#wanted to play around with ma marker

[lazy-b1rdy]

Dropping a few more fire narrator doodles on you guys :3

(heheh adventure time reference)

I was so tired yesterday that i had no idea how to draw him lol

[kiwanopie]

Meeting a Beautiful Fan

w/sakusa kiyoomi, bokuto kotarou, and atsumu miya

fluff. 1k wc. rip to fictional friend aiko.

♡ Sakusa Kiyoomi

“Um, hello.”

“Hey….Hi.”

“Are you Sakusa Kyoomi?”

“Yeah, that’s-“ This is an angel. He’s looking at an angel right now. “That’s me.”

“Oh! Okay,” You nod, gesturing at the matching jersey in your hand. “If you’re not too busy, can you sign this jersey?”

Sakusa nods silently and reaches for the shirt, nearly swallowing his tongue as his fingers brush with yours. “Who should I… make it out to?”

“Oh um - if you can, can you just wish my friend a happy birthday? Her name’s Aiko.”

“Oh, this is a gift.” He sounds impassive but that’s because he’s having a meltdown on the inside. “‘Was wondering why I haven’t seen you at any of the games.”

“Yeah, my friend’s a huge fan but she’ll be overseas until next year so, I came and got some souvenirs to send her.” He nods at the explanation, but nearly overheats when you continue. “But your plays were amazing, this being the first time I’m seeing them in person. I can see why she’s such a big fan.”

“Thank you. I uh..” He glances around. “I appreciate it.”

“Uh no, thank you-“

“Wait there a sec- Miya!”

Atsumu looks over and trots to him with a smile, bouncing the novelty foam ball in his hand and nearly dropping it once he’s got a glance at the dime standing in front of his teammate.

“Heya there, angel-“

“Can I have that?” He points to the ball.

Atsumu immediately catches on. “Oh, sure thing! Here, gorgeous, ya want me ta sign it-“

“No.” Sakusa takes it out of his hand and scribbles on it with his pen. “Here, uh… keep this for yourself.”

“Hm? Oh.” You reach for the ball and Atsumu nearly croons at the sound of your voice. He nearly says something to, if not for the clear call of dibs drilling holes in his head as Sakusa side eyes him.

You smile and it’s straight out of a day dream. “I appreciate it, thank you.”

Sakusa nods as you side-step your way out of the line and they both wave back at you as you walk away.

Atsumu smacks his teeth. “There she goes, ma future wife walking off with your number.”

Sakusa elbows him.

♡ Bokuto Kotarou

“Uh, are you Bokuto?” A voice inquires softly behind him.

Kotarou turns with a gleeful smile to address the fan standing behind him. Smiling widely as he cheers from the deeper portion of his chest. “Hey, Hey….H-Hey!”

Holy shit.

You return his grin with a closed mouth smile as you bow, hardly paying any mind to the way his grin slowly falls into a disbelieving gape. “Nice to meet you.”

“Y-…Yeah, it really is!” He stammers a bit nervously. “Nice to meet you, I mean. It’s- It’s really nice to meet you too!”

You snicker somewhat and his chest caves in.

“That’s great!” Your attempt to exclaim with him is poor and a little cut off by the sheer silliness of trying to match his energy but it’s cute regardless. He barely registers the jersey in your hand, too busy planning out what your wedding reception is gonna look like.

“Is it okay if I ask you to sign this?” You simper.

Ko takes it out of your hand with an eager few nods. “Yeah! Of course!” He whips out his marker. “And what’s the pretty girl’s pretty name?”

“Oh, it’s- Well this is actually a gift for my friend, Aiko. Who’s a huge fan. But I’m-…My name’s ____.” You stumble a bit.

He nearly croons. Are you nervous? He’s the one staring at the girl of his dreams right now! Ah, and you’re such a good friend! Going out of your way to get your friend a gift like this! He swears he’d swoon over you if he could.

“Yeah? Birthday?” You nod as he regains a bit of his composure. “Cool. Cool. And are uh… are you a fan?”

“Me? Oh, this is actually my first game.” You admit. “But it was really fun watching you play. Your…line shots? I think? They’re super duper cool!” You beam up at him, he nearly clenches his heart in duress.

Ko gasps. “Thank you!! Sometimes I forget how to do ‘em!!” The two of you giggle a little together. “But I’m flattered regardless! Think after this match you’ll become a regular?”

You shrug. “Maybe. If I can find some time between school work.”

“College student?” You give him an affirming hum. “That’s really cool. Well - Hey, I’d like to see you again regardless?”

He rips a thin sheet of signing paper from the table beside him and bends to jot his phone number on it before folding it a couple times.

Ko turns back to you and somehow you’re even cuter than you were when he first looked at you. “If that’s… alright? Maybe we can catch a drink or something later?”

You give him a bit of a disbelieving smile but take it regardless. Belatedly he realizes what a small chance it was that you’d even be single. “O-Oh! Yeah sure that’d be great.”

Ko smiles excitedly, like he’s won twice today. “Great! Well, I’ll uh- I’ll talk to you later?”

“Definitely.” You smile, and he’s floating on cloud 9 as you start to walk away. “Bye!”

“Bye-Bye!”

♡ Atsumu Miya

Atsumu’s smile wavers when you shuffle into the front of the line but only because he’s a little too surprised to remain cordial. It’s not every day that your dream girl shows up in line to ask you for an autograph.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” He immediately grabs the foam ball to the left of him. “Didn’t know they let angels in here?”

You smile a little at his quip but you aren’t as affected by it as he’d like you to be. “Ah, that’s very kind of you, Miya-san. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, gorgeous.” His chair creaks as he stands up, and he cradles the toy between his elbow as he reaches for the novelty plushie in your hand. “So, who am I makin’ it out to?”

“My friend, Aiko? It’s her birthday.” You shift on your heels as he signs the doll. “She’s a huge fan. I really wanted to surprise her.”

“Yeah? That’s awful sweet of ya.” He smiles. You glow under the gym lights, he doesn’t know if it’s the afterglow of success or just the sheer desirability you exude that’s making you so painfully attractive to him right now. “What’s Aiko’s friend's name is what I really wanna know?”

“Me? Oh, my name’s ____.”

“Figures.” He tuts. “It fits ya, pretty.”

Atsumu bounces the ball sitting in the crook of his arm down to his palms as he hands you back the toy, quickly scribbling a little note on it before you can get the chance to thank him for his signature.

“Hey,” He leans in hushedly, you follow his lead, “It’s gonna kill me if I miss a chance like this, so here.” Atsumu sneaks the ball into your hands. “If you’re available?”

You glance at his handwriting on the ball and smile abashedly. The little giggle you let out makes his face hot. “Yeah? Sure thing.”

“A’right!” He leans back cheerfully, waving you off before the rest of his fans can catch on. “See ya later then, sweetpea.”

You smile as he twiggles his fingers at you from the stand, watching you disappear into the crowd even as his next fan stands in front to receive their own signature.

The ball crunches slightly against your wandering fingers.

“Your future boyfriend, Tsumu. <3 xxx-xxx-xxx.”

reblog = 1 prayer for aiko 😔

[hunnysnoops]

Main Three + Craig with morbid/odd reader

“I want love to change my friends to enemies and tell me how it’s all my fault.”

Stan:

He lets you draw on him but instead of doodling you take a black marker and start to meticulously draw dotted lines and arrows like you’re a surgeon prepping him for cosmetic surgery.

While helping him with farm chores you go into detail about how you can compost and break down a corpse in soil, he just kinda nods along.

You give him tarot readings every week. He thought they were fake and just did it to entertain you until his week played out exactly like you said it would. When he realized he just froze up and went non verbal.

Stan- “Hey, do you have any spells to curse my dad?”

Met him when he was in his goth era.

The two of you were having a moment in the rain when you told him that he should’ve worn shoes with rubber soles in case he gets struck by lightning.

You started writing his eulogy when you were laying in bed together, bro was trying not to freak out. Just spam texted Kyle.

You’re date idea is taking him to an abandoned house.

You guys bonded over music. Now you help him write songs since you’re so used to writing poetry.

Reader- “You’re into music?”

Stan- “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reader- “Have you heard Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: Aquarium composed by Camille Saint-Saëns and performed by Philippe Entremont, Gaby Casadesus, and Yo-Yo Ma?”

Stan- “Can’t say I have.”

Kyle:

Has veiny arms so when the two of you are just chilling you’ll put your finger on one of the veins and start talking about what would happen if you severed it. He’s lowkey interested from a scientific standpoint.

You’ll straddle his hips and pull his lips back to look at his teeth, poking around in his mouth like a dentist. You’re inches apart.

Reader- “Wow, you have beautiful teeth.”

Kyle- “Thank you?”

He’s kinda fascinated by you but also repulsed by some of the things you do/say.

He came to your house and you were butchering your own meat, left right away.

You listen to The Cure together.

When you climb trees to look for birds and squirrels he’ll climb too to help you.

Will get mad annoyed after listening to you say incredibly out of pocket things while he’s trying to focus on something.

He’ll buy you little knickknacks that remind him of you.

Before he got to know you, he talked mad shit.

Sometimes gets super freaked out by your behaviour, you straight up give him the heebie-jeebies.

Reader- “So this is my collection of human teeth.”

Kyle- “All of those are yours, right?”

Reader- “Actually, none of them are mine.” 😁

Kyle- 😨

Kenny:

Sits through horror movies and weird foreign films with you. He didn’t like it at first but he came around and started sourcing out movies he’d think you like.

You took him to a Wicca ceremony and he had the time of his life.

You taught him how to make flower crowns and now he makes them all the time. He likes to give them to Karen.

When he sees something off-putting or creepy he will immediately take a picture and send it to you.

Reader- “Hey, it’s raining. Do you want to go look for earth worms and build a worm colosseum?”

Kenny- “Hell yeah.”

He likes to go for walks in the forest with you, you guys will look for bugs and pick them up or make them houses of leaves and twigs.

He’ll help you wash the skulls/bones you find.

Never really minded that you were weird, he approached you first because he thought you were hot.

He loves when you play with his hair and tie little braids into it.

You guys tried to recreate The Blair Witch Project but failed miserably when you actually got lost in the woods.

You’ll meet up at the graveyard and just sit in the grass while you talk about ghosts and ghouls. Sometimes you’ll walk around and stop at a specific grave and guess how they died.

Reader- “Would you rather be in Cannibal Holocaust or The Poughkeepsie Tapes?”

Kenny- “Erm, I gotta pick The Poughkeepsie Tapes.”

Craig:

Generally goes along with whatever you want to do.

Reader- “Can we go down to the riverbank to pickup fish heads and then eat out their eyes?”

Craig- “Yeah, sure.”

He’ll just watch you roll around in the mud or set little twig piles on fire, he won’t join in but he also won’t interfere.

You’ll talk to Stripe, not in the baby voice that people usually use to talk to animals but your tone will be dead serious like you’re talking to a grown adult.

The two of you will watch true crime documentaries together.

He’ll fuck up anyone who calls you weird or a freak.

When you’re out in public, you’ll point someone out and predict how they’re going to die.

There’s nothing you can do that’ll shock him, he’s unfazed by everything that you say.

Sometimes gets concerned with you around Stripe.

You’ll disappear for hours at a time and he’ll get worried, sending you a million texts then you’ll randomly show up at his door soaking wet or covered in dirt with no warning.

Craig- “Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.”

Reader- “I was meeting with a friend of mine who is alive.”

Craig- “Oh, that’s cool.”

Requests are open! I’m working through a couple right now. Thanks to the anon who requested this.

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

R. I. P Y/n's Mr. Sketch markers

Crack fic with the best demon boys ever. Mc name is Yuki and is gender neutral, Yuki is not you. Yuki is also human.

Key: Lucifer

Mammon

Levi

Satan

Asmo

Beel

Belphie

Yuki

Y/n

..................................

Y/n: *In their room coloring with the Mr. Sketch markers Solomon got them because they talked about it, taking every five seconds to smell the good scents. avoiding the black marker like the plague. Suddenly leaving because they got hungry to grab a snack.* Just gonna pick up a quick snack. *leaves the door open. BIG MISTAKE*

~~~5 minutes later~~~

Y/n: *comes back to their room after their snack seeing their markers were touched. They think nothing of it and continue to color noticing that the tips had bight marks on them* WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY MARKERS??

Mammon: *Runs in concerned after hearing Y/n screaming* What's wrong??

Y/n: *pouts feeling really angry* Someone ate my FUCKING MARKERS!

Mammon: *Confused* Why would you be so upset over markers?

Y/n: THATS THE PART YOU FIXATE ON?? *grabs mammon and storms out of the room*

Mammon: The hell you taking me? *feeling annoyed*

Y/n: You volunteered yourself to help me find who ate my very special markers Solomon got me.

Mammon: *feels a bit jealous that something so simple made Y/n happy especially since it was from Solomon* Can't ya just get more?

Y/n: No Mammon I can't. Unless you have a secret portal to the human world that doesn't need Lucifer or Diovolo's permission to use it.

Mammon: *shivers at Y/n's tone and grumbles* Fine I'll help you.

~~~In the lounge~~~

Belphie, Beel, and Yuki: *Playing a card game with eachother*

Asmo: *painting his nails*

Satan: *reading a novel he is invested in*

Levi: *Playing his hand held gaming console*

Yuki: *Looks up from the card game and looks around* Where's Mammon? And Y/n?

Asmo: *not looking up from his painted nails* I saw Y/n coloring in their room! They seemed pretty excited about the markers they got from Solomon.

Satan: Why would Y/n be excited about markers?

Yuki: *Thinking about when Y/n told them about the markers and giggles* I think it's from the human world

Levi: What's so interesting about human world markers?

Yuki: *Was about to speak but got interupted by Y/n*

Everyones attention is now on Y/n and Mammon who was behind them looking horrified as Y/n kicked the door open.

Asmo: Hey Y/n! How ar-

Y/n: SHHSHSHSHH *shushng asmo*. Alright who did it?

Satan: Did what? *looking confused chuckling at Mammon's face*

Y/n: Which one of you mother fuckers ate *dramatically opens the scented marker* MY FUCKING MARKERS??

Everyone: *looks at the marker scared at Y/ns rage then to Beel who seemed to be unaffected*

Beel: Why's everyone looking at me?

Yuki: Beel, did you eat Y/n's special markers?

Beel: *Looks at Y/n glaring at him then to Yuki then to Belphie* No..

Y/n: *walks up to Beel and opens his mouth to see his teeth covered in ink* You did!

Mammon and Levi: *Laughing*

Beel: *looks down feeling guilty* I'm sorry Y/n, they just smelled really good...

Y/n: *sits down next to Yuki and Beel, and sighs. Brings their knees to their chest as everyone looked at Y/n* It's okay Beel..

Asmo: *Looks at Y/n* Is everything okay Y/n?

Y/n: *Doesn't look up at Asmo* Yes..

Satan: *Looks at Y/n with concern* You don't seem okay.

Y/n: *Stays silent*

Beel: *Hugs Y/n* We can ask Solomon to get you another set.

Mammon: *interupts the hug* Nuh uh no huggin Y/n. And why are these markers so important to ya anyway?

Y/n: *Still is silent, burying their face into their knees*

Yuki: *Looks at Mammon* Maybe because those markers were the only new thing Y/n had from the human realm after a while?

Yuki & Mammon: *Slightly arguing with everyone's attention on them*

Beel: *Picks up Y/n secretly and carries them out of the room with Belphie following*

Y/n: Where are we going? *looks up at Beel*

Beel: Getting you new markers. And Belphie wanted to come.

Y/n: *waves at Belphie*

Belphie: *waves back*

The three walk away.

Mammon: *Runs out of the lounge room chasing after the three* Hey! Bring Y/n back here god damn it!

Lucifer: *stands behind Mammon with a raging aura* Why is there all this yelling Mammon?

Mammon: *Scared* Eep..

And so Y/n got their makers back, invited Belphie and Beel to color with them and Beel learned not to eat markers even when they smell good

[thelastspeecher]

Re: foster ford au prompts -

- pregnancy announcement from angie and Stan, how do molly and deaged ford react

- Molly and angie bonding gardening scene

- Stan being an amazing foster dad/uncle and deaged ford realizing that he was wrong for thinking negatively about Stan for so long

What do you think?

I went with Door #1. Hope you like it!

———————————————————————————————————–

              Ten-year-old Ford and eleven-year-old Molly sat on the couch, waiting for Stan and Angie to get back.  Their guardians had informed them of a “big surprise”, but it got derailed when Angie rushed off to the bathroom to be very audibly sick.

              “She’s been sick a lot lately,” Molly remarked.  Ford nodded.  He had a sneaking suspicion about the cause of Angie’s illness but was hoping he was wrong.

              Fingers crossed this surprise has to do with my birthday coming up, rather than what I think it might truly be about.

              “She went to the doctor a couple weeks ago, so at the very least she’ll be getting treatment,” he said to his biological niece/adoptive sister.

              “Yeah,” Molly mumbled.  Finally, Angie and Stan returned from the bathroom.  Angie was even paler than usual, but she seemed excited.  “What’s going on?”

              “Well…” Angie drawled.  She handed Molly an envelope.  Molly opened it, pulling out something Ford recognized.  “Tada!”

              “…What is it?” Molly asked.

              “It’s an ultrasound picture,” Ford said dully.  He looked at Stan and Angie.  “You’re having a baby.”

              “Nope!” Angie said cheerfully.  She pointed at the two white blobs circled in red marker on the picture.  “We’re having two.”

              “Twins?” Ford whispered.  Angie nodded happily.  Stan put his arm around her shoulders, beaming.

              “It’s probably ‘cause we took so long to get started,” he joked.  “We’ve gotta catch up, y’know?”

              “Yeah…”  Molly frowned.  “Uh, are we gonna have to help with the babies?”

              “Oh, no!” Angie said, shaking her head.  “No!  Only help if ya want to.”

              “Okay.”  Molly grinned.  “Then I’m happy for you guys!”

              “Think you’re up to the task of being a big sister?” Stan asked.

              “Well, I’m already Ford’s big sister, so I’ve got practice,” Molly said.  She smirked at Ford.  “Ford, though, he’s gonna be a big brother for the first time.”  Ford made a noncommittal noise.

              “Ford, you haven’t said much,” Angie said, sounding nervous.  She played with her hands.  “How- how are ya feelin’?”

              “Honestly?” Ford said.  He shook his head.  “Not happy.”

              “Ford,” Stan hissed urgently.

              “She asked!” Ford snapped.  “I’m not happy you’ll be having not one, but two babies that are gonna scream all the time and take up all your attention and- and-”

              -delay returning me to my proper age!  But Molly still didn’t know who Ford really was, so he couldn’t say that in front of her.  Instead, he stammered to a stop.  Molly and Stan glared at him, while Angie seemed near tears.  She removed Stan’s arm from her shoulders.

              “Ang…” Stan said.  Angie shook her head.

              “No, just- I-,” she choked out.  She raced out of the living room.  A few moments later, the sound of her vomiting yet again carried from the bathroom.  Stan muttered a swear under his breath and went after her.  Molly turned to Ford.

              “Ford, what the hell was that?” she demanded, crossing her arms.  Ford crossed his as well.

              “They wanted to know my opinion.”

              “I know you’re socially dumb, but you’re not that socially dumb,” Molly said firmly.  “You know better than to say something so stupid and mean!  Especially when Ma’s been sick!”

              “Yeah, and the babies are the reason she’s sick,” Ford retorted.  “It’s called morning sickness.  And it’s supposed to be worse with twins, too.”

              “So?  The cause doesn’t matter!  What matters is how she feels!”  Molly shook her head.  “You think I like babies?  No!  But Ma and Dad are excited, and we’re not gonna be responsible for the babies, so I don’t see the point in being upset.”

              “Big talk coming from someone who’s been upset with me, just for spending time with Uncle Stan,” Ford muttered.  Molly punched his shoulder roughly.  She liked to do so playfully, but this time, it was very obviously mean-spirited.  “Ow.”

