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cherienymphe · 4 months

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Escapism

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: Your brother always stayed up with you whenever you couldn’t sleep and nothing has changed now that his best friend is the reason for your late nights.

warnings: Dub-Con, stepcest, cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, side of Rafe x reader, lots of playing in Rafe's face, kook!reader, non canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

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You were a shitty girlfriend.

Perhaps, in some ways, you were being too harsh on yourself because it wasn’t like Rafe would ever win boyfriend of the year. The blond came with a plethora of issues that could only be fixed with therapy—something you probably wouldn’t even be able to pay him to do—and he chose to handle every single one with one horrible coping mechanism after the next. When it was all said and done though, you really only had yourself to blame.

It wasn’t like you were a stranger to the man before you started dating him.

You knew Rafe well—you’d grown up with him—so was it really his fault that you chose to ignore every single thing you knew about him in the hopes that he would mature and change? Was it his fault that you forgave him time and time again with the hopes that he could still change? Was he the asshole for being him or were you the asshole for going into this with the expectation he’d be something he wasn’t?

“Come on,” Topper would say to you in the dead of night. “You and I both know what he’s like—what he’s always been like.”

It was usually after he’d listen to you cry over Rafe and whatever girl he’d kissed or whatever awful thing he’d said to you, pupils blown and alcohol on his breath. He’d pull you to sit back, hands rubbing over your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It was always well into the night when you both should’ve been asleep, but per your routine as of late, you’d be waiting up for Rafe to call or text or walk through the door.

Anything to let you know he wasn’t passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere.

“Rafe can take care of himself just fine.”

Or some variation of that would reach your ears, and you’d press your hands to your face in exhaustion. You’d never miss the bitterness—borderline malice—in Topper’s voice as he said something like that. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, but more so your relationship with the other blond as a whole and his frustration with it. Topper never wanted you to date Rafe, and you knew he took no pleasure in watching Rafe prove him right.

Rafe may have been his best friend…

…but you were ten and Topper was twelve when his mother married your father. He’d been protective of you since day one, having been an only child before that, and you knew that he hated having to let you make your own choices and mistakes with the guy you’d both once called a friend. If you and Rafe came out of this relationship intact, you doubted you’d ever call him ‘friend’ again.

He’d hurt you too much for that.

You weren’t a bad girlfriend for thinking such thoughts. Nor were you a bad girlfriend for trying to break up with him on several occasions, something Rafe would always talk you out of with promises of remorse and change. You didn’t even think you were a bad girlfriend for venting about your frustration and hurt to his best friend—your stepbrother.

You were a shitty girlfriend for allowing something to continue that should’ve ended years ago.

Fed up with talking about Rafe and how badly he’d hurt your feelings earlier in the day, Topper had pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up with a kiss. A kiss that you returned, shoulders sagging and a weight lifting off of your chest as his arms circled around your waist. Rafe had called you a nag hours before, subsequently telling you he wouldn’t be staying over before hanging up without another word.

It had hurt you, but you were sure Topper was just relieved to have you all to himself.

Or at the very least, wouldn’t be tempted to fuck you anyway—Rafe under the same roof be damned.

You both were quiet in the dark living room—your parents asleep upstairs—and the longer you kissed him, the more you just wanted to forget about Rafe. The t-shirt you wore was bunching up under the blonde’s hands, and you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your neck. You could feel how much he wanted you, and any other night you would’ve loved to drag this out, but much like Topper…

You just wanted to feel him inside of you.

You never wore any underwear to bed, both for convenience and just because. It was something Topper had come to appreciate, and when you helped him pull his shorts down, cock springing free, you couldn’t slide down the couch fast enough. He hooked one hand under your thigh, helping you and dragging you closer, the other squeezing his cock with long strokes.

He rubbed the tip of himself against you a few times, coating the head in your essence, unsurprised at how wet and ready for him you already were. The feel made you bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your hips in an attempt to get him to sink into you even if just a little. You didn’t miss the soft chuckle that rang through the air.

“I’m sorry,” he huskily told you, pushing into you with one slow thrust. “Is that better?”

You hated his mocking tone, but not as much as you loved the feel of him stretching you out. You clawed at him, pulling him closer, sighing into his mouth when he finally kissed you again. The movements of his hips were slow, too afraid to do too much and make too much noise. The pace was enough to make your head spin and was definitely enough to make you squirm beneath him. When you started lifting your hips to meet him halfway, he groaned into the kiss.

Rafe was the furthest thing from your mind.

Sliding your hands up Topper’s frame, you threaded your fingers through his hair, nails lightly dragging along his scalp. By the way he shuddered against you, you knew that he liked that. Every snap of his hips into yours had you swallowing down every noise that threatened to escape. His cock stroked your walls in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

Shifting, you felt his hand slide down to rest on the inside of your thigh, pushing it and spreading it until your leg hung off of the couch. At that, you did gasp, a choaked sound escaping your lips before you snapped them shut. His free hand was beside your head now, forearm resting on the couch cushion. You both were quiet, but your soft labored breathing could still be heard if you listened hard enough.

When you softly moaned his name, he shushed you.

“I want…” you fought to catch your breath enough to speak. “I want you to come inside of me.”

You felt another shiver travel up his spine, head falling into the crook of your neck at that. You knew he wasn’t close, but you felt like making that known. It wasn’t something you both made a habit of, but you loved the feel of Topper spilling into you, cock twitching as he coated your walls in his release. When you pushed against his hand, he got the hint, and you circled his waist with your legs, ankles hooking at the small of his back.

Topper took his time fucking you.

He often did, feeling no need to rush or no fear that you’d get caught. You didn’t know if he was just that confident in how quickly you could pull yourselves together or that it simply wouldn’t happen. Some part of you wondered if maybe he just didn’t care. You knew that couldn’t be true for several reasons, the most pressing being your boyfriend.

It was funny.

Rafe had probably cheated on you more times than you actually knew of, but the minute some other guy looked at you for even just a second too long, he was gearing up for a fight. You didn’t know if he was performative or just that skilled at compartmentalization, but you hated it. What good did it do for him to act so noble and possessive when way too many people knew how much he’d embarrassed you over the past six months?

You didn’t doubt that he’d try to kill Topper in some coked out rage if he ever knew.

Topper’s hand was cupping your breast under your shirt as he pressed kisses to your neck and jaw. He was whispering in your ear, telling you how good you felt and how wet you were, and how much he wanted to feel you coming around him. He knew what to say to send you over the edge, and at the first sound, he covered your mouth in another kiss to swallow your moans.

You squeezed him tight, walls clenching as he fucked you through your climax, cock plunging into your soaking cunt as he chased his own. His thrusts grew sloppy, and they weren’t as languid, and his blond strands kissed your forehead as they grew messy and awkward with sweat. Your legs had long fallen around him, and you pressed your hand against his lower back.

When he came, he buried his face into where your neck and shoulder met, groaning into the skin. You shuddered at the feel of him spilling into you, still clenching around him as remnants of your orgasm finally started to dissipate. His breathing was heavy against your skin before pulling back just enough to touch his forehead to yours.

You could only hear your efforts to catch your breath.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded, positive he could feel the action against his forehead. You fingered the top of his shorts, and you bit your lip. You didn’t say it back often—something you still had trouble accepting and admitting—but you told him enough so that he’d never doubt it.

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” you quietly asked him. “Rafe probably won’t come over until after noon…if he comes over, at all.”

You tried not to let your voice shrink at the thought, but Topper caught it anyway. Pulling out of you and sitting up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. Righting himself, he pulled you to your feet, his other hand pushing his hair away from his face.

“You know you never have to ask,” he told you.

His hands were comfortably on your waist as he followed behind you, guiding you upstairs.

“What…? You got a problem or something?”

You knew it was coming when you were the only one who wasn’t laughing, unamused as he recounted his tale of how he’d cornered Pope. You’d never known the other guy to get into any trouble or bother anyone, and while you knew there would never be anything you could do about whatever petty rivalry your brother and your boyfriend and their friends involved themselves in, Pope just seemed like low hanging fruit.

He wasn’t even the type to fight back.

“I just don’t find it funny,” was all you said, squinting under the harsh rays of the sun. “You know Pope’s not even like that. I might’ve laughed if it were JJ or…I don’t know…someone who would actually put up a fight.”

Rafe’s entire demeanor clouded over at that, and you were prepared for whatever was about to come out of his mouth when Topper spoke.

“Rafe,” the other blond warned. “Chill.”

He seemed to anticipate Rafe’s ire just as much as you did, and Rafe paused, glancing at his best friend before huffing. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with that cold blue gaze of his. The sun shone off of his dirty blond strands, the tresses curtained along his forehead, and you watched him bring his hand up to rest against his lips before finally settling on a better response than what you both knew you almost got.

“So, what are you trying to say?”

Choosing to end this fight before it even began, you sighed, looking away.

“I’m not saying anything, Rafe. You can do whatever you want,” you murmured. “You always do.”

He heard that loud and clear, and the laugh he let out wasn’t humorous in the slightest. You heard him roughly get up from his seat, chair scraping against the wooden floor. You watched him snatch his glass off the table, mumbling something about needing a refill but not before making a comment to Topper that was solely intended for you.

“Get your sister, Top,” your boyfriend drawled, making you cross your arms over your chest.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, and you avoided his gaze.

“Sometimes I swear you like fighting with him just as much as he does you.”

At that, you scoffed, looking at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t laugh because he beat up Pope Heyward…and that was apparently a problem,” you pointed out to which Topper merely shrugged, unable to disagree. “I apologize for not finding it funny.”

“Babe,” he softly said, reaching out and touching your arm. “He’s a Pogue, and you know how Rafe is.”

His excuse for Rafe’s behavior only made you roll your eyes, and you heard him sigh as you reached for your stuff. He said your name, trying to get you to sit back down, but you were only more determined to leave once you caught sight of Kelce walking up the steps to the restaurant too. Dealing with all three of them at once was enough to give you a coronary.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer Rafe as you passed him on his way back to the table, ignoring Kelce too when he said hey to you. You hated to take it out on him when he didn’t actually do anything this time, but you knew his mindset was just as bad as Rafe’s, and so you figured it was preemptively deserved. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe was going to talk shit about you the second you were out of sight.

It was one of those days where you really felt emboldened to finally break up with him for good. Rafe hadn’t been good to you nor right for you since the beginning, and you knew that if Topper was a lesser person, he would’ve said ‘I told you so’ a million times by now. You were grateful that he didn’t make you feel worse for being naïve enough to ever believe in Rafe Cameron.

Although, some part of you wondered if having you crawl into his bed night after night was satisfaction enough.

It was hours later when he was softly apologizing for both his and Rafe’s behavior, fingers digging into your waist as you pushed yourself down onto him. Rafe had long fallen asleep, his light snores easing your worry as you’d snuck out of your room. Topper was awake—as you’d hoped—and it was true that you’d only intended to talk. Rafe’s attitude hadn’t been much better when you finally reunited again, something you were sure Topper had overheard.

“You really want to talk about Rafe, right now?” he’d whispered, hand sliding along your thigh.

“Topper,” you’d quietly hissed in warning. “Not…tonight. He’s…”

You didn’t need to finish that sentence, feeling no need to as you gestured towards his door. The blond had fixed you with a look that made your stomach flip, a hint of a smirk dancing along his pink lips as he held your gaze.

“That’s never stopped us before.”

You’d swallowed at that, feeling unsure, but that was a feeling that had never stopped the other man before either. The first time he’d ever kissed you, you’d felt unsure, but Topper hadn’t cared, holding you to him and fingering you on the back deck while his mother threw some grand party downstairs. You still remembered the way you came around his fingers, an admission of insecurities somehow leading to your first ever sexual experience—and with your own stepbrother no less.

“Topper,” you’d quietly warned when he brushed his lips against yours. “Rafe…”

“Do…not…talk about him, right now,” he’d slowly said, fingers grazing along your folds just as slow.

Despite your hand against his shoulder, he’d laid you down, lips finding the skin just under your jaw.

“He’s the last thing I want to talk about, right now.”

…and he’d meant it, curving his fingers into you while pressing open mouthed kisses to your jaw and throat and collarbone. Any protest you had was swallowed down and quickly forgotten at the slick feeling between your legs, Topper’s fingers sinking into your cunt with ease. Your own twisted into the fabric of his shirt, hips lifted towards his hand, fighting to swallow down a whimper each time his thumb circled your clit.

“Fuck,” he’d cursed into your skin. “I love how wet you get for me.”

It wasn’t long after that that he was hurrying to get inside of you, shirts and shorts discarded as he pulled you on top of him. When you sank down onto him, he’d sighed, throwing his head back and lifting his hips. With your hands on his stomach, you’d lifted yourself until the tip of his cock just barely remained inside of you before sliding back down.

You gently bounced on top of him, hyper aware of who was just in the other room. You could tell that Topper wasn’t a huge fan, feeling that you had to pick one between being on top and being gentle, but it couldn’t be both. When his hands slid up your frame, they rested on the sides of your neck before pulling you down. Your eyes fell closed when you kissed him, and you gasped into his mouth when he lifted his hips, driving himself up into you.

You mentally cursed, realizing you’d been tricked.

With his hands quickly sliding down to snake around your waist, Topper wasted no time in lifting his hips to push his cock up into you. The force of his thrusts had you squeezing him in more ways than one, lips parted and eyes tight as he roughly fucked himself up into you. His bed shook under his movements, and you couldn’t stop yourself from whining into his mouth, the sound of him sinking into you reaching your ears.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he hummed, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

When his bed knocked into the wall, he halted his movements, using the moment to both catch his breath and listen. Your own heart stuttered, digging your nails into his chest because you’d literally told Topper so. Once Rafe was knocked out, it was usually pretty hard to wake him up, but it would be just your luck that this night of all nights he’d be a light sleeper.

You really didn’t want to imagine the chaos if he left your room in search of you only to find his best friend balls deep inside of you.

When no worrying sounds reached your ears, Topper took that as a sign to continue, knees bent as he thrust up into you again. You could tell he was close by the way his cock twitched inside of you, and something nagged in the back of your mind about that. When you attempted to pull yourself off of him, he held you tighter.

“Topper,” you gasped, a warning in your tone. “Don’t-.”

Your words were abruptly swallowed when he rolled you both, pinning you beneath him and jerking his hips into yours. The rough and fast pace had you momentarily forgetting your train of thought, weakly pushing against his stomach. You both knew why you didn’t want him to finish inside of you, but he didn’t seem to care about Rafe possibly sinking into you in the early hours of the morning with his best friend’s cum dried along your folds.

You yelped when you came, a roaring sound in your ears as you felt him do the same, filling you up with a grunt. His hips didn’t stop snapping against yours the entire time, fucking you through it and fucking his cum into you. He had you completely caged beneath him, and all you could do was quietly milk his cock, toes curling as you scratched at his back.

When clarity finally hit, the fog lifting, you roughly pushed him away. You didn’t miss his quiet chuckle, and you didn’t spare him a glance as you reached for your oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumbled, pulling it over your head and slapping his hand away when he reached down to slide his fingers between your sticky folds.

You didn’t spare Topper another glance before hurrying out of his room.

You kept your eyes on Rafe as he flew down the road, the loud music making his truck almost vibrate. He was ignoring you, preoccupied with his conversation with Kelce who was in the passenger seat. It was funny because the only one with a right to be mad was you, recalling the fight you’d had on the beach not even an hour ago.

“She was all over you, and you just stood there and let it happen,” you’d yelled at him, feeling humiliated for the umpteenth time.

“I barely remember what that girl even looks like,” was his reply, pupils blown. “It was nothing, baby.”

You had slapped his hand away when he reached for you, unmoved by the way his countenance darkened. The sounds of the party just down the beach only served to remind you how you felt when you walked up on him with his hand on some girl’s waist, her lips trailing kisses along his neck. You could tell she was drunk, and instead of pushing her away, Rafe just entertained it.

Your eyes had only met for half a second before you were turning away.

You didn’t even know why he chased you down the beach, and that was what you’d told him.

“You’re not sorry…you don’t feel bad, and you know what? You’ll probably do worse two weeks from now, so why are you even here?”

You’d shrugged at him, certain your confusion was evident on your face.

“Look, it was nothing,” he’d spat at you. “Once again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

That had actually made you laugh, tears kissing your eyes.

“If you caught me cozying up to any guy with half the effort that she was with you…you would lose your shit, and you know it,” you’d sneered, watching his jaw tick. “I would love to see the look on your face if I fucked someone else.”

He’d gotten in your face, his finger almost touching your eye.

“I was barely touching her-.”

