#it's not too bad. just requires me to be Careful and try to contain the urge to Touch. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inbrightshadows · 11 months

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*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]

The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.

Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.

Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.

Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.

Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.

And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.

Then there's Leo.

In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.

Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.

He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.

And then Casey Jr gets sick.

It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.

It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.

There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.

Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’

Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.

It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.

But bad luck is bad luck.

Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.

“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.

Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.

The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.

The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.

Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.

And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.

So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.

When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.

“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.

“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.

Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.

Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.

That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.

The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.

He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.

He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.

His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.

All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.

On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.

“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?”

Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.

Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.

It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.

There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.

To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.

The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.

He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.

Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.

“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.

Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.

Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.

Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.

He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.

“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.

Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.

“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.

Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.

He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.

Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.

He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.

“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.

A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.

Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”

Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”

“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”

Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”

Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.

“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.

He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.

For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.

It’s gone.

Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility. Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.

“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.

Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.

The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.

He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.

“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears. “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.

“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”

Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.

There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.

He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.

Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.

Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.

“Bemused scoff.”

Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.

“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”

Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”

“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.

“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.

“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.

It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.

Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.

The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.

And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.

Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.

He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.

It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.

“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game, is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.

“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.

“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.” Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.

“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.

“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.

“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.

Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.

“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”

“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.

Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.

“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.

The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.

“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”

Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.

“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”

Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.

Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.

“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-” “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.

Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.

“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.

Mikey flees with a yelp. Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.

Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”

And Leo lies.

Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.

“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.

Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.

#rottmnt #Cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt future leo #I did not mean for this to be so long help #ahhhh i hope this is ok and doesn't come off as weird or anything #Originally it was just going to be Leo's family tricking him into holding the baby but then I got an Idea #and then the idea got Really Really big...#my writing

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writer-in-theory · 1 year

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berry sweet on your lips

TW: Period-typical homophobia, Some Internalized homophobia, Implied abuse (Steve's dad is a pos)

When Steve was seven, his Mama caught him in her makeup.

He was sitting up on the bathroom counter, sloppily drawn eyeliner over his eyelids and trying to apply bright cherry red lipstick to his lips without smearing. The application process required so much focus he hadn't realized when the front door opened downstairs, or when his mom called repeatedly for him to come down to dinner. He did hear the surprised little yelp from her though, and the sigh once she realized which eyeliner he'd accidentally broken.

"Honey, those aren't toys to play with." His Mama's voice was tight like she was barely containing her frustration at the lost products. Dad always made her upset, and Steve didn't want to add to it. So it didn't seem like a good time to correct her, that no, he wasn't trying to play. He'd seen how pretty makeup could make people, and he wanted it. He wanted to be pretty.

Instead, he sighed and nodded, hopping down from the counter. "Sorry, Mama."

"It's okay, baby, that stuff just isn't for kids to play with. C'mon, let's get you washed up and we can get some dinner."

It wasn't the last time he'd thought about makeup, though it took years until Steve found the courage to try again.

It happened when he was fourteen in Carol Perkins's basement. He, Tommy, and Carol spent most nights together anymore. The Perkins' always volunteered to babysit Steve when he was younger and his Mama started going on business trips with his dad, and they always let Tommy come over so he wouldn't be left out. That basement with its bright tie-dyed blankets scattered around and posters of every attractive celebrity you could imagine felt more like home than his own house.

Maybe that was why he felt so comfortable suggesting it in the first place.

"Ugh, I need more girl friends, honestly," Carol groaned, flopping back onto the pile of pillows and blankets she'd acquired.

"What now? We're not entertaining enough?" Tommy teased from where he and Steve were playing air hockey. Steve's knuckles were sure to bruise tomorrow from the speed with which they were knocking the puck at each other but they hadn't stopped laughing yet. "Need to go braid Tina's hair and talk about boys?"

"You're not boring," Carol clarified, "but it'd be nice to do someone's makeup and talk about boys every once in awhile. A girl needs some gossip."

Tommy laughed, so Steve laughed too because it seemed the right thing to do. But really...it didn't sound so bad, did it? So when the laughter died down, he spoke up. "You could put makeup on me, I don't care," Steve shrugged.

He did. He did care so much. Even the thought of it made his heart flutter, threatening to fly away at any second.

"Really?" Carol raise one eyebrow, sitting all the way up and twisting around to face him. "You'd let me put makeup on you? The whole thing, I don't do boring makeup."

"C'mon, man, don't let her do that to you," Tommy groaned, but Steve just shrugged again and abandoned the air hockey table, coming over to sit down on the floor with Carol.

"It washes off, right?" As if he hadn't known how easy it was to swipe off red lipstick, though it would always leave a deep tint to his lips like he'd been eating berries. "It can't hurt."

It at least made Carol happy, and seeing her smile as she rushed off to retrieve her makeup bag made Tommy's grumbles about ditching the game worth it.

And you know, it was fun. Carol was actually gentle, and seemed to know what she was doing. Steve had his eyes closed most of the time while she brushed powder and liner on them, as she swiped mascara on and tried to perfect whatever glamorous look she'd seen in her latest magazine. She did talk about boys too, all about which girl had crushes on each boy that they knew, and why Eric Thompson was the most crushed on boy in Hawkins Middle.

"Eric Thompson? Get a grip, Perkins, you can do so much better than him," Steve told her, laughing at her indignant shout.

"Seriously. The guy's a total meathead," Tommy called from where he was sprawled out across one of the couches, idly watching whatever movie the Perkins' decided to rent for the night.

"You're a total meathead," Carol shot back in return. "Not Stevie here, though. No, I think after I tell all the girls about what a good guy you are, you'll be the new king of Hawkins Middle."

"Screw Hawkins Middle, I better be king of Hawkins High for this," Steve laughed, only because he had no idea how to thank her for it. By the time he'd left the Perkins' house the next morning, the bright eyeshadow and tacky lip gloss had been washed away but the feeling of pure peace it had brought him persisted.

Steve hadn't dared try again, not until he was sixteen and saw a guy wearing nail polish. It was one of the Seniors, the one who wore all black and who the whole basketball team called The Freak. And maybe he was a freak, Steve didn't really ever have a reason to talk to him and find out, but the sight of the swath of black over his nails left Steve breathless.

"You taking photography this semester, Harrington?" The guy—something Munson, Steve thinks—asked when Steve hadn't stopped staring in the hallway.

"Huh?" Steve startled, looking down both sides of the hallway as if to check if any of his friends were seeing who he was talking to. "No?"

"Shame," Munson let out a little 'tsk' noise, the way Steve's dad always did when he was disappointed. "You could've taken a picture and made it last longer."

Oh, oh. Steve's face flushed red, and the second he saw a flash of another green and orange letterman he panicked. They would know, oh God they'd see him with The Freak and it would all be over, they would figure out that he wanted to paint his nails too and—

Steve wasn't proud of the words spoken after that. They lingered far after he'd said them, swirling in his head until it sounded a little more like his dad was repeating them over and over again, reminding Steve of just what kind of person he was to stay clear away from.