              “You’re being a dick.”

              “Don’t let Aunt Angie hear you say that.”

              “I think Dad would back me up, with how rude you’re being right now,” Molly said.  She got off the couch.  “I’m gonna go check on Ma.”  As she walked away, Ford felt bad.

              I shouldn’t have been so harsh on Angie.  Like Molly said, she’s not feeling well.  It’s not right to kick someone while they’re down.  He sighed softly and got off the couch.  Way to go, Stanford.  He headed for his bedroom.  Unfortunately, his bedroom was past the bathroom, and as he walked in front of the doorway, Stan, sitting on the floor next to the toilet with Angie, caught sight of him.  Stan patted Angie’s back and muttered something to her.  Angie nodded silently.  Stan got up.

              “Ford,” he said flatly.  Ford winced.  “Let’s talk in your room.”

              “Okay,” Ford mumbled.  He and Stan walked to his room.  When they entered the room, Ford went over to his bed and sat down.  Stan closed the door.  He crossed his arms.

              “Think before you speak,” Stan hissed.  “Angie feels like crap already.  She doesn’t need your bad attitude on top of it.”

              “I admit, I was harsher than I should have been in the moment,” Ford said.  Stan glowered.  “I do apologize.”

              “Good.  When we’re done talking, you’re gonna apologize to Angie, too.”

              “Of course.”  Ford clenched his hands into fists.  “But can you really blame me for being upset?  It’s difficult as it is to find time to research what happened to me.  After almost seven years, we’re no closer to returning me to my proper age!”

              “Yeah.  Seven years.  Five and a half of those were spent with me and Angie,” Stan said firmly.  “You have no idea how much time and money we’ve poured into taking care of you and trying to get you back to normal.  We’ve held off on having kids for way longer than we wanted to already.  We’re not putting our life on hold any longer.”

              “Yes, but-”

              “Angie and I already figured it out,” Stan said.  He still sounded frustrated, but had calmed down from the initial surge of anger.  “The only time of year we can really look into what happened to you is the summer anyways.  The babies are supposed to be born in June.”

              “I highly doubt you’ll want to travel with two newborns,” Ford scoffed.

              “That’s why Angie will stay home while you and I go to Gravity Falls.  One of her siblings will come help with the babies, then we come back with whatever we found in Gravity Falls.”

              “Her family will be irate with you for abandoning your recently post-partum wife.”

              “Not if our traumatized nephew needs special attention because he’s feeling jealous of the babies,” Stan said pointedly.  Ford cocked his head.

              “You really figured this all out?”

              “Well, Angie did most of it.  When the doc confirmed she was pregnant, she wanted to make sure we had all our bases covered when it came to you.  She worries about making sure everyone’s happy.”

              “Yes, she does,” Ford mumbled.  His head drooped.  “I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?”

              “Yeah.”  Stan sighed.  He walked over to the bed and sat next to Ford.  “But you’re also a kid.”

              “I’m not a-” Ford started.

              “You’re not as much of an adult as you think you are,” Stan interrupted.  “You’re becoming more of a kid as time goes on.”

              “I’ve noticed that my maturity seems to be decreasing,” Ford reluctantly said.  It was part of the reason he was so eager to return to his proper age.

              “Which is why I’m gonna cut you some slack,” Stan said.  He scowled at Ford.  “Not too much slack, though.  Kid or not, you should’ve known better than to behave like that.”  Ford nodded.

              “Fair,” he conceded.  “So, what will be my punishment?”

              “Angie’s been feeling too sick to do a lotta her chores around the house.  You’re gonna help her until the babies stop playing soccer with her guts,” Stan said.  Ford nodded again.  Stan got up.  “Ford…”

              “Yes?”

              “If we weren’t in this situation where I had to adopt you ‘cause you’re a kid and everything, how would you feel about me and Angie having kids?”

              “I’d be thrilled,” Ford said.  Stan smiled.  “You’ve wanted to be a father since we were children.  It’s high time you had the opportunity to nurture someone from birth.”  Stan clapped a hand on Ford’s shoulder.

              “Glad to hear it.  ‘Cause once you’re back to normal, my kids are gonna need to spend lotsa quality time with their Uncle Ford.  You owe me some free babysitting.  Big time.”

              “Yes, yes, once I’ve returned to my proper age, I’ll be more than happy to babysit.  But until then…”  Ford raised an eyebrow.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “I’m not gonna make you change diapers or whatever.  You’re ten.  I don’t trust ten-year-olds with babies!”

              “I’ll be eleven soon,” Ford pointed out.

              “Yeah, we’ll figure out stuff for your birthday party,” Stan said.  Angie vomited loudly again.  Stan sighed.  “But it’ll have to be later.  Right now, I’ve gotta go take care of my puking wife.”

[cha0ticspacebi]

You've Got Desire, So Let It Out: Chapter 6

You love your job. Being a teacher is what you've always wanted to do. But being in charge all day can be draining. You are looking for someone to take that control away for a while. When Robin and Steve set you up with Eddie, an old friend from high school, sparks fly! One day you ask Eddie to come volunteer in your classroom and he's more than happy to oblige. But what happens when the inevitable discipline issue arises and you have to use your teacher voice in front of him for the first time? Let's just say Eddie enjoys it a bit too much.

☆Tags: 21+ MDNI, switch Eddie Munson, switch reader, BDSM, kinky sex, choking, dirty talk, dom/sub, impact play, bratting, degradation, praise, humiliation, restraints, mean dom Eddie, overstimulation, orgasm control

Chapter 6/12 ☆ Previous chapter → Next chapter

☆ You can find me over on A03 as Cha0ticBi ☆ Master list link! ☆

The next day you and Eddie drove together. Getting him up that early was a bit of a challenge but the cup of coffee and cigarette you handed him first thing definitely helped. You got ready as normal and then when time came to head out, Eddie happily followed.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the help but, are you sure you want to spend the whole day with us?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do! I’ve always sorta wondered what teachers do before the students get there. When I was younger I thought that teachers lived in the school,” both of you laughed.

“It’s really not that exciting. One year I was asked where my bed was and they were shocked when I told them it was in my house. I mean I guess I understand where they get that from. I’m always in the classroom before they arrive and they’re all gone before I leave.”

Once he was more awake Eddie got more excited. The parking lot was all but deserted when you arrived and he got confused, “Where is everyone?”

“I like getting here early to get ready for the day. That way I don’t have to stay late and do it the night before,” you leaned over the center council before getting out and kissed him, “Gives me more time to spend afterwards with you sir.”

He grabbed your chin and kissed you again, ”You’re incredible you know that. I’ve seriously never met someone who works this hard. So what’s on the agenda today sweetheart?” 

“Nothing special, just a typical day here in second grade,” You poured over all the details of your schedule with him as the two of you walked through the dark hallways. Being the ones to flick the lights on as you headed for the office. 

“Welcome to the life of a teacher Eddie, I check my mailbox, today I’m leaving a note telling the office that I will send a student down later for your visitor’s pass, then I head to my classroom to get ready for the day. Sometimes I get real wild and crazy and head to the lounge to make copies or sit on my phone for 15 minutes while our ancient laminator heats up,” the two of you shared a laugh as he followed you down the hallway and into your classroom. 

“Wow it’s kinda different in here without all the little nuggets,” he looked around, being nosey, investigating all the things he didn’t get a chance to look at the last time he was here.

You finished tucking your bag and coat in the cabinet and went about your daily tasks, “Here Eddie,” you handed him a stack of papers, “Put one of these at every seat for me please.”

“Yes ma’– princess,” you smiled at his quick correction.

After he finished the task you gave him, he resumed his investigations and ended up just watching you as you wrote some weird sentences on the board. He titled his head standing behind you as wrote with various colorful dry erase markers, “I can explain why addition and subtraction strategies work? What the hell– shit, crap! What the heck is this?”

You laughed with the marker still in your hand, “ The man thinks that by writing down what the students will be able to do following each lesson will somehow help them absorb the information better. It’s nice for my planning purposes and helps to a certain extent but I think being forced to put so much emphasis on it makes it seem, I don’t know, less genuine? To be honest sometimes I forget they are up here but I make sure to change them daily just in case my principal walks in.”

He hugged you, preventing you from continuing your work, “That’s my rebel girl, stick it to the man!” He looked back at your board, “Shit I don’t even think I could explain why adding and subtracting works. When I was in school they just said It works because I said so now sit down!”

You nodded as you freed one arm from his embrace, just enough to continue, “Yeah school has changed quite a bit since you and I were students.” 

Next he looked at your schedule, “Why are math and reading on here twice?”

You had moved on to the new task of writing your agenda for the day on the board, “So the ones labeled just math and reading are my typical lessons and the yellow ones are groups. During those times I’ll have you sitting over there working with 4 or 5 students playing a game.” You checked the clock, “So at 7:50 I will go down and pick them up and then the fun begins!”

The class was so excited when they saw that Mr. Eddie had returned. It took a little extra love to get them to calm down but the morning managed to stay on schedule for the most part. First up was math. After that was reading. Once your lesson was finished, you explained that Mr. Eddie would be playing a sight word game with a small group during centers before lunch. You had one of the students hand him a box that looked like a popcorn bucket with thick cardboard cutouts shaped like popcorn pieces inside, each with a word written on the back. 

At this point in the year, the students were generally familiar with the routine. Some students got their computers for some independent work and others headed to various corners of the room to begin their tasks. You opted to use the second pair of hands to get some testing done so once all the students were settled you began calling them one by one to your table quizzing them on their ability to skip count or read sight words. 

Eddie had 4 students with him and you couldn’t help but grin as you heard him explaining the rules of the game.

“Alright rockstars are you ready to play?” They all excitedly said yes!

He was so gentle when he could tell one of them was having trouble, “There you go. Sound it out,” he whispered the sounds of the word always, “Great! Ok now it’s Melanie’s turn. Oh man! POP! That’s a bummer kiddo, you lost all those words you worked so hard for. Not every song is a hit though. You’ll totally get 'em with the next one.”

You finished up with the student you were currently testing and checked the time, “Ready to rock?”

The class stopped what they were doing and all looked at you, “Ready to roll!”

Eddie was the only one making any noise as he gasped, “Is that new? I love it!” He was talking with the students at his table, a fuzzy feeling stirred in your heart as you watched your students scold Eddie for talking when everyone was supposed to be quiet.

“Alright class, clean up and begin getting ready for lunch.”

“Lunch?” Eddie whined, “Already? I wanted to keep playing the game.”

The girl he’d been helping raised her hand, “Can we keep playing the game with Mr. Eddie during recess?”

You looked out the window, “Are you sure? It’s nice today so we were going to go out for recess.”

She looked up at Eddie, they shared an unspoken moment and both nodded, “We can play again another time.”

After dropping the class off in the lunchroom you and Eddie headed back for a brief moment of quiet. Once the door was closed he collapsed in the chair, “Whew! They have so much energy. They are making me feel like an old man.” He laughed as the swivel chair spun softly with the movement of his legs. 

“You are an old man. Look at you! You’re almost 30,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you handed him the lunch you’d packed for him.

“Careful sweetheart, spending the entire day with me means more opportunities for your bratty ass to get in trouble.”

You leaned across the table you were sharing and got close to his ear, “Bring it on big boy.”

Alone, lunch time always goes by too fast. With Eddie it seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Soon you were walking down the hall to collect the students again and then having them grab their coats for recess. You told Eddie he could stay inside if he wanted but he was already way ahead of you, practically outside before you even got to the door. 

“Hey check this out!” He stood next to the jungle gym, “This thing has to be a safety hazard! It was here when I was a kid, I used to climb all over this thing but now I’m practically taller than the slide!”

“Mr. Eddie!” One of the boys ran up to him carrying a neon orange football from your recess basket, “Will you play catch with us?”

Now you and Eddie had only been together for just about 7 months but you’ve learned quite a bit about him in that time. Family was a pretty touchy subject for you both. One night Eddie shared that part of himself with you. Neither his father or mother were around much when he was a kid and what few memories he had of both of them were tainted with the smell of drugs and alcohol. While the other dads were teaching their boys to fish or play ball, not Eddie’s. His dad treated the days with Eddie like a chore that was so despised it was shoved to the bottom of the list every time. But the way Eddie’s eyes lit up when your student asked him that question and handed him that ball? It sets your heart on fire and your eyes water. 

“Yeah kid, I’d love to,” he grabbed the ball that was outstretched in his direction and you watched as a circle formed around him. Soon all but a few of your students were playing catch with him.

The other second grade class joined you shortly after that for their outdoor recess. Ms. Smith, one of the only teachers you actually enjoyed having conversations with, walked up to you.

“So I take it things with rocker boy are going well?”

You smile, “Really well actually. He looks like a menace to society but he’s actually a sweetheart. He came in today to help out just because he wanted to give me an extra hand.”

“I was in the staff lounge earlier and overheard a couple people who needed to mind their business talking crap. You know the whole, I don’t know why he’s even allowed to be here. Do the parents know she has a satanic cult leader volunteering in her room? I told them if he completed the volunteer paperwork and passed the background check then they needed to mind their own business.”

“Thank you, I know he’d appreciate that.”

“Whoa! Oh man. Sorry kids, my bad,” Eddie, of course not knowing his own strength, tossed the ball over the fence. The two of you watched as he hurried over to the fence and climbed over it. Before you could tell him that you had a key to the gate he was already on the other side tossing the ball back to the group and effortlessly hopping back over to the other side. 

“Wow,” Ms. Smith nudged your arm, “He’s got some muscles!”

You blushed, “You have no idea.”

The afternoon consisted of math groups, followed by science and social studies before today’s special which was art. It also brought about the time of day in which the students focus and attention started to fade into the distance.

After getting them settled post recess you explained what they’d be doing for math groups today, “The red and orange groups will be on their computers. Yellow group will be playing an addition and subtraction game with Mr. Eddie. The green group will be with me and finally the blue group will be using the math bins I’ve set out on the carpet. Show me 2 thumbs up if you know where you’re going and what you’re doing when you get there!”

Everyone including you and Eddie held both thumbs up. Eddie put his right up to his temples mimicking horns. You set a timer with calming music for them to help manage their time and then set to work. As soon as you sat down with your group you couldn’t help but giggle at the conversation coming from Eddie’s table.

“Do you kids know what we are supposed to be doing? I wasn’t really paying attention,” you caught that beautiful smile from the corner of your eye. One of the students explained the game to him, it was something they’d played before so they were able to teach him with ease. Everything was running smoothly until it was time to clean up. 

“I’ve got it!” Aiden yelled tugging on one of the math bins.

Ryan tugged right back, “Let go I had to first!”

This power struggle resulted with the bin in question flying from both of their hands and crashing to the floor, pieces spilling everywhere. You had gotten up and walked over to the boys.

They both started talking over one another, each desperate for you to hear their version of the events. You held up a hand, “No thank you,” your voice in full teacher mode, “One at a time.” You listened to both of their versions and determined the most logical course of events. “Aiden, apologize.” They looked begrudgingly in the other’s direction and Aiden muttered a curt Sorry But you weren’t satisfied, “Nope. You can do better than that, apologize for trying to grab the container from him.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he managed an acceptable apology, “Good. Now both of you clean this mess up.”

Eddie was staring at you. You’d seen that look once before. On career day when the class had gotten loud. He shook his head as if discarding whatever thoughts were the source of his distractions. He got back to helping his group clean up.

He was uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the day. Even after school ended and the two of you were back at his place, both of you decompressing after a long day. Cuddled up on the couch with some movie playing on in the background, he finally spoke up.

“Not to sound like a broken record sweetheart, but you’re a really good teacher.”

You nuzzled into his shoulder. The arm that was wrapped around you squeezed, “Thanks Eddie. Sometimes it really helps to hear that. Although today was pretty good thanks to a certain metalhead and his natural charisma.”

He laughed, “Don’t discount yourself love. Shit if I had a teacher like you in school maybe it wouldn’t have taken me 3 fucking tries to graduate high school.” 

“You couldn’t pay me to teach high school, teenagers are just too much.”

He couldn’t even argue, “Teenage me would have given you a dozen and a half reasons not to get into education. I was a real asshole some days, should I write an apology letter to all my former teachers?”

With a smile you looked up and kissed his cheek, “I’m sure you weren’t that bad Eddie.”

“I was a full blown juvenile delinquent! Constantly cutting classes, creating a scene just about everywhere I went, not to mention selling drugs from the woods behind the high school.”

“And look at you now! A right model citizen if you ask me,” you had climbed into his lap at this point and clung to his neck.

He was looking up into your eyes with a glint of mischief, “I had a scene I wanted to try with you but we will have to wait until this weekend since you’ll probably need a few days to recover completely. Would you be up to try something new, pretty girl?”

You nodded, “What did you have in mind sir?”

His fingers gripped your waist firmly, “I think it’s about time we revisit that conversation we had the night we met. I’d really like to spit in your mouth sweet thing.”

Your core muscles tensed. The walls of your pussy clenched tightly onto the emptiness, “I’d really like that too sir.”

“Good, I want to try a scene with a bit more…intensity. How would you feel about foregoing praise for a night and really diving head first into degradation?”

“Sounds intriguing sir.”

He hummed with a smirk hanging from the side of his mouth, “Are you still ok with non permanent marks that your clothing will hide?”

Your head nods, “Yes sir. I’d love to feel your mark the next day after.”

“Oh you’ll be feeling my mark and then some. Do you want to know exactly what I had in mind, or do you want some of it to be a surprise?” 

You pondered, “Hmm, I trust you sir and I think I’d like a little surprise.” 

”All safe words and check ins will of course still stand and if you have any questions for me between now and then feel free to ask if you think of anything,” he looked at his watch and kissed you again, “You need to get to bed. Stay here tonight,” hearing him phrase his invitation as more of a demand and less of a request made you even more excited for this weekend.

The last thing you heard before heading to bed was a chilling word of warning from him, “Oh and sweetheart? Do be on your best behavior until then. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

All week you were in fact not on your best behavior. For some reason his comment made you want nothing more than to crank the brattiness up a notch. Finally when Friday night came you were practically bursting with excitement. 

Eddie had instructed you to wait until evening when it was dark to head over to his place. His mixed tape was playing in the background of your car as you drove, your overnight bag packed with enough clothes to last the weekend, a sexy new strappy black bra and panty set on that you and Robin went a little nuts over, and a million naughty predictions about what this evening would hold for you and your metalhead dominant.

The lights in the trailer were off when you pulled up but you saw Eddie sitting in the darkness on the old swing bench that hung over the attached porch. Your eyes traveled around the trailer park, it was eerily silent. No one else was outside on this late October night. He watched you as you grabbed your bag and walked up the steps to join him.

“Come here,” his tone was already firm and demanding. You could tell tonight was going to be lots of fun for both of you. He pointed between his legs and whispered, “Sit.”

You made a move to crawl in his lap but he shook his head, “Ah ah,” he pointed lower, “On the ground. At my feet.”

Your face flushed, “Yes sir.”

His eyes were locked on you as you slowly lowered yourself and kneeled between his boots. He had told you that he’d give you one more chance to ask questions and just mentally prepare before the scene officially began, but that you should expect things to get started right when you arrived.

“What I have in mind tonight is going to be really intense sweetheart. More so than we’ve ever done, but I know you’ll like it. Even so I will check in with you regularly to make sure you’re still enjoying yourself. Remember that we have safe words for a reason. If you need a break, water, to slow down, anything at all. I will stop if you tell me to. Do you understand?”

Looking up at him from kneeling on the ground, your body between his wide spread legs gave extra weight to the words, “Yes sir.”

“Just to clarify the plan, tonight will focus on exploring degradation and humiliation. I’ll be using little to no praise and I will be much more demanding with what I expect from you, is this still ok?” You agree, with a verbal answer of course, and wait for him to continue, “We will begin as soon as you give me the green light. Do you have any other questions?”

“I did think of one sir,” he looked pleased, “Will you be using any toys tonight?”

“Good question pretty girl, I hadn’t planned on it but if you’d like me to I am nothing if not accommodating.”

