, and they will, too, one day. But parenting means letting them feel good about themselves for a little bit until life beats them down.

6. Be patient as they learn. My parents clearly didn't find my drums as fascinating as I did, but they provided them and always let me play them as loudly as I wanted. They just turned up the TV while I was practicing and could do so to my heart's content until 10:00. It clearly didn't break their hearts when we moved band practice over to the Babb compound for a while, but I now realize that it was merely enough to tolerate us. You're going to hear sounds that can only be compared to sacks of drowning kittens and hyenas being simultaneously castrated and skinned alive for a very long time. The paint is going to peel off your walls, and your plants are going to die. You will pine for the sounds of your neighbor's leaf blower on some days. Your home will likely be visited by hordes of looking youth carrying additional noisemakers, that they will play badly as a group, and several more who will be there to watch them. They're going to park piece of shit cars in front of your house, and you're going to spend the GDP of a developing country on Cokes and Doritos. But it's all part of a bigger plan. Children who learn music tend to pursue more education and maintain more of a global focus. They tend to be around more interesting people. The skills translate to other things and lead to a more well-rounded kid. They will be much more sensitive, confident, compassionate, and better decision-makers. Buying them instruments now will mean that they will vote for the right candidates, climb the career ladder, and eventually choose a better nursing home for you.

Finally, do not ever hesitate to ask the musicians in your life for help or be afraid to inconvenience them. They are dying to share their expertise with you and your kids. I've always got your back on anything drum-related, and know enough to be dangerous about most other instruments. Even if I don't like you, I won't let you get ripped off.

#music #musical instruments

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