It was that guilt that finally convinced him to go to Melvald's, where the kind woman at the counter didn't question why he was buying the cheapest makeup products he could find. He didn't even know if any of it would look good together, he just knew he needed it. He needed a way to see himself like this before he messed up again where someone could see, where someone could figure him out.

And so began the careful ritual. Every night he'd rush home from practice, lock his bedroom door even though he knew his parents were away on another trip, and swipe the makeup over his eyes, cheeks, lips. He got better at it with every attempt, until the liner wasn't shaky and his lipstick didn't look like it had already been kissed off (and now, wasn't that a thought).

Except that was the trouble with secrets, wasn't it? They couldn't stay buried for long, not when Hawkins was so small and this felt so much larger than the town, than the state, than anything Steve had ever been apart of.

It was only a matter of time until his dad found out.

That night he'd been sloppy, unprepared for his parents to come home early. The light in the upstairs bathroom had gone out and instead of changing it he'd moved downstairs, where the lights had already been switched out to a cooler white that made it easier to see what colors he was painting his skin with.

Steve Harrington was pretty sure he would die that night, all over deep red lipstick and perfectly-drawn eyeliner.

He didn't know where he was running to, all he knew was that he couldn't stay in Loch Nora. He ran until he was near the edge of town, nothing but trees and the one road leading out surrounded him. Steve hadn't had his car keys on him, and there was no way he could go back for them without facing his dad's righteous anger. Steve let out a painful cry, finding nothing left to do but lay down on the pavement and stare at the stars. He was barely eighteen, no car, no money except whatever bills were stuffed in his pocket, no plan. Just himself and that damned red lipstick still lingering like berry-stained evidence on his lips.

He didn't move for anything. Not when the night grew chilly enough to freeze his joints and prick up goosebumps on his arms. Not when the rumble of an old car engine came roaring in the distance, or for the subsequent squeal of brakes and a loud horn.

"Shit, Harrington, I know you have air for a brain but what the fuck are you do—" The person cut themselves off, like from seeing the state of him. They'd probably hit him too, kick at him while he was down because why the fuck did he think he could get away with this shit in the middle of nowhere Indiana?

"Shit, Harrington," the voice hissed again, sounding as pained as Steve thought he should feel.

"Get on with it," Steve voiced, voice rough with tears and the violent yells his dad had hit out of him.

"Get on with what?"

Steve rolled his eyes, turning his head to meet Eddie Munson's gaze. He wondered if he still painted his nails. He wondered if it even mattered, because even Eddie Munson didn't do what Steve did. "I'm tired, man. If you're gonna get your revenge on me make it quick."

That startled Eddie, reminding Steve of just how expressive the guy was. It was almost humorous, the way his head reeled back and his eyes widened impossibly far.

"Get in the van, Harrington."

Right, if Eddie was gonna murder him he couldn't do it out in the open, not where anyone could be driving by.

So Steve picked himself up from the ground, not bothering to brush off his jeans before sliding into the passenger seat. They didn't talk the whole drive. No music played. They just sat in complete and total silence, punctuated only by the nervous taps of Eddie's hand on the steering wheel.

Eddie Munson must be stupider than he was. Most murderers wouldn't drive their victim to their own trailer before finishing the job. Though, Steve supposed all Eddie had to say was that he saw Steve Harrington wearing lipstick and it'd all be waved away. Upstanding citizen, that Eddie Munson was.

"Shower's back there, there's a first aid kit on the shelf," Eddie spoke, unable to stand still once they got inside the trailer.

And that, well that was just downright weird. Steve tilted his head to the side, eyeing the little hallway Eddie waved his hand at like it might jump at him. "What's happening?"

"What do you mean?" Eddie sounded tired, like he hadn't slept in weeks. Steve felt like he'd never slept at all, like he might never again.

"You...aren't you gonna...?"

"I mean, I could if you think you're gonna fall," Eddie said nervously, eyes also watching the hallway. "Just tryin' to protect your modesty, man."

"What?" Nothing was making sense, and Steve was beginning to wonder if maybe his head had hit the tile floor one too many times because this was supposed to be simple, cut and dry.

"Can you just go clean up, Harrington?"

"Why?"

"Because I hate seeing all that damn blood on you, okay?" Eddie snapped out, voice raising in pitch the more worked up he got. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I hate it."

Oh.

"You're not...you're not gonna...?" Steve repeated, including a lackluster air punch.

That seemed to make everything click in place for Eddie. He sucked in a breath and both hands flew to the top of his head, scraping through his unruly curls. "Shit, you think? Nah, man, I'm not a piece of shit like whoever did that to you. C'mon."

Eddie started walking down the hallway, and honestly this all felt so vaguely dreamlike Steve couldn't do anything but follow, wordlessly sitting on the toilet lid where Eddie waved for him to be. The other man was knelt between his legs, wiping off his face with a wet washcloth. His touch was gentle, experienced as he wiped away the blood and set to work rubbing antibiotic onto each open cut.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Steve whispered out, eyes focused on the barest hint of eyeliner on Eddie's eyes. The other man clearly wasn't wearing it to be pretty though. No, this was drawn on with intentional haste, and made Eddie look so fucking badass that Steve didn't know what to do about it. "I sucked in school. I was awful to you."

Eddie's hands didn't stop, brown eyes focused on Steve's lips as he wiped at the split in the lower one. He could see the breath hitch in the other man's chest though, a quick collapse of Eddie's chest before his breath restarted at a normal rhythm. "You did suck, but that doesn't mean you deserve this."

Steve didn't say anything else, couldn't really. Not when the lump in his throat grew until he was sure he would never be able to breathe again, and the tears began to spill without inhibition. And Eddie, well Eddie let him. He just kept patching him up, never saying anything, never berating him or looking disgusted by the tears. He just sat with Steve while he let it out, eyes looking to Steve's every so often as if to check he was okay.

"I think something's wrong with me." The whisper sounded so loud in the tiny bathroom, echoing around and around and smacking into Steve's chest repeatedly.

"No." It was the first time Eddie seemed bothered by anything Steve said all night, fingers gripping tightly around the corner of the counter he was holding to keep himself steady. "There's nothing wrong with you."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Eddie cut him off. He looked Steve right in the eyes, a kind of fire lighting up in those dark brown eyes of his. "Steve Harrington, there is nothing wrong or broken or shameful about you. So you like to wear makeup, lots of guys do."

"I've never met anyone who does."

"Because you're in Bumfuck, Indiana," Eddie continued on, never sounding more passionate than he did now. It was intense, sure, but Steve had longed for someone, anyone, to say what Eddie was now. And of course it was the guy with the painted nails he'd been enraptured by years before. "Just you wait, pretty boy, there's a whole world out there with people like us."

Like us. Like us.

"C'mon, you need some sleep. We can figure out the details in the morning."

"Wait...what?"

Eddie laughed a little, shattering the heavy moment with a burst of pure warmth. He stood up and offered a ringed hand out to help Steve up despite him not needing it. Eddie's hand was cold in his own, but it felt right there.