You shook your head, “No actually the opposite. I was going to request that you only use your hands, and your cock of course.”

He grinned with another pleased hum, “Good to know we are on the same page sweetheart. Ok last thing, should the situation arise where you aren’t able to give me a verbal answer, show me your nonverbal safewords.”

“If my hands are bound I hold up two middle fingers,” you pressed your wrists together and modeled it for him, “If my wrists aren’t bound I can tap firmly 3 times on your leg or arm.” You showed him by using the heel of your palm to anchor a firm, quick tapping motion 3 times on his thigh.

“Perfect,” he leaned forward and lifted your chin with a sharp flick, “Are you ready my love?”

You swallowed hard knowing that with the words you were about to utter, a switch would flip. Eddie would go from being your sweet caring boyfriend to your relentless dominant who would make damn good on his word to degrade, use, and humiliate you. 

The cool evening breeze sent shivers through your core as you didn’t dare look away from him, “I’m ready sir.”

You expected him to respond but he was quiet. He just looked at you. The night had gotten colder. You weren’t sure what to do so you moved to stand up and head inside. But before you could even move an inch, his boot was pressing down hard into your thigh.

“I didn’t say you could move slut. Stay on the ground where you belong.” 

Eddie had called you a slut before but it was always prefaced with my and good . You opened your mouth in protest but his boot pressed harder, “I didn’t say you could speak either.” He leaned forward, the pressure again increasing as he stepped on you, “I gave you one fucking rule and you couldn’t even follow it. I said be on your best behavior this week and do you know what I got? 37 times you acted like a fucking entitled spoiled brat. That must be some goddamn world record.”

In that single phrase, it had become quite clear, Eddie was right. Tonight was going to be very different. Usually he loved your bratty attitude, he loved the push and pull dynamic you had. You felt the shivers again as you inhaled a sharp breath of cold evening air. To be fair, you really had amped up the brattiness in the past few days. Hiding his guitar from him, doodling all over the cover of his campaign notebook, taunting him with text messages about how you were all alone at home touching yourself, just to name a few. 

But surely it wasn’t 37 times?

He scoffed at your puzzled expression, “Trying to do the math you dumb slut? Well I guess that makes me smarter than you because I kept meticulous records of all the shit you thought I wouldn’t notice.” He looked like he was finally going to touch you. But instead he lifted his hands to run his fingers through his own hair.

“I’m fucking freezing out here, get inside.” 

As soon as he stood up, you instinctively attempted again to rise from the ground. His boot took up the spot on your thigh that was still warm. He grabbed a handful of your hair in his fist, “What the fuck did I say? Your place tonight is at my feet. Now crawl your ass inside and kneel by my bed. Just nod if you understand.”

“Good.” Your brain supplied the girl that followed his single word. He didn’t spare you another glance as he stepped around you and walked towards the door. Your bag was still sitting on the bench. You heard the old screen door crack as he opened it.

“Will you hurry up?” he was holding the door open for you.

Your pulse quickened with the image of what you must look like right now but not wanting to be faced with trying to figure out how to get the door open without getting off your hands and knees you dropped your pride and used your mouth to bite the edge of your bag and pull it to the ground where you could carry it over your shoulder without disobeying him again. He looked pleased as he watched you crawl past him and into the warm trailer. 

“Shit sweetheart, maybe there’s hope for you yet. All this bitch needed was a firm hand to train her I guess.”

He turned the light on and locked the door behind you. You crawled along the cracked linoleum floor of the kitchen and into his bedroom where you set your bag to the side and kneeled beside his bed as instructed. 

While you waited for him to join you, which felt like a thousand years, your anticipation built for what else he had in store for you. All your usual bratty tendencies were nowhere to be seen. There was a twinge of fear that came along with the idea of displeasing him tonight and it was absolutely exhilarating.

The sound of his footsteps heading towards you startled you more than usual.

“Take your clothes off, and before you try and do something stupid like stand up again let me be clear. Do it from the floor,” he stood scarcely a foot from you. His eyes were locked on your body as you sat back to remove your pants. You chanced a glance up at him as you pulled your shirt over your head. The sadistic grin on his lips had wetness practically dripping down between your thighs. 

You waited for him to say something about the matching black, studded with gems, lacy bra and panty set you picked out just for him but all you got was a raised brow. Based on his expectations so far this evening you figured he was probably thinking something like Would you hurry it up already?

When you were finally naked he spoke, “How are you feeling right now? You may answer.”

“Green sir, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now fold those clothes and set them over there,” he watched as you completed your task and took a seat on the edge of the low mattress, “Come here.”

You were nothing if not a fast learner, you crawled to his feet and looked up into his dark brown eyes. His fingers finally touched your bare skin as he cupped your cheek only to change in an instant to a quick slap, “You caused a lot of trouble for me this week slut. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I punish you?”

“I’m–” your voice felt small and weak, “Sorry sir.”

He huffed, “Yeah I’ll bet you are.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “First lesson sweetheart. You are going to beg for everything tonight and if I don’t think you did a good enough job I’ll make you do it again and again until the slutty throat of yours is hoarse from screaming my name. Which brings me to my next rule, you will not call me Eddie. Tonight I am sir and only sir, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“I know once I have that brain of yours a mindless cockdrunk mess that might be a little harder but since you were competent enough to hide my guitar from me for a full 24 hours, and then had the nerve to tease me about it while you were gone at work— I think you’ll manage.”

“But sir you were working too hard and wouldn’t take a break if I didn’t,” a futile attempt to plead your case to him.

“Ha! You’re one to talk about working too damn hard. Now let’s use that mouth for something more useful. Open up, that’s it, stick out your tongue. I have wanted to do this since the first night I met you and your smartass mouth. Beg me to spit in your mouth.”

Your cheeks had to be on fire with how hot they felt, “Plea-,” you barely got a syllable out before he smacked your cheek again.

“I said beg. Not put your tongue back in your mouth.”

The realization that he wanted to hear you try to talk around your tongue with your open mouth flooded through you. Your cheeks were definitely ablaze now, “Please sir, spit in my mouth. Please.” The words came out a little garbled but mostly understandable.

His shoulders shrugged, “Eh, that was nothing special, but since you finally listened for once,” His hand gripped your jaw, holding your head in the perfect position for him to lean in and look you in the eye while he spit in your mouth, “Swallow.”

Your heart was racing the whole time. He had been right all along. You loved it and wanted nothing more than for him to do it again, “Thank you sir.”

His cocky ass knew it too, “You fucking liked that didn’t you? You disgusting slut. Tell me how you feel right now. Naked. Kneeling at my feet. My spit in your throat,” his hand slid down your jaw, landing on your collarbone. He twisted the silver chain still resting against your bare chest, “My collar around your neck.”

“I feel so good sir, thank you. I need more, please touch me!”

He laughed, “Such a needy little slut. I think what you really need is a reminder of who’s in charge here. You brats think you’re so smart with your little games. You want me to touch you? Fine. Get up on the bed.”

You watched him as he removed his black leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves of the flannel he’d been wearing underneath, “What the fuck are you staring at? Hurry up, shit you’re always so quick to tell me how I need to move faster but now you think it’s ok to move slow as hell?”

While your mind processed how to get up on the bed without standing completely up, he was done waiting. He grabbed you by the waist and tossed you up on the bed. Your breasts bouncing as you settled against the pillow, “Or maybe you’d rather just touch yourself and then tease me about it, instead of feeling me touch you, hm? Is that it?”

“No!” The response was instant and louder than you intended, “No sir please, I want to feel you touch me. Anywhere, wherever you want but please I need it.”

“Hm, that was a little better. Maybe by the end of the night you’ll figure out what it means to beg. Try again,” his widespread fingers gripped the fleshy part of your inner thigh and squeezed. The fingertips of the other hand rolling and pinching your erect nipple between them. The pained cry you let out caused a visible tightening in his jeans but you couldn’t see that because your head was thrown back into the pillows. “Beg me to leave my mark on your thighs.”

“Ahh— please sir, mark my thighs! Touch me with your mouth please.”

The fingers ran their knuckles slowly up and down your other leg. His rings felt cool against your warm flesh, “Aww, are you sad you can’t reach this part with your own mouth, you pathetic little thing?” He gripped your thigh once more pulling more whimpers from your lips, “But you need it don’t you?”

“Yes sir! I can’t make myself feel like you do! Only you, please put your mouth on me!” Your back arched into his touch while your fingers clawed into the sheets, aching with unsatisfied desire.

“That’s right,” he lunged at your exposed cunt with his mouth but landed with his lips on the skin where his hand had just been. “This slutty cunt belongs to me. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

His hands pushed your legs back giving him the room he required to bite down hard and suck. The feeling of his mouth marking your sensitive skin so close to your pussy was driving you wild. Without another thought you moaned and screamed in pleasure as he left his mark. Vaguely aware of the smile that curled its way onto his otherwise occupied mouth. 

Once he sufficiently irritated the skin in one spot he moved on to another, leaving what had to be huge love bites on either side of your entrance. 

He felt you lift your torso in effort to see his handiwork, “Keep your back on the bed. These marks are for my eyes only. You can feel them can’t you?”

“Yes! They feel so good sir, more! Cover me in your marks, please.”

He wouldn’t admit it out loud but you could tell by the way he went back in to leave another that he was pleased with your begging that time.

As he continued his work you were thankful that he didn’t ask you to be quiet anymore because you definitely wouldn’t have been able to hold back all the noises you were making. As if his mouth on your inner thigh wasn’t enough, he was dangerously close to your pussy and you could swear he was purposefully avoiding getting any closer. Your muscles moved on instinct and before you could stop them from pressing up into his touch in effort to get what you really wanted, you felt a sharp sting against your dripping sex.

“Filthy fucking whore,” he smacked your cunt again, “You’ll take what you’re given do you understand?”

A tightness rose in your throat. Breathing became a labor. All the muscles in your face clenched together in agony. A familiar yet so ill timed, foreign feeling overcame you. The nerves behind your eyes activated and moisture built up in the corners. You were crying.

“Are you seriously fucking crying already? That was just two slaps, I know you can handle more than that,” he paused for a moment, giving you a perfect opportunity to use a safe word if you needed but you didn’t say anything and your eyes were closed tight. So he pressed himself up and hovered over you, “Although you do look so goddamn beautiful like this. What’s your color sweet thing?”

You blinked up at him though mist, “G-green sir.”

“Do you remember what to do if you need me to stop?”

You nodded with a sniffle, “Yes sir.”

Your eyes widened with a pained cry, tears all but forgotten when he smacked you again, “Then stop being a fucking baby and take your goddamn punishment.” His hand cupped your breast and pinched down hard on your nipple, “That’s it, cry for me pretty girl. I wanna see your makeup run down your cheeks. Filthy slut.”

He pulled your legs down and flipped you over onto your stomach. With a tilt of the head you watched as he knelt next to you and pulled his bandana from his pocket. He manhandled your wrists and tied them together above your head, “I know how much you love touching me when I fuck you so I’m going to love watching you struggle to keep those hands down.”

His hand rubbed your ass and gave a few light swats, “Remember when you had the fucking nerve to tell me my spanks were nothing?” A harsh smack echoed through the silence. Accompanied only by your voice. Another and another came down hard on your now bright red skin. Eddie’s dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine, “That’s better. See you can be good when you want to be. Do you wanna show me that you can be good?”

“Yes sir! Please, please, let me show you I can be a good girl! I wanna suck your cock sir, please! Use my mouth,” the words just kept falling from your lips. 

“Well? Get the fuck up and suck it then. You don’t expect me to help you up do you? Useless slut, don’t say you’re going to do something and then wait for someone else to do all the work.”

Flipping yourself over was easier said than done. Your tender ass screaming, dried tears staining your cheeks. Even once you managed to get up you still had to get his cock out of his jeans with your hands bound. Any other night he would have been praising you for doing so well and taking good care of him but tonight he was silent. Even going as far as to let out an annoyed huff, “If I have known you’d move this slow I would have just fucked your throat while you were laying down. You know for being so damn smart you really are stupid sometimes.”

“I’m sorry sir,” you worked faster and finally freed his hard cock from its confines. 

“About damn time,” he sat back down against the bed and grabbed your hair as he began thrusting up into your mouth without warning. You felt yourself gag slightly at the sudden intrusion. He groaned loudly. You could feel yourself drooling all over both your own chin and him. His forcefulness felt incredible. The feeling that he was just taking your body and using it for his pleasure was exactly what you wanted. Your mind got more and more delightfully clouded by the minute, thinking clearly was getting harder and harder especially as he fucked harder into your mouth. His moans mixed with yours as he pulled out with a loud grunt.

“Stop, your throat is so tight, feels so good but it’s not the hole I want to come in tonight. Get on your back,” he pushed you down and put himself between your legs once again, “I’m fucking starving and this pussy looks absolutely delicious. I’m going to eat you out as long as I fucking please and christ help you if you come slut. Do you hear me?” There was a manic excitement in his voice as he gripped your abused thighs, “Answer me you pathetic whore,” He was damn near yelling!

“Yes! Yes I heard you sir. I won’t come, I promise!” your bound hands clinging to the pillow was your only life line from floating away. Your mind was a fuzzy clouded mess and somewhere in your rational consciousness you knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to keep that promise.

As soon as his tongue hit your pussy he laughed into you, “You’re fucking soaked.” He pulled his tongue up slowly and flicked your clit, “Just knew you’d love this. I’m going to break you sweetheart. Keep those legs down and open for me.” 

The tears began trickling down your already damp cheek again as you fought back your building orgasm. Eddie’s tongue against your clit was sending all the right signals telling your body to just let go and savor that sweet release but he’d told you not to and you were going to do your best to obey him. Unfortunately your will power was fragile at best in this current state. He’d done this before, forbidding your orgasm until given permission to do so but you’d been more lucid that time and telling him to slow down so you didn’t break the rules had been easier. This time no such thought occurred to you. The sliver of control you held onto snapped and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You simply came.

He stopped.

You were too deep in your high to realize what just happened let alone perceive the scowl on his face. Each word that he whispered in a low deliberate pattern brought you back down, ”Did you just come slut, and don’t you fucking lie to me.”

Panic replaced bliss as you put the pieces together, “‘m s-sorry sir. I didn’t mean to. Please, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me, it just- I couldn’t- felt too good.”

His movements were slower than you anticipated, but just as harsh. His hand squeezed your hips as he slowly slithered his arms up to your throat. His ringed fingers curled into your neck and you hated the disappointment in his eyes. He had you locked with his stare while he choked you.

He sneered down at you, “I can’t believe I thought you’d be my good girl, but you’re just a worthless whore who can’t even control her own fucking cunt.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy on your heart, desperation fills your voice, “No, no I’m a good girl sir! Please, please I can be your good girl!” A feeling of lightheadedness fills your mind as you try to speak through his grip. 

“Good girls don’t come without permission. That’s what sluts do, and what did you do?” His grip loosened to let you speak easier.

Your voice was shaken as you felt the sting of more tears drip down your cheek, “I came without permission sir.” 

“That’s right, do filthy sluts like you deserve to be called a good girl?” 

“N-no sir,” your body writhed with want. He took notice.

“Since you want to come so badly I’m going to make you come over and over again until you can’t fucking take it anymore,” he pulled a condom from his pocket and slid it over himself, “I’m not even going to ask you to beg for my cock, you’ve already shown me that your just a cock hungry slut, nothing more. So that’s how I’ll treat you. Just a hole for my cock to fuck.” 

He was inside you in a second, pounding at a relentless pace, “Fuck your cunt is so tight, fucking made for me, say your mine!”

“I’m yours sir only yours. Thank you for fucking me, you feel so good!” Your mindless mantra became ingrained in your head while you lost yourself to the feeling of his thick length stretching your overstimulated pussy.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to be called a good girl again?”

“Yes yes,” you yelled, “I’m a good girl sir please!”

“Yeah? He mocked in a sweet sing-song voice, “Is that what you are? His hand made its home on your waist as he used your body to steady himself. His hips began bucking into you harder. Hitting that perfect spot.

You felt your second orgasm building again, ”Need to hear it please please sir,” you yelled out in frustration as his cock kept plunging against your cunt without mercy. “Ah- please please sir! Call me your good girl! I wanna be good for you!” 

“Aww you need it do you? Beg me to come and maybe I’ll consider it.”

You let out a loud scream, “Please can I come? God fuck- shit I’m gonna come, Eddie please!”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” he stopped fucking you but kept himself buried deep inside. His hand was at your throat again.

Your mistake gradually took shape in your mind. All of it became a little too much, you knew he was mad at you again. You disappointed him. Again. You really were a worthless whore who couldn’t do anything right. Every single rule he had set, you hadn’t been able to follow. You broke every last one. You wanted to apologize, beg for his forgiveness, but you couldn’t get anything other than whimpers and cries out. He was talking to you but you couldn’t hear him. 

“Hey, hey sweetheart, I’m right here,” his hand lifted from your neck and he pulled out. His body pressed against your side and he kissed your forehead, he whispered your name, “Talk to me. What do you need? Do you want to stop?”

His touches felt so soothing and after a moment you fell back down to earth. You looked up into his now soft brown eyes, “No sir. Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I’m a good girl right? Wanna be your good girl sir.” The movement of your bound arms brings relief you didn’t know you needed as you brought them in to try and hug around his neck.

He hugged you back and placed more kisses on your cheeks and jawline, “Of course you’re my good girl. Does my good girl want to come on my cock?”

You pleaded with him, “Yes sir. I want to feel you come too. I feel bad when you don’t come.”

“Shhh!” he cooed in your ear as he played with your hair, “Playing with you and pleasing you is satisfaction enough for me. Ready for me to fuck you again, or do you need another minute?”

“I’m better sir, thank you.”

One more kiss for good measure, “I love you sweetheart. You come whenever you need.”

You started to apologize again but he just kept reassuring you that you didn’t do anything wrong, “You’re perfect sweetheart.” His cock was back inside you but at a slower pace this time.

Eddie’s loving touch brought you back to the edge really quickly. He expertly brought the mood back but kept it light and sprinkled in a bit more praise, “Fuck this pussy is still soaked. You enjoyed that didn’t you, who’s my good little slut?”

“Me! Me sir, I’m your good little slut, your cock feels so good! More, fuck me harder. Use my pussy to come!”

He hummed against your neck, “As you wish sweetheart.” He picked up the pace and you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m coming sir! Shit ahh-” you felt a stream of wetness squirt out from your body and flood the bed.

Eddie was pleased, “That’s it you messy slut. More, come on my cock again.” You couldn’t have held this next one back if you tried. The feeling of release washed over you once again. Wetness flooded out of your body and soaked the sheets beneath you.

His rhythm changed, “Goddamn it! Feels so fucking good when you come like that. I’m not going to last much longer sweetheart. I wish I could fuck this pussy all night.”

You could barely move. He had been doing all the work, your body was putty in his hands as he used your pussy to finish himself off with a loud moan, “I’m coming!” 

He laid there with you long enough to catch his breath before he pulled out and discarded the used condom, “We both need some serious aftercare love. Come here,” he helped you up and carried you to the bathroom.

His bathtub was small but somehow both of you managed to fit and surround yourself with warm water, “I enjoyed that so much sweetheart, thank you. Talk to me. Are you alright, was there anything I did that you didn’t like?”

Your head was laying against his chest with his arms wrapping around you, “That was incredible Eddie. I’m sorry I got overwhelmed and we had to slow down.”

“You listen to me. Right now,” his words were demanding but soft, “Don’t you ever apologize for needing a break. I'd have been a little worried if you didn’t need to take a break! Safewords and communication exist for that exact purpose. Using them doesn’t mean that you did something wrong,” he kissed the top of your head and caressed up and down your arm.

You sank down into the water a little, “You were definitely right about one thing.”

He smiled down at you, “And what’s that love?”

“We couldn’t have done that on a school night.”