“That wasn’t the case three months ago,” you threw in his face. “…and I can only imagine what I don’t know about.”

Rafe’s nostrils had flared, and for a split second, you swore you saw some shame pass through his blue gaze. It was gone just as quickly as it came though, anger replacing it instead.

“You wouldn’t dare, you wouldn’t fucking dare,” he bit out, invading your personal space. “I said I was sorry, and you said you forgave me, so don’t think you can use that as an excuse to go fuck some asshole who clearly doesn’t value his life.”

His words had only made you angrier, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your face even, recalling the feel of Topper’s cock inside of you just thirty minutes before Rafe came to pick you both up. You and your boyfriend had stared each other down for a few moments more before he spoke again.

“I’d love to see you do that,” he finally said, shrugging. “I would love to see you try when you can’t even stick to staying broken up with me.”

His words had the desired effect, and you’d felt your face fall.

“Now, you’re trying to convince me you’d ever have the nerve to cheat on me?” he’d wondered, fingers grazing his own chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

He’d left you with a scoff, and you hadn’t been able to stop your tears from spilling over. All you’d ever tried to do was routinely look for and believe in the best in Rafe, and you couldn’t believe that he threw that in your face like some insult. Maybe it was an insult though…because how many times were you going to let him show you exactly who he was? How many times were you going to let him play in your face?

The day after you’d confronted him about sleeping with some girl—only privy to the information because of none other than Topper—you’d cried yourself to sleep. It was always little things before that, but that incident was what broke you, allowing Topper to slip into your room and wrap his arms around you. It was reminiscent of a time where he used to sneak into your room almost every night, your parents none the wiser to what went on underneath their roof. You’d been eighteen then, Topper twenty, and you both mutually agreed to putting a stop to it.

However, that night, his mind had clearly gone to the same place yours had.

When he kissed you, you’d pulled him closer, and two years after you ended your forbidden dalliance, you resumed it again. For a few hours, you’d forgotten all about Rafe and what he did and just basked in the feel of Topper pushing his cock into you, embarrassingly turned on because of how much you’d missed him. You hadn’t paid any mind to the countless phone calls and texts that were blowing up your phone, no one else but Rafe and his vain attempts to fix what he did.

The day you forgave him, you knew you were making a huge mistake.

Rafe throwing the grace you’d shown him in your face had you stomping to his truck. You’d ignored the feel of eyes on you, knowing it wasn’t Rafe, opting to slide in the backseat without acknowledging him. Kelce—ever the standup guy—just pretended not to notice the tension between you and his friend as he slid into the passenger seat. The moment Rafe’s truck was on the road—music blaring through the vehicle—you’d grabbed Topper’s hand.

He didn’t protest at all when you dragged it across your thigh, pushing his fingers between your legs.

…and that was how you found yourself watching Rafe, keeping your eyes on him not because you actually wanted to, but because you didn’t need him looking over his shoulder. Even if he did, it was dark, but still, you weren’t exactly emotionless as Topper slid his fingers in and out of you. Your lips were parted, and your chest was heaving, and even though all that could really be heard was whatever rap song Rafe put on, you were still pulling your lip between your teeth.

You reached out to grip the door handle when Topper added another finger, his hand soaked in you, and you reached down to place your own hand on top of his. You spread your legs a little more, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your hips a bit. You were thankful for the music, certain that if the truck were quieter, they’d be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers pushing between your folds.

He pulled them in and out of you for the duration of the ride, just slowly stroking you and teasing you. Every time you started to tighten around his fingers, he’d stop, just letting them sit there long enough for you to come down from a high that quite never happened. Like clockwork, he’d start moving his fingers again, and he only fully pulled them out of you—underwear snapping back into place—when Rafe pulled into his driveway.

He'd sucked them clean by the time Rafe and Kelce opened their doors, and when your boyfriend saw that neither of you were moving, he paused. You crossed your arms over your chest when he glanced at you, throwing him a frown.

“I need to talk to Y/N for a minute,” Topper told him, and Rafe only scoffed.

“Please do,” he mockingly said, tone full of arrogance as he wrongly assumed what the conversation would be about. “…because I didn’t do shit, and I’m tired of your sister blowing things out of proportion.”

That last part was aimed at you, and you only coolly met your boyfriend’s gaze before he slammed the door shut.

“He’s such an asshole,” you mumbled, staring at his back as he walked away. “I’m breaking up with him. For good this time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Topper’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, we both know how much you’ll hate having me all to yourself again.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before you turned towards him, reaching to slip your hand down his pants the moment Rafe was inside of his house. Wrapping your fingers around Topper’s cock, you slowly stroked him, uncaring as to how risky that was. You were just angrier than you ever were at the realization that Rafe didn’t appreciate how gracious you’d been, and how many other girls would’ve dumped him months ago for everything he’d pulled. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe respected you less for it.

That realization didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would…because you’d long stopped respecting him in return.

You moved to settle in Topper’s lap, facing away from him as he lifted his hips enough to only just pull his pants down. One hand was pulling at your panties, yanking them aside just in time for you to sink down onto his cock. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he filled you up, throbbing inside of your heat. It was almost too easy, courtesy of his fingers and how wet he’d made you.

You lifted yourself slightly, moving over him and hanging onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while Topper lifted his hips too. His grunts and labored pants were a little loud, but that was only because you were alone. Rafe nor Kelce was going to hear anything from all the way out here in a closed vehicle. You clung to the seat harder as you thought about Rafe’s haughty tone and that challenging look in his blue eyes, so certain that you’d never do to him what he did to you.

So certain that you’d never have the guts.

Speaking of, it felt like you could feel Topper deep in your stomach as you rode him. His hands were tight on your waist as he bounced you on top of him, cheeks grazing his thighs with every movement. One of those hands slid around you, reaching under your dress and resting on you, fingers rubbing over your cunt.

“You’re doing so good, babe,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet truck. “Just like that.”

You knew that this couldn’t take long—and Topper knew it too—and feeling you come around him always sent him over the edge, so your eyes rolled when he started circling and dragging his fingers across your clit. He lightly pinched it, making you jerk, and the fact that you were fucking him in Rafe’s own backseat had you coming hard.

The broken moans that tumbled out of your mouth should have embarrassed you, but you were too concerned with sliding yourself up and down his cock, squeezing him tight and making him come too. Topper wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you back against him as you came together. Knowing that you’d stayed out here long enough, he was gently pushing you off of him the second he started to soften.

You could feel him dripping out of you, and you hurried to put your underwear back in place.

“Did you talk some sense into her?” was the first thing Rafe greeted you with the moment you both made it back inside.

You ignored him, hearing the tone of Topper’s voice as he said Rafe’s name. You knew that it would just be another useless talk of him almost begging Rafe to do better. The older blond never listened to his friend though, and you knew it didn’t twist Topper up too much, always happy to make you feel better when your boyfriend fucked up.

He took advantage of it every time.

Like now, for example.

Your hands clung to the railing of the back porch, head bowed as Topper drove into you from behind. Rafe was asleep in his own room—Kelce asleep in a guest room—and you couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again, sneaking into his designated guest room and begging him to fuck you. He was never one to protest, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you against him while murmuring something along the lines of ‘not in here’.

There were too many people in the Cameron household for him to touch you on the same floor as everyone else.

You kept pushing yourself to your tippy toes, thighs squeezing together with every slow stroke of his cock. Rafe’s t-shirt was pushed up your back, and the light slap of skin against skin reached your ears as well as the wet sound every time he slid between your folds. When he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm curled around your waist.

“You love this,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You love fucking me right under his nose…especially when he really pisses you off.”

If you’d tried to deny it, the way you tightened around him would’ve exposed the truth anyway. You did. Rafe underestimated you, and you loved proving him wrong, especially with his best friend of all people. You moaned, pushing back against him at that. Topper only chuckled, twisting a hand at your roots and pushing you back down over the railing again.

After coming around him twice, the insides of your thighs were embarrassingly sticky, and when Topper eventually stilled against you, pumping you full of his cum, that only made your predicament worse. When he pulled out of you, you reached down to wipe away some of the mess, fighting to catch your breath and reminding yourself that you’d have to make a stop to the bathroom before rejoining Rafe.

Topper was silent the entire ride home, and unlike with Rafe, you had no one but yourself to blame in this situation. Whenever you happened to glance over, you’d catch sight of his clenched jaw, cold blue eyes—so much like Rafe’s—focused on the road. His knuckles were white from the strain of his skin pulled taut over them, a death grip on the wheel of his jeep.

You didn’t speak because there wasn’t much you could say.

So fed up with Rafe’s blatant disrespect—and the pitying looks the odd girl threw you at the party as he danced with some stranger—you hadn’t thought of who else you’d be hurting when you grabbed the nearest guy and pressed your lips to his. You were so far gone with the alcohol, and the satisfaction you’d felt only drove you to close your eyes at the feel of his lips moving against yours.

It had also caused you to momentarily forget about your boyfriend, a misstep that was quickly remedied when you found yourself covered in alcohol.

Several of his friends—Kelce included—had been struggling to hold Rafe back as he tried to make his way to you. His angry shouts could be heard over the music, and you suspected that the bloodthirsty glint in his blue eyes was what drove your poor unsuspecting victim to slip away. Watching him get further out of reach only drove Rafe crazy…until his angry gaze landed on you, as if just remembering your presence.

He was screaming at you, calling you every name in the book, and you’d taken a step back as his friends struggled to keep him from getting to you. Only one stood off to the side, and when you remembered Topper’s presence, you hadn’t been able to keep the sheepish look off of your face. Adopting the older brother role, he’d quickly stomped towards you, yanking your arm as he pulled you along and away from your enraged boyfriend.

“I think its time you call it a night,” he’d evenly said.

That was the last thing he’d said to you, holding you as you stumbled to his car.

When his phone rang again, cutting through the silence in the vehicle, he finally answered it.

“Rafe, she’s drunk,” Topper told him the minute he picked it up. “…and you can’t act like you didn’t have this coming a little.”

You shifted in your seat, thinking to yourself that you’d gotten back at Rafe many times over. You didn’t hear what your boyfriend—possibly ex-boyfriend—said on the other line, but it was loud, and you could pick up on his tone. Topper chuckled to himself, and if you hadn’t been looking at his face, you might’ve thought it was genuine. His frustration with both Rafe and you—mostly you at the moment—was all over his face.

“There’s a whole list of shit you’ve done while drunk or high. You can talk to her tomorrow,” he told his best friend, meeting your gaze. “I’m handling it, so if you come over, I’m telling you now I’m not answering the door.”

You looked out the window at that, swallowing at the venom in both his voice and his gaze.

Your parents weren’t home, out of town for the weekend, and you were never more grateful, certain you’d never been this drunk in your life. Topper was still ignoring you as he helped you inside, and when you stumbled away from him, leaning against the table by the entrance, you gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Before you could do it, he was dropping to his knees, angrily taking off your shoes. You flinched at the way he threw them across the room, slowly rising and staring you down. The house was quiet—too quiet for comfort—and you licked your lips.

“Topper-.”

“It’s already bad enough seeing you kiss him and be with him and fuck him,” he spat at you, pointing outside. “Even worse when he treats you like shit, and you just won’t leave.”

You frowned at him, tears kissing your eyes.

“I’m…sorry for just hoping he’ll do better…”

“He won’t!”

Topper’s voice bounced off of the walls, and you shrunk away from him as he got in your face.

“How many times does he have to show you that? Why do you still expect better from him, so much so to the point where you’re kissing random guys, now?” he wondered, rearing back away from you with a frown. “Yeah, you wanted to make Rafe angry, but we both know the truth.”

You looked away, pressing your lips together when Topper stepped closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he exhaled through his nose, the atmosphere tense.

“Rafe’s mad because you dared to play his own game,” he slowly whispered. “I love you, and we both know it’s me you’re really with, not him, and I’m fucking pissed.”

You swallowed with one look into his eyes, finally finding the strength to face him, and your heart skipped a beat at what you saw there.

Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, fingers digging into your arms. The sequence of events happened too fast for your drunk brain to catch up with, only gasping when he reached down to press his hand into the small of your back, yanking you closer. If it wasn’t for him holding you, you would’ve tripped over your own feet as he forced you into the living room.

Topper’s teeth nipped at your throat while he pulled at your dress, something Rafe had bought.

“I fucking hate this dress,” he quietly confessed as if reading your mind.

The sound of tearing fabric reached your ears as he forced you to bend back, his arm around you keeping you from collapsing. He kept you against him as he laid you down on the floor, in a hurry to get you at least half naked. His other hand reached behind his head to yank off his shirt, and you only had the sense to hold onto his arms while he kissed along your chest. When his pants were pushed down just enough, he pushed into you with a grunt.

You scratched at his skin at the rough entry, but it took no time for each thrust to become as smooth as they always were whenever he got his hands on you. One of your hands clawed at the rug, and you moaned—loud—when he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. You suspected that Top had done a line or two tonight, gasping at his uncharacteristically tight grip.

He was fucking you so good that you almost missed the sound of a vehicle in the yard. When you did, your eyes flew open, and you attempted to look around towards the window. You guys were too close to the couch to see over it, and when you whined, pushing against him, Topper only grabbed your hands and pinned them down beside your head.

“Topper, I think…”

You couldn’t get it out, groaning as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck him,” he breathed, pounding into you.

The harsh knocks on the door didn’t faze him, and Topper only let one of your hands go to reach down and reach under your thigh. He rested that leg over his shoulder, pushing it towards you as his nose brushed yours, lips parted as he thrust into you. You were dripping around him, teeth sinking into your lip as Rafe knocked on the door again, trying the locked handle. Somewhere, you could hear your phone vibrating…and then Topper’s after a while.

The man on top of you didn’t care, stretching you out, pushing his cock into your tight hole.

“Break up with him, or don’t,” he whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your nose. “…but what you pulled tonight is not happening again.”

You drunkenly nodded at him, mewling as he slowed down his thrusts, the sucking sound of his cock plunging into you reaching your ears. You heard your phone vibrate again.

“You know where to find me when he pisses you off.”

#topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton smut #topper thornton fanfiction #obx #outer banks #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron

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xcherryerim · 2 months

Text

What You Deserve

Vanessa Shelly x gn!reader

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | 18+ ONLY

Warning: this so short that it’s literally oral sex (to vanessa) , reader is into Vanessa AND Mike. More plot than porn tbh sorryyyy

So, I had this idea FOR A WHILE before i even started writing and i was waiting for someone to ask me to write for vanessa but no one did ☹️ so I wrote it anyways. It’s not my best writing that is because I wrote it in one go to get it out of the way bc i’m overwhelmed with other ideas and requests for jhutch characters. I might re write this in the future we’ll see.

Summary: Engaged in a situationship with Mike, you can’t help but let your insecurity drive you the conclusion that Mike and Vanessa are into each other, that’s until Vanessa proves you wrong.

“Let’s go!” You excitedly cheer as you win the bowling game, only to realize that Mike, your not-so-boyfriend, was too caught up staring at Vanessa to notice that he even lost.

You tell yourself that you’re not allowed to be jealous, since Mike is technically not your boyfriend. Despite the lack of official labels, you and Mike act as if you’re a couple without one. However, there’s no denying that something is going on between Mike and Vanessa, and you don’t particularly like it.

“Oh, good job!” Vanessa said to you, with a cheerful smile on her face that she would manage to fake, just to hide the bitter truth. She was likely looking you up and down, trying to find an advantage to exploit, so she could feel superior to you.

You could instantly tell that her attitude wasn't genuine, so all you could manage was a quick "thanks."

“Actually…” Vanessa said, turning towards Mike, the person she was more interested in, “Why don’t you get a reward for the winner?”

“Huh, yeah, alright,” Mike responded, before walking off and leaving you alone with Vanessa.

“So,” Vanessa said, as she leaned in close to you while still staying just out of reach. “You and Mike are together or something?”

You tried to stay composed and avoid stuttering, even though you knew that she could likely see right through your lie. “I—we—“

“Friends with benefits?” Vanessa asked with a mocking tone, daring you to say otherwise, as she smirked at you.

“You’re better than some situationship,” Vanessa stated, this time with a surprisingly genuine tone. It seemed to leave you speechless for a moment before you struggled to conjure up a response.

So?” you asked, “We’re grown adults. I don’t need your permission to be with whoever I want.”

“Come on,” Vanessa said as she moved forward, pressing her body against yours, taking your breath away. “You need someone mature, someone that takes you seriously.” she continued, smirking at you, obviously knowing how the conversation was making you feel.

“You need someone to please you, to make you happy. I doubt you’re getting any of that.” Vanessa finished, clearly playing into your insecurities, but in a strangely flirty way.