"Try to keep up, Harrington," he teased. "If you don't mind sharing a bed, you can stay here. Us freaks have to stick together, right?"

"I mean...your uncle won't...?"

"Nah, Wayne'll love pissin' Robert Harrington off," Eddie answered coolly, "And he's cool with...everything."

And despite Steve's skepticism, he was. Wayne Munson was pretty much the greatest support anyone could ever have. His face had flashed dangerously when Steve admitted what happened, saying the world had no place for men who hit their boys (Steve wondered only briefly why the topic seemed to pain Wayne so much). And living with Eddie Munson, well, it was great. The trailer was small and Eddie kicked in his sleep, but Eddie also smiled from the second he was awake and the no place had ever quite felt like home in the way the Munson trailer did.

And the next time Steve found the courage to sit and do his makeup, it came with bright smiles instead of that old, lingering fear.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #kinda #they'll get there #stranger things #steve x eddie #canon divergence #au no upside down #tw homophobia #tw implied abuse #jay writes in theory #this is totally unedited sorry you get it as is #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet

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kurogane2512 · 8 months

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Kinktober 2023 day 3

Bath/shower sex and mommy kink with....

Fem! reader. Also contains some edging and roleplay. This is pre Stellaron Cocolia, she is still the Supreme Guardian btw

Your best friend Bronya's mother was your long-time crush, you had met her countless times and she always treated you so kindly and lovingly, like a true mother. You never once thought she'd agree to date you but she did, and she seemed quite eager about it as if she had the same thoughts for a while. But still, you decided to keep your relationship a secret from others, especially Bronya.

"Oh my, Y/n~ Have you come to meet Bronya?" Cocolia chimed as you stood on her doorway early morning, a small smirk on her face.

"Ah- not really, I was just...." you trailed off with a blush making her chuckle and grab your wrist.

"She already went out for training but you came at a perfect time. Come in, there is some help I require~"

You nodded and she swiftly pulled you inside her house then you followed her as she went to her room followed by opening the door to the bathroom.

"I was going to take a bath, would you help me wash my back?"

"S-Sure!" you agreed almost instantly and she smiled then instructed you to wait inside the bathroom while she fetched her clothes and other bathing things. Your mind rushed through various scenarios at the sudden turn of events, but you were more than glad to indulge in them. Cocolia came in soon after with just a towel wrapped around her body and her soft blonde hair tied into a bun.

"Hmm...." she hummed and approached you before pressing her body against you, "Why don't you take off your own clothes too? They might get wet otherwise. And I'll wash you as well as a way to return the favor." She leaned near your ear to whisper, "You'll let your mommy take care of you, right?~"

You shuddered at her husky voice and warm breath brushing your ear, clealry getting aroused from her ministrations. But you found yourself removing your clothes with haste and standing in front of her with a reddened face. She grinned then suddenly pushed you against the wall of the shower booth, the movement making her towel drop from her body and her beautiful breasts on display for you.

"Wait, Cocolia— mhm!~"

She instantly pressed her lips on yours, preventing you from speaking anything. This wasn't how you thought things would go when she proposed for you to help her bath, but now you realize it couldn't be more obvious.

"Your timing to come here was too perfect....I wonder if you were already aware of Bronya's morning training today?~"

"....She told me last night when we were chatting."

"My~ Such an opportunistic girl, your Supreme Guardian is impressed. Now, as promised, I'll wash you up~"

"I thought I was supposed to wash you first?"

"Now now, don't care of the details too much~"

She turned on the shower and started kissing you feverishly, her hands softly cupped your face while yours were wrapped around her waist and slowly moving down to cup her ass. She felt your hands roaming on her body and smirked before releasing the kiss.

"How impatient you are....so eager early in the morning~"

"I believe you are the eager one here, mommy~"

Ah, you shouldn't have said that. A switch flipped in Cocolia now. She harshly turned you around pressed you into the wall while snaking her arm around your waist and placing kisses on your back. Your back arched then her hand travelled down between your thighs and touched your slit, you let out a low moan feeling her fingers play with your clit while her lips sucked on your shoulder to leave marks.

"Being a bad girl so early in the morning. Do you want your mommy to discipline you?~"

"Mhm....y-yes....aahn~"

"Hehe, there there~ Leave everything to your mommy~"

She bit down on your neck and sucked hard, drawing a surprised gasp from you as her teeth sunk in your skin. Her fingers were already rubbing your folds now and you felt them prod at your hole before being pushed inside. You moaned and arched forward more, trying to support yourself on the wall but the slipperiness from the shower made it difficult.

"So wet....even with the water, I can tell these are your own juices dripping down. My girl is so eager for me~"

"Yes, mommy! Please, I want you inside!"

"Shh shh~ No need to be so restless, your mommy knows when you want it~"

Your mind was becoming hazy now, her fingers scissored inside your spongy walls and thrusted with ease. She hit all your sensitive spots easily, as if she knew your insides like the back of her hand. Her tongue lapped up your ear before gently nibbling on the edge while her other hand pulled you closer to herself.

"I-I'm cumming, mommy! Please let me!~"

Your moans resounded in the bathroom and Cocolia relished every single noise you let out. She suddenly flipped you once again to make you face her and immediately kissed you while thrusting her fingers in quick successions now.

"What a good girl I have. Come on, release for your mommy now~"

That's all you wanted to hear. You threw your head back as you finally orgasmed, coating her hand with your slick. She pulled it out and licked off every single drop before smiling and softly kissing you.

"You'll do your mommy too, right?~"

Your eyes widened but you quickly nodded making her chuckle, "Come with me, I prepared something extra~"

She lead you out of the shower booth and made you stand beside the bath tub that was already filled with water, rose petals and a fragrant body wash. You climbed in together and she straddled your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck and lovingly gazing at you.

"This....did you already know I'd come?"

"Hehe~ No, I prepared this for myself earlier. But I get to share it with you now~"

You smiled at her and pulled her in to crash your lips on lips, engaging in a passionate and heated make out. Your lips glided over each other's with ease, your tongues intertwining in ecstasy. You felt her grind against your thigh, seeking her own release impatiently now.

"Come on, don't keep your mommy waiting~"

#kuro's kinktober #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #cocolia rand #hsr cocolia x reader #cocolia x reader #cocolia smut

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wheels-of-despair · 9 days

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Munson v. O'Donnell Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: It's 1986, and Eddie Munson's long high school career has come down to O'Donnell's final… and Evil Woman believing in him. Contains: Tears, comfort, lunch, confrontation, and a happy ending. Words: 2k A sort-of companion fic to Case of the Missing Eddie, but it's not required reading.

Eddie's not at the Hellfire table at lunch.

Or in his van.

This could only mean one thing: He's in the woods, because his final exam in O'Donnell's class did not go well.

With a quick look around to make sure you aren't being watched, you duck into the woods by way of the parking lot. You'll take the long way around to go undetected by any staff trying to catch students skipping the last few days of school.