[squeakygeeky]

Vietnamese BL Industry

This is my attempt to make a little bit of sense of the production side of Vietnamese BL. As a tiny bit of background, BL is very popular in Vietnam, especially Thai BL, but it’s hard to get the budget to produce it. At the same time, it attracts international attention, which isn’t common for Vietnamese media. A lot of actors have actually appeared in multiple BLs but Thai-style imaginary couple co-branding doesn’t seem to be much of a thing. Maybe a little playing with that in promo for a specific series, but that’s it. MDL doesn’t include Vietnamese shows so that made this...fun.

@absolutebl​ and @heretherebedork​ already have guides to VBL here and here that describe some of the series mentioned, so check out their blogs, and also feel free to ask my for anything from recommendations to speculation.

A note on names: Vietnamese names go family name - middle name - given name, but a lot of time western name order is used in credits. But also family names aren’t used that much and sometimes are left out even of credits. What is used varies from show to show. So I’m about to be wildly inconsistent and just use whatever I happened to see in whatever credits I was looking at when I made notes, and I was too lazy to include diacritical markers, which often get left out in the credits anyway.

Ho Si Hau/O2 Production

Ho Si Hau has been making BL since at least 2017. In around 2020 he discovered actor Ba Vinh and proceeded to cast him in pretty much everything he’s made since and shows no signs of stopping. O2 is his own production company, but he also directed You Are Ma Boy for D GROUP Media. He has a few actors he works with repeatedly (and I think is their agent). It’s been a rough road (including him being repeatedly accused of fraud and oversharing a bit in his emails) but he’s managed to harness the power of international crowdfunding. He is absolutely a BL director and just desperately wants to continue making more and more BL. I can’t remember him ever including trans or lesbian characters. His works are generally pretty domestic, although he does have one high school series and one in the planning stages. He seems to be trying to explore some interesting themes, like including a temporarily disabled character in Want to See You, touching on the lack of gay marriage with Mr. Cinderella, and some stuff regarding filial piety and child abuse in Nation’s Brother, but a lot of this has been getting lost in execution. Loves a faen fatal way, way, way too much. Based both on behind the scene footage he does seem to workshop his actors for intimacy and the results speak for themselves. 

Want to See You Mr. Cinderella You Are Ma Boy The Most Peaceful Place is Your Place Nation's Brother The Ring Goes Missing Ngày Em Đến Active Boys

Oril Nguyen

Oril Nguyen works mostly with MCV, which produces a lot of things other than BL, but also directed Tien Bromance Extra: My Small Family (we’ll be getting to Tien Bromance in a second). He’s been directing BL since at least 2017. He’s somehow even more domestic than Ho Si Hau and has directed two series where the leads have an adopted child, My Monster in Law 2 and Tien Bromance Extra: My Small Family. My Monster in Law is also notable for including a couple that got legally married in New York prior to the events of the series. He includes trans side characters but no lesbians come to mind. His works are generally light and funny, although I’d say there’s a bit more to Follow My Sunshine and The Promise. Very good at directing intimacy and must also workshop his actors.

The Promise Beef, Cupcakes and Him Hey Rival, I Love You! My Monster in Law Hey! First Love Tien Bromance Extra: My Small Family Follow My Sunshine

Nguyen Huu Tien 

He’s not BL director, but he did direct queer movie Bridge of Destiny, which he did not appear in. He has his own production company, Duoc Si Tien. Yes, this is the Tien Bromance guy. He’s one of the leads in Tien Bromance and Sea Him. I think he at least partially self-funded those. He really loves film and playing with genre and also seems to like attention and appears on reality shows, so I feel like that explains a lot. Expect anything from him to be absolutely wild. Just bonkers. Appears to have a horror movie called Hanh Phuc Mau coming out soon. He’s acted twice in series with Huu Tai, but that’s less co-branding and more that he really likes to work with Huu Tai, who he also cast in Bridge of Destiny.

Thu Ha/Team RL 

Director of the excellent Stupid Boys, Stupid Love and then the connected You Are My Sunshine and You Are My Stupid Boy. Stupid Boys, Stupid Love included a GL couple with a butch character. The first of those seemed to have the highest production value and was the best one. The Star Always Follow You is coming out soon from Team RL, presumably with the same director and definitely using familiar actors, including the BL couple from SBSL/YAMSB being paired again. The two most recent series suffered from low production quality. Low heat, but good chemistry and the low heat works for the cute high school settings.

Huy Hung/CifTV  

CifTV’s production is fairly low budget and they do a lot of chat based shows instead of live action. Their live action series are also low budget and range from ok to truly terrible. Huy Hung directed My Little Sister, an actual GL, for them and was previously an editor for CifTV’s Neighbor Guy, Roommate, and My Brother. My Little Sister is high school and stepsister’s trope but not as bad as I was expecting based on those two facts and my other experiences with CifTV. Huy Hung also directed the unfinished GL School’s Out Let’s Date Now for TBR, but is most notable for directing My Lascivious Boss for Pap, which had a relatively decent budget and script and which I really like. Great range of gender and sexuality representation overall. Not good at directing intimacy, expect dead fish kisses, if any. Works with Nam Mario from MLB a lot.

Danny/AB Studio 

Danny writes and directs, wrote Fools, didn’t direct it. Directed Stage of Love, Vietnam’s only uni BL (unless I got my vocab wrong and it was set in high school). AB released one episode of The Letters, but nothing else BL since then and were last co-producing a het highschool series. Would love to see them back on the BL side.

609 tv

I don’t really know what to put here. They don’t produce BL technically? They mostly make commercials and movies that basically function as public service announcements about stuff like HIV and PrEP (I assume this gets them funding), aimed at a gay male audience. One of these, Hy, was screened at the US Consulate. Si was depressing, don’t watch it. Threesome Game was fun. Handsome Doctor, a medical cross-dressing comedy promoting feminism and mental health treatment, featured a bunch of familiar BLish tropes for some reason despite not being a romance and having a straight (but gnc) female lead, and made no sense whatsoever as a thing that existed, but I adored it and wish had gotten past two episodes. 

Holy Thang/YoungLife TiVi

Used to work with 609, has his own production company now. Directed Football Guys, A Love Song for My Beloved, and Memory. I’ve only seen A Love Song for My Beloved and it was bad. The only VBL director I am actively avoiding.

[prvtocol]

@badtrigger : Mi'kwel trudges into the marui after only half an hour 'playing' with the other Metkayina children -- a drastic shortfall in comparison to how long he and his brother usually spend outside. He's rubbing his wet eyes and fighting to keep a stiff lower lip. The boy collapses against his mama and grips onto her shirt in search of comfort. After a drawn moment, he finally whines, "They made fun o-of me again.." Mi'kwel fidgets with his pinky finger -- one too many, according to his bullies. Why is his family so weird? "I wanna be normal.. I wanna be like Aoleyk.. o-or Tu'at.. everyone likes Tu'at.." | wonderfully random asks (always accepting) ᠂ ⚘ ˚

A mother’s arms should protect her children, and instinctually, Brianne wraps hers around her young son as he falls needily into her lap, but she knows she cannot protect him from everything. Her palm comes to rest along the side of his head, cradling him close to her chest as if the sound of her heartbeat might soothe as it once did when he was a crying baby. And cry he does, trying so hard to be silent as the tears fall down his cheeks, wetting her old t-shirt with each drop. Her heart continues its rhythmic beats, but those words, that want of his that will forever be out of reach, it threatens to cleave it in two. It takes all her strength not to break down with him, to be strong, to be the support he needs right now — but where can she find words of encouragement that do not hide harsher truths.

Ever since his birth, since seeing his little form inside that crystal clear tsalnu and finding that extra digit on him and his brother, she mourned passing on what would be a stark marker of difference. A marker that would hail him and his brother as those of demon blood, forever tainted by the abomination that is her body and the Sky People who created it. She always accepted that she would not fully belong. Hers is a strange fate, a life not meant to continue and in a body created and born unnaturally. She is not and never will be Na’vi. She only asks to live in peace with her family, thankful her mate’s respected position in his clan and beyond and her help with the Resistance further allows her such amnesty. And while she is different and vilified among many, those opinions are expected, accepted, and valid, but not for her children — their boys are of the People. She made sure they'd raise them exactly as other children are raised in this clan, not wanting to harm them too much with her Sky People ways or mark them as any more different than they appear. But in such a homogeneous society, blindness to any difference is impossible. 

“Ma parultsyìp, your normal just looks a little different than theirs. And really it is only this,” she takes his small hand, her fingers brushing against his five long digits with her own, “This one thing that they see and they cannot understand. But it does not make you any less of the People than them, no matter what anyone says.”

“But mama,” he sniffles, gripping the back of her shirt with his other hand, “They say I have demon blood. That I'm a freak.”

Brianne exhales a depleted sigh; so young to be calling others these names and too young to understand. “You have my blood and I am of the Sky People, but you are not me. Always remember you are your father’s son, by his name, you are called — Mi’kwel te Monkada San’tos’itan — and a strong and respected warrior of the Metkayina he is. One day, you will be as mighty if not mightier than him. Keep being brave in the face of those who say you are different, or strange. Don’t look at yourself as any less because... there is nothing wrong with being different.” Because of me, she meant to say, disheartened, helpless, responsible, but she knows that's unfair.

She continues running her fingertips along the black tufts of his braided hair, soothing strokes, all the while wishing she could carry this burden for him as she carries her own. These bleak uncertainties in her handling of this will undoubtedly find San'tos' pointed ears that evening; she needs her mate's guidance just as much as her child needs hers.

“It’s okay to cry some more, my darling. I'm always here for you to let your guard down whenever you need it," she gently tells him a moment later, never wanting him to feel ashamed to cry or feel uncomfortable expressing those feelings to her; to always be his safe space.

"Please don't tell Mon'te I cried, mama," he adds with another sob, burying his face into her chest once more.

"I promise, I won't." She reassuringly confirms, her hug tightening around him, a kiss pressed to the crown of his head after. She knows Mon'te has a different personality; an ability to shrug things off as funny like Uncle Vaas or appear unaffected like Papa, but she's also sure he has the same uncertainties and worries just like his brother. How thankful she is that they have each other in the trials they must face.

"You can stay in my lap as long as you need, but when you are ready, let’s wipe away our tears and you can help me wrap some leaves for supper, alright?”

[buckyismybicycle]

I've been lookin' (part 1/2 Roommate AU)

Title: I've been lookin' (part 1)/ meet me under the mistletoe (part 2) Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson Rating: Teen Tags: FLUFF, Roommate AU/no powers, Summary: It’s an ongoing thing in their group that Bucky and Sam are polar opposite ends and everyone got sandwiched between them.

But maybe, their friends have got it wrong.

Sam has never felt better, happier, than right now. Where he’s surrounded by his friends, and they’re all done school (finally, Clint!) and they’re all employed and happy. It’s great.

They’re relaxed. They’re having fun, god forbid.

Steve sits across from him, marker in hand and whiteboard at the ready. Natasha, sitting beside Steven, has dug up some partners quiz (“relax, it can mean work partners too!”) and her and Clint had crushed it. Obviously.

“What’s Sam’s favourite comfort food?” Natasha asks, just as the apartment door opens.

“Lobster mac and cheese, why? What happened now?” Bucky responds, kicking his shoes off and not even looking at them.

Sam’s back goes ramrod straight because what the fuck? Natasha has a smirk on her face, which Sam does not like, and she’s having a whole conversation with Clint using just her eyes.

“No reason, just settling a debate,” Natasha lies smoothly (thank you, Nat). Bucky snorts.

“There is no world where beer chili is better than gourmet seafood mac and cheese, anyway,” he says with all the confidence in the world.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” she plays along. “Thanks, Buck, I knew I could count on you.” Bucky squints at her for a second but then just shrugs because, honestly, weirder shit has happened and goes to his room, closing it behind him like he always does. Steve, who hasn’t moved a muscle this entire time, just looks flabbergasted.

“Really?” He asks Sam, looking almost offended.

“Um,” Sam says unintelligibly.

“Why? What’d you put down?” Natasha asks, leaning back to look. Steve flips the board around to reveal Chili (with beer).

“I mean, that’s also correct,” Sam says immediately, so Steve doesn’t feel bad about not knowing, since Steve feels bad about almost everything all the time.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha wags a finger. “Pick one. Absolute comfort, which one do you go for?”

“Well,” Sam starts and then he thinks for a second. “I would’ve probably also said chili, you know my Ma makes it with beer, the whole damn house smells amazing…”

“But,” Clint waves his hand for him to continue.

“Lobster Mac and Cheese was… just not something we could have all the time. You seen the price of lobster these days? Absolute robbery,” Sam shakes his head. “So, I’d only get it if I was really looking for something to hit home…Ma saved it for the… special days. Days when I really needed it.” Like when dad passed away.

“Sorry Steve, but you don’t get that point,” Natasha jabs him in the bicep and Steve is already nodding along.

“You sure you don’t want Bucky as your partner instead?” Steve jokes and Sam rolls his eyes. It’s an ongoing thing in their group that Bucky and Sam are polar opposite ends and everyone got sandwiched between them.

When they finally wrap up their game ,Natasha, Sam and Clint leave Steve and Bucky to go across the hall into their own shared apartment and Clint takes his hearing aids out, says he’s going to sleep. Which leaves Sam wide open for attack by one Natasha Romanoff.

“So.”

“Can I help you?” He sasses back, reaching for orange juice in the fridge. It’s clearly got “SAM” scribbled on it in Sharpie, because she thinks drinking from the carton is gross, but Sam sees it as a win if he gets a whole carton to himself.

“Bucky is paying awfully close attention to you,” she singsongs. “Never thought I’d see the day he’d know your secrets better than me.”

“Okay, first off, mac and cheese is not some deep dark secret,” Sam snorts. “And secondly, it was a random instance. Lord knows his memory is crazy scary, he probably picked up a conversation I had one time.”

“And deemed that fact important enough to remember forever, gotcha,” she says nonchalantly before heading to her room, because she’s infuriating like that.

“I hate you!” Sam yells at her retreating figure, but he feels like the losing one. Even when Figaro saunters into the kitchen to rub up against Sam’s leg, which usually makes him feel infinitely better, seems judgey right now. Sam scoops him up to bring him to bed and when they pass by Lucky, who lifts his head off the couch, Sam just glares at him.

“Don’t even,” he squints at the dog, who flops back down on the cushions.

The thing is: Sam cannot stop thinking about it. He tries, with maximum effort, to recall the conversation where he would have mentioned it when Bucky would have been around, because he definitely didn’t mention it to Bucky. It literally gnaws at him. If he was the type to keep secret journals, he’d accuse Bucky of reading them to spite him or something.

Natasha, of course, picks up on it.

“Are you still upset over this macaroni and cheese thing? Jesus Christ.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Sure. Why does it bother you so much that he knows something about you?”

“I’m not bothered!”

“Sure,“ she repeats.

---

It takes a few days, but Sam eventually lets it go. He chalks it up to someone that he did have that conversation with telling Bucky offhand. There. Done. Everything is fine.

Then he gets a picture from Clint, who’s at Target, with four different Dove body washes.

What colour again??

He's about to write back, but his door opens and the man in question is hauling two alarmingly big bags and Sam realizes the text came in over two hours ago.

“Don’t worry about the body wash man,” he tells Clint easily. “Sorry I didn’t text back.”

Clint looks confused for a second before he sets down the bags.

“Oh! The body wash. Yeah, no problem, here,” he says, tossing a bottle at him. Thankfully Sam’s reflexes can keep up. “Bucky said it was this one.”

And, having no idea the impact of his words, Clint unpacks some other items from his shopping trip into the kitchen before carrying the rest to his room. Sam is still standing there looking at the blue label on the bottle in his hands wondering how and why Bucky would know that.

The next time they all hang out, Bucky’s not around (as usual). It’s dinner and games, which is their usual MO, but when it hits 11:30pm, Clint asks “where’s Bucky?”

“Working late,” Steve answers. “Some client in Russia, who doesn’t respect time zones.” Sam realizes he actually has no idea what Bucky does.

“What’s he do again?” He asks, going for casual.

“Uh, he’s a fancy translator, I guess is the best term,” Steve thinks.

“Contract interpreter,” Natasha corrects. “Translates in international meetings, mostly.” Steve nods along.

“Yeah. But translates documents too. Reports, meeting minutes, that sort of thing.”

“Transcribing shit,” Clint offers helpfully. “Sucks that he’s working so late though. Damn Russia and your five hundred time zones,” he says accusingly at Natasha, who just snorts.

“There are eleven,” she rolls her eyes. “Not as bad as that World Expo in Shanghai, at least.”

“God that was the worst week of my life,” Steve grumbles, recounting their opposite time schedules.

Okay, so, he's the only one who doesn’t know anything about Bucky apparently.

Why does it make him feel like shit? It’s not like he doesn’t hang out with Bucky, it’s just that everyone else seems to have a thing with him. Steve is his best friend and roommate, and Natasha is his ex-girlfriend for fuck’s sake. Clint had met him at the shooting range, and immediately became enamoured by the fact that Bucky knew sign language. Sam’s fairly certain Clint had a crush on Bucky, before Bucky introduced him to Nat. Bucky and him… they just don’t have a thing.

And even when they get to hang out as a group, Bucky is missing half the time, which Sam only just realized was due to his schedule and not that he hated people (though, Sam is pretty sure Bucky does hate people).

---

It takes him a few days to get over that feeling too.

Life carries on, and Sam finally makes his way to case worker status, instead of just a temp agent. The gang decides to celebrate with dinner, and to Sam’s horror/delight, Bucky is also coming. The five of them pile into Steve’s Volkswagen and it’s absolutely hell on earth because Sam can practically feel Bucky’s knees in his back from behind his seat and he tries to move up as far as he can but Bucky just taps him on the shoulder and says “don’t worry about it”.

They go to one of Sam’s favourite restaurants, The Fox and the Fiddle, where he’s dying to order the chocolate lava cake before they even get to entrees but he behaves himself. They start with drinks and appetizers, chatting as though they don’t talk every damn day. He’s across from Bucky with Natasha and Clint on his right, Steve beside Bucky. He tries not to stare at Bucky, because it makes him uncomfortable, but it’s hard when the sunset catches Bucky’s eyes just right, so he studies his menu intensely even though he practically lives at this restaurant. The alcohol catches up to him though, and he excused himself to go inside to use the bathroom.

Not a moment after Sam goes, the waitress appears to take their orders for their main course.

“Did Sam say what he was getting?” Clint asks, after ordering the home burger combo for himself. Natasha orders a curry bowl before she shrugs.

“Probably the fish and chips,” she guesses. “That man has an unhealthy obsession with fish and chips.”

“Only if they’re from Lenny’s or Duckworth's. It's the chicken and waffles here,” Bucky intervenes. “Not that it matters, he only came here for the cake.” He orders tacos for himself. Steve orders a grilled chicken wrap combo.

“Well? Waffles or fish or chips?” Steve tries to reach a consensus.

“Waffles,” Bucky says the same time Natasha says “fish and chips.” Bucky considers for a moment.

“Sorry, can I change my order? I’ll take the chicken and waffles, and our friend will take the fish and chips.”

“Sure thing,” the bubbly waitress smiles, obviously enamoured by their little group. Sam comes back a few minutes later and picks up the conversation again. Steve sees the waitress coming back with their order.

“Oh, forgot to tell you the waitress came by. What were you gonna order again?”

“Steve, man, I just want like ten lava cakes. But I guess if we’re doing real food I’ll order some chicken and waffles. Shit, they’re sauce is so good, I don’t know what it is about it.”

He doesn’t miss the way everyone's eyes dart around the table, except Bucky’s, who is firmly staring at a spot on the table.

The waitress comes with another server in tow, helping her carry everything, and hands everyone their order. “Alright, I’ve got the wrap for you, a curry bowl for you, burger combo here, the fish and chips-”

“Sorry, those were mine,” Bucky interrupts, and the waitress switches trajectory, puts the plate in front of Bucky instead.

“Oh, sorry about that! I could have sworn-“

“No, no, it’s - we probably just mixed it up,” Bucky brushes her apology away, and she smiles at him again, accepting the white lie, and maybe checking him out.