As she stood back from you, looking directly into your eyes, her words weighed heavily upon you. Venessa’s words were both provocative and challenging, yet they aroused an unexpected curiosity inside you. Your heart raced as you considered her proposition, unsure how to respond. She looked pleased with her effect on you, sensing that she had gotten under your skin.

“Maybe I don’t need anyone,” you retorted, trying to maintain control over your emotions and hide your vulnerability. But even as you spoke, you couldn't help feeling intrigued by the idea she presented. Could there be more to you both than just this casual interaction? Was she genuinely interested, or was she simply toying with you?

Vanessa smiled, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Well," she drawled, "I think we both know that's not entirely true." She took a step closer, her scent enveloping you, and whispered, "But you can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night." With that, she turned around and sashayed away, leaving you standing there in confusion and desire.

“I know you’re doing this because you want Mike for yourself!”

Vanessa stopped mid-step, turning around slowly, her hips swaying seductively. She raised an eyebrow at you, tilting her head slightly. "Oh really?" she asked playfully. "And what makes you so sure about that?"

“Oh please! Do you think I don’t notice how Mike gets around you? I know you guys had something in the past!”

"Isn't it fascinating how people jump to conclusions?" Vanessa retorted, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Just because Mike likes me doesn't mean I like him back.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a challenge evident in her gaze.

"You're projecting your insecurities onto me," she added, taking another step near you. "Admit it, you're jealous. You're afraid I'll take what's 'yours.' But, is Mike truly what you want?”

Pausing for a moment, she stared intently into your eyes, her gaze intense and unwavering. "Mike may be your safety net, but what happens when you want something more?"

“So? Why do you care anyway?” You responded in anger to her treatment.

“You still don’t get it huh?” Vanessa let out a soft chuckle, her laughter ringing in the air like a bell tolling a warning. Her eyes narrowed, her expression growing more serious. "I care because it's obvious you're not happy. I care because I see potential in you, potential you waste on mediocrity." She shook her head, her disapproval clear.

"It's not my business, but if you ever decide to stop hiding behind that safety net and spread your wings, remember - I'm here, waiting." With that, she spun around and strode away, leaving you alone with her words, echoing in your mind. Despite the anger, her words left you pondering. Were you truly settling for less? Could there be something more out there?

“Vanessa wait,” You held onto her wrist. “What do you mean you’re here for me?”

“I think you know what I mean,” Vanessa said with a sly smile, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. "I've made my intentions pretty clear, haven't I?" She took a step closer, her confidence radiating like heat waves.

“I uh, I thought you liked Mike not me,” You responded.

Vanessa chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I never said that," she countered, her lips curving into a wicked grin. She leaned in until her lips were mere inches from your ear. "Besides, Mike is not for you. He's far too predictable, too safe. And trust me, you deserve more."

You couldn’t deny the truth; you were in love with Mike, but it didn’t seem like he was reciprocating your feelings. Now Vanessa was here, and seemingly begging you to be with her, all while exuding a dominating aura.

“And you’re what I deserve?” you teased back, letting yourself be overwhelmed by her presence, yet trying to keep your cool and appear playful.

Vanessa's lips curved into a smirk, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "No, I'm not what you deserve," she said, her voice velvety smooth. "But I'm certainly what you need."

“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

"That's a bold claim," you replied, trying to maintain your composure amidst the storm of emotions brewing inside you. "But what do you get out of it?"

“A taste of you,” Vanessa replied, making you struggle to suppress your blushing as you felt her hot breath against your neck. “Would you let me?”

You swallowed hard, feeling her warm breath tickling your skin. A tangle of excitement and fear twisted in your stomach. "Are you sure?" you asked hesitantly, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

"Positive," she replied, her voice firm yet inviting. "But bear in mind, there's no going back after this."

You took a deep breath, steeling your resolve. "Okay," you said, your voice barely audible. "Let me taste you too."

With surprising strength, Vanessa pulled you forcefully into the darkened maintenance room, slamming the door shut behind them before pushing you against the wall. Her body pressed against yours, pinning you in place as she devoured your mouth hungrily, tongue wrestling with yours in a fierce dance. Her hands roamed freely downwards, skimming over your abdomen before reaching for your belt buckle.

Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled clumsily at her zipper, determined to reciprocate her advances. Finally, both of you met in the middle, both sets of buttons and clasps coming undone simultaneously. Her panties slipped down her thighs, exposing her wetness to your hungry eyes.

Without breaking the lip lock, Vanessa broke free long enough to whisper, "Do you like what you see?"

“God, you’re so hot.” You said, falling to your knees without a thought.

Vanessa's eyes widened in surprise as you sank to your knees, but she quickly recovered, her grin growing wider. "Good," she hissed, her breath ragged. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

She stepped back, giving you room to worship her. Your hands trembled slightly as they ran over her silken skin, tracing the curve of her hips, and the dip of her waist. You paused at the evidence of her arousal, drawing in a sharp breath. Your fingers parted her folds slowly, revealing the slick wetness that awaited you. Taking a deep breath, you dove in, your tongue flicking out to taste her sweetness.

She moaned softly, her fingers twisting in your hair, urging you on. "Faster, harder," she urged, her voice hoarse. "Make me come on your tongue, baby."

As you obeyed, licking and sucking at her tender flesh, you couldn't help but wonder - was this worth the risk? Was it worth losing everything else for her taste? Oh, but the way she moaned your name was making you dizzy by her siren voice.

As you continued to please her, Vanessa's moans grew louder, echoing throughout the empty hallway. Her hips rocked against your face, grinding herself against your mouth. "More, baby," she panted between gasps. "Give me more."

You did as she commanded, thrusting your tongue deeper into her core, exploring every crevice of her most intimate parts. Each sound of approval spurred you on, fueling your desire. Your hands cupped her full breasts, kneading and squeezing them roughly, eliciting another moan from her lips.

The rhythm of your tongue matched the pace of your thrusts, creating a synchronized symphony of lustful sounds. Suddenly, her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her muscles tensing up. "Ah! Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cried out, her voice strained with ecstasy.

Finally spent, she collapsed against the wall, panting heavily. "That was... incredible," Vanessa managed to utter between gasps. "Now it's your turn."

Before you had the chance to properly stand up, the noise of the entrance door opening froze you in horror. Slowly turning around you see Mike, standing right there in the doorway.

“Is this where I'm supposed to say ‘How could you?’” Mike replied, catching the two of you standing in what was an obvious compromising position.

“And what I'm supposed to say, ‘it’s not what it looks like?’” you also replied, still trying not to let your embarrassment get the best of you, as you were caught red-handed.

#Not the detention reference #vanessa shelly #vanessa x reader #fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly smut #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #vanessa shelly x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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archie-sunshine · 6 months

Text

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 1: Violations, Schmiolations!

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Read on AO3 here! Chapter 1.5(NON CANON!) here! Chapter 2 here! Chapter 3 here! Chapter 4 here! Chapter 5 here! Chapter 6 here!

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FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

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Authors notes: This is the fic concept i was talking about in THIS tumblr post, if you're curious to see more of my thought process. This is all very deliberately silly, so try not to take things too seriously, nobody's getting hurt here, this is all for giggles

CHAPTER TAGS: Rodimus/Dipstick, briefly mentioned Rodimus/Hound, Trailcutter, Sprocket, and Pointblank, Ultra Magnus is obtuse but not stupid, Chastity, humiliation, Rodimus being Rodimus

“Ohh, yeah, just like that-” Rodimus sighed out, letting his helm roll back as he ran his digits over his spike. Dipstick wasn’t exactly his finest lay, but he did just fine where it counted.

And anyway, it wasn’t about what Rodimus wanted, this was all part of a noble and courageous cause, of course.

Rodimus let out a shaky moan as Dipstick mouthed along his chassis. An arc of charge shivered up his spinal strut at the feeling of his spike, heavy and thick, inside his valve. He could feel the bot start to lose rhythm, so Rodimus wrapped his legs a bit tighter around his hips and let out a long, pleased moan in Dipstick’s audial. He smirked to himself as the mech bowed forwards with a loud grunt. He sped up the servo on his spike as he chased his own edge.

The hot splashes of transfluid against his inner walls certainly helped. Rodimus offlined his optics as he stroked himself into a perfectly acceptable overload, enjoying the feeling of Dipstick’s fans gusting hot air across his front.

He allowed himself a moment of afterglow, which was quickly interrupted by a ping in his processor. Rodimus scanned it quickly. Oh slag. The speedster wriggled his way out from under Dipstick, who sluggishly pulled back after noting the captain’s attempt to escape.

“Something wrong-?” He began.

“Oh no, nothin at all bud, no worries!” Rodimus said quickly. “I’ve just gotta jet, had so much fun I forgot the time.” He chuckled, swiping at his array with a rag before closing his panels. “Thanks for letting me get to know you better!”

Dipstick nodded slowly, a bit of flush in his cheeks. “Uh- yeah, captain, no worries…”

Rodimus gave him another winning smile, offering a characteristic thumbs up before trotting out of the door to his hab suite with a spring in his step.

He was such a genius.

His ego had taken quite a few dings in recent times, what with his series of captainly ‘whoopsies’, being demoted to ‘co-captain’, having to work with fragging MEGATRON, and of course… the whole list incident. But Rodimus wasn’t stuck in his ways, in fact, he was prepared to help every one of his crew see that he could change.

By letting them know that he was completely at their disposal.

Wink.

He knew after his conversation with Ratchet that he wasn’t going to let the whole thing get him down, not over a faked survey list anyway. There was no point in taking his frustration out if he wasn’t learning something from the situation, so it was only logical that he take the time to listen to each and every member of his crew. So what if he didn’t know who wanted him off the ship? That wouldn’t matter as long as he was thorough in setting up his meetings.

The fact that most of his one on ones so far had ended with an overload was a coincidence, and not at all planned. As humble as Rodimus was, he also knew how hard it was for most bots to resist a sleek frame like his.

He felt a bit of pride bloom in his chassis, and perhaps elsewhere, as he recalled some of the past 15 ‘meetings’.

Hound was definitely a highlight. Rodimus didn’t exactly have a type, but he did enjoy the bulkiness of his frame against his, and certainly enjoyed that thick spike hitting just the right spot…

And Trailcutter of course, much sweeter than he’d thought, a very kind lover, but got a bit weepy when Rodimus had told him he was doing well.

Sprocket had opted for a quick blowjob, as Rodimus had caught him at a bit of a bad time, but he certainly made his enjoyments clear, nearly getting them caught when someone had passed by the supply closet they had tucked themselves into.

Pointblank had taken Rodimus’s spike well, enjoying the roughness that he’d treated him to, but making a mess on Rodimus’s office floor when he finished.

Rodimus whistled jovially as he bounced around the corner and his second in command’s office came into sight. He wasn’t going to be too terribly late for his meeting with Ultra Magnus, either, which was likely a surprise to both of them. Rodimus grinned to himself. Everything was coming up Roddy!

“Captain.” Ultra Magnus said stiffly as Rodimus stepped into the room.

“Maaaagggss! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rodimus plopped down in the seat on the opposite side of his desk, propping his pedes up on the edge of it, kicking Magnus’s nameplate out of place. Ultra Magnus’s optic flickered with irritation as he reached over the desk and knocked Rodimus’s legs off of it.

“I’d like to have a discussion regarding your current extracurricular escapades.” He said, picking up his datapad with one servo while his other adjusted his nameplate back to equilibrium.

Rodimus’s faceplate blanched. “Aaahh, what do you mean?” asked the captain innocently.

“You’ve been interfacing startlingly regularly with several of your subordinates.” Magnus retorted flatly. “Which qualifies as a breach of several ordinances and rules surrounding proper captainly conduct.” He turned his optics from the datapad to lock with Rodimus’. “Which you should be well aware of… as you have surely read through the important manuals and documents I sent you before we began this journey.”

“Pff- Yeah! Of course! You recite the first bit of that code, I'll be able to finish it for sure!” Rodimus lied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Primus, he should have cleaned his valve out more, he could feel Dipstick’s transfluid rolling around in there. It’d get absorbed by the nanites in there soon enough, but for now, it was an uncomfortable reminder while he wriggled under Ultra Magnus’s glare.

“Section 45, subheading 8- On the subject of intimate relations amongst superior officers and subordinates.” Ultra Magnus prompted.

Rodimus shifted again, sitting up straighter and squeezing his legs together. “Uhh, gimme just a skosh more?”

The larger bot let out a disappointed sigh. “Should a superior officer find himself entangled romantically or sexually with a subordinate crew member, the relationship must be made clear to a ship’s Cybertronian Resources officer, and cleared before a council of the captains and subordinate’s peers to assure there is no power imbalance present. Failure to comply is grounds for demotion on the part of the captain, Rodimus.” Ultra Magnus said gravely.

“Oh- Well I don’t know what gave you the idea I was doing such a thing, but I’m not, so we don’t have to worry about it-” Rodimus began, adjusting himself again in his chair in preparation to leave.

“Rodimus, I’m not stupid, I have it on good authority that you are engaging with our crew inappropriately.” Ultra Magnus drawled, clearly growing frustrated with repeating himself.

“Wha- Who told!” Rodimus blurted out, quickly resetting his vocalizer. “W-who lied I mean, we should be sure to meet with whoever is spreading rumours like this-”

“Rodimus I’ve heard you interfacing in two supply closets, seen the transfluid you failed to wipe off your office floor, and watched you walk down the hall to your hab unit leaving a convenient trail of fluids directly from Powerflash’s suite.” -

Rodimus’s intake snapped shut, face flaring a bit with embarrassment. It wasn’t as if Rodimus had any shame about his habits- er, gracious and noble quest for forgiveness- it was just that Ultra Magnus was the last one he wanted to find out about them. “... Yeah…” He muttered defeatedly, slumping back down in his seat. “... So what, am I getting demoted? Is Megatron taking up his rightful place as the true captain? I hope he enjoys sitting in my seat.” Rodimus pouted petulantly.

Ultra Magnus disregarded his grumbling, reaching for a drawer in his desk. “On the contrary, I am going to give you another chance to reconsider your actions.” He stood, tucking something he had grabbed behind his back, and walking around the desk towards him. “Your actions, while unprofessional and incredibly juvenile, do betray a want to rectify some of your past mistakes, which…” Ultra Magnus’s frown softened a bit, begrudgingly allowing a modicum of admission into his tone. “Is a step in the right direction.”

Rodimus’s vents hitched, his optic ridges raising as he sized up his SIC. “Oh- Mags- was this your way of flirting with me?” Rodimus laughed. “Aw, maggy, you didn’t need to do all this, really, just invite me out for drinks some-” The captain’s flirting was cut off when Ultra Magnus reached a servo down to effortlessly knock Rodimus’s legs apart.

“I am not flirting, captain.” He said flatly, all softness melted out of his expression.

Rodimus stared up at him. He could feel his frame starting to heat with quickly tamped down arousal at the way the bigger bot loomed over him.

“I am going to keep you accountable, and in doing so,” Ultra Magnus brought the device he had picked out of his drawer around to his front, Rodimus had never seen something like it before. It was painted bright yellow with black caution stripes, all extendable bars and geometry like it was supposed to hook onto something. “I will make sure that your behaviour ceases this instant.”

“Oh Mags- whatever could you me-” Rodimus began to croon, cut off by sudden sensation as Ultra Magnus’s hands lifted up his hips off the chair. “H-Hey-! Listen Mags- I like em forward but this is a little-”

Rodimus was silenced as Ultra Magnus unceremoniously clamped the device tight around his panels, pressing his thumb hard into a top latch to fasten the locks in place with a low magnetic zap.

Rodimus looked down, dumbfounded, at his own panels, now securely fastened shut. “Did you… just put a car boot… on my panels?” He said, slowly turning his helm up to look at Ultra Magnus.

The bigger bot nodded proudly, folding his arms over his chassis. “I felt this was the only way to keep you from continuing to breach protocol.”

“WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU!!” Rodimus howled, kicking Ultra Magnus’s leg and succeeding only in pushing his chair back a ways. He immediately began to claw at the boot on his panels and was horrified to find it well and truly stuck there.

“Under chapter 79, section 31-A of the crew relations act, the third subsection suggests possible fixes for inappropriate interfacing behaviour, such as-”

“AS MAGNETIZING MY ARRAY CLOSED??! You’re sick!!” Rodimus wailed, still ineffectually pushing at the bars and beams fastened to his junk. “This- THIS has to count as cruel and unusual punishment!!”