Not that it matters, anyway. Everybody's just fucking around and killing time now that exams are over.

You traipse along the trail toward the picnic table where Eddie conducts business. And sometimes hides out at when things aren't going great. When you enter the clearing, you see him hunched over the table, his head resting on crossed arms and his face hidden by a mop of unruly hair.

"Hey," you announce your presence quietly before straddling the bench beside him. "You okay?"

He heaves a sigh so deep, it feels like he's expelled all the air from your lungs as well as his own.

You place a comforting hand on his back and lean your other elbow on the table.

"What happened?" you whisper.

"Take a wild guess," he grumbles, turning his head away from you.

He got his exam results, alright. You start rubbing slow circles on his back.

"How bad?"

"Fourteen."

"What?"

"Fourteen," he repeats.

"You got fourteen wrong?"

"Percent."

"Hm?"

"I got 14%."

"How the fuck did you get 14%?!" You regret your tone instantly.

"I don't fucking know!" His voice cracks, and so does your heart.

"Baby, we studied for that so hard, there's no way--"

"It doesn't fucking matter," he snaps, still facing away from you. "She humiliated me. 'Mr. Munson, congratulations on the lowest score I've ever had the displeasure to grade. It's a pity the girl who's been doing your homework couldn't take your exam for you, too.' Made everyone's day. Cemented my place as the dumbest fucking student to ever step foot in this shithole."

You shake with rage, clenching your fists in an effort to keep your hands still. You're going to kill them all.

"It doesn't fucking matter," he repeats, lifting his head for a moment. "I'm not going back. Fuck it. I quit." He crosses his arms and rests his head on them again, letting out a long sigh.

You watch him deflate and put a pin in your rage. He doesn't need you to go on a rampage right now. He needs you to be rational, and to fix this. Your killing spree can wait.

"Okay," you whisper, returning your hand to his back and leaning over to place a kiss on his shoulder. You wait a beat. "Do you still have the test?"

"Scantron."

"Do you have it?"

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a green and white ball, and drops the crumpled paper on the table without looking at you.

You straighten it out and look it over. Maybe he missed a question early on and was off by one line on the rest? No, there are exactly 50 things filled in. And they're filled in nice and dark, with the shiny new #2 pencil you'd given him that morning for luck. You studied this material with him for weeks. He knows this stuff. You'll have to take it to O'Donnell and investigate.

"You eat lunch?"

"Not hungry," he grumbles.

"You will be next period."

"What's the fucking point?" he spits.

"I'm going to see O'Donnell after school, we're gonna figure this out," you say calmly. His lunchbox is nowhere in sight, so you pull out your own and start arranging items on the table.

"Don't fucking bother."

"Shut up and eat your fucking lunch," you order.

He finally lifts his head and looks at you. His eyes are bloodshot. The tip of his nose is red. Eddie Munson tried so hard to to convince people he didn't care, but it was all bullshit. He was trying this year. He was really trying. You know, because you helped him study before every test. Even in the few classes you didn't share. He knew the material. And you weren't leaving school grounds until you cleared up this 14% bullshit.

"Look," you begin gently, closing your hand over his on the table. "I don't know what happened on exam day, but I know you did not get a fourteen. You worked so hard. I know you know this stuff. So we're gonna go see that old hag, and we're gonna figure this out." His eyes begin to water again. Your voice turns serious. "Or I'm gonna burn Hawkins High to the fucking ground, with all our records inside. Then we all get to start over."

The corner of his mouth twitches. There he is.

"C'mon, eat up. We need fuel if we're gonna go slay the O'Donnell Dragon."

He hesitates, so you lift a cookie to his mouth. Chocolate chip, baked by your mom; his favorite. He looks at it, then at you, and pouts.

"Eat it or wear it, Munson." You try to sound threatening, but your smile betrays you.

He leans forward and takes it with his teeth, eyes twinkling with mischief instead of tears now. It's a good start.

~ Three Hours Later ~

"You wanna wait outside?"

Eddie shakes his head. He's met you outside of Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom after the final bell, as instructed, and he's looking more nervous than he did the morning before taking the exam.

"Alright. C'mon."

You feel him trail behind you as you enter Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom. She's sitting at her desk with an open gradebook and a calculator. She's not even your teacher, why are you so nervous? Is this what Eddie had to deal with every day for... how many years?

"Mrs. O'Donnell?" you ask, summoning all your courage for Eddie.

"Yes?"

"We're here to discuss 14%."

"I don't think there's anything to discuss," she sniffs, pursing her lips and pushing her glasses further up her nose. She's waiting for you to state your case.

"He knows this. We made flash cards, I quizzed him every night. There's no way he scored that low."

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. Like you'd lie about fucking flash cards.

"Can I see the test, at least, so I can find out what he's having trouble with?"

Mrs. O'Donnell sighs and sifts through a pile of papers on her desk. "A or B?"

You look at Eddie's scantron sheet to find his version of the test, neatly printed right below his name. "A."

She hands you a copy of the A test.

You take the paper to a desk near the front of the room and lay the scantron sheet next to the test. Your eyes dart from each question to Eddie's filled-in scantron sheet… and become more puzzled with each correct answer.

You look at Eddie, who's leaning against the wall and staring at his shoes. Mrs. O'Donnell's attention has returned to her gradebook.

"Uh…" you chuckle awkwardly, bringing both the scantron and the test to her desk. "Could you take another look at this, please?"

She sighs and reaches for the papers, holding them on top of her gradebook. Her eyes begin to dart back and forth just like yours had. And then her brow furrows. She reaches for the scantron answer keys and compares them to Eddie's crumpled sheet. Her eyes bulge.

She looks up at Eddie, then back at the papers on her desk. She reaches for a red pen, hunches over, and marks furiously as she grades his test manually. Eddie takes a cautious step closer and holds his breath. This is it. His entire high school career has come down to this one exam.

A moment later, she punches a few numbers into her calculator, scribbles out the 14% on the crumpled sheet, and writes a new number. She circles it twice.

"Mr. Munson?" He tenses at the formality, looking like a deer in headlights a few steps behind you. She beckons him forward with a crook of her finger, and he creeps toward the desk and stands next to you.

She hands him his corrected scantron sheet, and he holds it so you can both see the number circled in red.

92%.

Both of your jaws drop. You look at the grade, and each other, and the grade again, and then finally, Mrs. O'Donnell.

"You had an A test that got mixed in with the B's somehow. I hate that we have to do different tests, but we've got so many sneaky little cheaters in here, administration requires at least two variations for exams. I don't know why my classroom aide didn't catch it, Tina is usually so attentive to detail."

Would that be Tina Thomas, the heir apparent to Chrissy Cunningham's reign as the Queen of Hawkins High? It would be awfully hard for poor Tina to lead the cheer team with broken legs.

"Does this mean I passed the class?" Eddie asks, interrupting O'Donnell's rambling and your violent thoughts.