“And that leaves the chicken and waffles for you, then!” She says to Sam. “Enjoy your meal everyone, I’ll be back with your dessert menus after.”

“You guys are the best,” Sam smiles, digging into his plate with gusto. Steve, Natasha and Clint don’t miss the way Bucky’s mouth curves upward in a small smile before he tucks away into his-but-not-really-his order. Steve whispers something in Bucky’s ear and he shakes his head with some sort of look that only Steve can interpret. Whatever it is, Steve doesn’t press.

Sam does end up ordering his lava cake, and an extra one to go. Everyone is full and cheerful, and when they step out of the elevator, Bucky just makes it to the top of the stairs (he never takes the elevator). They say goodnight, Clint and Natasha heading in first and Steve ahead of Bucky.

“It’s the dill,” Bucky says to Sam in lieu of a goodnight before blinking and turning around to follow Steve.

It takes Sam almost an hour to figure out what the hell Bucky meant by that.

“… I’ll order some chicken and waffles. Shit, they’re sauce is so good, I don’t know what it is about it.”

Dill. Huh, he’d never really thought about it.

---

Sam comes home from work one day, feeling exhausted. He loves his job, and his vets, but hearing their stories overwhelmed him sometimes. He’s only seen half a tour and he’s been out of combat for years now, it shouldn’t be weighing on him so much anymore, and he starts to doubt his choice getting into his line of work. Can he hold himself together?

When he nears the door, he hears Steve laughing and realizes he forgot about the plans they’d made today. Not wanting to let his friends down, he took a few breaths, and rolled his shoulders, making sure he had a smile on his face.

“SAM! Oh, we’re just watching Jo Koy. Do you wanna start from the beginning?” Steve offers.

“Nah, I’m good, I’ve seen his specials at least half a dozen times, I’mma just get changed,” Sam waves him off and takes stock of his living room. Natasha is sitting in Clint’s lap on one of their recliners. Steve and his girlfriend, Sharon, are on the couch with Bucky sitting on the other side of Steve. He looks kind of miserable, but he looks like that pretty often so Sam can’t be sure. Sam sets his stuff down in his room, changes into a more comfortable shirt and heads back out to claim the other recliner. He’s still unwinding, so his friends are laughing away and he feels a little out of it. Tired. Bucky’s laugh is surprisingly light and it’s - shit, it’s kinda beautiful. Sam has to consciously not look in the direction of the couch but when Steve starts to choke as he’s laughing, Sam has an excuse to look over and Bucky’s face has lost some of its usual tension, an easy smile on his face.

He might’ve been staring a little too long, because Bucky looks over and they make direct eye contact and even as Sam tries to look at everyone else, he knows he’s caught. He looks back though, because he can’t help it, and Bucky just mouths at him, with a scrunch of his eyebrows, “you okay?”

He just nods and smiles, but maybe it’s not convincing enough. After a few minutes, Bucky picks up the empties on the table and wordlessly heads to the kitchen. Sam knows better than to think a beer would help, so he hasn’t bothered.

Bucky comes back and hands out his foraging - a cider for Sharon, a Guinness for Steve, Klinskoye for Nat and a hipster craft beer for Clint. He has to make a second trip apparently, and takes an awfully long time. He comes back with - tea?

Sam gives him an odd look, but accepts the steaming mug and instantly knows the calming scent of chamomile. It’s actually perfect, for the day he’d had.

“Really guys, tapping out?” Sharon ribs them. Bucky just chuckles and takes the attention off Sam.

“I’m an old man alright, and I’ve got a consult in two hours,” he says. “Sorry Sam, but since all our friends are alcoholics I’m going to need you to drink this with me in solidarity.” Sam has no idea if he’s lying or not, but he puts his mug up to salute Bucky and takes a sip, appreciating that Bucky put honey in it just how he likes. It’s… Sam’s sure that Bucky doesn’t actually need the tea, but the thought of Bucky putting on a front for him makes that squiggly cloud of confusion in his mind return.

“Midnight? Ew,” Clint makes a face and Sam remembers that there’s a conversation happening.

“Kazakhstan,” Bucky sighs, like that explains everything (and apparently it does because almost everyone else just nods solemnly).

Sam finds himself spending a little more time watching Bucky, but in his defence, he has seen this special a few times.

---

Unfortunately, someone must have had something because in the days following their hangout, Sharon and Steve are sick as dogs, and Clint starts to come down with it too. Natasha had quarantined him in their room while she took the couch but it was too late, and her fever caught up to her by morning. Nobody thought anything of it until Sam heard Clint throwing up at 2:00am one day and yeah, no thanks. Sam resolutely avoids the common areas and basically locks himself to his room.

The group chat is absolutely dismal with their primary chatters down for the count so he’s surprised when Bucky texts him separately. There’s no “hi” or “hello” which makes Sam kind of amused because it’s just like Bucky to cut to the chase.

Sam is kind of dying at the image though, and he knows he can’t just keep typing LOL but Bucky’s actually got a sense of humour that Sam’s not sure he’s seen before.

And Sam feels like a dick because he’s obviously taken too long to respond and making Bucky feel awkward about it. The thing is, it’s actually a really thoughtful proposition.

Has Bucky ever called him pal before? Sam can’t remember. He hears Bucky say it to Steve, a lot. And Clint, too. Sam kinda feels warm about it. He texts Steve anyway, even if Bucky’s probably already caught him up to speed.

He basically packs as soon as he can, blames it on the fact that he’s going a little stir crazy in his room. He’s knocking on Bucky’s door and Bucky opens it, sweating through the front of his t-shirt and a few shorter strands of hair loose in his face having escaped from his bun. His hair - a manbun -

His entire brain short circuits while Bucky is opening the door wider and apologizing so he misses half of what Bucky says but regardless, it is still unacceptable because wow.

“What, no! No, I mean, I kinda just popped in -“

“Well I did kind of invite you -“

“And I totally forgot to tell you I was coming like, right now, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s okay, I was actually just finishing up,” Bucky shrugs, locking the door behind Sam. “Um, I’m gonna go shower, but you already know where everything is, so, make yourself at home?”

Bucky looks a little embarrassed and Sam really does bad for interrupting the man’s workout but the image of Bucky flushed and breathing heavily is now permanently stuck in Sam’s brain. He’s not sure if he’s grateful or if he’s doomed himself.

Objectively speaking, Sam knows that Bucky is a physically attractive individual. He’s pretty sure that he accidentally said so out loud to Rhodey at some party years ago when they were all still young enough to party without feeling like garbage the next day. Steve had been all “hey is it cool if my buddy comes for a run with us” and Sam said “sure” not thinking it’d be The Bucky.

Back then, Bucky had worn a plain baseball cap low on his head the whole time and didn’t talk.

Steve introduced them and Sam shook the man’s hand politely and then Steve pulled Sam ahead, striking up conversation like he always did and Sam couldn’t help feeling a little awkward knowing his friend was left out.

“It’s… he just got back,” Steve had explained and then suddenly Sam understood the feeling of being forced to do activities he didn’t really want to, and how the last thing Bucky probably wanted was idle chit chat. Sam just nodded and kept pace as best as he could, but he couldn’t help checking over his shoulder every now and then. When all his muscles were on fire and he tapped out, Steve had also plopped his ass on the grass while Sam sucked in air greedily, hands on his knees.

“If - you want - Buck, go for - another - lap. I’ll just - wait here,” Steve had panted out. Bucky’s chest was also rapidly rising and falling, his prosthetic gleaming in the sunlight. Sam remembered not knowing how Bucky could possibly physically manage but the man just nodded once and then took off on the same circuit, even faster.

“What the fuck,” Sam said, out of both jealousy and awe.

“Yeah, he’s been a bit restless since he got back, but doesn’t know how to burn all the energy. He comes with me to the gym sometimes but between the two of us, we’ve broken enough equipment that I think they’re seriously going to ban us.” Sam just laughed and shook his head while Steve laid down enjoying the shade from the trees.

“The arm, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. I… they almost lost him. Saved him, but not the arm.” Sam didn’t want to pry. He knew of Bucky already, Steve had mentioned a lot of childhood stories but not in great detail.

“He’s back now,” Sam assures, because he knew sometimes people just needed to hear it.

“Yeah,” Steve closed his eyes. His breathing is starting to even out. Bucky comes around the corner again and slows his almost-run to a nice jog.

“Another?” Steve asked and that time, Bucky paused, hands on his waist as he breathed deeply. He gave a small shake of his head and Steve got up, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

“Good run, boys.”

Sam snaps out of his reverie when Bucky raps a knuckle on his doorframe; Sam hadn’t even heard the shower turn off. Bucky’s hair is still a bit damp despite his efforts to towel dry it and it’s kind of haphazardly strewn across his head which makes him look softer.

“Dinner?” Bucky asks and Sam realizes he hasn’t eaten all day. He tells Bucky as much and is disarmed by the charming grin on the other man’s face.

Bucky passes him some fresh sheets, offers to help him but then Sam orders him into the kitchen and Bucky leaves him to unpack, not that there’s much to it other than setting up a work desk with his laptop.

It doesn’t take long before the apartment starts to fill with the telltale sizzling of something being fried and Sam pops into the kitchen. On the other side of the island, Sam can definitely see chicken happening and there’s batter in a deep bowl, on the counter and on Bucky’s arm.

“Are you making what I think you’re making?” Sam asks, because he doesn’t want to presume but…

“I’m gonna beat The Fox and the Fiddle, mark my words,” Bucky states confidently and Sam’s stomach swoops at the cocky smirk on his face.

“Now that I can’t wait to see. Can I help with anything?” Bucky considers for a moment and then hands him the tongs.

“Take over? I’m gonna start on the sauce.”

“If you make a sauce better than the one at the Fox, I would eat my hat.” Bucky laughs, and Sam memorizes every tone.

“If we’re making bets here, I’m sure we can get more creative than eating a hat. Which you don’t wear. Ever.” And maybe Sam’s been spiralling lately because it sounds almost flirtatious but tries to just focus on not burning the chicken. Bucky alternates between the waffle iron and the sauce. Sam tries to peek at what Bucky’s sprinkling in but the damn bastard keeps blocking his view, almost as if he knew. He does smell the dill though when that comes into play, no hiding that.

When the chicken is done, Bucky boots Sam out of the kitchen back to the other side of the island and he plates everything like a damn chef.

“Beer?”

“Sure.”

Sam is thoroughly impressed, enough that the first bite literally leaves him speechless. Bucky swallows his bite and tilts his head to put his face in Sam’s direct line of sight.

“Sam?” And Jesus, Sam needs to get a grip on himself.

“This is sinful,” Sam finally finishes his first bite. “You’ve been holding out on us man, I didn’t know you could cook like this!” Bucky pretends to be offended.

“You guys thought Steve did the cooking? Are you nuts?!” And then he proceeds to launch into a story about how Steve once microwaved bowl noodles but forgot to add water first, and the time he forgot that he was boiling water, turning the pot black as coal. Which leads to Sam asking for more stories, and by the end of dinner, the two of them are laughing their asses off.

He learned a lot about Bucky, a lot of things he didn’t know or ever think of in the same breath as Bucky.

“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly says once they’ve stopped exchanging the funniest stories in their armoury trying to get the other to choke on their food.

“Sure?”

“How’d you know about the mac and cheese thing?” He thinks he kind of sounds like an idiot. “I just - even Steve didn’t know that.” Bucky takes a deep breath.

“Your sister - when she came that day,” Bucky says, like he’s carefully choosing his words. And Sam has to think about the last time Sarah had flown to visit him. It wasn’t that often - she had a business, kids, which meant she came up for the Big Stuff.

Like when Riley -

Oh. Oh. Despite the circumstances, Sam smiles at the memory. He was so relieved to see her, remembering how weak and exhausted he felt, clinging to his sister like she could save him. She kind of did, replicating Ma’s recipe, and they had the whole tray over the span of 6 hours with a white wine for her and (too many) beers for him. She couldn’t stay long, but he remembers that she came, for him.

“That… makes a lot of sense.”

“Was it buggin’ you that I knew or something?” Bucky asks, a little confused. Sam lets out a kind of bitter laugh.

“No, not like - it just surprised me, that you remembered,” Sam admits. “So, what’s your comfort food?” Bucky laughs again, and Sam loves how easy it is for Bucky now - that maybe he’s just always been this open, friendly guy one-on-one and Sam’s lost out on all of it because he was too much of a chickenshit to just ask Bucky to hang out, just the two of them.

“I’m not really sure, to be honest,” Bucky stares off into the distance. “There, uh, was a bit of time where I didn’t really… like eating? I ate of course, because I wasn’t trying to like, starve myself, or anything like that. Christ I thought Steve was going to get me committed. It’s just - I don’t know.”

“You had a complicated relationship with food.”

“Yeah, that. I mean, I was POW, they weren’t exactly feeding me gourmet meals, so anything kind of tastes great after,” he said a little dryly. Then he winces like he realized that his joke was distasteful. “Sorry.” Sam just shakes his head.

“The fact you can joke about it at all is an amazing feat, you know,” he says honestly. “And I’m sorry you went through that, I can’t imagine…” Bucky just smiles sadly.

“I’m home now,” Bucky just shrugs, and continues his meal. It reminds Sam of when he’d said that to Steve on their first run.

“Yeah, you are.” Sam realizes how strong Bucky truly is. To go through what he went through, not just with being captured but losing his arm and reintegrating, rehabilitating, and still functioning at such a high level. He tells Bucky as much, while they’re being open and all.

“It’s not - I’m really not,” Bucky stammers. “I still have bad days.”

“I think we all do,” Sam assures him.

“You never seem to,” Bucky blurts out. “I mean, like, you always seem - you smile, all the time. Help people. Talk to people. Everyone goes to you with their problems and you just fix ‘em like it’s nothing. Always knew you’d get the case worker position, it was a no-brainer.”

“I like helping people,” Sam shrugs, like it’s no big deal, even though he’s really surprised that Bucky was talking about him in such a light. “Helping people is what makes me happy.”

“Yeah, ‘course you’d say that,” Bucky grumbles with a smile before finishing his beer. “You just always seem to have it together, even after going through… well y’know. I always wished I was more like you in that sense.” Sam was a bit floored by the sudden admiration. Or… had he been a bit blind this whole time?

“That’s awfully nice of you to say, Buck.” The man doesn’t say anything, ducks his head instead and they finish the last few bites in a companionable silence.

He bullies Bucky into watching something on Netflix with him, since he’s been watching off his laptop for the past few days, not daring to even sit on the couch. It doesn’t take much, and Bucky one-ups him by cracking out ice cream and two spoons.

They sit close enough to share the tub between them, and Sam realizes how easily they’d spent the day together. Why hadn’t they done this before?

“Steve thinks it’s gross to eat ice cream straight from the tub,” Bucky grumbles.

“Uh, didn’t he sneeze on you?”

“Yeah, he fuckin’ did.” And the two of them laugh, easy and free, light and breezy.

“If it makes you feel any better, Nat writes my name on the orange juice because she thinks drinking from the carton is barbaric.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“She thinks that way about a lot of things. You ever try to get a spoonful of peanut butter for yourself when she has the tub out?”

“Suicide,” Sam nods solemnly so he can see the crinkle of Bucky’s eyes as he laughs.

The show finishes and Netflix, bless, autoplays the next episode as they finish with the carton and chuck it on the table.

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t just do it himself,” Bucky complains about the protagonist.

“Right?” Sam practically yells. “I can’t stand it."

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?” He turns to find Bucky facing him, his eyes a terribly beautiful shade of blue in the dim room, the lights from the TV flickering in them.

“Think maybe I could be reading this wrong but…” His voice and eyes trail off as he swallows thickly, his arm that’d been slung over the couch making its way to rest by Sam’s shoulder.

Sam’s heart thumps strongly against his chest, and the feelings he’s had these past few months just make sense. He can’t possibly think it’s anything else when Bucky leans in ever so slightly and Sam makes up the rest of the distance.

It’s slow and soft, vanilla-sweet and perfect as their bodies inch closer and closer until Sam’s able to get his arms around Bucky, the cool metal of Bucky’s hand cradling his face in return.

“Definitely not wrong,” Sam whispers when they break apart, foreheads resting against each other’s.

“Thank god.” Bucky’s thumb gently strokes across Sam’s cheek. “I’ve… I didn’t think you’d ever even look my way, to be honest.”

“You’re outta your damn mind,” Sam grunts before sliding his hands up Bucky’s torso, making the other man shiver, and resting them against his neck, thumbs just against the hard set of Bucky’s jaw. “Let me show you how much I’ve been looking.”

Bucky’s soft chuckle gets lost between them as Sam brings them together again. The stubble under the pads of his thumbs, Bucky’s arms around him, the laugh track coming from the TV - he’s not sure why it’d taken them so long to realize they were this perfect for each other.

And so, when Steve announces that he’s moving in with Sharon and Bucky is suddenly on the market for a new roommate, he doesn’t hesitate when Bucky hands him Steve’s old key.

For WinterFalcon Bingo 2021! [Bingo Square: Roommate] See also: [overall masterlist] & [Giveaway]

💖 Taglist: @anonnygon @jackiehollanderr @granpafrisbee @fanatic434 @aboukie

🙏 Thank you as always for reading!!!

[insomniamamma]

▼ ♦ Ez and Cee (and if you are so inclined Liminal Reader) 💚

Oooooh, I'm so happy you asked about the Liminal Au!!! For those who haven't read, Liminal is a contemporary Prospect AU in which Damon and Ezra are brothers. Damon, Ezra and Cee are involved in a car accident which kills Damon and severely injures Ezra which leads to him losing his arm. Ezra ends up being Cee's legal guardian. I haven't written for this AU in a while so this is a really fun ask.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Ezra: Damon is older than Ezra by just under two years. That closeness in age meant that they were very close growing up. They spent endless summers playing outside. They were both born of the time where people let their kids play outside all day long with little supervision. They'd build forts in the woods, climb trees. Ezra's favorite thing was to hunt for salamanders under rocks and Damon would indulge him, watching his baby brother's eyes get big when they found one, passing it between their cupped hands, and then carefully putting it back in the leaves.

Ezra was scared absolutely shitless of Darth Vader as a child. He would hide behind the couch as soon as Vader came on screen. He and Damon shared a room as kids, and on more than one occasion Ezra woke Damon up after a Star Wars induced nightmare.

"Darth Vader was standing at the end of my bed!"

"Go back to sleep, Ez,"

"He was right there!"

"You were dreaming, numbnuts,"

"I could hear him breathing, Damon!"

"Alright, fine, but don't be kicking me." Damon shoves over to let his little brother crawl into bed with him.

"Don't tell Ma, okay?"

"I won't. Go back to sleep, you big baby."

Cee: Cee's mother passed when she was small, not quite three years old. Cee's memories of her Mom are vague, blonde hair like hers, a smile and bright pealing laugh that would light up a room.

Despite this, Cee's early childhood was relatively happy. Cee was the kind of kid who gets into everything. Cee was the reason all the scissors in Damon's house are stored at least five feet up. At about five Cee got a hold of a pair of grown up scissors and proceeded to give herself haircut and trim the cat's whiskers. She'd started on the curtains before Damon saw what was happening and took the scissors away. Same deal with markers.

The first time Cee ever got in trouble at school was in first grade show and tell when one of her class mates brought a remote controlled robotic arm from Radioshack and told her she couldn't play with it because she was a girl. She socked him in the face. This was not the last time Cee got in trouble at school.

Loves science fiction and always has.

"Sunshine" (liminal AU Reader): Sunshine was an over-achiever as a child. She was all about good grades and perfect attendance. Of course she was mocked for being a nerd.