“It doesn’t. I’ve checked. And it isn’t permanent either, and yes I did consult Ratchet before proceeding to ensure there would be no adverse effects to your gynecological health.” Ultra Magnus went over his points, walking back around the desk and sitting back down. “I am giving you a decacycle of this punishment, we will check in at the halfway point, and you will have a chance to plead your innocence at that time-”

“A DECACYCLE!!??” Rodimus cried, popping up on his pedes and slamming his servos on the desk. “You- You can’t be serious!! This is humiliating, everyone is going to see-”

“See that you are taking steps towards being less of a sexual pest and more of a professional and honest leader?” Ultra Magnus raised a brow ridge. Rodimus searched in his optics for some sign that he really didn’t believe what he was saying.

“You can’t be that obtuse.” Rodimus growled. THERE! There! Ultra Magnus’s optics flicked away with an uncharacteristic glint.

“Consider any unpleasant feelings as motivation to reconsider your previous leadership choices, captain.” Ultra Magnus said blithely, going back to scanning his datapads. “You are free to go, sir.”

“I hate you.” Rodimus spat, indignantly swatting Magnus’s name plate off his desk before spinning on his heel and storming out of his office.

#valveplug #transformers #mtmte #transformers mtmte #maccadam #lost light #rodimus #/nsfw #my fic #my art #smut #transformers smut #rodimus/everyone

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hornedqueenofhell · 7 months

Text

Lost in the Shadows - A Lost Boys Steddie AU

Happy Halloween all!

The first time Claudia Henderson saw the Harrington's raise a hand to their 9 year old boy she didn't think, just waited until they walked away leaving little Steven there crying and scooped him up. She took him home with her, packed up her and Dustin's belongings and after picking her youngest up from school they left Hawkins, Indiana behind.

Claudia took her sons to Los Angeles, California and they lived there until Steve Harrington, now Henderson, was almost 20. Now Claudia's father was getting up in years and needed some assistance with getting his affairs in order, he offered to let them move in until he passed and then he'd leave the house to them. Steve had been looking at colleges up that way anyway and Claudia knew Dustin would love the nearby pier, so they moved to Santa Carla.

After getting all the boxes set inside the little family decides to go check out the boardwalk. Claudia heads to the shops to inquire about work, see if there's a need for a nurse somewhere, while Steve and Dustin go tearing off towards the rides.

There's a concert going on and Dustin tells Steve to go have fun after he spots a comic book shop and some kids his age. Steve makes his way into the crowd of dancing and thrashing partiers, swaying to the music when he spots a flicker of something out of the corner of his eyes. Deep brown eyes lock onto his for just a moment and Steve rakes his eyes over the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. Thick brown curls, a white low cut shirt with studded military jacket over it decked out in patches and chains. He's got a red headed girl who looks to be about Dustin's age with him and he's trying to get to dance.

When the mystery man turns back Steve is still looking at him, he smiles shyly and tugs a lock of hair over his mouth before letting himself get distracted by the music.

Meanwhile Dustin is becoming friends with and also kinda getting harassed by Mike and Lucas who are obsessed with vampires after their friend Will was supposedly kidnapped by one before being found by the police. They show him all sorts of comics about it and the group becomes close as they all toss questions and theories back and forth, getting the first smile out of Will in weeks.

When the concert wraps up Steve goes looking for the mysterious dark haired beauty and learns his name is Eddie. He offers to escort Eddie home and sees if the other man might be willing to show him around sometime. Eddie looks torn between saying yes and looking very freaked out. His interest wins out though and with a shy nod he allows Steve to lead him to a motorcycle he spent the last summer repairing at his job.

Right as they get on though the pair are surrounded, a blonde with bright blue eyes speaks to Eddie, making snide comments until Steve tells him to shut up. Billy goads Steve into a race and Steve reluctantly agrees so the gang heads to the bluffs, Eddie giving Steve directions on the way. Steve pulls out just in time to avoid going off the cliff and attacks Billy for trying to kill him. The two of them get into it with Billy easily beating the shit out of Steve until he's unconscious.

Steve wakes up to bitter wine being poured in his mouth and Eddie sniffling.

"I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know how to save you."

Steve tries to ask Eddie what's happening but the older man shuts down and just tells him to leave. Steve gets his bike and goes home falling face first into his bed. The next morning Dustin and Steve are unpacking, Steve with his sunglasses on because he feels exhausted and hung over, and Dustin making fun of him the entire time.

The brothers have plans to get groceries that afternoon so Steve shoos Dustin upstairs to go wash up and make himself all pretty while he writes up the list. While in the kitchen Steve is working on the list when the hunger cravings hit and he finds himself almost attacking Dustin until his dog Dart lunges at him and bites him, breaking the thirst's hold over him. Dustin figures out what's happening to Steve and is determined to bring his new friends over to help despite Steve's protests about them ending up in trouble.

Mike immediately tries to stake Steve who grabs the sharpened branch and easily shatters it, surprising all of them. Everyone begins loudly debating on how to 'deal' with Steve and the other vampires but no one has any idea how to besides destroy the head vampire, who none of them know the identity of. Steve says he knows how to get answers and takes off on his bike as Claudia brings home her new boss, Victor Creel. Creel is the head surgeon at the hospital Claudia now works at and she offered him a home cooked meal after he lost a young patient on his table.

Will immediately recognizes him and drags the others off to tell them he knows who the head vampire is, because it's the same guy who kidnapped him. The kids all proceed to torment Creel to get him to leave but Creel sees Will and promises to be back for him.

Steve goes back to the cliffs looking for the vamps hideout, Eddie had gotten the blood to turn him from somewhere so they have to be close. Using his advanced senses he finds the sunken hotel and inside is Eddie. Steve demands answers and Eddie breaks down, telling him how scared he is. He distracts Steve by kissing and sleeping with him instead.

Billy catches them together after and is pissed that Eddie has again failed to kill Steve to complete his own transition and snatches Steve. He drags Steve to a beach side bonfire and forces him to watch as Billy and the others massacre the innocent party goers. He tells Steve that this is what will happen to Eddie and Dustin and all the other kids if he doesn't hand over Will and lets him go.

Steve tells the kids what happened and Billy's demand for Will Byers. No one is going to allow that to happen and plan on destroying Billy and other vamps to weaken Creel before trying to stake him next since Steve will still be a half vampire. Steve has two conditions to the plan, Eddie and Max (who he learned was Billy's half sister) since they are both only half vampires as well. The group agrees to scope out the nest and rescue the two that morning before gathering supplies to kill the vampires.

Steve, Dustin, Lucas and Mike go to the hideout and the kids start running around investigating while Steve carries Max and Eddie out to their grandfather's car he and Dustin borrowed. But the sun weakens him too and he ends up asleep in the driver's seat with Eddie and Max piled in the back. Back inside Lucas has climbed up a tangle of vines and managed to stake Jason Carver, one of Billy's cohorts, killing him. The kids end up sprayed with blood and viscera but all escape safely back to the car, they did unfortunately wake Billy though so they've lost the element of surprise.

Dustin is able to wake Steve who manages to stay conscious long enough to get them home and transfer Eddie and Max to his room before succumbing to the day sleep as well.

Realizing that the adults are useless until sunset Dustin and the kids set out to prepare for Billy's gang. They load up on holy water, garlic, and every silver object they can find. They manage to boobytrap the entire apartment just in time, but they forgot about Dart. Steve runs outside and manages to get the dog to safety as they are besieged.

The kids escape upstairs and manage to take out Angela, but their spilled blood during the fight causes Max to franzy and try to attack Lucas. Eddie stops her and together the group manages to kill Tommy Hagan, Eddie’s hands getting burned from the holy water in the bathtub as he holds Tommy’s head under.

Downstairs Steve goes for round two with Billy, the two swinging at each other with wild abandon until Steve manages to launch Billy into part of the broken staircase, impaling him through and getting rid of the bastard once and for all. Eddie manages to join Steve downstairs, taking his hand and squeezing. Then the screaming starts again.

Creel has one hand wrapped around Will’s neck and is facing down the other kids.

“Take another step closer and I’ll force both of you to tear the children apart.” Creel hisses. Steve shoves the other children behind him, clocking Lucas and Max holding hands as he does. Before he can find a weapon or think of some kind of clever plan Eddie rushes at Creel and tackles him out the window. Eddie shields Will with his body as they fall and both of them land on top of the other vampire.

Quickly pushing Will aside Eddie grabs part of the window pane and stabs it through Creel’s chest. Right as Creel shatters Eddie’s collarbone. Creel dies and Eddie just about keels over himself as his newly human again body chooses right now to start feeling pain again.

Steve rushes out to Eddie’s side, Max sobbing in Lucas’ arms as well, and helps him sit up right as a new voice speaks up.

“Eddie?”

“Wayne!” Eddie reaches out with the arm not cradled to his side as his uncle falls to his knees beside him and hugs him tightly.

“I’ve been worried sick boy, where have you been?” He pets Eddie’s hair and his nephew winces in pain but refuses to let go.

“It’s a long story. What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Wayne pulls back enough to let both Steve and Eddie see Claudia, dressed up for a date, standing a few feet away and looking very pale.

“Is it a long story for you too Stevie?” She eventually pulls herself together enough to ask. Steve nods and throws himself into her arms, letting a few relieved tears of his own escape as he squeezes her tight. “Well, let's get inside then. We can put up a few tarps and you boys can tell us everything.”

They get back inside and Claudia patches everyone up as they all put together their bits of the story. They’re able to reach out to Max’s mom and let her know that they found her daughter. Claudia will be "keeping her overnight for observation,” She tells Ms. Mayfield with a wink to Max, “But Max should be able to head home as soon as she’s cleared.”

Eddie is twenty types of delighted that his Uncle seems to be interested in a lady even though it raises twenty more types of questions about Steve’s hand still being in his. But that’s a problem for tomorrow, they’ve earned a chance to finally rest tonight.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #vampire eddie munson #vampire steve harrington #lost boys au #billy hargrove #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #henry creel #wayne munson #wayne munson x claudia henderson #steve henderson

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maxphilippa · 11 months

Text

The Cursed Trinity.

and the bringers of the curse.

For more context of these AU's, keep on reading: (long post ahead)

These are the three 'dark' AU's that I have but they're midly tame actually.

I'll explain the lore of them briefly:

La Blade's Place AU: So. The AU takes place two or three years after S2 ends, actually, where Mephone4 finally decided to come back instead of finishing S3 first and Knife won against Lightbulb, and tried to confront Taco, but couldn't since she ran away, but definitely left a good crack on her. Knife was the winner of the season and was more than happy to be back with his friends. Though he hasn't done anything "meaningful" with the money yet, he was more than satisfied with winning. Everyone has had their reasons for competing, but Knife's reasons were a secret. He could finally let himself relax and be comfortable for once in his life, and meanwhile he wasn't entirely social, since he had just a very specific group of people he liked to spend time with, he still didn't mind. He saw people reworking their friendships and becoming better at the end.

He met some new contestants and such, from Invitational, and that, but at one point it stopped due to Mephone4 taking a small break. Or so he thinks.

He doesn't... know. No one knows. Invitational is supposed to continue still. Anyway, Knife is pretty happy with his life. He can finally spend time with Mic and Pickle. And even if he didn't win, that sole fact was like a prize to him.

They're pretty chill and just enjoying to be with eachother. Feelings blossom and... They are there. Knife was planning on buying a house for them to live in- though he doesn't mind Hotel OJ, he would have liked that. Maybe even spend their lifes together. He was just very happy with them and as much as he's the jerk, he fell hard.

They're just pretty happy of being together again.

And everything seemed to be so... normal now. Knife saw how Baseball and Suitcase met Clover. They have visits from Tea Kettle and Liferring. Paintbrush and Lightbulb finally being together again. Everyone was happy. And he was happy too, with the people he loved the most. But Taco wasn't doing so good. Taco was already struggling a lot with losing two best friends because of her actions. Let alone the fight she had with Knife, meanwhile she did rough him up a bit on the legs and is the cause of the missing piece of his blade now, he still made the "most of damage" by worsening the crack on her eye. She was still hiding, but using Test Tube's old secret lab as a hidding spot. She was rewiring MePad a lot more to make him much more of an associate rather than a tool. But she wasn't coping well.

Taco felt like she was left out, forgotten, left to rot because of her actions. But why? She also deserved her happy ending! She... she deserved to be happy, like everyone else! Why was Knife able to get what she always wanted? Why was he able to love Pickle and Mic and... not her? Why was he allowed to be happy? Why couldn't she have that? Why was she left alone with no friends, with no one to care about her...? Why was the jerk the one to get all of that? She tried to change, too. But Knife was the only one who got that treatment in the end.

He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of it, she thinks.

Perhaps it's her bitterness showing through, or how much she just hated Knife after their last encounter where he tried to save MePad but failed, perhaps is how much she hates him, perhaps it's how betrayed she feels by both Pickle and Mic, how much she resents the other contestants, how much she hates this fucking show that made a joke out of her, how much she despises it. How much she hates Knife and... herself to an extent.

She think he doesn't deserve it because she wants that. Knife didn't work his ass off for years to get his friends back just to pull them that easily.

And it would get even worse when she found out that they were... you know. Something. She found out since she has been stalki- checking on her two ex-friends, and from the isolation, Taco ends up snapping.

And this leads to the destruction of Hotel OJ, Pickle's death, and Knife going on a hunting mode just to make her pay. A lot more of stuff happens but that's for other posts.

Wired Mic/Rewired Mic AU: An small what if 'Mic wasn't able to save Knife from the fall, leading him to his death, and that makes her realize that what Taco was doing was messed up."

Microphone was shocked over the fact that she saw her friend die thanks to her, and Taco tried to reassure her that it was for the best, but Mic ended up cutting ties with Taco. This hurted Taco but she decided she couldn't let it happen.

So she shots Mic with her gun and that knocks her out. Shortly after, she decides to rewire her in order for her to not leave her side. Meanwhile, Knife was stuck with Lightbulb in the waiting room (where contestants go as they wait for Mephone4 to revive them), and was processing his first death. But he was worried about whatever could happen to Mic and what Taco could do. Once they get regenerated, he's fucking worried and processing everything still, and went to check on Mic, but she was so...

Different.

She wasn't Mic anymore. It's like someone changed her forever.

CIT / Clock Is Ticking AU: To put it shortly, in Burgs's own words when we were developing this AU yesterday, it's basically a swap between Mic and Pickle but Mic gets hurt in second-hand.

But it's actually more complicated than that.

So the main thing with this AU is that:

Pickle ended up reading Taco's letters and made his way back to her. Only to never be seen again.

So it happens shortly after S1 ends + once Hotel OJ is completely done, Pickle was still sensitive and grieving over losing his best friend. So he's not coping well.

Knife notices this and tries to be there with him, and tells him that Taco isn't worth the trouble, and that she made her choice when she did all of that. But Pickle didn't want to believe it. She was his best friend! Someone he loved so very much! She... she didn't mean it. She wouldn't, right? But he decides to listen to Knife and... begins to get closer to him too. And he really finds his company enjoyable. They became good friends, Knife being there whenever he felt down, even if Knife considered himself to not be great at this type of stuff, he was still there for Pickle. But... Pickle didn't feel right even then.

He felt like something was missing. But he was moving on. He felt like he didn't need Taco anymore.

He was okay.

Until the letters came.

He didn't say anything to Knife since he felt like the poor guy was probably tired of his problems and had his own, so he kept them as a secret in the start. He threw them out the first times since he really didn't want to fall for it, but... the longer the time passed... the pain and how much he still missed her took over?

So...

Maybe just one look at them wouldn't hurt, right?

With sweet little lies (that's what Knife says), words of regret and fake hopes, Taco's letters infected his brain. Every single one of them was her apologizing and asking him if they could maybe talk it out. If they could have what they had back then. Pickle couldn't stop thinking about them.

And he kept on getting those again and again. How sorry Taco felt, how she never truly meant it and how she cared about him- how she loved her "best friend".

Pickle...

Pickle started to consider it.

So, without telling Knife anything, he writes an letter and sends it to wherever Taco might be. He says that he's willing to chat things out, but that he's waiting for an response.

And Taco... replies to the letter, actually excited, after months of writing, she got a response. So she replies with a letter that says a place and hour where they could meet.

Pickle receives the letter and... he feels... weird. This isn't what Knife told him to... this isn't what they told him to do. But... would it really hurt anyone? If he just talked things out with her? Knife didn't know her like he did... he tries to make excuses for her, even when Knife told him that he's worth much more than the treatment Taco gave him.

But even then... he still cared for Knife. Knife was his best friend too.

So he spoke to the blade one last time before going to talk to Taco, only for him to never come back again.