"One second," she says, flipping to the page of her gradebook where Eddie's fate lies. You reach for his hand, and hold each other in white-knuckle grips while you watch Mrs. O'Donnell work. She uses a bottle of correction fluid to erase the 14%, blows it dry, and replaces it with 92%. Then she punches in a few numbers on her comically large calculator and writes new figures in her gradebook that you can't quite make out. You and Eddie cling to each other and wait on bated breath until she removes her glasses, places them on her desk, and looks up with a crooked smile.

"Congratulations, Mr. Munson, you've finally passed my class."

The whoop that follows can probably be heard in all of Roane County.

After a million thank-you's to both you and Mrs. O'Donnell, who was much nicer to him than usual - although you notice that she never actually apologized for embarrassing him - you finally get Eddie out of her classroom. You walk to the van with his arm around your shoulders, and yours wrapped around his middle.

"I'm gonna graduate. I'm really gonna fucking graduate." He's been grinning so hard for so long, his face probably hurts. "FINALLY!" he yells to the handful of students still lingering in the mostly-empty parking lot, who barely react. They're used to paying him no mind. "Oh man, Wayne's not gonna believe this."

"Think he's up yet?" you ask, looking up at your beaming partner with pride while he fishes his keys out of his pocket.

Eddie glances at his watch and frowns. "Nah, not for another hour, probably. I don't wanna wake him."

"Well, Mr. Munson," you grin, shifting so you're standing in front of him with your hands on his shoulders. "I happen to know an excellent way to kill an hour."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks, stepping closer, backing you up against the side of his van.

"Mhm," you hum, trailing your hands down his chest and stopping at his belt. You find your way beneath the hem of his shirt and trace the skin just above his jeans with your fingertips. "It's not every day a 14% gets turned into a 92%, even for a skilled Dungeon Master such as yourself." He shivers. "Seems like something that should be… celebrated."

He starts nodding, and doesn't stop until he opens the rear door. He uses both of his hands to grab your ass and push you inside when you purposely take too long getting in. You're on your back and laughing when he slams the door and pounces.

Eddie Munson was a very happy soon-to-be-graduate when he dropped you off at home half an hour later.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x evil woman

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triflesandparsnips · 6 months

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So I was, as per normal, thinking again about Stede just collapsing into the cabin-kiss, and like-- we talk a lot about how Stede had just killed a guy, he was maybe not in the best headspace for sexy times, but--

in looking around for a kiss gif (AS PER NORMAL), I saw this one too:

...and I've been wondering and wondering about that face, right? Stede's face. A bit silly, kind of the embodiment of "smiling helplessly", a phrase that sounds bad out of context but usually appears when someone is just absolutely delighted by the existence of something-- or someone-- doing something ridiculous and amazing...

And it occurred to me that: Stede went to hide in his room so he could freak out, right? He's used to hiding, or trying to hide, how he feels when it comes to the childhood trauma stuff. And he's used to literally hiding in his cabin unless/until someone approaches that he has to mask back up for-- we see that all the way back in the very first episode of season 1.

But that night? The person who approached was Ed.

And not there asking him to be 'the captain'. Not telling him to 'man up' about the killing thing. Not even asking him to be the Romantic Lead or the Lost Love Return'd, roles Stede had been eager and wanting to play but just. not right now.

It could've gone wrong. Stede didn't say "come in"-- he didn't say anything at all, just opened the door, maybe expecting-- god, what he's gotten before, every single other time his entire life--

And Ed... changes the script.

He doesn't step in, doesn't break Stede's boundary, doesn't ask for anything from Stede. He just wants to see if Stede's okay. And more than that: By providing his own feelings about killing his dad, he's letting Stede know that, for the record? Stede doesn't have to be okay.

So... so for maybe the first time that Stede can remember-- or at least maybe the first time we see on-screen-- Stede is hurting, and. And someone comes to comfort him.

No ulterior motives. No quid pro quo. No requirement that he feel one way or another, be this or that kind of person.

Someone-- no, not just someone, Ed, who knows Stede, who's seen him and understood him and could ask so much from Stede if he wanted to-- just sees that he's hurting, and wants to help.

And like-- have you ever felt that kind of kindness? It's heady enough when it's a stranger. But when it's someone you know, someone you care about, someone you trust (hope, pray that you can trust) to hold the delicate, vulnerable heart of you--

Fuck, okay, that face, that silly face, that face that says nothing but looks like it's about to cry and to laugh and it's heartbreak for the past that never felt that kind of comfort and wonder for the person who made it possible in the present and it all adds up to just smiling helplessly--

Listen.

They say that in musicals, songs happen when a character's feelings are too strong for mere dialogue to contain.

I say that in this moment, Stede's actions aren't because he's addled from the kill, but because his feelings-- what love can mean beyond "romance", what it does, what it gives, what it allows, what it makes possible-- rise up and over and wash his hands against Ed's jacket and twist them both to the wall, and then, and then--

just collapse him into that warm embrace, where all the hundred thousand words he could try to find to explain what this love feels like can, for a short while at least, be transmuted into a form that can say them all at once.

#our flag means death #our flag means death s2 #kisses #and how to feel about them

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intotheseas · 3 months

Note

But like. Ominis and Seb meeting MC's parents for the first time? Hear me out. Seb has nowhere to go for the summer months after the *ahem* incident in the catacomb. So MC offers both Ominis and sebby boi to stay with her for the summer. (Her parents are weird like she is)

Soooo I actually have almost this exact scene coming in a couple chapters in my fic "The Softest Magic", except without the incident and Vera only has her mother, who is the epitome of uber-caring trollmom lol. But I also want to explore how it might have been if Vera's father was alive, mess with some story points, and play around with present tense too, so here you go! Hope you don't mind that I wrote it with my MC and most of all I hope you like it! Please keep in mind I am new to writing so it definitely won't be perfect ahh and I may have run with the prompt a bit lot :) Read here on AO3 or below the break. 3,817 words.

Features: aged up characters (characters are 17), love triangle, but it's not a bad thing, they're just dancing around it trying to figure it out, hurt/comfort, healing, supportive parents doing what they do best, good parents, fluff, some liberties taken with canon (basically made Solomon an absolute arse), forgiveness.

Contains mentions of murder, violence/abuse, HL spoilers, implied teenage romance, small bit of underage drinking, cheese. Not beta read or proofread super thoroughly.

She’s sitting with him in the Room of Requirement, her thumb rubbing circles over the back of his hand. Sunlight beats down on them and it’s almost uncomfortable, too exposing. He’s bared his soul to her - both the brightest and darkest corners, and it’s taking Vera some effort to average the two. She keeps her eyes trained on his hand, not sure how to look him in the eye when he’s crying. Like it’s a little too much, like it’s a boundary they haven’t made the decision to cross yet.

Which is pretty weird, she thinks, since she saw him kill his uncle just a few weeks ago. Since they’ve shared countless nights together with Ominis, slumped over books, demolishing poachers, falling asleep on this very sofa. The thought shakes her from her weird paralysis and she thinks, fuck it, he needs help. He needs love.