Loved "Lord of the Rings". Her Mom gave her a paperback edition of Lord of the Rings the summer of seventh grade. It blew her mind. She read those books untill they fell apart. Her folks listened to a lot of prog-rock, one of her most vivid memories hanging out in the garage with her Dad while he tried to fix the lawnmower with the 2112 Overture blaring.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Ezra: Ezra is an avid record collector. He is a firm believer that everything sounds better on vinyl. However, he refuses to go to the niche record shops that have popped up around town. For Ezra, the fun is in the discovery. He likes to prowl thrift stores and yard sales in search of treasure. And for Ezra, treasure can mean almost anything. His music tastes are wide ranging. He despises new music being pressed on vinyl. They don't know how to do it these days, he claims.

Ezra hates all soda except Dr. Pepper. But it has to be in cans. He swears that it tastes different out of plastic bottle.

Cee: Cee is a science fiction NERD. Hardcore. She's been to sci-fi marathons. She wants to go to cons, but has never quite made it. She loves science fiction, but she isn't pissy about it, she loves hard sci-fi like The Expanse, but she also loves Star Wars and things that border into fantasy. She doesn't care about the SFX and if they hold up over time, as long as the story is good. She loves "Explorers" and "Flight of the Navigator" and "Space Camp." Cee is a voracious consumer of sci-fi movies and shows and she is not picky about it.

Cee will not sleep with her door closed. She has to have a clear view into the hallway.

"Sunshine" : Sunny loves to garden, but is kind of lackadaisical about it. She will start a bunch of seeds, but then plant them too late because she's lost track of when they are supposed to go in the ground. Petunias are her favorite flower because they are colorful and damn near impossible to kill. She likes working in the yard, but doesn't quite have the attention span to keep up with it. She has several aloe plants on her windowsill and they do quite well.

Sunny low-key stalks her ex, The Asshole's, family on social media. She likes to report them for petty things.

send me headcanon asks

[chyrstis]

WIP Friday!

I’ve had some tags throughout the week, so I’m going to cash them all in here, since Friday’s the day and I might’ve been hoping to get this posted last night too, whoops! And I want to thank you all for tagging me even if I don’t always respond quickly! <3 I definitely intend to, but there’s never enough time in a day or a week, is there? 

Tagged by @redroci @tommymillers @jackiesarch @ma-sulevin and @amistrio and @adelaidedrubman !

Tagging: @writerofblocks @twistedsinews @painterofhorizons @hunnybadgerv @cobb-vanthss @shallow-gravy @nightwingshero @ma-sulevin @shellibisshe @jackalopestride @unlikelynick @geronimo-11 @fluttyseed @fadedjacket @weekend-writer @starsandskies @faithchel @belorage @tomexraider @consumedkings @vasiktomis @chazz-anova @aceghosts @ofravensandgenesis @scarlettkat86 (and if you’re already posted WIPs, don’t mind me one bit! no obligation or pressure’s ever intended)

First, a snippet from Lighting the Fuse’s Ch. 2 which I’d love to edit up and post this weekend, so here’s hoping I can kick myself in the butt hard enough to pull it off? *crosses fingers*

---

“Not tonight, hon. Not tonight.” Propping herself back up on her elbows, she gave him a smile. “You’re here now, though. So…how about it?”

“How about what?”

“You ask,” she replied, giving him a lazy smile. “Since I’m clearly on the cusp of benching you if you don’t.”

Sharky clapped his mouth shut. Stood there, rooted to the ground and didn’t let out a single peep. 

That boggled her completely. “Seriously, hon? Nothing?”

It was dark, but Hana could almost swear he was a shade of red darker than her hair right now. “You uh…. See I didn’t think it was-maybe you being asleep kinda threw off my groove a bit.”

Hana blinked at him. Watched a crooked smile settle onto his face as he let a nervous chuckle out.

“Like, like I mean I was gonna-was thinking of maybe doing this sorta-” His words trailed off as he clenched his teeth, swallowed hard, and let out a long exhale.  “Okay, so maybe this shit isn’t exactly-”

A loud sigh came from her left directly from the radio, and the sound filled the entire room.

“…Wait, what the fuck?” Sharky asked, his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. “You hear that?”

Clenching her fists, Hana slowly let her hands relax as she let the tension out. “Unfortunately.”

“Deputy, Deputy, Deputy. I know you’re listening. But I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose. I thought you wanted my attention. Would’ve been glad to finally have it undivided, and yet you deny me the pleasure of hearing a single response in turn. How…cruel.”

---

And a bit more of the Hana/Sharky one-shot I’ve been chipping away at, that’s actually getting really close to being finished too. I just need to jot down a few more moments for it and see if these two can actually clam up long enough to let me finish

---

“Yo, it’s not like I’ve been there any longer than a few days at a time, and half of the shit they’ve dragged me down to the jail for’s legal, just not in any of the spots I ended up doing it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, which is just fucking stupid seeing as lighting a fire by my house’s fine, but if it gets out to the street and catches on the trees ‘cause it’s extra dry out and the wind’s blowing, suddenly I gotta go in ‘cause I’m negligent or some shit. Then the po-po’s claiming I gotta have a permit to burn in the drier seasons, but it rains fucking plenty here.”

He’d draped his arm over her shoulders by this point, the motion coming so easily from him she hadn’t even noticed at first. Just nestled right into that warmth almost on reflex as Sharky kept on talking, and didn’t want to budge an inch if she could help it.

“Man, it’ll be the driest stretch of the year, and the sky’ll just open up and drop a bucket-load on us ‘cause it’s feeling it, but even if it don’t, anything I start’ll get put out. Just ‘cause I’m around doesn’t mean shit’s gonna go down, or nothing. ‘Cause then phone calls are made, people start looking at me funny, and I’m getting pulled out of my car for jack and shit when maybe I just wanted to take a breather there. Maybe get in a few Zs, take five to ten to jerk it, and they don’t gotta watch that too closely if I’m doing it either.”

She’d been nodding along with him, then stopped. Let that statement sink in as her eyebrows drew together before they rose high on her face.

“…Hon, that’s not legal.”

“Aw, come on, Dep! Don’t tell me there’s some kinda permit for parking out-“

“No, not that. You’d probably get slapped with a ticket or fine, sure, but it’s more about the fact that you were  beating it there.”

“It’s indoors.”

That response came quick enough for her to tilt her head back to look at him. To side-eye him heavily as he shrugged, and damn. She’d curled up to him a lot closer than she’d initially thought. Close enough to-

She cleared her throat.

---

And a little more of the No Cult AU, maybe? ...I may have watched Speed again last night entirely due to this. and it might also be up to almost 8K in length as well, pre-edits, so... Help 

---

But that didn’t solve the other problem. Towing it.

A truck would’ve been their best bet, but with him already there it didn’t make sense to try and scrape together cash for a tow truck, or to fire off a call to anyone down at the compound. His car had been used to drag Sr’s truck out of more than a few ditches without tearing the frame up, so this wasn’t a stretch to consider, and leaving them hanging now would’ve just been a shit thing to do when they didn’t even have a working phone or forty bucks between them. 

And while he’d never been able to get a tow bar to last more than a few months max, he had a few solid workarounds that could still get the job done. One of which he’d seen in a commercial a while back. 

He knew it almost by heart at this point, and cool as it’d be to fix their problem by just whipping his pants off and tying their vehicles together with them to help tow them to the compound, he’d gone down that road before. Hell, not just once, but twice now, and considering he’d been left between getting pepper sprayed and arrested, or having a busted set of jeans and his ass hanging out for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure he liked where that left him on round number three.

Besides these were a well-worn pair, and they seriously didn’t make them like they used to. Long as he tried not to get too creative with them, they had more than a few good years in them yet. So after some sifting and digging through the trunk of his car, Sharky kept his fingers crossed that he’d find an actual tow strap back there. He and Hurk had been through this dance enough times before that he knew he had one, and crossed his fingers that he hadn’t left it over at Sr.’s place. 

Sure enough, there it was. Fucking majestic, and almost crumpled in the back, Sharky withdrew one perfect tow strap and broke out a few moves to celebrate it before hitching the two together. 

Once it was secure, he told them all to hop in, and while trying to cram one extra person into his car was tough three other people might’ve been pushing it. John regularly had the best seat in the house and still hardly made it more than a few miles before fussing at him, and here they were double - and triple stacking themselves in any spare space in order to take a seat. Man, he was already thinking up ways to relay this story to Hurk later on, but with them semi-settled and packed safe as they could be, he fired the engine up and got them all back on the road. 

It wasn’t a far drive out to Joseph’s but he took his time with it. Drove the slowest he’d ever attempted short of being twelve and behind the wheel for the first time, trying to be extra gentle with it all as the van lumbered behind them.

If he went too fast, they’d tear the back of his car off and lose it. If they hit the brakes too hard, they’d get rammed, so he needed to nail that sweet spot. Keep from tipping from one end over into the other as he played his very own version of Speed out on this stretch of road, watching that needle dance back and forth over that perfect point as he started to sweat a little under his cap.

But he had this. Pressed his foot down on the gas and let up when he needed to, exercising the kind of control that even John would give a silent nod of approval to - which would almost make him the Keanu to his Sandra, except John wasn’t there and currently trying to crawl under any of this shit to keep a bomb from going off - but whatever, it was close enough.

So he watched the mile markers fly by as they got closer and closer to the island, and by the time they rolled through the gate and came to a stop, Sharky let out whatever breath he’d started holding, and didn’t even care when the van nearly smashed into them on the home stretch anyway.  

[erazonpo3]

hey look ma i made a map (not to scale please and thank you)

This is something I had fun playing around with on Inkarnate and it’s still liable to change in some ways but I’m generally happy with it! The idea was to make a map that extends beyond Corona to include all sorts of named regions from disney properties (and some of my own), but also be compliant with TTS (for the most part. I’m not responsible for in-universe incongruences for one thing). 

Side note: I made a Spreadsheet with all of the named Disney kingdoms that appear in extended media (like books and comics n stuff) so that I could nab them and cry ‘it’s canon whatever mom’ but more so I didn’t have to come up with names. You’re welcome to peruse it and use it as a resource too! it’s all disney props

To go into a bit more detail; 

Canon stuff

A majority of the map is me trying to keep the S2 journey in mind, with stops like Lumbard’s Pass and the Forest of No Return being necessitated by mountain ridges etc that would make detours around them a huge pain in the ass. For instance, it’s faster to reach the spire from Corona by flying over Kresten Loch, so the spire needs to be positioned in a way that it would be a straight line from Corona but requires a trip through the FoNR by foot. 

In Freebird Rapunzel mentions the “cliffs of Koto” so I took that for them being either in Koto or adjacent to it. Then in King Pascal Eugene mentions the black rock path leads them to the water/ocean, so that necessitated this huge bight in the land where they can then get knocked off-course to Terapi Island. More mountains because why in the hell would they go through Lumbard’s Pass + The Great Tree if there was easy access any other way? And yeah they could go by ocean but I figure the caravan just isn’t meant for open sea travel for very long, and shipping a caravan across a long voyage is a steep price even for a Princess. 

I know this does make travel between Koto and Blavenia virtually impossible but whatever. There probably are plenty of travel paths but most of them require mules and you don’t take a caravan. Anyway then they reach Skoteníyi which is what I’ve named the Dark Kingdom (It’s based on a headcanon I won’t get into now), and then of course Rapunzel + co minus Cass fly back to Corona via hot air balloon. 

The obvious thing here is that technically the distance between Corona and the Dark Kingdom isn’t particularly far, but the terrain is awful to travel by foot/wagon which is why the S2 journey takes as long as it does. Extra notes are that Lost Lagoon lists Yultadore, Dionda and Antipe as kingdoms that lie on Corona’s border so I squeezed them in where I could. 

My touches to the map

Points where I’ve put my personal spin on things is largely in the geography of all the regions surrounding the S2 journey and how those mountain ranges might affect/inform the geopolitics etc. I put in some big mountains encircling Corona which makes the wall a very strong strategic piece of defensive infrastructure, which only makes sense if Yultadore + Bayangor + Dionda were historically its rivals. 

Bayangor has since allied itself with Corona but maybe doesn’t get as much help as it would like. As you’ll see in my 2nd pic of the map I’ve outlined the 7 Kingdom Alliance as per the named kingdoms in Beginnings, and notable exceptions to this alliance are Yultadore + Vakretta and Equis. So Yultadore + Vakretta get to be historic rivals of Corona, and Equis gets left out because nobody likes King Trevor. (I definitely wanted to have Equis on a peninsula that’s landlocked entirely by Corona to say that yeah, this kingdom does have sovereignty but only because Corona lets it exist and they all know it). 

The 7 Kingdom Alliance in this verse is necessitated, I imagine, by how god damn terrible travel is through the northern half of this region and if Corona (one of the strongest trade regions by dint of connecting the north to the south) wants to make a trade pact with you in return for some political pressure, then you’re sure as hell going to take it. Another fun tidbit is that the Dark Kingdom is so far across the continent from Corona and so difficult to reach it sort of does make sense why Corona just. Forgot about it. 

(Note also that while a lot of the land in Skoteiníyi is infertile, there are edges on the border that are free for the taking by its border friends. Have fun with that, Edmund.) Refugees probably headed south to Yuwabe and Zaria as less hostile/difficult regions and spread from there, which is why Adira and Hector can be found wandering the southern half of the continent in the CTA AU. 

I’ve also spoken about the region of Eltaire-Sère before as the region in which Ilione lives, and I’ve settled on it being in Dionda- which now places Dionda as Corona’s south-eastern rival. As you can see there’s mountains almost completely encircling the region so it’s nearly impossible to stage military battles there so it just gets passed back and forth in treaties, and as of current TTS the region belongs to Corona even though it’s actually outside the wall and looks like it should belong to Dionda. Culturally, the region is a pretty strong blend of both Corona and Dionda (probably leaning more towards Diondan) so Lio gets two for one. 

Cassandra’s (first) journey

I’ve mapped out Cass’ journey in blue and it’s not really set in stone because I care less about the where of where she’s going and more about what’s happening there, but nevertheless I wanted it to be visually distinct from the S2 journey which is why she travels south before making a stop at Terapi Isle (hello Lady Caine funny seeing you here) and finally catching up with Alphecca in her homeland of Vakretta. It’s also worth mentioning here that one of the upsides to being a Lich in this verse as opposed to a ghost is that there’s no limits on where Alphecca can physically travel, and she spends a lot of time wandering around which is why Cass first runs into her in Jeojin/Yirov.  

I haven’t figured out as much on the geography of the southern section of the continent because unlike the S2 journey I can do whatever the hell I want with it, so I have full creative control but also I don’t have any markers like “Cass HAS to pass through here so make a detour impossible”. Nevertheless I like that the southern part of the continent is largely flat; compared to the northern half travelling is a breeze, which means the timeline is simply up to however long I want Cassandra to spend in one place. 

I figure in her 2nd journey she heads up north towards our dear friends in Arendelle as she travels around Sídiros (Iron Kingdom) in what coincides with Varian’s journey, but I haven’t really figured out what that’d look like yet. 

Varian 7K stuff

Timeline-wise Varian’s journey doesn’t start until Cassandra gets back from her 1st journey. Nevertheless I’ve mapped it out because I like being able to visualise it, and it lets me work in the 7 Trial Kingdoms into the map and worldbuilding. 

Jeojin is the “Fire Kingdom”, Dovena is the “Water Kingdom”, and Ardhyewa is the Air Kingdom. I didn’t want Cass and Varian’s journey to completely overlap, but Cass does visit Jeojin on her way out of Dionda and she hits up Ardhyewa to give Nuru + Ara a cameo. Torres is actually one of the named disney properties but I figured it’d make a perfect “Earth Kingdom”. Varian then travels through Yuwabe to hit the Dark Kingdom and then Sídiros as the “Iron Kingdom”, and the outline never mentions how the hell they get back to Corona from there so I figure they probably double back to the Dark Kingdom in which an air balloon is waiting for them. Idk it’s not my problem. 

A fun fact is that Varian’s journey intersects with Cass’ 2nd journey in the Iron Kingdom/Sídiros, in Solanales- if you’re familiar, Solanales is where the Countess Violante rules. Cue Cass trying her damn hardest to shuffle these kids THE HELL out of dodge. Countess Violante is also one of Donella’s biggest rivals in terms of her crusade against the IK aristocracy, so Cass + Donella work together in a “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” situation, which is of course hilarious when Varian assumes Cass has turned evil again because she’s working with 'the bad guy’ of his journey. 

He thinks she’s evil again and she’s like do you want Violante to commit a genocide hello??? funny stuff

Conclusion

so anyway thats it i love talking geopolitics

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Thank you all so much for your support with this story.

Sorry for the delay with this next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Previous

Chapter 10: From Posing to Plus One

I adjust the numerous cushions behind me on the purple velvet chaise longue and take another sip from my glass of champagne. This luxurious moment is marred somewhat by the underwire in my strapless bra digging painfully into soft tissue. With my free hand, I surreptitiously try and manoeuvre it into a more comfortable position.

“Claire, after this we have tae get ye a new bra, fer the dress.” Geillis has noticed. She notices everything.

She is sitting on the edge of a lavender boudoir chair, so full of excitement, I can practically see the air humming around her. She can’t seem to keep still, her legs constantly jiggling while the fingers of one hand beat a tattoo on the arm of the chair. Despite all the movements, the champagne in her glass remains unspilt, unsurprisingly.

Eventually, the sales assistant enters holding aloft a large white garment bag. “Here ye go, ma pet. If ye jes’ want tae pop behind the screen over there, we’ll get ye sorted.”

Geillis disappears behind the screen, while I continue to savour the champagne and take a good look at my surroundings. This room is like being in a big fluffy cloud. The walls are white with huge white wooden open wardrobes, filled with masses of lace, frills and satin. One wall has a full length mirror set in an ornate gilt frame. The floorboards are painted white as are the shutters at the windows. The only splashes of colour are from the chaise longue and two boudoir chairs, which do look somewhat incongruous against the overwhelming whiteness, like burlesque performers stuck in a room full of angels.

But perhaps they couldn’t risk white seating. All the shuffling bottoms, fake tan and spilt wine would play havoc with pristine upholstery—less virginal and more slightly seedy and used. The velvet decadence is probably preferable.

“How’s it going, Geillis?” I call across the room.

“Fine,” a muffled voice responds.

I am certainly enjoying this experience—wedding dress shopping with Geillis. It’s not something I ever imagined doing for myself, so to share it with my best friend is great. Even when I was a little girl, I never seemed to dream about weddings. I never played weddings with my dolls— I was far too busy bandaging them up, healing their imaginary diseases and, on one memorable occasion, amputating the left leg of my Tiny Tears. (In my eight year old self’s defence, it was a necessary intervention to save her from imminent death—her leg had already turned black with marker pen and all it took was a sharp pair of kitchen scissors and some red wool to stitch up with.)

And so I am thoroughly enjoying this new experience of visiting bridal shops and choosing dresses. All the pleasure and none of the wedding planning. Geillis has already dropped a dress size due to pre-wedding stress and I hope she doesn’t drop anymore—this is our final fitting.

I take the last sip from my glass. While Geillis is still being manhandled into her dress, I quietly lean over, take her half full glass from the (white) side table, pour some into my glass and relax back against the cushions.

And just in time as Geillis emerges from behind the screen.

The expression ‘take my breath away’ is often used, but in this case it is genuine. I’ve seen the dress before. I was with her when she chose it, but to see her in it now, well, I’m speechless. I want to rush over and hug her, but of course, I can’t for fear of spoiling the pristine fabric.

It’s a simple dress. Cream chiffon pleated Grecian style with a fitted strapless bodice and a long floaty skirt full of tiny intricate pleats that make the fabric lift and swirl around her as she moves. A plain cream veil cascades from the back of her head adding to the ethereal image. She looks like a goddess.

A goddess until she opens her mouth. “What d’ye think, then? This dress is bloody gorgeous, is it no’?”

She stands in front of the mirror, and twirls around, trying to glimpse it from every angle.

I feel my eyes prick with tears. “Oh, Geillis, you look absolutely beautiful. It’s just… just… lovely. You’re lovely and it fits like a dream. Dougal is a lucky man.”

“He is. And I make sure he knows it.”