The chat was rather emotional,

Since Pickle thanked Knife for everything and hugged him. It didn't surprise Knife since the vegetable was usually a pretty affectionate guy once he got comfortable with someone.

He just wishes that he asked where he was going before Pickle disappeared.

Pickle found Taco in the forest, and she seemed to be just like before. But it was too good to be true, he thinks, so Taco notices that and decides to talk things out with him properly. So far, she was apologizing for basically using him, and for the things she said to him. Pickle felt his heart break at that, since even if he was... slowly healing, he still wanted to hear that coming from her own mouth.

And perhaps she meant it. Or perhaps she did not. Pickle doesn't know, but he wants to believe that she did. Pickle forgives her at the end, and Taco notices that he's in a vulnerable state. And maybe she needed him. Maybe, she noticed how attached she got to him in truth. That's why she was writing letters for months. She wanted him back at all costs.

So Taco offers him to stay with her and run away.

Of course, Pickle is fucking shocked at that, since they only worked out their things recently, and that was... so much to do, actually. He didn't want to leave his friends.

But then again. Taco wouldn't dare to lose him. Not again. Not ever. He was the only friend she truly cared about. So just before Pickle was about to decline, she quickly used an weakness of his in her favor: how naive he was and how he tried to see the good in his friends at all times.

Taco was... his best friend, and she apologized. She could have her reasons to ask him about that.

But.

Convincing someone that you're all that they need and that their friends were only lying to them out of pity isn't exactly something a friend would do, right?

Pickle told himself, "I'm just going to stay for a bit, it'll be okay",

And that bit became days.

And those days became weeks.

And those weeks became months.

And those months...

Became years.

He wasn't like good ol' Pickle anymore ever since that time passed.

Even if Taco truly cared about him in a way, she got him back.

And he's completely loyal to her thanks to her lies and manipulation.

Because no one else could truly ever care about him. Or that's how he felt.

Taco needed someone to win the prize and, who's the best option for that when your best friend is also your associate and alliance member? Someone who you know would never dare to break your loyalty.

Because you're all that they have at the end of the day.

Shoutout to @burgycreeper405-blog for helping me develop these au's too like she's a real homie love u mate you're so cool

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babyboibucky · 2 years

Text

Don’t Be A Stranger

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader x Marc Spector

Summary: Your rough night takes an interesting turn when you meet an old friend and a stranger.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: some insecurity, self-doubt and tad bit of angst sksksks

A/N: Been a while since I last wrote so please forgive me for this messy piece lmao

DBAS Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“So will I see you again?”

The awkward smile on your face was enough to let your date know that no, definitely not. Not even if he was introduced by a good friend of yours. He was a bit narcissistic and kept on talking shit about his work colleagues.

“Are you kidding me?” John snickered when you politely turned him down.

You shrugged, “I just…I don’t see this going anywhere. I just don’t think we get along well.” You explained and awkwardly stood outside the restaurant.

John rolled his eyes, “That’s probably the reason why no one wants you. Bitch.” He huffed out and brushed past you.

You gasped in disbelief because John was such a gentleman the entire night. But then again, the rejection merely showed his true colors so that was quite a win for you.

“What a fucking dick.” You said with a bitter chuckle.

Letting out a sigh, you checked your watch for the time and realized that it was still too early to head home. Besides, it was a Friday and maybe your friends would want to hang out to cap off the week.

Except that they were all booked— either they were out with their work colleagues or out on a date.

You weren’t one to feel pity for yourself for being single for a long time now, but times like this, you sometimes wished you had someone to keep you company.

It wasn’t like you were desperate for love but looking back on your dating history, it was obvious that you were quite unlucky. None of the men you went out with turned into a full relationship. They were either not ready to commit or just…didn’t like you back.

Fuck John for being a douchebag, you didn’t like him that much anyway but his words made you wonder whether you were the problem all along.

None of your previous dates worked out in your favor and the last time you actually genuinely liked someone, he ended up rejecting you despite the chemistry you felt the two of you had.

“Guess it’s just me, myself and I tonight. Again.” You sighed and decided to go to the bar you frequented at.

“Oh thank god, you’re here.” You heaved out a sigh of relief upon seeing your favorite bartender turned good friend, Natasha, at the bar.

Nat chuckled as she watched you heavily sit up on the stool, “Rough date night?” She asked with interest, knowing what your agenda was for the night.

You groaned, “If it was a successful one I wouldn’t be here.”

“Too bad for you but great news for me because with the kind of drink I’m gonna make for you, you’re gonna be tipping me real good.” Nat teased, ignoring your half-hearted protest while mixing up your drink.

She was right though, because aside from her amazing cocktails and great service, you actually really liked the bar’s ambiance.

It wasn’t the kind of bar with smoke machines and loud music, it had a very chill vibe which is why you liked it. Most of the crowd tonight were a groups of friends and couples, in fact, you were the only one who didn’t have any company.

It was rare for you to feel emotional about being alone but with everything that happened tonight, you decided to allow yourself to sulk and feel pretty shitty about it.

Nat handed you your cocktail with a wink before excusing herself to tend to the other customers, leaving you to simply entertain yourself.

As if you weren’t feeling pretty bad enough, you just had to see a particular someone walk in the bar with a beautiful woman trailing behind him.

“Fuck!” You grunted, choking on your drink.

“You okay?” Nat rushed over to you, quickly fetching you a glass of water.

You coughed a couple more times before turning your back to the entrance, clearly hiding from someone. “He’s here!” You whispered.

Nat frowned, “Who’s here?” she asked, stretching his neck to scan the surroundings.

“Bucky!” You responded.

The worried look on Nat’s face quickly turned into an amused grin, there was a hint if disbelief in there but mostly amusement.

“The guy who ghosted you?” Nat said before shaking her head, “Sorry, I meant to say…the guy you really liked but left you hanging.” She corrected herself.

You grimaced at her, “Shut up. That was a long time ago.” You said, still hiding ever so subtly.

Nat narrowed her eyes at you, “I thought you were over him.”

“I am but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to see him again!” You grunted, “C’mon, help me find an escape!”

Nat smirked, “I would, but I think it’s too late for that.”

Frowning again, you scrunch your face in irritation, “What do you mea—“

“I knew it was you.”

God fucking dammit.

Nat merely shrugged her shoulders before teasingly blowing you a kiss, disappearing behind the bar counter to leave you to deal with none other than Bucky.

And his girl. Great.

Slowly turning around, you tried your hardest to look surprised to see him, “Bucky? Wow, I didn’t think you would recognize me.” You awkwardly laugh.

It’s been a little over two years since you last saw him and yet nothing’s changed about him. If any, he had gotten even more handsome— his jawline was still chiseled as ever, eyes the bluest you’d seen. Time has been very kind to him, you sort of hated it.

He looked pleased to see you much to your surprise. How ironic given how awkward he was the last time you two spent time together. The memories were enough to remind you how frustrated you were with what happened.

“I’d recognize you from a mile away.” He said with a small smile.

Hold up, was that your heart accelerating?! You were supposed to hate him after what he did, why the hell did butterflies erupt in your stomach?!

You were close to getting lost in his eyes— again— until Bucky turned to the woman beside him, placing a hand on the small of her back as he introduced her to you.

“This is Naomi, my…uhhh” Bucky said, turning over to Naomi who lightly chuckled.

“Girlfriend. We got into a relationship recently so the whole label thingy is new to us.” She explained, extending her arm for a handshake.

Bucky nodded, “Right. Yes.” He said and introduced you, “She’s…she’s an old friend.”

You felt your chest tighten at the mention of being just an old friend. Technically speaking, you were an old friend but given your history with Bucky, you felt like at some point you were more than just a friend.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shook Naomi’s hand and took it as an opportunity to take a good look at her.

She was tall and had a great body, you could tell that she was fit. Her dirty blonde hair was tied up into a neat ponytail and she just exuded confidence right off the bat.

You wondered how she met Bucky and what was so special about her. There was a slight pang in your heart as you let your thoughts take over your mind.

It could’ve been you.

All this time you thought you were over Bucky, hell, your friends told you that what you had with him wasn’t even that special. What did they call it? A “situationship”? Maybe to them it was just a harmless fling, to you though, it meant more than that.

You thought you were fine but now you were back to wondering where it went wrong. Where you went wrong.

Naomi spoke up and snapped you out of your thoughts, the next thing you knew you were somewhat third-wheeling them when they ended up joining you by the bar.

Despite the countless times you glared at Nat asking for help, none worked because customers started to flood in keeping her occupied.

Apparently, Bucky met Naomi at the gym and they instantly got along well. They shared the same hobbies and with Naomi’s figure and face, who could blame Bucky for asking her out?

You wanted to hate her for making it seem so easy to make Bucky attracted to her. God, you wanted to diss her and roll your eyes at her but she seemed nice. It would only make you look like the bad guy if you hated her.

“So how’d you and Bucky meet?” Naomi asked.

Oh no. You tried to scramble your brain for something but panic got the best of you. However, Bucky swooped in and managed to stay calm as he talked.

“Sam is our mutual friend. I wasn’t the friendliest back then but she was patient and kind. We got along really well.” Bucky explained, looking at you with those eyes that made your knees buckle.

Your heart skipped a beat when he looked at you like that, but you were quick to put out the fire that almost sparked within you because no, you weren’t going to give in to your false assumptions.

Besides, Naomi was around and it would be rude to think that maybe, Bucky realized that he felt the same way for you.

“And did you guys stop hanging out? Seems like it’s been a while since you last caught up with each other.” Naomi asked.

“I’m sorry if I sounded nosy!” She quickly caught herself, “It’s just that I haven’t met any of Bucky’s friends aside from Sam and knowing that he has a female friend that I can hang out with excites me.” She laughed.

Bucky seemed embarrassed and brushed her off, trying to change the topic. But something about seeing him again made you snap.

“Life happened, I guess.” You said nonchalantly, meeting Bucky’s gaze with coldness in your eyes.

“Sometimes people grow apart and you have no idea why.” You added and noticed how taken aback Bucky was.

The silence was a bit awkward and before things could go out of hand, you let out a light laugh and shrugged, “Work got in the way, been very busy with it. But I’m glad we ran into each other again!” You said with faux enthusiasm.

“And I’m glad he has you now, Naomi! I never thought there would come a day when Bucky would be brave enough to get into a relationship.” You added before finishing your drink in one go.

Naomi laughed before agreeing about work getting in the way of friendships. Thankfully, she didn’t seem suspicious of your and Bucky’s past. She excused herself to go to the restroom and kissed Bucky’s cheek before walking away.

Just like that, the atmosphere between you and Bucky changed. You could feel the tension brewing and you were sure Bucky was aware of it too. You decided to keep quiet but he was the first to break the silence.

“How have you been?” He asked.

“Good.” You curtly responded.

Bucky nodded, “I’m sorry if I—“

“We don’t have to talk about it, Bucky. It’s been years and we’re both adults, sometimes things just don’t work out.” You felt pathetic because that was how it was supposed to be and yet you still couldn’t let go of Bucky after all this time.

Maybe he’s the reason why your recent dates and flings never worked out. Because you were so hung up on him even though what you had with him was never official.

You were hoping that one day, he’d come to his senses and regret that he left you hanging. You thought it was going to be today but then Naomi was in the picture.

You felt bitter, you finally admitted it.

Bucky was the one who ghosted you and he got to have the happy ending while you suffered? That didn’t seem fair and maybe you were being petty right now but with the alcohol influencing your emotions, you wanted to get back at him.

You wanted to make him feel bad for leaving you like that, you wanted to prove to him that you were doing so much better than him even after what he did.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Bucky asked.

Naomi returned and wrapped around Bucky’s arm, “What are you two talking about?” She asked with a smile.

“Just asked her whether she’s seeing someone.” Bucky said with a small smile.

Naomi’s eyes glinted with excitement, “Fun! Are you? Because I would love to go on a double date, right Buck?”

There was something in the way Bucky looked at you that you couldn’t quite understand. It was as if he was nervous to know whether you were in fact, seeing someone, like he was hoping you weren’t.

That was when an idea popped into your mind the same time your eyes caught sight of someone who just entered the bar.

Without thinking twice, you nodded with a smirk, “I am and he’s actually about to join us.”

The man you were eyeing looked a bit older than Bucky, he was tanned and had a pair of smoldering eyes that could command an entire room with a single look. Dark and curly hair with a stance that oozed with authority— he was perfect.

“Hey, stranger!” You called out.

The man looked at you in confusion and despite your nerves, you managed to beckon for him to come closer.

His thick brows furrowed when he reached you, opening his mouth to probably ask who the hell you were. But you were quick to shut him up when you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

The kiss probably didn’t last long but it felt like time slowed down when your lips met his. He didn’t return it but didn’t push you away either. Before pulling apart, you stole a quick glance at Bucky and smirked when you saw the frown on his face.

You pulled away from the kiss but only to press another one on the man’s cheek, near his ear before whispering, “Play along, please.”

“What took you so long?” You asked, wiping the hint of lipstick on the stranger’s lips using your thumb.

You almost thought that he was going to freak out and embarrass you, but then he grabbed your wrist before you could even remove your hand from his face and press a kiss on your palm.

“Sorry, babe. Got held up at work.” He said.

You subtly let out a sigh of relief before turning to Bucky and Naomi, “This is Bucky, an old friend…” you said with emphasis, “and his girlfriend, Naomi.”

And then you looked at the stranger worriedly when you realized that he was that— a stranger, whose name you didn’t even ask.

Not like you had a chance to do so with the bold stunt you just pulled.

“And this is my boyfriend…” you carefully trailed, glancing at the man nervously.

He cleared his throat and extended his arm, firmly shaking Bucky’s hand first before introducing himself.

“Marc. Marc Spector.”

#bbb writes #bucky barnes #bucky #marc spector #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #moon knight #sebastian stan #oscar isaac

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btr-rewatch · 3 months

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Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 11: “Big Time Jobs”

I remember this one being one of my favorite episodes. Excited to rewatch it!

Highlights: The boys set out to make some dough. Also: Mirror Realm Alter Egos, the worst sign-spinners on the planet, and sentient coffee makers.

We begin with the guys preparing for the "Palm Woods 500 Invitational All-Terrain Decathlon Classic." The first one to run around the building and ring the bell at the front desk wins a large homemade trophy made of boxes covered with shiny wrapping paper with a colander on top. Very fancy.

Also, Kendall doesn't pronounce "decathlon" correctly. He says "discathlon," which, as far as I've been able to tell from briefly looking it up, isn't a real word. I mean, it's something you could chalk up to in-universe as a term the boys made up on their own, but this is probably just Kendall Schmidt flubbing the line.

The race goes about as well as you'd expect.

Carlos is declared the winner!

An enraged Bitters then tells the boys that they have to pay for all the damage they've caused, which amounts to $2,000 (and 30¢). Gustavo is NOT happy that his dogs have gotten themselves into so much trouble. He's sick of them breaking things, which leads us into a montage of some of the things around the studio they've broken in the last several months. Shout out to my favorite part of the montage:

Because like...why. Why is James singing a taunting song about having a smoothie? Why does this make Kendall so upset that he feels the need to smack it straight outta James's hand? There's missing context here. James and Kendall were definitely just not getting along that day, and this was the final straw.

Anyway, Gustavo tells them that they have to pay him his $2,000 back, and until they do, they're not allowed in the Palm Woods pool. In order to come up with $500 each, they're going to need to get jobs. This is horrifying news to our boys.

Carlos gets stuck being Gustavo's production assistant, and James Kendall, and Logan return to the Palm Woods to do some job searching. After reading through a listing of horrible jobs, Kendall and Logan set out to become sign spinners, and James finds an ad for "the new face of Cuda." Obviously, he thinks this is the perfect job for him.

This leads into that bizarre but delightful scene where he talks to himself in the mirror, but it's like...some sort of alter-ego with a slightly deeper voice??

Mirror James: "Look at yourself! Who's handsomer than you?"

James: "No one!"

Mirror James: "Who's got more style than you?"

James: "No one!"

Mirror James: "Who's smarter than you?"

James: "Well, lots of people. But that has nothing to do with being a model."

I mean...he's right. What a himbo. Katie appoints herself as James's manager, and the two of them set out to take the fashion world by storm.

Meanwhile, at Kendall and Logan's sign-spinning job:

Yeah, they get fired pretty quickly. Also, can I point out that one of my first thoughts upon watching the above moment was how close they came to possibly being hit by cars?? If either one of them had fallen to the street instead, they would have died. And it would have been in the stupidest way possible. Cause of death? SIGN SPINNING.