“Come home with me this summer,” she says. “You and Ominis.” Vera meets his eyes, dead serious. “You need somewhere to go and my parents will be overenthusiastic hosts.”

He gives her a look, like he thinks this is a trick. He gives her that look a lot lately, ever since…well, ever since the catacombs. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything nice coming his way. Vera gets it, too. You don’t murder a family member, even in self-defence, and come out without some serious issues.

It’s evident in the way he folds into himself, like a child who’s been yelled at by his father. Vera wonders briefly, how often did Solomon yell at him like that? How often did he hit him? She knows Solomon fought to kill in the catacombs. It was either them or him.

His voice is quiet, meek. So unlike the brash and charming Sebastian she’s come to know and love over the past year. “You mean it?”

Vera pulls him into a hug. “What else would I do? Leave you both in that cottage without Anne? Ridiculous. You and Ominis can come back with me. My parents will love you.” She feels him stiffen in her arms. “And no, I won’t tell them what happened. That parts up to you.”

The wall behind them grates and shifts as Ominis crosses the door’s threshold. “I thought I might find you two here,” he says. His voice is soft, tentative, like he isn’t sure how to say the words, or if he should say them at all.

Vera releases Sebastian from her grasp and gets up, pulls Ominis close. Sebastian’s situation, from the Scriptorium to the catacombs, has traumatised him, too. His best friend, maybe more than that, slipping into the Dark Arts despite his most fervent warnings, careening down the road to hell paved entirely with obsession and good intentions. Despite all his apprehensions, he’s remained loyal to Sebastian until the bitter end. Vera loves Ominis for it. She loves them both.

“Hey Omi,” she says. “I was just telling Seb this, but come home with me this summer. Both of you. My parents are going to love you.” Ominis holds on to her like a life raft, like she’s the one thing keeping him afloat in the maelstrom of fucked-up their lives have become.

“You…you’re certain your parents would welcome two extra students?”

Vera laughs, despite the weird atmosphere. “I’m positive. They always wanted more kids, but Mum couldn’t. They’ll be thrilled to have you.” She leads Ominis to the sofa where Sebastian is still curled into himself, like an old piece of parchment. “I won't force you, but…if you both want to, I can send them an owl right now. What do you think?”

Ominis sits beside Sebastian, loops his arm around his back. “Sebastian? What do you think? I don’t particularly fancy the idea of spending the summer in Feldcroft…it’s too close to…everything. And my family isn’t even worth considering as an option.” Sebastian leans his head against his shoulder.

“If Vera thinks her parents won’t care…if I won’t be an imposition-”

“You won’t,” Vera insists.

“...then okay. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. You’re right, Ominis, the cottage isn’t an option. I don’t think I could bear being so close to…and if Anne comes back and doesn’t want to see me…” He hangs his head even lower, buries it in his hands. Ominis holds him, runs his fingers through his hair.

Vera walks over to the table in the middle of the room, scratches down a note.

Mum and Dad,

Mind if I bring two of my friends home for the summer? I’ve told you about them, Ominis and Sebastian? They’ve…had a rough year. We all have. I’m giving them all the care I can, but I think some hospitality done Bell style would do them good.

Love you and miss you lots, let me know,

Vera

An owl comes in through the open window, hops over to her. She affixes the letter to its leg and sends it off with a few pats.

She walks over to the sofa and drapes her arms over her two closest friends. Kisses the tops of their heads with all the tenderness she can muster. “I sent them an owl. I’m sure they’ll say yes. In the meantime…I know none of us are okay, but we have O.W.Ls in a month. We need to focus, and you both need to get your mind off of this.” She summons several books and rolls of parchment to the table in front of them.

They groan slightly, but pull books to their laps, their quiet murmurs filling the air. It’s a step, Vera thinks. On a very long staircase. But it’s a step.

Two days later, the Bell’s family owl, Button, swoops in through the Room of Requirement’s window, crash landing into the pile of books and parchment littering the table. He’s small and spotted, and terribly uncoordinated. Perfect in his imperfectness, as Vera’s mom likes to say. He hops excitedly on one foot, waits for Vera to untie the letter tied to his leg.

Vera,

Of course we don’t mind. Tell them they’re coming home. We can’t wait to meet them.

We love and miss you, too. Good luck with O.W.Ls! Can’t wait to see you!

Mum and Dad

“Well, it’s official,” Vera announces. “You two are coming home with me in a month. My parents say they can’t wait to meet you both.” The first genuine smile she’s seen in weeks graces Sebastian’s face. Ominis shoulders slump, his expression relieved, and her heart feels a little lighter. This is closer to how it was before. It’ll never be normal again, she knows, but they’ll find a new normal.

A month passes, and day by day, step by step, they find their way toward something resembling peace. The relentless studying helps, takes their mind off of the existential horror of death and loss and replaces it with the existential horror of their futures. A better direction to look in, Vera thinks.

Their O.W.Ls pass without incident. Vera knows she’s done terribly in History of Magic, but failing that O.W.L is basically a rite of passage for every fifth-year, anyway. They’re all exhausted for a different reason now, a reason that feels earned. Like their naps on the plush sofa in the Room of Requirement are borne out of hard work, not a desire to escape consciousness.

And all too soon, they’re met with the scarlet train that will take them home. “Home,” Vera reminds them. “You’re coming home.” The train ride is both reflective and jumpy, an anxious energy buzzing all over the compartment. Flashes of blue skies and green fields fly by their field of vision as the train picks up speed and takes them away. Away from where it happened, away from all the daily reminders. And maybe she’s imagining it, but every metre they travel, the load feels a little less horrifying. It’ll never be gone, not completely, but like water smoothing a stone, time makes everything feel lighter.

Sebastian’s all nerves, drumming his fingers restlessly on his leg. Vera can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes, already knows what he’s thinking. He wonders if he deserves this, if he’ll fuck this up, too. Thinks he might dare to hope a little.

Ominis is a pool of outward calm, like usual. Vera knows better, of course. Knows he’s concerned about Sebastian, concerned about making a good first impression on her parents.

She’s nervous, too. Nervous about the unspoken bonds between them all. She loves them both, probably as more than friends.

No, definitely as more than friends. She thinks they might feel the same way about her, but she thinks they feel that way about each other, too, and probably have for a long time. The entire year has been a nervous yet comforting dance, the steps marked by stolen glances, lingering touches, chaste kisses on the cheek, fingers interlaced, and too many “accidental” nights spent curled around each other in front of the fire to be accidental. Vera supposes it doesn’t need to be figured out right away, as long as they’re all content.

The smog and odour of London is overpowering as they step off the train and through Platform 9 ¾’s barrier. They’ve decided to floo straight home - no need to make her parents come all the way out here to collect them. A coffee shop nearby provides some sanctuary from the sensory overload, a cheery witch levitating several pots of coffee and tea waves to them over her shoulder as they duck in. “Back from Hogwarts, darlings? Floo point’s in the corner. You enjoy your vacations now!”