The sales assistant is hovering around, straightening imaginary creases, checking the dress. Finally, Geillis stops moving and allows her to cast a professional eye over the fit. Once satisfied, she directs Geillis behind the screen once more, for the reverse transformation.

Geillis pulls a face as, clad again in jeans and t-shirt, she sits down and picks up her glass. She views it with suspicion, before shooting me a glance and taking a gulp. I try to look innocent.

“All ma clothes are sae boring now,” she pouts. “ I want tae wear that dress every day and never take it off.”

“Not very convenient in theatre, though, love,” I console her. “And think how special it’s going to be when you put it on for your wedding.”

“Aye, I suppose ye're right. And now it’s yer turn. C’mon now.”

The sales assistant returns with another garment bag and I follow her behind the screen.

There’s something quite uncomfortable about being dressed by someone else, I decide as I stand in my bra and knickers, arms stretched above my head waiting for the dress to slither down my body. I mean, obviously my parents would have dressed me when I was little, not that I can remember that, but by the time I went to live with Lamb, I was fully able to dress myself. He would have to do the occasional rebuttoning of cardigans, or zipping up of anoraks, but that was all.

The dress slips over my head and down my body. Now is the moment of truth as the sales assistant lifts my arm and pulls up the side zip. I breathe a sigh of relief (yes, I can actually breathe); the dress fits like a glove, or rather like a dress that’s been tailored to my exact measurements.

I step out from the screen to a round of applause from Geillis. “Claire, ye’re gorgeous. Ye look stunning in that dress.”

I sashay towards the mirror, enjoying the feeling of the fabric as it dances around my calves. In style, it’s not dissimilar to Geillis’, the same intricate chiffon pleats on the bodice and skirt. But my bridesmaid dress has one shoulder and is, as I was informed, ‘seafoam’ in colour.

That name is so descriptive; neither blue nor green yet both at the same time, and, as my skirt swirls around my legs, it’s easy to picture the ocean waves lapping against my ankles.

“D’ye like it?” Geillis sounds genuinely concerned.

“I love it.” And I do, I really do.

There’s just one thing, I realise as I continue to twist around. Geillis was right. I do need a new bra.

***********

With the two garment bags safely stowed in the wardrobe of Geillis’ spare bedroom, we celebrate with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

I curl my legs up on the sofa and watch as Geillis switches on her laptop, ready to update all her wedding preparation spreadsheets with today’s activities. She sticks her tongue out in concentration as she scrolls through all her information, finally finding the appropriate worksheets. A few taps of the keyboard and it’s done. She doesn’t switch off but continues to look at the screen.

Eventually she speaks. “Claire, I need tae know. This weekend we’ve tae give the numbers tae the hotel and I want tae do the seating plan. Are ye bringing a plus one? I mean, it’s ok if ye’re no’.”

I feel really bad about not letting Geillis know sooner. I mean, after the rugby club, it appears  that Jamie and I have somehow become each other’s ‘plus one’, but I haven’t yet decided whether to ask him to the wedding. That somehow seems more intimate—and the thought of him being interrogated by my friends fills me with dread.

“I haven’t asked anyone yet. When do you need to know?”

“By ‘anyone’ I take it ye mean Jamie? Who else would be yer plus one? Frank?” She pulls a face at that idea. “And I need tae know by tomorrow night. It doesna matter if ye dinna bring anyone…Angus isna bringing anyone either. He’d be thrilled tae accompany ye.”

I grimace instinctively. I met Angus, Dougal’s brother, at Geillis’ last New Year's Eve party and he was more than a little, shall we say, full on. I could cope with his hands, although it was rather like trying to wrangle an octopus. Midnight was a different matter as he tried to turn a polite peck into a full snog, tongue and all.

“Ok, I’ll ask Jamie tomorrow. We're going running.”

Geillis bursts out laughing, which rapidly turns into a coughing fit. “Running? Ye?” she croaks between coughs. “Oh ma love, I’d pay good money tae see that.”

******************

I don’t consider myself unfit. I try to do yoga every week and all those hours in theatre keep me pretty active. But running isn’t something I ever imagine myself doing, let alone actually enjoy.

Jamie first suggested it to me a couple of weeks ago. As usual, I didn’t have to say a word, my face told him what I thought of the idea. He then proceeded to agree with me, declaring that he didn’t think I had the stamina for that kind of exercise. I knew exactly what he was doing—a blatant attempt at reverse psychology. Did he really think I would fall for that?

Anyway, I’ve arranged to meet him in the park at our bench. I eye the coffee kiosk wistfully. It’s too early in the morning for it to be open, or indeed for anybody to be around, save a few fellow runners and some dog walkers. Perhaps, it will be open by the time we’ve finished.

I hold onto the bench and practice a few lunges, trying to look as though I know what I’m doing.

“Ye’re wobbling a bit,” a familiar voice calls from behind.

Immediately I stand up and turn to face him.

“Morning, how are ye? Looking forward tae this?” He sounds far too cheerful for this early on a Sunday.

“Of course.” I don’t tell him that usually all I want on a Sunday morning is coffee and a cinnamon bun.

He checks his watch. “Well, mebbe yer man’ll be open fer coffee when we get back.”

I don’t believe it. Are all my friends mind readers?

I shrug, trying to look like it never crossed my mind.

“Sae,” he continues. “We’ll start off wi’ 5 minutes brisk walking tae warm up, then mebbe 15 minutes alternating between slow running and walking and finish off wi’ 5 minutes walking tae cool down. I dinna want ye tae do too much as it’s yer first time and I think that’ll be more than enough fer ye.”

Here we go—Jamie and his reverse psychology again. How obvious.

“Oh well,” I reply. “I think we can do more than that. I’ll be fine.”

He smirks as he sets the timer on his watch. “OK, Sassenach, whatever ye say.”

*************

I don’t think I’ve ever seen so welcome a sight as the open shutters on the coffee kiosk. It may be my imagination but, even from this distance, I can smell the freshly brewed coffee. And, boy, do I need it.

I let my pride override my commonsense and actually ran-slash-walked for ten minutes more than Jamie had planned, finishing with a totally unnecessary sprint, or rather my pathetic attempt at one, before the cool down. And now I’m paying the price. My face is burning hot, my t-shirt is one huge sweat patch and my legs feel like they’re made from rubber.

Jamie, on the other hand, is strolling towards the kiosk looking as though he’s barely broken into a sweat. I think it literally was ‘a walk in the park’ for him today.

I sit down on the bench, shifting awkwardly as the sweat trickles down my back and between my cheeks. What I really need is a long, hot shower…

Jamie comes and joins me on the bench, his hands full with coffee and a couple of mysterious bags. He deposits his purchases between us and settles himself. I hope he’s not downwind of me. I don’t think I’m smelling my sweetest at the moment.

He passes me a coffee and a bag.

“Here ye go, I reckon ye’ve earned it. I didna ken what ye wanted. That’s an almond croissant, but I’ve a pain au raisin here if ye’d prefer.”

I accept the almond croissant and coffee gratefully.

“How d’ye feel now?” He asks as he takes a large bite of his pastry.

“I feel fine.” I lie.

“Hmm. Actually, ye did well today. Better than I thought. Ye’ll be running a five k before we know it.”

I stare at him, not sure if he’s being sarcastic, but, no, there’s a genuine smile on his face as he takes another bite of his pastry.

“Not sure about that.” I’m thinking that once is enough.

“Nonsense, ye should do this regularly. I’ll help ye, if ye like.”

“But won’t I hold you back with my slow pace?”

“Doesna matter. I run a couple of times a week anyway. I can do this as well.”

“I’ll think about it.” I break a piece of my croissant off and pop it in my mouth. It is delicious and totally guilt free. I’ve earned it.

We are quiet for a moment, both of us savouring the coffee and treats. I am also pondering how best to ask Jamie about Geillis’ wedding. I know I have to ask him today, but I don’t want him to feel obliged to attend, I need to offer him a way to decline without feeling guilty.

“So,” I begin, a bit hesitant. “I was wondering…of course, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to… but you know I’m a bridesmaid at Geillis’ wedding and I was wondering, well, if you wanted to accompany me…be my plus one.”

“I won’t mind if you don’t want to come. That’s fine too.” I add quickly.

“Ye sound like ye dinna want me tae come.” He watches my face, maybe looking for clues as to what I actually want.

“I do…but only if you want to. You don’t have to.” I’m still giving him a guilt free way out.

“But, ye want me tae come, do ye?” He looks a little bit perplexed, unsure what to do.

“Yes, obviously—“

“Well, Sassenach, in that case I accept. It will be ma pleasure.”

[ursulaismymiddlename]

“All That’s Best of Dark and Bright” (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Epilogue - Completed

Well, it's been nearly 3 years since my last update and I felt it was time to give up the ghost.  The muse for this fic hasn't been very kind to me, but I was able to write the epilogue for the fic way back when.  So now I'm sharing this to finally put this fic (and my guilt about it) to rest.  Maybe, one day, when I'm old and gray, I'll go back and try to write the chapter that should have been before this and all the deleted scenes/one-shots I had in mind for after.  But today is not that day.  In the meantime, enjoy what was to be the epilogue for the story itself.... Sorry for the wait.

On AO3

---

A warm breeze carried the scent of sweetgrass and fresh-turned soil past you, yet the normally pleasant smell was more off-putting given the location.  The crisp spring day seemed a stark contrast to the rows of gravestones you strode past, your daughter tucked in your arms.  She’d been walking on her own for a while now, but it had been a long day and her little legs could only hold out so long.  Her face was tucked in the crook of your neck now, dozing lightly with her small feet dangling and her arms thrown around your neck in a hug.  Maybe you should have had her keep practicing across the somewhat uneven ground, but how could you pass up holding your sweet little girl with her father’s dimpled chin and your sister’s name.  Besides, it was probably best she was out of it for what you were about to do.

Stopping in front of one of the plots, you bit at your lower lip quietly a moment, uncertain how to start.  Your eyes roamed the marker as your heart thundered in your chest, eyes tracing along the letters etched in stone.  Barnes.  The name made your gut twist in knots and you had to take a shaky breath to steady yourself.

“Well, Buck.  You told me I had to tell you.  No matter where you were at or what you were doing,” you spoke quietly.  You had to sniff against the tears forming in your eyes, pet your daughter’s soft, dark curls before you could go on.  “I’m pregnant again, Bucky.  Gonna be another little Barnes running around.  Can you believe it?”

Silence met you in those few heartbeats, even the wind in the trees seeming to have stopped, waiting.  Then Bucky’s face turned up to greet you from where he knelt at the foot of the grave, his expression overjoyed and overwhelmed in equal measure despite the dark circles under his eyes from a fitful night’s rest.  After a second, he surged to his feet to grip the back of your neck and haul you in for a kiss.  Of course he’d be happy, ecstatic.  It was probably only the first stirrings of hormones that had you worrying otherwise.

“No foolin, right, sweetheart,” he breathed hopefully against your lips when he rested his forehead to yours.  “You wouldn’t play with an old man’s heart like that, would ya?”

“I just got off the phone with the doctor’s office.  I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew for sure,” you answered with a fond roll of your eyes as you grasped his hand to press his palm low on your belly.  His delighted laughter was infectious, crinkling the corners of his adoring eyes even as he turned back toward the row of grave markers.

“Ya hear that Ma? Pop,” he asked, a soft sob to his voice through his wide grin.  His eyes fell to where his fingers rested, thumb brushing aimlessly along your stomach as he stared nearly awestruck.  “Gonna be a dad again.  My sweetheart’s givin me another baby.”

“Daddy,” a small voice spoke from your shoulder, little fists rubbing against tired eyes.

“Aw, c’mere, sugar plum,” Bucky cooed sweetly.  The excitement in his voice was barely contained as he carefully took her from you, tucking her in the crook of his metal elbow with a little bounce.  “I’m sorry.  Daddy didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“No sleep, daddy,” she protested with a yawn before leaning in to press her cheek under his chin.  Her eyes slowly drifted shut again as little fingers reached up to grasp near the buttons of his shirt and Bucky ducked his head to press a kiss into her hair.

His gaze returned to you, that soft, loving expression lighting his face as his free hand cupped your jaw with flesh fingers.  As you pressed into his touch, you finally realized your cheeks had begun to ache from how much you’d been smiling.  Bucky leaned in to kiss you again, warm and lingering, like he couldn’t pull away, and even after all this time it still made your heart flutter.

“Jesus, baby, another baby,” he chuckled at himself.  Then a proud grin lit up his face.  “Can’t wait ta tell the guys.  They’re gonna be so excited.”

You fixed him with an admonishing look as you pulled his hand from your cheek to tug him toward the car.  “Oh no you don’t, mister.  You better not say a thing at the party tonight.”

“C’mon, a party’s the perfect place to tell everyone,” Bucky countered, shooting a look back over his shoulder to his parents’ plot.  You let him go, scolding yourself for being so rude and trying to rush him away.  But he only paused a moment longer, nose buried in your daughter’s hair as she snored gently.  When you slipped your hand low on his back, he hooked his arm around your shoulders to tuck you into his side before moving to guide you down the grassy row.  

You were nearly back at the car when Bucky spoke again, opening up the back door where the carseat waited.  “Can’t believe you don’t want me ta share the good news tonight.”

“Bucky,” you clucked your tongue, but with no real ire in your voice as he strapped your daughter in.  “Tonight is about Sam and Steve, not us.”

“It’s a housewarming, not an engagement party,” he snickered as he tried to click the harness quietly to avoid jostling the baby too much.  “Besides, everyone, everyone, knew before me last time.”

A little hand stayed wrapped around Bucky’s until he carefully removed it, replacing his wrist with the arm of the giant stuffed polar bear in the seat beside.  It had gone through quite a bit since he’d won it for you, from the weeks and months you were apart and it was your only comfort, to becoming your daughter’s near-constant companion after daddy told her it would watch over her in his place whenever he absolutely had to be away on a mission.  Its white fur was dingy now, with a few colorful stains and spots where you’d had to mend seams from a bit of rough handling, but it was well-loved and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Okay, fine,” you said, relenting as Bucky straightened himself from the backseat.  “You can tell Steve and Sam and if they give the go ahead, you can make a big deal out of it.”

“As you wish,” he smiled with a mischievous glint while settling his hands at your waist and smothering you in another kiss that had you leaning back against the car.  Maybe you both knew those two men, who called themselves uncles before you even had a chance to, would be almost as excited as Bucky was.

After managing to pull away to catch your breath, you couldn’t help tugging the front of his shirt affectionately.  “So, you ready for another nine months of me waddling around, fat and moody?”

“Are you kiddin me, sweetheart?”  Bucky crooked an amused eyebrow at you.  “I dunno how you managed it, but you were even more beautiful when you were carryin our little girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you scoffed gently and shoved lightly at his broad chest.

It didn’t bother him one bit.  Instead, a cheeky grin spread his face and he dipped his head closer to speak in a lower tone.  “Besides, I can’t wait til them hormones hit ya and you won’t be able to keep your hands off me again.”

You snorted, trying not to be too loud with the baby sleeping closeby.  What a joke.  Since when have you ever been able to keep your hands off him?  To prove the point, you reached around and slipped your fingers into his back pockets, pulling him closer to you, which he easily complied with.  “Are you sure you can keep up with me again, old man?  We could see about getting you some Viagra...”

“Oh, you don’t gotta worry about that, kid.  Ya smart ass,” Bucky chuckled under his breath with a shake of his head, tip of his nose brushing yours before he pressed his lips to yours again.  

He kissed you thoroughly, taking his sweet time despite the awkward locale.  But stealing moments in the strangest of places and at the oddest of times had become practically a necessity since your daughter came along.  How you’d found time to make another was a miracle.  So, there were no qualms keeping you from slipping your fingers through his hair and giving over to him momentarily, letting him pour some of his joy back into you and melting a little more when his hand found your stomach again to palm just below your belly button.  The gentle intimacy of the touch sent a fluttering through your gut.  Your arms were still looped around his neck when the two of you parted, but he had no interest in moving away at the moment.  Bucky tilted his head back to regard you with a tender, disbelieving expression.

“You’re too good to me, солнышко,” he said quietly, in that familiar, vulnerable tone.  “After what I been through, I couldn’t let myself hope.  Now I got more’n I ever coulda dreamed of.  How’s a bum like me get so lucky?”

“You deserve this, Bucky,” you replied, cutting off the protest forming on his lips with a furrow of your brow and a gentle tug of his hair.  “You deserve to be happy.  You’ve earned it.”

Tongue darting out along his lower lip, Bucky shook his head with a huff before setting his smile back on you.  “And what about you, huh, Mrs. Barnes?  How’re you feelin?” 

“What can I say, Sarge,” you sighed, teasing, knowing the title sent a thrill through him as much as calling you by his last name.  Regarding him a moment, you remembered the way he looked the first time you met him, when he’d been shuffled into your house, stoic and disheveled and displaced.  Though he was still occasionally plagued by his past, it was a far cry from the man standing in your arms now.  The man who mucked through hell and still wanted to do good.  Who you were meant to help and helped you too.  Your husband, the father of your child.  Children, now.  Your fingers slid from his hair to grip his chin affectionately.  “I guess I’m just a sucker for a happy ending.”

Another bright smile greeted you as you pulled Bucky in for one more kiss before he carefully, quietly shut the back door of the car and helped you into the passenger seat.  He rounded the front of the car to slide behind the wheel, taking a glance in the backseat to check on your daughter before the engine roared to life.  Once he had the car in gear, his fingers slipped between yours on the console, thumb caressing gently over your knuckles as he threw you a grin and pulled away from the curb.

---

 @hollysleeps @nuvoleincielo @creideamhgradochas@interestedbystanderwrites @the-squid-one @flung-through-galaxies@buckybarnesisalittleshit @callalilyiskewl @firewolfkelly @feelmyroarrrr @booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy @jacks-on-krack  @marvelbros-oneshots @mrshopkirk @xxchexchickxx @sebeefstianstan @timelady12 @angryschnauzer  @theladymakai@kiwi71281   @melonberri@vaisabu @ryverpenrad @inkededucatednnerdy @kaaatniss @captain-amelia-bradley @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @learisa  @bakexprayxlove@theerikasanchez @4theluvofall @mllx-anazra @tothetardissterek@crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @thinkwritexpress-official

“All That’s Best of Dark and Bright” Tag List: @hispeculiartreasure @clutter-buck @mellon-collie@paulaamarieee @mjnthefandomwriter @undiscl0sed-desir3s@procrastinatingvirgo @levirivaillelover  @fullmetalavatar54   @fangirlwithasweettooth@azzylion @portrait-ninja @immundusspiritu @usannika@sporadicalpacacloud @juliagolia87 @vesraen @tsulakurotsuchi   @sephiratales @damn-fandoms  @whenlucasmetmaya   @earinafae @kenobi-and-barnes @mizzzpink @srgtjamesbarnes107 @krisaglar @maudelebowski29 @captainpoopweinersoldier

[statichvm]

— oc tag meme.

nobody tagged me, i’m just out of things to do at work and wanted to do this for a newer kid.

tagging @jackiesarch @shellibisshe @foofygoldfish @dredgenyoure @ma-sulevin @chuckhansen @queennymeria @prometheas @jmiacolt @simonxriley @bvckybvnes @nightwingshero @gorotakemura and @trvelyans

rules: always, never, sometimes

— LIGHT SOURCES

SUN RAYS.

effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.

INCANDESCENT BULBS.

crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.

STARDUST.

lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.

CANDLE FLAMES.

denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.

MOONBEAMS.

newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.

AURORAS.

combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.

FIREWORKS.

dancing until the break of dawn, Heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair.

— BODY LANGUAGE

DEFENSIVENESS.

arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth

REFLECTIVE.

hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION.

arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE.

hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY.

chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION.

short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

— SENSES

SIGHT. small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york night city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures. bright, bold colours.

HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and a / c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.

TOUCH. being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.

TASTE. coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.