And we're not even too far into this episode yet, but I'm enjoying this Kendall and Logan storyline. I don't think there have been many moments thus far in the series where it's just been the two of them paired up ("Big Time Crib" is the only one that comes to mind), and I like seeing them teamed up for some shenanigans. I've always had a soft spot for the Kendall and Logan dynamic, especially when it comes to Kendall's ability to help Logan let loose. I feel like...Logan feels the most secure with Kendall? Which makes sense because Kendall is the leader, but still. It's nice to see Logan come out of his shell a bit, and seeing him act all goofy and over the top with Kendall as they (horribly) spin those signs is one of those moments.

Onto Carlos's story! He's been told to get a coffee for Gustavo, and can I just say how much I love the "Carlos does battle with a coffee maker" plot? This boy is given such a simple task: get coffee, and this machine proceeds to make his life miserable for the rest of the episode.

I'm not sure how many people currently in the fandom were also on Tumblr back when the series was on, but there was this popular BTR blog that consisted of posting beautiful, aesthetic pictures with ridiculous quotes from the show on them. That was the whole blog, and the fandom loved it. There are two specific ones I remember, and I've recreated them here so those who didn't get the original experience can see what I'm talking about.

The BTR fandom sure was something. Wish I could remember what the blog was called (though I'm not sure it'd even still be up).

While Carlos fights for his life at Rocque Records, Kendall and Logan return to 2J to try to find new jobs. After reading off a series of ridiculous options, Kendall has his own idea

Before Kendall can drag Logan off to the nearest hospital to have their kidney's extracted, there's a knock at the door. A woman has come to ask if Mrs. Knight is home and can watch her son, and Kendall agrees to do it (she'll pay them $20 an hour). This gives the guys the idea to offer a babysitting service in order to earn the money they need. They quickly have lots of eager parents lined up to take advantage of their convenient service.

Over at James's modeling job, he quickly realizes that he ain't the only pretty face in town.

They have a brief "face-off," but James is no match for all the handsome in the room, and he just like. Passes out.

Over at Kendall and Logan Babysitting Services Incorporated, things quickly fall apart. Unable to handle the energy of eight kids, Kendall and Logan end up tied to chairs. Mama Knight comes to rescue them, but she quickly flees the premises after.

We return to Carlos for a moment to check on how he's doing, which is Not Well. The room is being filled with foam, and unplugging the coffee maker does nothing since it has a "reserve power" mode. Carlos also causes it to activate its "self-defense" mode when he smacks it several times.

Down at the Palm Woods lobby, a depressed James is sipping a smoothie. He sadly tells Katie, "In Minnesota, I was 'The Face.' Now, I'm just 'A Face.' I'm just a handsome grain of sand on an extremely beautiful beach."

Yeah, so he's doing great.

Meanwhile, Kendall and Logan are having a day

They decide to put the kids' energy to good use and have them run a car-washing service while they sit back and collect the money.

Back at Rocque Records, (wow, this episode is busy) Kelly discovers the catastrophe unfolding in the break room and freaks out. When Carlos says they have to destroy the machine, she protests. That is, until things get personal.

"Kelly is dumb. Women are weak," the coffee machine says (it also calls her "cupcake"), to which she and Carlos promptly charge into the room to attack it with a bat and microphone stand. Together, they defeat C.A.L.

Katie gets James another modeling gig for Cuda—an elbow model for chapped elbow cream. James is not happy. He angrily model-walks away.

However, he's stopped in his tracks by none other than Mirror James, who tells him to embrace the job and his beautiful elbow so they can get back to the pool. James agrees and returns to the photoshoot.

I cannot get over the Mirror James stuff. Does this happen in any other episodes?? I can't remember. What is WRONG with him?

We then go to wrap up the babysitting plot. All the parents come to pick up their kids while Kendall and Logan happily take the payment owed them after a day of such suffering.

And with that, the guys have earned all the money needed to pay Gustavo back! It took them less than a day, lol. But they only have a few seconds to celebrate before an angry mob descends upon them demanding pay for all the additional chaos caused in their money-making attempts. Among the charges are a fine from the city for running an illegal daycare, destroying that coffee maker (an $8,000 prototype), and the cost of James's wardrobe from his modeling gig. So, when all is said and done, they've paid Gustavo back the $2,000.30, but now they owe him $14,089.

Gustavo flips his lid, starts destroying things around the studio, and gets caught by Griffin, who tells Gustavo he has to pay him back all that money. We end the episode with Kelly, Gustavo, and the guys all running a car wash at the Palm Woods.

There's so much to love about this episode. Disaster follows these boys wherever they go. They cannot have a normal day if they tried.

#big time rush #btr #kendall knight #carlos garcia #james diamond #logan mitchell #btr rewatch #btr season 1

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poupeesdecirque · 5 months

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"Tainted Dolls" - And how I handle them

I have mentioned on IG I want to actually blog more, write down my thoughts and impressions to get things out of my mind and share my expierence. This is a rather personal entry on how I handle dolls that got "tainted" in some way.

With "tainted" I mean difficulties that I came across during ordering, receiving, working with other artists, postal services and maybe my own standards.

The pictures above all feature some different dolls that got tainted for me, I have a lot more some carry heavier weight, some have lost their tainted status/I forgot about it, some are old, some are pretty recent.

If you are interested in those please read ahead.

Let's define what kind of dolls truly fall under the "tainted" term for me with examples and how I handled them ever since. Not doing all that's... too much of negativity to deal with rn. Starting with some ages cases and moving on to more recent dolls to see how things can develop.

Before I start I can tell I always try to give the doll a chance, to win my "love". There was one case I but the doll/head on sale after unboxing because I was so disappointed, let's start with that one.

Elisa - Unoa Lusis FP - Wrong Colors

With Elisa it is... Ara was my main Face up Artist for years but I wanted to expand a bit. After Nathan (Elisa's BF) was painted by Lynsey and it worked greatly I send Elisa's FP off to another local Artist to paint her. The photos looked great and I always wanted a cute Unoa.

But as I unboxed the FP the colors were completely off, nothing matched to the photos, the artist was baffled insisting the photos were correct. I put the FP on sale right away ... she was bought by said face up artist .. well.

I can tell I later on got my Unoa Lusis with the most beautiful Face up I think this was a gap to fill.

Now to the dolls that got a chance with me:

Samuel (LM Little Bear) - Goodbye head?

Samuel's 2nd shell was send to Canada for a Face up by Belladonna. I absolutely adored her style & her circus crew but I wasn't in for what was upon me. She went mia. Alright I knew she did that from time to time - I tried anyways. But she went really mia on doll forums but was super active on Instagram and I actually made my IG account back then to get in touch with there as she didn't reply to mails or PMs. She told me the same over and over again if she didn't ignore me or pretended I never wrote her. It took me months of back & forth to get him home after treatening to open a paypal dispute after the time she told me like 4 or 5 times "he'll be ready by the end of the week" but poured out Cosplay photos and was super active in everything but not this commission. In the end I finally got him back 3 months overdue. After I ordered a replacement head because I was certain to never see this head again.

As I got him back I instantly loved him and all the hassle was almost forgotten. I can tell he is a very tame case of 'tainted'. The replacement head was send to a local artist whom I trust a lot to paint him as casual variant. Ever since Samuel is fine for me.

There are several other cases in which issues with the Face up artist left a bitter taste for me, may it be the Artist being incredibly weird, taking forever or me getting back dolls unfinished, some of the dolls are doing great, some still have a bitter vibe, I won't get into all here. I can tell that the majority of the ones with face up issues are indeed dolls I am not doing much with, I take them out here and there but don't 'feel' it. Why don't I sell those? Well I still like the dolls and it's not like they feel anything, I can put them on display and still think they look nice.

Captain - Dear Mine Gorgi - Wrong delivery

Captain was a curious case, you might wonder what was wrong with the little fella?

Well it was that this was his first unboxing ....

Yep, I got send the wrong doll. I was devastated. But gladly Dearmine helped out, I was allowed to send the doll back, they paid me the shipping and shipped out the correct doll later. This got happily resolved and Captain doesn't feel tainted for me anymore.

Weirdly Tyki arrving broken/bend on arrivel didn't taint him for me, just in case you were wondering.

Artists going MiA - What about my doll?

I'll put these two together as they are similar.

First case here is a "happily resolved" I will start with that one. The doll in question is my ZeligenArt Anglerfish. Marie went mia from time to time, updated here and there. But after a year and her being mia for some time I made a callout post asking if somebody had heard of her as I knew she had some of the dolls in for a while. She got to me within hours, send my doll out the coming week and even gifted me a 3D file of a bjd. Which was the BJD Shark (Hanke), the whole transaction ended well and I like the doll, it's not taken out much but it's a fish anyways, that's okay.

Second case is the infamous Bulbasaur from Into the Deep Dolls. I never have expierenced such a liar of an artists in before. His bad luck was that Ara had an order going on as well and I could call out his lies af of "postal service is not operating in your country" as Ara got the order in a day prior. It was fight as the order date had passed any protection in the end I got the doll tossed some paint onto it, not even posted a boxopening as I hated it so much but felt bad when I would sell it as it's fanart of a series and made me torn from the start. I didn't even look at the doll for over a year.

Until my hobby burnout came and I somewhat decided to try everything to make it better.. Pumpkins helped. I repainted the little thing.

Now it's on a better display and taken out for photos even.

The Storyteller - DC Alva - Perfectionism and the Burnout done

Coming to more recent or interesting cases here. The Storyteller. What is wrong with him? I can tell my own personal standards. I projected a lot into his, I was hyperfixated on this character, everything needed to be perfect. As I failed to paint him myself I send him out to theUgliestWife who did an amazing job painting him. But upon arrival none of his eye made him look like what I wanted him to be, he looked DEAD to me. I have to say he arrived during the time my hobby burnout was happening and every little bit was enough to make me wheep. (I will get to the worst case here after him)

The photoshoot above is the 2nd take of the first try, the first is still so ugly to me that I can't look at the photos. The 2nd photoshoot is okay-ish but still feels icky.

I tried over and over again, had him ob display next to me, every time I changed things and took photos it felt wrong and dead. But I loved the character, I think in 2023, after 2 years of having him, I finally resolved the issue. He is easier for me now, the taint still swings with him a bit. But photos feel more natural. I think the main point was retaking the photoshoot that started it all.

So that's how he now feels for me:

At least as doll, the character is still not back to full force with me, OCs are hard to me. But I need the distance I guess. Maybe one day I will get into them again.

The UPS Desaster & Hobby Burn Out Triangle

What finally had led to my hobby burn out might be that photoshooting with the Storyteller as last drop but a big chunk of it was the UPS Desaster.

To make it short: these three dolls were shipped in May and arrived in August. They arrived in Germany in May. I live in Germany. They were scanned each day by UPS over and over and over again, 3 hours from where I live. The dealer (Angelesque) helped from the other side trying to free the parcel. After almost 3 full months in transit I finally got the dolls (I had to treaten them with a lawyer...), pissed off because I wanted to work on them to get them to the sea with me, I was super into merfolk around that time and even ordered one more which got tainted as well, but well they came in too late.

I pulled through customizing all three dolls at insane speed because around that time I kinda had a mental race going on with having them done upon arrival to be one of the first to have that type of doll finished ... I have literally no idea why that was a thing for me but it somehow developed. This was not possible anymore and my little shell got more and more cracks. I completely burned myself out by doing insane mods on them (breast removal by hand, additive mods, bodyblush for 3 dolls, 2 of them 70+), face ups, hair, photos. I was drained for my full summer break and beyond. I tried to get into things again but nope. Then the thing with the Storyteller happened. OCs seemed to be cursed for me, they didn't spark joy anymore. That's when I turned into fandolls again and pumpkins.

Kaneki saved my ass and Pumpkins helped, a few dolls (OCs) arrived around that time I never really got into them. Those are Tamani and Leopold.

They fall into the Triangle, I never was able to develop their characters as they somehow hit a negative nerve for me. I really like them as doll they are pretty to look at. What got me out was my DC Enoch arriving, scrapping making him into a OC (he was planned as Guardian for the Storyteller and uh... nope not happening), turning him into Clown Mana saved my hobby ass and got me back into the hobby along with D.Gray-man. Things got a bit lighter and I even got 1-2 "fresh" dolls after that but not for a "race" like I did in earlier days.

But a doll whom I ordered during the high time of the Burnout was Eeske my DC Beacher

She kinda got the treatment of "okay I will customize you but toss you in a corner afterwards" and I still kind of treat her like that. I will eventually come back to her when more time has passed.

This whole ordeal peaked with ...

Preorders out of Hell

These have different stories and this still hurts as they are super fresh .. but alright. Imagine you just had the whole Bulbasaur fuckup that leant into UPS being the most horrible shipping service and ultimately getting into a hobby burn out here. This all within a span of several months.

Pumpkins and D.Gray-man were my safety zone here. I got several preordered, got some heads, all fun and stuff.

1 - Pumpkins by Mirror. Not Mirror's fault she shipped my order in time but ... the postal service ate it. She replaced the order and 1 year later I had it and she even gifted me the other two heads. I can tell the little pumpkin Patchlings are already 'green lit' for me and have lost their tainted status.

2 - The failed Lavi.

Picture here is Lavi's 2nd shell as I am still super pissed towards the artist of the first shell. To make it short: Preorder happened, Preorder had problems with the Casting. Got promised a solution (that was Other caster with Body), solution was cancelled because "It's impossible to make such a body" (yeah they promised to make it without people needing to pay what was not that smart to begin with but alright, I would have paid for a matching body) ALBEIT happiliy posting that they made up a body in no time on their media. Preorder forth and back, got told "I will write each of you what we will do" - Refund without any further word. While we were mutuals. Artist pretending nothing happened towards me, Refund was less than what I had paid because of the exchange rates, I didn't get any apology, they got protected by the community, I got told to shut up. Ultimately I blocked the artist everywhere for my own sanity. And my mind will hate you if you support such an asshole behavior. End of story.

I got a replacement for Lavi because I want to have him as doll, I want to get over with this but he is still super hard for me. I am not sure if this head will work but I will try.

3 - Vampire Pumpkin not so much fun

Okay you have two lost pumpkin heads in the mail, a preorder failing on you and then a preorder going on for 1 year already with the artist ghosting you for two months.

This was not fun, I got Sokrates after some very questionable mails on my side and then ... UPS. Trying. the. same. shit. as. with. the. mermaids.

But this time with the artist (aka sender) not cooperating with helping me to free the parcel. I played the lawyer card right away as I was still getting flashbacks from the mermaids. As he arrived after 1 1/2 years after I ordered him I pushed him back on my working list for almost a year. I painted him inbetween to "do" something on him but well.

He is now a full doll and working on him yesterday was not a "yay he's here" but more "oh lord he is here finally this shitshow will end, come on I just want you to be done to put you into a dark corner and forget you exist".

The whole thing resulted in me pushing back ordering dolls/bodies for the heads I got as I wasn't able to deal with shit anymore. I turned to making more clothes for the dolls I have, finish my own head, pour more time into the customs overall. And got Cosplay sewing back to my mind. Yes, Cosplay is now my way to cope when the Hobby turns its back on me.

I mean there are things that frustrate me, but if I am the one doing it (aka being stupid while sewing) I am at fault and can try again later, I want to give my dolls a chance too. Ultimately I get up when I fall, I like my dolls.

I think the best way for me is to cool down for a while, set them aside and try again later on. The later could be the next day, month or even years later.

Some never will reach the status others have, some always will have a bitter taste to them. Some turn into fun dolls to have, some into favorites maybe. It's different from doll to doll.

#blog #bjd meta #hobby meta #idk??

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aphroditelovesu · 2 years

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hello!

this isnt a request but a question: what would happen if two gods wanted the same darling? and if the yanderes were platonic would they be more likely to share? (like would they both parent a child reader or would certain gods want to be their only mom/dad/parent)

(P.S: I hope u have an amazing day, ur amazing 💗) - 🌓 anon

Hmm... That will depend on who the gods are. For example, Hera, in a romantic or platonic yan, would not be willing to share the reader. It doesn't matter with who (except with her husband, she is complicated). She sees you as hers and doesn't want anyone to approach you. Hera will be relentless and will curse anyone. From a human to a god/goddess.

Most Gods would not be willing to share a romantic reader. They are gods, anon, so they are arrogant and selfish. They don't care who the reader is, it can be a human to a god/goddess, they won't want to share.

But there are some gods who wouldn't mind sharing. Like Dionysus, Aphrodite and Eris. To me, these gods wouldn't mind sharing a romantic reader. Maybe they like polygamy or maybe they just want a good excuse to kill someone for touching what is theirs. Anyway, they would share, but only if it's a human or a minor god/goddess.