They wave back in thanks and cross over to the crackling fireplace. Vera’s voice rings out clearly. “Bell Residence, London!”

The vertigo-inducing, oddly squeezing sensation of floo travel is something Vera still hasn’t grown accustomed to, and she’s a little dizzy as they stumble into her kitchen. The pale yellows of the wallpaper and tablecloth deepen in the warm glow of the sun through the window. Her parents look up expectantly, happily.

Ava, her mother, still in her lime-green Healer robes, immediately stands and gathers them all into a surprisingly crushing hug. Her blonde hair’s in its usual bun and freckles dot across her face like stars as her eyes crinkle into an enormous smile. “Welcome home, loves,” she murmurs. “I’m so happy you’re all here. I’m Ava, and this,” she points over to the man at the table, “is Riley.”

Riley rises from the table, taller than all of them. Vera peeks to the side at Ominis and Sebastian, sees them shrink back slightly and almost giggles. Her father looks imposing, but he’s even more of a dear than Ava. His ruddy cheeks emphasise his genuine smile, and his curly tawny hair falls in every direction. Vera hugs him tightly, and Riley grabs Sebastian and Ominis, brings them into the fold. “Welcome home,” he says. “All of you.”

Ava nearly dances around them, levitates their luggage with her wand and leads them down a long hallway toward another sun-soaked room. There are two guest beds set up, plush and feathery, with deep emerald green duvets resting on top. Vera’s bed rests to the left, her duvet a cheery yellow. “Afraid we don’t have a guest room, but this’ll do, right?” She winks, and her eyes dance with mischief. “I’m sure you’re all exhausted from the trip. Why don’t you all rest in here while Riley and I make dinner?” She steps lightly out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Vera sits on her bed, sinking into the thick duvet. “Well,” she says. “Those are my parents.” I promise Dad is a lot less imposing than he seems. He and Mom are really playful people. It’s just kind of how they show their love.”

Sebastian and Ominis sit, flanking her, their faces contemplative. They flop backwards, their hands finding each other by habit, fingers interlocking.

“I don’t know if I deserve this kindness,” Sebastian admits. His brow furrows as he gazes at the ceiling. Ominis leans his head against Vera’s shoulder, reaches with his other hand to place it atop Sebastian’s.

“Maybe it isn’t about deserving it,” Vera murmurs. “I mean, it’s happening anyway. The kindness. Trust me, my parents are going to treat you like you’re their own. And Mum has an uncanny sense with these things…you don’t have to tell her anything you don’t want to, but I think you’ll find she’s a lot more understanding than you’d think.”

Sebastian chews on her words, considers them slowly and thoughtfully. “It’s just…I feel like I’ve put enough bad into the world. Why should I accept any goodness?”

Ominis moves his hand to Sebastian’s shoulder and squeezes. “Because people are giving it to you,” he says. His tone is matter-of-fact. “It’s up to you whether you accept it. But if you’re asking me…I think you deserve some kindness.”

They stay like this for a while, thinking and reflecting. The air between them seems both impossibly vast yet precarious, like a single action could change everything. Eventually they doze, their proximity comforting each other.

Ava’s knuckles rap against the door. “Dinner!” she calls out. The three spring up, their reverie over.

Riley and Ava are at the table when they arrive. There are thick slices of bread Vera knows her mother baked this morning, topped with generous dollops of butter. Slices of cheddar cheese are nestled beside it, and bits of roasted meat and mashed potatoes send mouth-watering smells into the kitchen.

Her parents smile, tell them to sit down. The food is immaculate, and Vera senses both Sebastian and Ominis feeling more at ease with the lively chatter Ave and Riley curate. They talk about O.W.Ls, their Hogwarts houses, potential future careers, and all the gossip that Ava and Riley hear around St Mungos and the Ministry. The atmosphere is warm and familiar, and it isn’t long until the family’s pet kneazles are begging for scraps at their feet.

They end the night with a game of wizards chess, Riley insists he play with Sebastian. It’s a close game, but Riley booms with laughter when Sebastian finally checkmates him, the little chess pieces crumbling into bits and reassembling shortly after. “Seems like our daughter found a smart one,” he says approvingly. His eyes twinkle in that fatherly way, and it’s all for Sebastian.

Meanwhile, Ava, Ominis, and Vera indulge in a spirited discussion about healing magic. Ominis is ardently interested, shares his plans to become a Healer himself. Ava is over the moon hearing this, leans forward eagerly, wants to know everything Ominis thinks. Her attention’s all for him, like she knows he never had a mother to dote over him like he should have. She probably does know, Vera thinks. She just knows things sometimes, in her perceptive way. And Ominis soaks it up.

Ava and Riley retire to their bedroom shortly after. “Have fun tonight. Just don’t burn the flat down,” they wink. They crawl into bed together, a bubble of silence hanging between them before Ava pops it gleefully. “So, which one do you think fancies Vera?”

Riley hums. “Sebastian, maybe? But it’s hard to tell. They might both fancy her.” His face is thoughtful. “I hope it won’t end in heartbreak for them.”

Ava glances at him, surprised. “You think so? I think they all have a thing going. Sebastian and Ominis, too. They’re such a tight-knit little group.” She gazes at the ceiling, a smile dancing along her lips. “Well, as long as they’re happy. That’s all that matters to me. Times are certainly changing.” Riley murmurs in agreement, pulls his wife close.

“You’re right. As long as they’re happy. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

At the opposite end of the flat, Vera, Sebastian, and Ominis lay in their separate beds. Awkwardness hangs like a fog above them. No one’s sure how to dispel it.

“This is odd, right?” Ominis’ voice is quiet, a little unsure.

“No, it’s definitely weird,” Sebastian answers. “Vera?”

“Oh thank Merlin,” she sighs. “I thought you two were going to stay quiet all night. “Get over here, please.”

Sebastian and Ominis crawl under her duvet, and the three curl around each other like cats. Sleep takes them quickly.

The next morning, Ava and Riley peek in, and Ava lightly punches Riley’s shoulder as they quietly close the door. “I told you so!” she whispers, a wide grin overtaking her face.

Two months pass in a flash, and Ava and Riley lavish Ominis and Sebastian with affection every chance they get. Ava knows, of course, they’ve all been through something traumatic together, in that way that mothers often know. But she isn’t one to pry. Just to love.

And as this time passes, Sebastian and Ominis feel themselves heal, bit by bit. The wounds scab over, and the horrors of the previous year begin to feel more like bad memories, and less like recurring hellscapes. The pain dulls, and the hole ripped in their lives by the events in the catacombs is lined with wonderful memories, the edges becoming smoother, easier to bear.

They’re sitting at the table one night, lulled into comfortable camaraderie by copious amounts of butterbeer and firewhiskey. They finish their third game of wizards chess and a companionable silence settles over them. Sebastian’s eyes dart from Riley to Ava, then to Ominis and Vera. He takes their hands beneath the table and they squeeze back reassuringly.