[feminaexlux]

Branded

It’s the @lukanette-exchange fic! After a long while it’s here!! @kingsglaivian I hope you enjoy! Also thanks to LBSC and @quickspinner in particular for finding the cool soulmark prompt lol

I am super, super excited to share this with you!

Original prompts: “childhood friends AU, soulmate AU, and an AU of the exchangee's choice.”

∴

It’d been just a few minutes after they first met when she first wrote her name on him.

She had come closer and stared over his shoulder when she saw he’d been drawing something. Was it a drawing? It looked like he had been drawing circles on a bunch of lines. Oh, Maman had showed her how music was written, it was music! “Hi! Are you drawing music?” She had asked cheerfully.

The boy had startled, apparently not having seen Marinette earlier. His pencil had marked across the entire page. “Aah!”

“Oh no!” Marinette whined. “You messed up!”

“Y-you made me do that,” he frowned. “You scared me.”

“Are you drawing music?” Marinette continued asking.

“Oh, yeah, yeah I am,” he said, turning the pencil around and erasing the errant mark. “I think about music all the time.”

“So what does that mean?” she asked, poking at his paper.

“That’s uh… that's…” he thought a bit. “I think that’s D and the next one is F and another D but this one’s higher. It’s a song from a video game.”

“You play video games?! Papa and I play games too!”

They talked back and forth about a bunch of different little things and he completely forgot what he’d been doing. Then it got to the point where Marinette had pulled out one of her markers and started writing her name on his arm. “– and if stays tomorrow it means you found your true love!” Marinette smiled up at the boy she’d been talking to. He looked like he was a few years older. Maybe he was even 10? Maybe he was younger, he looked really kinda small to be 10.

She was at the playground next to her family’s bakery. She’d been running around and playing with a few other kids there, but she saw this one boy sitting by a tree in the shade. He looked like he was alone and Marinette wondered if he’d been bullied. She knew what that was like, even at the tender age of 5. But it was easy to talk to this boy, he was much less Crazy Mean Boy than Kim was. He was more like Nino! And Nino was nice.

“Is that your name?” the boy asked, staring at her neatly written letters. “Marinette?”

“Yeah!”

“So if it stays tomorrow you’re my true love?” He asked, confused. “Mom told me that writing names on other people is bad… But why?”

“Maman and Papa have their names on each other’s arms,” Marinette said. “It’s not bad! Oh but you have to draw over it ‘cause it’s important that you do it,” Marinette added.

“Why?”

“It’s important,” she clarified. It looked like he was going to keep asking why until his mom called out.

“Ay laddie, it’s time to go,” a lady with a long braid said in their general direction. She had a girl on her hip and was walking over to the boy. “Why hello there lass, are ye makin’ friends with me boy?”

“I’m Marinette,” she said up to the lady. She wasn’t Lass, she wanted to say.

Marinette saw the boy quickly pull down his sleeves from his hoodie to hide her name. “Itwasnicetomeetyoubye,” he said quickly, before Marinette could whine about him hiding her name. He ran away to hold onto his mom’s hand. “Let’s go mom,” he continued, pulling his mom away in a slightly embarrassed fashion.

“Don’t ye want to say farewell? We won’t be ashore fer a while son.” Well, she didn’t know at the time he had wanted to run away and hide so the nice new girl wouldn’t be weirded out by his mom like most people were.

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette yelled after him.

She didn’t.

∴

It’d been just a few days after they first met.

Luka scrubbed and scrubbed at the M on his wrist but it wasn’t coming out. He’d scrubbed himself raw at the sink, his flesh feeling tender and his skin close to bleeding. He’d written over the girl’s marker with a pen a few days ago, idly curious if the mark would stay. At least he’d written over just the M, thinking about the nice girl who’d been curious about him.

“Luka?” He heard his mom call out. No, no, no. It wasn’t coming out and his mom would see it and she’d freak out and he’d have to make an excuse or find some of her makeup or something. He’d been told to take off his hoodie by… that man and so he ran back to the bathroom to try to do something about the M on his wrist.

Anarka opened the door. “Luka, my boy what are ye–” Oh no oh no she saw the mark. He put his hands back in the sink and kept scrubbing, starting to cry. “Luka what…” His mom started, initially alarmed and then… and then she came over to hug him.

“Mom what do I do?” He cried. “It’s not coming out!”

“Who'd… no, it doesn’t matter. Luka stop doing that, it’s not going to come out. It doesn’t, lad.” His mom took his hands from the sink and started to dry them. “It stays no matter how hard ye try to get rid o’ it.” She spoke to him with the rare moment of solemnity. “Ye'e been Branded, and there’s nothin we can do about it.”

“I don’t wanna be Branded!” he wailed.

In a quiet, heated hiss Anarka whispered “This is why I told ye to never write names on yerself!” She looked at her son crying and sighed, shaking her head. Luka would realize later she’d been more disappointed in herself that she’d let him get Branded like he did. She thought she warned him, but how could she blame him for something no one ever thought would happen at 7 years old?

Who finds their soulmate at 7?

But it’d be a shackle for the rest of his life. Luka would grow up wondering if this M would ever be part of his life again, whether M would even want to be his partner. If he did find someone else to be his partner, they’d wonder if they’d ever be loved like whoever this M was. “Here,” Anarka sighed. “Ye can’t get rid of that Luka. But ye can cover it. Forget about it now, lad,” she said gently, taking off the wide leather cuff she had on that had covered her own Brand. “This 'ere’s yers now. I’ll get ye all freshened up. Granpa’s waitin for us,” Anarka said, pasting on a fake smile.

Luka hated that man. He was angry and hateful and mean, but Anarka had wanted to see her own Ma again, to have her Ma help guide Anarka in the raising of two children Anarka never originally planned to have. Granma was nice. But Granpa? No. Luka swore to himself he’d never be like Granpa.

His mom put the cuff around Luka’s Brand, looping twice to fit the small wrist better. “All covered up now. Is that fitting, Luka?” He nodded, staring at the “S” on his mom’s wrist.

“Was… that dad?” Luka asked, pointing at the Brand.

Anarka laughed. “It stands for Scotland,” she said lightly. “It stands for the Sea. It’s not yer da, no,” Anarka lied.

∴

It’d been a few weeks since Marinette met Adrien Agreste.

She’d been convinced Adrien was her True Love, and was continually disappointed every morning when his name disappeared off of her arm. “Tikki, it disappeared again,” Marinette sighed.

Tikki shrugged. “Maybe he’s not ready?” The Kwami had seen this before. The Brands were a form of magic that humans had that linked two souls together, signaling that they’d found their soul’s mate. A person would have to write another’s True Name on themselves somewhere, and it would disappear at sunrise if it wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes, though, it depended on if the other person was even capable of loving back. A Brand that had disappeared earlier might “take” later, when the soulmate was ready.

Tikki wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for Marinette that Adrien wasn’t capable of loving Marinette back yet. Maybe Adrien had a different name? The kwami wasn’t going to put forth the suggestion that it might not be Adrien at all. Marinette seemed convinced, and Tikki knew better than to doubt her bearers.

Marinette’s parents proudly wore the names they had on their arms, a very simple “Tom” on Sabine’s wrist and a beautifully formed script of “Sabine” scrawled across Tom’s massive forearm. Of course it simply encouraged Marinette into writing several names on her own arms throughout the years, even if most people found writing names on themselves taboo.

Recently, though, it’d just been Adrien’s.

None of the attempts ever stuck.

“It’ll happen one day!” Tikki said cheerfully. “I believe that you’ll find your soulmate one day. But right now you should get ready for school!”

∴

It’d been a few months after Juleka showed him that the picture curse was broken that he met the girl that’d been able to break it.

“I’m Ma-ma-ma-Marinette!”

He’d laughed a little and it hurt her feelings. Good job, Luka, that was a great first impression. Luckily he was able to apologize and smooth it over.

It tickled him, just a little bit, that he’d met another “M” in his life that he actually ended up liking. He ended up liking her a whole lot, which… ultimately kinda sucked because she’d been interested in someone else. Well, that was alright. He’d been used to the idea that he’d never find “the one” since he technically already had and lost them so many years ago.

But this one? This “M”? She was pretty cool and he found himself more interested than he’d ever been in anyone before.

There’d been one other “M” in his life a couple of years ago before his mom decided to move them all back to France, and Paris in particular. Her name had been Meryl and she was a pretty awesome girl, but she’d been several years older and already in University. She’d still given Luka some attention though, apparently finding it cute that she had a boy doting on her like he did. She was nice and she said he’d look good with some blue in his hair, and it’d been the last thing she said to him before she found herself her own soulmate. It hadn’t been Luka, of course.

He’d gotten into a fight with Granpa over his hair after Luka had dyed it. Juleka joined him by dying her hair purple. Anarka had finally had enough of her and her kids being put down and said she was going to go back “home”. It’d been a hard conversation with Granpa, but after Granma had passed Anarka and her kids had little reason to stick around in their Scottish family house. Anarka’s little wildlings were less little, and Juleka and Luka were both in their tweens to teens, largely old enough to handle themselves now.

Anarka had found some nearly-derelict fishing barge and spent a few weeks with her kids fixing up the ship, making it their new house, and they left Scotland as soon as they could. She sailed the newly christened Liberty back into Parisian waters, claiming the Seine as her new home. She gave a little wink to Luka, a nod to the new “S” in Anarka’s life that her Brand now represented.

It’d been good to see his mom coming back into her old self, the wild, chaotic, free spirit that she’d always been. He was no longer embarrassed of her like he’d been so many years ago. And he had to be honest to himself, the boat wasn’t the first choice he’d make in having a place to come home to, but something about Paris just felt right.

Juleka had been feeling better too. The younger Couffaines had been under their Granpa’s oppressive shadow for too long. And now they were slowly discovering more of themselves over time.

Rose was one of the first friends Juleka had made after coming back to Paris a few years ago, and they were “best friends” since. Today, Juleka showed him a neatly written “Rose” in a flourishing script on the back of her right hand. Juleka apparently hadn’t minded getting the Brand at all. “Marinette did this too,” Juleka smiled. “She’s been drawing names for people who ask. It’s so cool,” Juleka mumbled.

“She’s amazing,” Luka said out loud. Jules gave him a look and even he couldn’t figure out what it meant. “What?”

“She’s got eyes on Adrien, you know.”

“I’ve heard your schemes, I know.”

“I’m on team Adrienette.”

“Alright.”

“She deserves to be happy.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’d be weird if you two dated, anyway.”

“But we’re not dating. She doesn’t seem to notice me.”

Jules frowned at that and grumbled something that sounded to Luka like “she notices and it’s weird.”

He thought to himself, Not where it matters.

∴

It’d been a year since Adrien lost his mother, and Marinette finally said the words “I love you” to him.

Yes, it was a video recording and yes, Felix had apparently gone through and deleted it before Adrien ever got to see it, but she’d done it! She’d done the thing! She could do it again! It had to be easier the second time, right? The second… time.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. It’d been nearly a full year of her attempting Adrien’s name on her arm, and nothing changed. She’d stayed up and watched it fade out when the sunlight hit it during a few fitful mornings. She wrote his name so often it stopped looking like a word and more like a familiar pattern. Just shapes and no meaning.

Marinette had tried out a few different names over the year as well, just so she’d be certain… in a slightly unsettling way. She kept it discreet, writing on her ankle or in another place easy to cover up in case it was… taking. She’d written “Nathaniel”, once. It disappeared. She’d written “Chat Noir” and nearly sighed in relief (and maybe deep down in slight surprise) when it disappeared. Not that it was his real name anyway.

She’d secretly tried “Nino” once, even though he and Alya had gotten together. It hadn’t stuck. Nino and Alya hadn’t asked for Marinette to write each other’s names down, and maybe… maybe that was actually healthy? Like they didn’t need any external validation in order to really enjoy time spent with each other.

There might have been a lesson in that.

She tried “Kim” and “Wayhem” and “Theo”, even though the last one kinda creeped her out a bit. She tried “Kagami.” Nothing stuck.

There was still one name she hadn’t tried but… but she’d been absolutely terrified of it. Luka had more or less admitted to the world at large that he loved her after he’d gotten akumatized. There’d been genuine affection that was unfiltered, unbiased, uninfluenced by whatever the magic was that made names stay on people. He didn’t seem to mind that she was so, so into Adrien. Even if she wasn’t his soulmate, he’d love her.

S-So she’d be able to do that for Adrien! Yes, that made sense. Yes, that soulmate stuff was all kid fantasy anyway. Even if it was demonstratively real.

But if Adrien found his soulmate and it wasn’t Marinette… what was she supposed to do? Just step out of the way?

∴

It’d been a decade since Marinette and Luka first met except neither remembered that first time when they were young children, even if they’d been in the same place: the park nearby the bakery.

He’d held onto her as she broke down crying about the heartbreak and how tired she was. Luka told her he’d listen and be there and hadn’t lied about any of it. It was why she chose to sit next to him after letting her infatuation go and stepping out of the way for Kagami, watching Adrien and Kagami have their Sweetheart’s ice cream together like it was always meant to be Adrien and Kagami instead of Adrien and Marinette.

Marinette chose to sit next to Luka instead of going home.

She went to bed that night deciding that the whole names and soulmates and True Love thing was just a big huge distraction from what she really needed to focus on, which was getting through school, defeating Hawkmoth, and getting her name out there as an up and coming Fashion Designer!

It lasted all of 3 days until she finally gave into her curiosity and wrote an L in the crook of her left arm before going to bed. She really had meant to write out the rest of his name, but then her phone buzzed and there’d been an akuma alert. She sighed and rolled into action.

Her Lucky Charm gave her a guitar pick. That was a little too on-the-nose, Tikki? Ladybug zipped over to the Liberty, somehow not surprised that Luka was still up and leaning against the Liberty to overlook the Seine, looking cool and thoughtful. Actually, scratch that. He looked a little haggard and worried, and he’d been expecting to see Ladybug. Well, at least it meant she didn’t have to go in and wake him up.

“… you must return the Miraculous after…” Ladybug trailed off, noticing as Luka reached out to take the bracelet that he hadn’t been wearing any of the normal… accessories he chose to wear most of the time, most notably the leather cuff he usually had on. Something bothered her and she caught his hand before he touched the bracelet. She turned his right hand over and looked at the pen mark on his wrist. “Is that an M or an E?”

Luka pulled back his hand immediately, embarrassed. “An… M,” he said reluctantly.

Then Ladybug remembered it’d been incredibly rude of her to ask. “Oh, I’m so sorry I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It's… been 10 years since I got that, I don’t even remember much about it,” he shrugged.

Ladybug smiled, biting back a sudden urge to scream, and offered Luka the snake Miraculous again. “If you agree… I’d like your help, Luka.”

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Viperion were able to save the night and have everyone able to go to bed on time. She picked the Miraculous back up from Viperion, who seemed to be confused the akuma victim wasn’t who he’d expected it to be. “Anything wrong, Luka?”

“No… no, I’m glad I was able to help. I’m okay,” he said, clearly still a bit frazzled. Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows at him and he eventually sighed. “I guess I’m worried about a… friend. She’d been going through a lot so I’d been… I’d been waiting to see if she’d either call me or… or God, I don’t know,” he laughed, a little bit in disbelief. “I almost thought she’d been akumatized tonight. I’m so glad it wasn’t her. But it kinda makes me feel like crap for even thinking that.”

“It’s kind to be worried about your friend. W-Which friend by the way?” Ladybug asked. “I could pay her a visit if you’d like?”

“I don’t know if she’d appreciate that, actually,” he sighed. “She can kill me later if she wants, but yeah it’d be great if you’d check up on her. It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Instead of being worried that Luka was worried over her, she asked “Is she your M?” Ladybug got blindsided by her own question, but she only felt the impact and implication after she asked it. “Oh no, no, I’m so sorry I’ve been so rude.”

He blew out a breath. “I wish,” he mumbled. “I don’t know,” he said, his tiredness making him slightly more obvious about being miserable. “I guess I could know for sure by writing out her name.” That was said like he had been convinced it’d disappear…

“I’m pretty good at writing out names. If you want I could write… the rest of her name out on your arm?” Ladybug offered impulsively.

“… Sure,” he agreed. He watched her as she grabbed a nearby marker and wrote out Marinette on his arm. “Wow, that… looks pretty dead on to her signature.”

“Pfft,” Ladybug laughed. “That’d be the worst identity reveal ever. Marinette’s signed a few things for me too, I’ll have you know.”

“You might have a future in crime with your forging skills if you ever decide to stop being a hero,” Luka chuckled.

“I’ll stick to saving Paris, don’t worry,” Ladybug giggled. “You do have to write over it yourself if you want it to stay. I mean… if she is… you know…”

Luka nodded. “I know. Probably a long shot. Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll check up on her. Thank you for caring, Luka,” Ladybug smiled. “And you know, I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” she said quietly, biting her lip while tapping his arm. “I’ll be off. Have a good night, 'Bug out!”

Ladybug landed in her bed and detransformed. Tikki floated back to her little nesting spot while the kwami watched Marinette pull out her phone.

hey luka just got a visit from LB! thanks for thinking of me

Marinette looked down into the crook of her arm, grabbing a marker and filling out the rest of Luka’s name. She’d recognized that M on his arm.

Had it really been 10 years when she first met him? It was kind of funny that she didn’t remember until now. He hadn’t given his name back then but she remembered the disappointment the next day when her new friend didn’t show.

Had it really been a whole year of writing… the wrong name on herself?

It’d been months since Luka told her she’d been the melody in his head. Months.

And she had spent a week in heartbreak over the wrong boy.

It’d just been a few days since she decided she was going to let Adrien go. And she found her soulmate after that? How lucky was she? Marinette looked up at the sleeping Tikki and squinted suspiciously. Maybe she was Lucky™, except that she had apparently met Luka when she was 5.

Marinette stared at her phone, watching the minutes go by. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

The sun rose after an agonizingly boring time of rolling back and forth in her bed, too excited to go to sleep but too tired to do anything productive. She kept checking the name on her arm and it’d still been there all throughout the night, but now at first light… she was… scared. She closed her eyes and covered her head with her pillow, half dreading what she’d see if she looked down at her left arm where she wrote his name.

“It’ll be there,” she said to herself, feeling more certain of that than anything. The warmth of sunlight hit her left arm. She lifted the pillow off of her face but kept her eyes closed. Slowly she opened one eye.

His name was still there. “It’s you,” she whispered, feeling the tears fall from her eyes.

She launched herself out of bed, turning into a little hurricane of activity. She threw her jacket on and ran downstairs, kissing her Maman and Papa on the cheek and telling them she’d be out for a while. They’d been too surprised to see her up at the crack of dawn to complain much, just insisting that she take her phone with her and that she wear proper shoes.

She ran down to the subway entrance and guessed the nearest station where Liberty would be moored, taking the subway train there. She emerged from an entrance about 10 minutes later, ignoring the confused looks the other commuters shot her since she’d been a mess of pigtails and pajamas. She ran toward the Liberty, climbed up and leapt over the railing onto the ship when she saw that the gangplank wasn’t extended.

“Marinette!” she heard Luka’s alarmed shout. She knew he’d be up. She knew it! He ran over to her. “What the heck–” He’d been wearing a different hoodie, a long sleeved one that covered up both his arms. She frowned at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“S-So are you! And you’re-you’re here? What’s wrong?” His voice had dropped from a high pitched panic to his deeper, concerned tone in the span of two words.

She took off her jacket and extended her left arm. She saw him flush but start pulling up his hoodie from the hem, taking it off and tossing it aside. He turned his right palm up to show her the name written across his forearm.

Their names had stayed. He breathed out. “Did Ladyb–” She cut him off, her hands on either side of his face to pull him down, planting a kiss on his lips. They pulled back a second after, looking at one another in surprise.

“It’s you,” she said, resting her forehead against his shoulder. To be honest she’d been embarrassed that she’d just kissed him in the disheveled state she was in, having left to see him as soon as she got out of bed, but she felt giddy and… right.

He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tight. “And… it’s you.”