Now if two gods want the same darling, that's going to cause trouble. As stated before, it will vary from each god, but most are unwilling to share the reader. Disputes will ensue and conflicts can cause a series of misunderstandings between not only the two gods involved but between the others. You see, Hades and Persephone are willing to share with each other, they are a couple and don't mind sharing a dear one between them. Zeus and Hera, with much resentment and bitterness, will be able to share with each other. Apollo and Artemis, they can agree to share, since they are twins, but there can be fights between the sibiling's still. Ares and Aphrodite... They won't share each other. No matter what anyone thinks, Aphrodite likes the attention but she won't share her sweetheart with another god, especially if he's (ex?) her lover. Ares is extremely possessive and will not share the reader with anyone romantically, no matter who they are.

But I will use two gods, Apollo and Eros, as an example. Since I got a request I'm currently writing about them, a poly. Apollo and Eros will not share. They are petty and selfish, possessive if you prefer. They have a very old rivalry and if the two gods are interested in the reader, well... I'm sorry but your feelings will be disregarded and ignored, the reader would just become a prize. A prize they want, nothing more than a trophy that whoever wins it will boast about the other.

Summarizing that part of the romantic. Others are unlikely to share, they are more likely to share if they have been related to each other in some way. Like Hades and Persephone. But if they are rivals or have some resentment towards the other god the answer is no. However, this is complicated, Zeus and Hera have a strong resentment, because of the infidelities, but they can share. But this will be painful for the reader.

Now, if you're a platonic yandere, the gods will be more willing to share. Except Hera. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you are hers. You are her child and hers alone. She won't let anyone near you. Mainly Zeus. She won't allow him to stain you in any way. But is it if Zeus obsesses over the reader platonically too? Hera, in that case, would be more willing to allow him to act as her father. But only in that case.

Because you are a child, the gods will be kinder and more tolerant of you. To them you are fragile and must be protected, but make no mistake, they are still gods and you must be very careful around them. If two or more gods have become obsessed with you and act like your parents, there will be fights over your attention and preference, but all these fights will be far from the reader. They don't want you to see them fighting.

The answer is yes. In a platonic way they are rather more inclined to share.

This turned out to be longer than I expected lol, but I hope you like it. I'm having a great day yes anon, how about you? I am on my school break this week so I spend most of the day sleeping and awake at night time. I'll be happy to read your thoughts on what you think of this, whether you agree or not 😛

~ Lady L

#ask #yandere greek gods #yandere greek mythology #yandere greek gods concept #🌓 anon

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harrietvane · 1 year

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i am very ~intrigued~ by 1899 but i'm trying to decide whether the emotional devastation of not getting a satisfying ending will outweigh the joy of watching the show itself. do you think it's worth it to start it knowing it (probably) won't ever be finished?

Oof, this is a tough one - it depends on your own metric for emotional devastation, I think? Biggest YMMV in the world. Let me try and paint a picture without too many spoilers..

So, for me, while i was very annoyed at no renewal, but i wouldn't say i was the specific kind of devastated you get at an overt and unresolved network TV 'who got shot' cliffhanger? Like, spoiler-free, it does end in the way a serial story 'ends' with a Holy Shit What's Next, and not in the way a movie 'ends' with a sunset ride or whatever: it's an explicit set-up for anticipated future activity (which we'll not now ever see), HOWEVER my own feelings towards it have allowed me to start a rewatch, as opposed to rage-quitting. In my mind, any of the things i hoped for in Season 2 or 3 are still on the table, in a strange way. They won't be shown to me visually, but they're not prevented by the narrative as it exists now, and where/how it stopped. They're just out there, in the ether. I have no need for fix-it fic for the way it ended, but rather 'what-next-fic'.

It's not a spoiler to say it's sci-fi, rather than just a costume drama, but I feel it has things in common with the way Westworld HBO used to end its seasons - they were always flexible enough to act as series finales if needed. Like, they would always end on a note of 'Gasp! and what NEXT!', but also if they happened to get cancelled and stop there at the point of Dolores gaining sentience, or the hosts escaping the park, even though you'd still be hanging out for 'but goddamn i WANT to know what next', and yet it would kind of feel resolved in a way also? Something had still been achieved in each season finale, and the next season set up was laid before you, on a note of 'now what??'

Idk, I never fully watched Lost, but I feel like people got into that show in 2 ways: some folks were obsessed with the puzzle, and had to know The Exact Meaning of each weird thing and needed Answers and a sense of Guessing And Winning to feel satisfied in the show. Other folks simply became fixated on the personal dynamics, and really commited to how each characater gradually revealed more about the kind of person they were, and how they relate to each other within the specific weird boundaries of the story. You'll enjoy 1899 if you're along for the ride re: the second type, but if you're the first type, and have to Know, and value things like 'canon', it'll bug you, probably.

Like, this is possibly my own tendency to make lemonade out of shitty, bitter, network cancellation lemons, but i approach it as one very long Twilight Zone story - it ends in a way that is an Unresolved Resolution. Something was ultimately achieved, and then gently set down without following on. Like short story chock full of 'what ifs and what nexts', it presents them to you, but ultimately leaves them unexplored in full.

In this show, Hercule Poirot is never going to come out and explain it all to our full satisfaction, but if Rod Serling came out and and said 'wow did you see that! that was messed up! anyway, this has been the Twilight Zone', that wouldn't be out of place. It Ends without ending.

#replies #queenofattolia #1899

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paperbooart · 2 years

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hiii omg its so nice to see another person who likes togiri!! there is sooo little content of it its honestly devastating lol….id be rly interested to hear if you had any spare thoughts or hcs abt them (or naegirigami) :3 also your art is phenominal, i love your style and the way you portray everyone is soooo ….<333!

HEEHE THANK YOU boy do i have thoughts about probably most things relating to dr1

this is going under a readmore because oh my god

togiri is so interesting to me because like.. of course naegiri was the first ship to grow on me, how can it not, and naegami is also just kind of like. an obvious decision to me. like pairing a normal nice functional cheerful little dude with a cold unfeeling weirdo who he hangs out with a lot just works every time. it’s about the CONTRAST. so when i started liking naegirigami it was definitely mostly because i just liked both makoto ships, but eventually i really started thinking about byakuya and kyoko.

i think the first togiri thing i really thought about was, weirdly, the moment i think they were at their worst, which was when kyoko got makoto executed. like when i rewatch that trial, especially the anime version, the amount of hands byakuya throws because he completely refuses to believe makoto is the murderer meanwhile kyoko has to keep pushing that he is… on the one hand byakuya is half right and if he’s wrong he’ll die. so him defending makoto you can fully read as him doing whatever he thinks he has to in order to survive. but the fact is makoto and kyoko both had large windows of time during which they were unaccounted for, but byakuya suspected kyoko from the beginning.

byakuya in the later chapters is so interesting to me even though his character development is so subtle i sometimes feel insane pointing it out. but it is extremely sad that he makes his big ‘i’m not going to play the game anymore i’m going to work with everyone to get out of here and kill the mastermind’ announcement in chapter 4 after being forced to reevaluate everything, and then immediately he is thrown into a situation where he has to distrust the others once again.

the fact that he is so angry at kyoko for refusing to explain what she’s doing all the time by herself, and seemingly refuse to disclose her talent, is because he wants to trust her. but he can’t. and then him lashing out at kyoko and taking her room key is what ends up allowing her to pass the guilty verdict off to makoto since she can claim she couldn’t get in her room. byakuya what have you wrought.

anyway so i mostly think chapter 5 was a naegami win, but i started thinking about like. the time between makoto falling into the abyss and kyoko following him. i cannot remember if i read a fic like this already but like…i imagine kyoko goes to talk to byakuya before she leaves. she knows if she and makoto both end up dead, byakuya is kind of the group’s leader in their absence, so she might want to let him know.

so here’s the question. does byakuya, still confused and bitter about having to vote for someone he didn’t believe would kill anyone, give a shit that kyoko might be about to die? i think on the outside he has nothing to say to her at this point, but on the inside he’s started to realize he does care about these people and he doesn’t want to lose another one. but the possibility of getting makoto back means he won’t do anything to stop her.

so what i’m saying is. it’s because of makoto’s execution that byakuya hates kyoko the most he ever does, but it’s also because of losing makoto that he realizes he doesn’t want to lose kyoko either, even when he still can’t trust her.

UM on a lighter note togiri is fun because sometimes byakuya is very stupid and kyoko is like how do you still think that you’re as smart as me? what is wrong with your brain you foolish man? and kyoko is wayyy better at hiding her emotions and never outwardly reacting to things than byakuya is. like imagine them doing anything together in a casual setting.

like you know the school mode dialogue where byakuya doesn’t know what the toy vending machine is and demands makoto explain it to him? that’s adorable but imagine the togiri version of that. byakuya (understandably) kind of views makoto like a golden retriever, like he’s not trying to keep his guard up around him because he cannot imagine makoto posing a threat. but he absolutely can imagine kyoko posing a threat, whether to his life or his dignity. so if he’s ever in a situation with kyoko where he has to ask her to explain some commoner thing to him, he’s trying way harder to act calm and collected about it, but she sees RIGHT through him because he’s a dummy who thinks he can have a facade up around a detective.

so i think from byakuya’s side of things togiri is about him learning to trust kyoko and learning that she is kinder than she lets on (even if she will make fun of him, more than makoto would, for not knowing basic shit, she’ll still explain things to him and not embarrass him too much because she doesn’t actually enjoy making people feel dumb) and he can start to let his guard down around her even when her being smarter than him AND having her emotional shit together better is frightening to his weird rich brain.

from kyoko’s side i think byakuya interests her for the same reasons i think he’s interesting as a character. his actions are absolutely batshit sometimes, but in a twisted way they do make sense. he’s a weird rude mystery. but boy does kyoko enjoy a mystery. byakuya’s not going to just tell her his backstory like he does to makoto, again makoto is basically a therapy dog, so kyoko has to start figuring him out. during the killing game figuring out this one weirdo’s motivations is not her highest priority, but i think afterwards when they start working together and she has to have a strong understanding of who’s on her side, she would start questioning him the same way he questioned her during the game. and like before but flipped around, this is happening because she wants to be able to trust him. (if you think i’m implying from this series of events that byakuya starts to fall for kyoko long before she is interested in him at all: you are correct.)

and i think kyoko, once she starts to trust him, does appreciate a lot of byakuya’s qualities, like the fact he is so sure of himself nearly all the time. again, i think byakuya’s not as good at faking anything as kyoko. i think his arrogance is real and most of what he says is exactly how he feels. (MOST of it. obviously he has his funny obvious tsundere ass moments occasionally.) meanwhile kyoko has to fake her confidence constantly. my interpretation of her character is she isn’t very socially outgoing, so combined with her severe amnesia, literally her confidence in her abilities being erased from her mind, that’s why she needs makoto to help carry the trials during the killing game. she is always calm but she is always hiding. she has to fake the confidence that byakuya was born with. so what i’m saying is byakuya is the one to be like ‘excuse me she asked for no pickles’

another potential area i wanna think about re: togiri is just the topic of their families, particularly their fathers, but also their family legacies that they both carry. kyoko is the detective her father didn’t want to be. byakuya is the heir who fought and won his place just like his father. kyoko was abandoned because her father didn’t want to be part of the chain and she resents him for it. byakuya went through a situation that was in his mind comparable to the killing game because he wanted so badly to be the next link in the chain. kyoko came to hope’s peak to see her father again and found him dead, and byakuya came to hope’s peak as his family’s representative and then was told he was the last one living.

so um yeah i’m just gonna stop here i think that’s most of my thoughts currently this was..a lot LOL thank you for giving me an excuse to ramble

#togiri #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #byakuya togami #kyoko kirigiri #analysis #ask #amaiuh

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sewercentipede · 11 months

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I feel you about feeling hate for your own nose. I have had kids tell me my nose is big, or that it is skinny or one told me my nose looked funny... I was in shock I actually have not had anyone comment till I was 30, it probably just sticks because i am so insecure about it (I was always told I was beautiful growing up, and got a lot of unwanted attention for it which I didn't like, also don't like being body shamed...) I actually reported the school that had kids insulting my nose; one of the teacher's was flat up abusive towards the kids (and violating my boundaries, like clawing my shoulder to tell me it was time to break me, and teacher's snapping at and degrading me, just worst school I have helped at, they were only preschoolers...) and already have their innocence being stripped because kids who bully so little, in my experience, do not feel respected by adults so they were probably just going after my nose, not knowing me, a product of their environment/I still care about kids even if they are mean but DAMN. That shit hurt/gave me so much anxiety. I was pms-sing severely I teared up in the bathroom but then did affirm myself, like honestly we are conditioned to care.

I had sweet radfems prior say "yea your nose is big but that doesn't mean its not attractive" like not that looks matter but its nice that women acknowledge it because like its a misogyny thing imho... There are plenty of famous men who are considered good looking and they have big noses... I think its a sexist double standard... But anyway, had I not had a prior meltdown over how much it bugs me (I have body dysmorphia,) I at least could make some peace with it, otherwise holy shit...

Its hard because I get it from my mother. and my mother was abusive af and I also hate that I look like her.

oh my god what an awful situation all around with those kids being treated like that and conditioned to keep that cycle of abuse going at such a young age when they’re just sponges for their environment that’s so sad </3. And like there’s something uniquely awful and cutting about hearing those kinds of comments from kids so young

it’s always the negative comments that stick hardest too

the relationship society forces girls and women to have with our appearance makes me so fucking angry and bitter. none of us deserve to be made to feel grief and baggage and self-criticism and pathology and self-alienation over the way we look. it’s so fucked up.

i don’t know if I’ll ever really make peace with it myself and maybe you won’t make peace with it for yourself but i want to at least allow myself to exist with the discomfort without giving in to the pressure of beauty standards to change my appearance. like maybe that’s enough.

I think the fact that you are even thinking about all this and that you wish you liked your nose and want to make peace with your insecurity over it, is something to celebrate and be proud of. i think that’s already a win and like already a really wonderful gift that you’re even trying to love all the parts of yourself whether ur successful all the time or not

and I think like if I don’t let myself exist as I am and if I did get plastic surgery - I’m doing a huge disservice to all the other girls and women in the world who have noses like me and i don’t think I could live with myself about that.

part of it for me is also the fact that my nose is tied to my ethnicity and my maternal grandfather, and nose jobs are a HUGE thing in iran/among Persians both in and out of iran due to very specifically western-European beauty standards and so it’s a form of erasing our heritage. and I’d really like not to do that to myself or contribute to that trend. maybe it’d help to think about it not so much as your moms nose but the noses of the people in your family that came before her instead, maybe it is also tied to your ethnic heritage too, or maybe there’s someone admirable in your ancestry that you could think of as your nose being your connection to them <3

god bless you sister and your beautiful unique nose <3

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interlvgos · 2 years

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Oh I wanna hug and slap George already.

Okay. So. Lewis's number 9 (oops, 8) in 2023 means that 2022 happened the way it did, which means that they did struggle together and. Ok no wait let me. Oh oh oh okay look we know that George has been higher in the standing in 2022 with the horrible car, right. But we also know that that's mostly down to Lewis's sacrafices in terms of letting them do the experimenting on his car during the first half of the season, plus the general amount of bad luck. So it's not really saying all that much. But still, enough people out there are now thinking that with a great car the title fight would be between George and Lewis and George now has his Mr. consistency reputation.

What if, in the tp au, the 23' fight isn't Lewis vs George (knowing that Lewis wins that dwc) but Lewis vs Max or Charles or both. Or all three. Meaning that George only really comes close to winning when Lewis is gone. So that hurts. Or even if George vs Lewis was a part of it, it still wouldn't have been enough. And George thought he'd be okay with that! Because it's Lewis, so no shame in losing. And he never wanted to be that kind of teammate who's bitter. But then again that is the nature of the sport and they are competitors and they did have the same car and George thought he'd stand a chance against Lewis in a fair fight, but it turns out that ultimately he didn't, not enough to best him -- So that makes the legacy painful, yeah??

And then, 2024, with Lewis gone, he still doesn't win, even though now he feels or everyone feeld that he really should have. You said Max wins? PARALLES??? Tell me it's fraud number 3.

But god, none of that is on Lewis. It doesn't make sense to blame him and it's so unfair but George doesn't deal well with everything, he's just not okay, he can't help it, it's just how he feels, resentful, bitter, frustrated, cynical, whatever - when really he's just angry with himself.

IT'S SO GOOD. IT'S NOT OKAY, IT'S SO TOXIC, BUT SO GOOD. Because how is Lewis supposed to handle that, right? None of what George might throw at him is something he's actually at fault for. But will he be able to be level headed about it? When he sees history repeating with yet another person who meant the world to him turning against him because of his success? You know?? But also - does he allow George too much, maybe, because on the one hand he is his boss now but on the other hand he is his boss now and he doesn't want to pull rank and make things worse, he doesn't want to let his own emotions compromise him??

Ok I could go on but I think I'm being incoherent af so I won't, for now, but yeah can you tell I'm excited

ANON <3333333333333333333 i love u. over and over again. incredibly lengthy reply under the cut and also a tiny sneak peak of chap one:

george isn't in contention for the WDC in 2023, but he's definitely up there and aligned with what people expect from mercedes. He's got a decent car behind him and he's got raw talent, everyone knows he does, but lewis is still lewis and george still has so much to learn.

And he doesn't compare himself to Lewis, because he's the first to tell you lewis is the GOAT - i mean, that's canon anyway LMAO - but he just so desperately wants to prove to lewis that he's got what it takes, that he's worthy of the mantel lewis is inevitably thinking about handing over, and that mercedes is in his safe hands when he's gone.

i don't want to reveal too much, but i can say george comes very very close in 2024 to beating max and it's by his own volition that he doesn't. and everyone had expected him to, george and mercedes and the fans and fuck, his performance has been so dominating in a way nobody expected from him necessarily to happen so soon, but lewis left and george had the heavy weight of mercedes' expectations dumped on him that he had no choice but to step up, to be better, and so he does.

but it still isn't enough. he doesn't win the WDC, and at the end of it all it doesn't matter how close he comes, he doesn't win. he bottles it when it mattered most and it's something a lot of fans don't forgive him for, because it's nobody's fault but his own. there's no car worthy of blame, this time, it's all on george and he suffers the consequences for it.

and it sucks him down, pulls him under and doesn't let him back up for air, the disappointment he knows he's caused evident in the way people look at him, how they speak to him, how his team keep him far away from social media in the weeks after Abu Dhabi. his safety net with lewis is gone, along with the man himself, and george is so alone with it all that it consumes him, forces himself to put up walls he's never had to before just to come through the other side with his soul intact.

he doesn't entirely succeed.

but you're right, none of it is lewis' fault - lewis doesn't owe george anything, and george knows that, somewhere in the depths of himself he knows lewis doesn't owe him a single thing but it's easier to resent him for leaving him all alone than to take a look at himself and take ownership for the choices he's made that's gotten him where he is.

but then lewis isn't not at fault entirely, either - he sees hints that george is struggling, not enough to solidify it for him, but enough that he has to actively ignore it to stop it from clawing at him. he sees it and he doesn't do anything, because they're not together anymore and it's not his problem - george isn't his problem - anymore. and if it keeps him up at night, if he can see the hollow look in george's eyes and the pretty porcelain of his smile so painfully fake to all who know him when he shuts his eyes, well. nobody but him will know about it. he doesn't do anything not because he doesn't want to, but he doesn't think it's his place to, but george doesn't know that.

here's a snippet from lewis' decision to rejoin merc as team principal, and you'll see what i mean:

"When he sees history repeating with yet another person who meant the world to him turning against him because of his success?" anonnnn this hurt so much!!!! because at it's centre this fic is a story of misunderstandings and trust breakdowns between two people who, at their core, still love one another so much but don't ever talk about it. lewis thinks george is turning against him because he can't deal with failing to follow in lewis' footsteps, and george thinks lewis left him all alone to deal with the pressure because he simply didn't care enough about him to stick around anymore.

IT IS... KINDA TOXIC ICL. but i hope it doesn't put anyone off, because it's so much more nuanced than that (but i totally get if it does lmao) and i hope it's an enjoyable read.

thank you so so so much for this ask, i couldn't believe it when i saw it in my inbox sjdnkjasn i'm SO glad you're excited about it cus i really am!!!!

#* ask.#* tp lewis au.#tw depression #just.... in case idk. discussions of george and his headspace which is categorically not in a good place which veer close to it #gewis

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drabbles-mc · 2 years

Text

Tagging Out (3)

Steve Murphy & OC Diego Ramírez

OC Diego Ramírez x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.9 The Very Noisy Night- Sleeping In Shifts

Part 1, Part 2

Warnings: language, smoking, angst, Bitchy Steve Murphy

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Every time I write for this universe I fall more and more in love with it lmao. This is a little bit of a diversion from the main plot because of whumptober. Think of it like a filler episode haha. I think that outside of his dynamic with Reader, Diego’s dynamic with Steve might be my favorite. I also can’t wait to eventually get into Reader’s dynamic with Connie. I have so many plans for all these little characters I love them so much.

Narcos/Diegoverse Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @garbinge @narcolini @mysun-n-stars @nessamc (If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

When they both received the assignment, neither of them was exactly excited about it. Diego was a little more gracious about it than Steve had been, but that was surprising to no one. Steve had enough pull to be able to be outwardly bitter. Diego was still fighting for his life just to be taken seriously at all, let alone have people care about how he felt about the divvying up of work.

The two of them were walking out to Steve's car. Diego could tell that Steve didn't want to be the one driving, but he also didn't want to ask Diego to drive either. He wondered how long it would take for it to feel like he was in a position where there was a way to win. Months of lose-lose scenarios were getting exhausting.

"Let's go." The way that Steve said it left Diego wondering if he was saying it more to Diego, or as a form of self-encouragement. Diego played it safe, electing to just give Steve a nod before climbing into the car, and settling down in the passenger seat. Steve wasn't looking at him as he slid the key into the ignition. "You've done this shit before, right?"

Diego's polite facade faltered for a moment as he registered what Steve had really just asked him. "A stakeout? Yea," his sarcasm broke through, "once or twice I think."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Just asking."

The part of Diego that was fed up wanted to snap and remind Steve that he's been in Colombia far longer, that Steve was essentially a glorified tourist if you stepped back and compared the two of them. But that wouldn't get him anywhere. It would just make matters worse, and he really couldn't afford that at this point.

"I'm new to your team, Agent Murphy," he chose his words carefully, "but I'm not new to police work."

Diego saw the shift in Steve's facial expression, but he didn't give the declaration a verbal response. Steve just continued to go through the motions, placing his hand on the back of Diego's headrest as he turned to reverse the car out of its spot. Bringing his hand back, he threw the car into drive with a little more force than necessary.

A majority of the drive passed in silence, which worked just fine for both Steve and Diego. Steve focused on the road, and Diego spent the drive rereading the files of the men they were supposed to be looking out for. The instructions for the stakeout were clear. It was just about gathering information. There was a very short list of people that the two of them were allowed to engage with, and that was if they even showed up. Diego briefly wondered if the list would've been longer if he was partnered with someone other than Steve, someone who stuck out just a little less. It wasn't worth thinking about too much— there was nothing to be done about it now.

"Where'd this lead come from anyway?" Diego asked, eyes still locked on the folder in his hands.

Steve turned and looked at Diego for a brief moment, not having expected the question. "Came from," he gestured vaguely, taking one hand off the wheel to do so, "one of Javi's informants."

"Hm." Diego nodded in acknowledgment.

"What?" The defensiveness in Steve's tone was impossible to miss.

"Nothing." Diego didn't miss a beat. "Was just wondering."

"Right." Steve's drawl always seemed thicker when he wasn't being genuine.

The building that they pulled up outside of was pretty unassuming, but that seemed to be the case with a lot of these places. That's why they had so much trouble tracking these guys down and bringing them in. Diego was taking in what he could of the building in front of him, the number of floors, the windows and doors that he could see, and what others he assumed would be built in. He was scribbling it all down in his notepad, not even aware of the fact that Steve was staring at him as he did so.

"Drawin' a fuckin' blueprint over there?"

"No," he didn't match Steve's sarcasm, "But no harm in having some of the specs."

"We don't even know if this is legit. Besides," for once his frustration didn't seem to be aimed at Diego as he said, "not like we're allowed to go in anyway."

"Unless something happens. And if it does," he set his pencil down and looked over at Steve, "I'd rather have some idea of what we're walking into. Wouldn't you?"

Steve knew that he couldn't lie and say no, but he wasn't ready to just start agreeing with the kid yet either. So instead he gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to looking out the window.

It was boring, the way that a majority of stakeouts were. The boredom seemed to increase with the knowledge that they were just there to vet the tip, not to go in and be hands-on in any real capacity. They didn't talk much. Steve snapped photos of some of the people coming and going, Diego was scribbling down names if he knew them, physical descriptions if he didn’t, along with the times they got there and the time they left.

For a while, the extent of their interactions was one of them asking the other, "You got them?" And the other responding, "Got 'em."

Diego knew that there was no way that Steve was this boring on stakeouts with Javier. He might still be that grumpy because being cooped up in a car for hours would do that to anyone. But they were friends, so they must have at least conversed. But, for as intermittently uncomfortable as his current situation was, Diego was still fairly certain it was preferable to being trapped in the car alone with Javier. If that had been the case, Diego might’ve gotten stuck walking home. Neither of the men were putting in any effort to be Diego’s friend, but Javi was a little colder, a little more brutal than Steve had been. All things considered, the universe had given Diego the lesser of two evils this time around.

"We're here all night, right?" Diego asked as the sun started to sink.

Steve nodded, eye pressed against the camera. "Yea. You got places to be?"

Diego bit back his sigh. "No. But we've been here all day already. No way we're both staying up the entire night, especially when there isn't anything going on."

"You can take a nap if you want."

"Murphy—"

The exasperation in Diego's voice sounded a little too familiar. Steve jerked his head to look at him, only to find Diego skimming over his notes. "Fine. Give it a couple hours. I'll grab coffee and take the first shift. Let you get your fuckin' beauty sleep."

Diego had to chuckle at that. He wasn’t really even tired yet, but he knew that eventually, they were going to be. He just nodded and went back to the task at hand. The silence between them felt a little less tense now, at least for Diego. Sometimes he wondered if Steve ever wasn't tense. Maybe that was an answer you'd be able to give him. Because sure, sometimes things felt a little more personal than they should, but Diego wasn't so self-pitying to think that it was all his fault all the time. Sometimes it just felt like that’s how Steve operated all the time. You knew Steve better, he'd have to remember to ask.

Steve went to get coffee, leaving his camera behind. He warned Diego not to break it if he had to use it in the couple minutes that he was gone. Diego promised it would all still be in one piece when Steve got back. Moments like that made him wish that reciprocating sarcasm would go over well.

When the driver's door opened again, Steve slid into his seat, a coffee cup in each hand. He set one into the cup holder closer to Diego, taking a sip from the one still clutched in his hand. He saw the questioning look on Diego's face and rolled his eyes, although it took real effort to not laugh or crack a smile.

"It's just coffee. It won’t bite."

Diego allowed himself to give a bit of an amused smile. “That’d be the last thing I need these days.”

Steve saw the way that his gaze kept flickering over to the coffee from his notepad. “You good?” he asked.

Diego’s eyes widened slightly as he looked over at Steve. "Yea, I just…” He paused. “Thanks. I wasn’t, you know,” he shrugged, not really finishing his sentence.

Steve frowned for a brief moment. None of those words really meant anything and yet Steve knew exactly what the kid was saying. “Right.” It sounded more genuine than the last time he’d said it. He wanted to have something more to say, but he knew that he’d backed himself into a bit of a corner with Diego, so he let it lie.

They both fell quiet again. Steve maneuvered the driver’s seat so that he could lean back a little while they waited for something else to happen. Diego was leaning back, eyes mostly closed as he wondered if it would be worth it to just drink the coffee and power through for a while, or take a quick fifteen and drink it when he woke up. While he was thinking about that, he could feel Steve looking at him. He was at the point where he didn’t even try to guess what anyone was thinking about him anymore.

“Please stop,” Diego said, his voice nice enough but the exhaustion was audible.

“What?” Steve wasn’t a good enough actor to pretend that he didn’t know exactly what Diego was talking about.

“Please stop staring,” he elaborated.

“I’m not--”

“We’re gonna be stuck together in this car for a while. If there’s something you wanna say, you should just say it.” He opened his eyes the rest of the way, turning and looking over at Steve. “It can’t be worse than anything else I’ve heard.”

Steve sucked in a deep breath. “Look, Ramírez, I’m not trying to--”

Diego didn’t mean to cut him off with a laugh, but it still worked out that way. He shook his head at Steve, “Don’t do that, Murphy, please.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend to be diplomatic now.” He sat a little more upright, any wish for going to sleep officially gone out the window with the smoke from Steve’s cigarette. “You’re better than that. Don’t lie. If you have an issue with me--”

“I don’t have a fuckin’ issue with you,” Steve sounded as indignant as ever, which did not help his case.

“Are you sure about that?” Diego didn’t sound angry, even though he had every right to be. He just sounded tired, and not just from being up late on a stakeout. “Because it seems like both you and your partner are waiting for me to tap out.” The words along with the rest of the CNP were on the tip of his tongue but he managed to hold them back.

“I’m not…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he tried to figure out exactly what it was that he wanted to say. It wasn’t that he wanted Diego to quit. Hell, they needed any and all help they could get given the state of everything. And, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Steve knew that the kid was good at his job. Aside from the…issues, with Carrillo, Diego didn’t have any real blemishes on his record. Flying colors in the academy, glowing reviews from any fucking officer in the CNP prior to a few months ago. And even then, no one could really say a bad thing about his work. But this wasn’t just about the work. Steve knew that. Diego knew that. Everyone knew that. From the second that Diego set foot in the building, it became just as much about everything else as it was about catching Escobar. That’s where the issues all bubbled up.

Steve didn’t want to say any of that out loud though. He knew how petulant it would sound. They were two grown men sitting on a stakeout trying to get information on some of the most wanted criminals in the world. The last thing that he should be thinking about saying was, “Yea well your girlfriend really hurt Carrillo’s feelings when she dumped him for you so now we all sort of have to hate you because we knew him first.” Because even if the phrasing came out more elegantly than that, that’s really what it was going to boil down to.

Diego saw it on Steve’s face that he was deep in thought. He shook his head, toying with the coffee cup that Steve had set in the cup holder for him. “You guys give her this hard of a time too?” They were already knee-deep in murky waters, so Diego figured that throwing the question out wasn’t going to make it worse.

“Who?” Steve asked.

Diego shot him a look of disbelief, like he couldn’t tell if Steve was being sarcastic or not. “What do you mean who?”

Steve’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh.” He shook his head. “Not…not really.”

Diego nodded, thinking back on all of his conversations with you over the last few months as everything began to change. Some things had become better, easier. Other things had gotten complicated when they really shouldn’t have been.

“Mhm.” He picked up the coffee and took a sip, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he was back in his own bed, preferably with you. The most anger that had been in his voice all night only came out when it came to you. “You guys just cut her out, right?”

Steve’s gut twisted with guilt at the question, but he wasn’t going to cop to that. “What,” he had half of his usual sarcasm intact, “you stay close with all of your friends’ exes then?”

Diego shrugged. “No. But,” he drummed his fingers on the cup, trying to figure out just how bold he was feeling, “who was really your friend in all of that?”

It was sort of a challenge, sort of an honest inquiry. He knew that it wasn’t as though you and Steve had hung out all the time, but you had been close with Connie by virtue of everything going on. You’d been friendly with Steve, and truthfully Diego found it hard to believe that Carrillo had been any kinder to the man than you had been.

“It’s not that simple,” Steve finally said.

Diego gave one slow nod. “Alright.”

Steve set his cup down in the cupholder. Without looking directly at him, he handed the camera over to Diego. “You take the first shift, then,” he said, leaning back in the seat and shutting his eyes.

Diego nodded even though it wasn’t like the man next to him was going to see it. He held the camera carefully in the hand that wasn’t holding onto his coffee. “That works.”

He set the coffee down, leaving just the camera and his notepad in his lap. He lightly tapped the end of his pencil on the pad of paper in front of him. He was no stranger to pulling all-nighters, but this didn’t feel quite like the others. It almost made him miss being fresh out of the academy and getting put on all the shifts that other more senior officers didn’t want to pick up. At least back then, the man sitting next to him in the patrol car was happy to have him there.

Before he could wallow too much, another pair of men started making their way up the steps of the building that they had been watching. The constant looking over their shoulders was a dead giveaway that they were people to watch. Diego lifted the camera, placing his eye to the viewfinder as he quickly tried to zoom in.

Steve’s eyes were still shut, hand tucked behind his head as he said, “Make sure the fuckin’ flash is off. You’ll get us shot.”

Diego frowned, feeling like that was a bit obvious, but he pulled the camera away to double-check. He huffed out a tiny laugh as he switched the flash off. “Thanks.”

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