“Ava, Riley…can I confess something?”

They nod, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Anything, love,” Ava reassures.

“My uncle died near the end of term. Just before O.W.Ls. Um..it was just me and my twin sister with him. Our parents died when we were kids. Uncle Solomon was…he wasn’t good to us. I mean, I guess he was okay to Anne…she reminded him of our mother. His sister. But he hated our father, and I take after him. He…well, we didn’t get along. There were times when he hit me, and there were times when I hit him back in self-defence. I…my twin was cursed, and I was desperate to find a cure for her, even when Solomon forbade me from doing so.”

Ava straightens in her chair, realisation dawning in her eyes. “Anne Sallow?” she asks.

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “Yes.”

“I remember her. We tried everything we could…it was difficult, seeing her like that. I would have liked for her to stay longer, but your uncle, he seemed determined to take care of her himself. Took her home against our advice.”

Sebastian’s eyes are glued to the wood grain of the table. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he says quietly. “I was so desperate to find a cure for her I went down some paths I shouldn’t have. And it made him angry. But…I couldn’t stop. Vera and Ominis tried to tell me the whole time I was going too far, but…I ignored them. I wasn’t always a good friend to them. But I needed to save her. She’s all I had left.”

Ominis and Vera scoot closer to Sebastian, wrap their arms around him. “We forgave you a long time ago,” Vera murmurs. Ominis nods.

Sebastian’s voice breaks as he continues, a hint of the terrified boy he was at the end of term creeping back in. “I did something I really shouldn’t have. I trifled with Dark Magic, with a relic I found mentioned in a spell book. I really thought it would cure Anne. And that was too much for Solomon. He attacked us, me, Vera, and Ominis. At first, I thought he was just trying to stop me from using the relic, but after he destroyed it, he continued attacking us. I…” His voice breaks again, and tears stream down his face. “I think he was going to kill me. And maybe even Vera and Ominis. He kept hurling fire at us and…and,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I killed him. It was either him, or me, Vera and Ominis. I chose us.”

He stares down at the table, not daring to look up.

Ava and Riley stare at each other, horror covering their faces. Vera observes them closely. She can see it isn’t horror at Sebastian, but his situation. The choices a young man felt he had to make. The path he went too far down. The tragic conclusion.

They close the distance between them and hug him simultaneously. Sebastian cries into Ava’s shoulder, both weightless and burdened. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “You’ve just been so nice to me and I…I regret it so much! I don’t know what I should have done instead. And now Anne is gone, and I don’t know where she is.”

Ava kneels down, meets his eyes. “Sebastian…this was too much for you to deal with alone. I’m sorry…I’m sorry you went through all this. Your sister, your uncle, your parents…no, it wasn’t the right idea to get involved in the Dark Arts, but I can understand why you felt you had to.”

He shivers in her arms. “I’ll never touch them again,” he sniffles.

“I know,” Ava soothes. “I know.” She looks at Riley. They communicate silently.

“You’re forgiven,” Riley murmurs. “And you’re always welcome here. That extends to you too, Ominis.”

Vera’s parents lean back and look at Sebastian. “And we won’t tell anyone,” Ava says. “In the wrong hands, this information could really get you in trouble, even though it was self-defence.”

Riley nods. “I’m sorry people weren’t there for you when they should have been.” He pats Ava’s and Ominis’ shoulders quickly. “I know my daughter and Ominis were, and I’m glad for it, but this isn’t a situation that should have fallen into the hands of teenagers.”

Healing is slow, and never linear, Vera thinks. But maybe this is a turning point for Sebastian. Maybe the acceptance and love he needed all along can help him get back on the right path, redeem himself in his own eyes.

A week later, Riley and Ava usher them toward the Hogwarts Express. Ava grips Sebastian and Ominis’ shoulders, her voice firm. “I expect to see you all home for Christmas and Easter, and I expect frequent letters. Okay?”

Ominis and Sebastian nod.

Ava continues. “And you treat each other well. And you two treat Vera well. And Vera, you treat them both well, understood?”

They flush crimson, but nod.

Riley and Ava hug them all, an all-encompassing embrace that feels like home. Vera hopes it feels like home for Sebastian and Ominis, too. After all, that’s what it’s become for them. Home.

#hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebinis

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morallygreyyn · 6 months

Text

DAY TWO: CHRISTMAS SHOPPING FIASCO

description: you, hisoka and illumi hit the mall in hopes of scoring the perfect christmas decorations...

authors note: posted a little later than i would've liked but here is part two! i'll somehow try to manage this series and asks at the same time...wish me luck...

warnings: destruction of property (minor)

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Since you had become friends with Illumi and Hisoka, you had been the designated driver. You had stupidly let Illumi drive you once, and that was a mistake you weren’t willing to repeat. You still vividly remember clinging onto the seatbelt as though your life had depended on it, and when that didn’t feel safe enough, eventually you had clung to Hisoka. A ridiculous arrangement really, Hisoka was safe under no circumstances.

So that led to you three now: you in the driver's seat, Illumi in the passengers, and Hisoka in the back, feet up on the divider that separated you from the Zoldyck assassin.

“So, tell me again, why are we en route to a place that is bound to be overrun with desperate shoppers?” Hisoka asked, nudging the gear stick with the heel of his shoe.

You swatted his foot back. “Remind you? This was your idea!”

“Not exactly.”

“Yes, because breaking into a shopping mall at the busiest time of year is a swell idea.”

“That’s why we break in at night.”

“While I am usually up for a bit of theft, dodging the law during Christmas time would give me a headache.” You sighed as you pulled into the queue of cars, every one of you trying to find an elusive parking space. “Illumi, can you find any available spaces?”

“Hmm, not that I can see.” He said as he scanned the area, pupil-less eyes seeing nothing of value. Illumi’s finger pressed against his lips as he thought before pointing upwards once he reached an idea. “We could drag a car out of a spot?”

“That’s not a bad shout.” You hummed thoughtfully, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

It wasn’t a difficult task having Illumi knock a car aside while you slipped into the now available space. You just hoped that you would be back in time to avoid running into the poor owners of their now crumpled car.

“Bring your wallet?” Hisoka grinned at Illumi as your trio began walking towards the shops, and the Zoldyck didn’t bother to answer. It was then that you were swiftly reminded that you three were still wearing the matching ugly sweaters Hisoka had bought you as every head turned in your direction. You folded your arms and met their stares. Honestly! It wasn’t that peculiar this time of year.

Luckily, you had plenty of options for Christmas decorations, although you weren’t the only ones looking to decorate their homes. One too many times did someone bump into you as you were perusing, only to be ‘tripped’ by Hisoka who had ‘accidentally’ stuck his leg out a bit too far. Not that you cared, it made room within the aisles as people very quickly learned that they would have to get through the three of you if they wanted anything that you were looking at.

“Right, I have decided on a tree.” You announced to the boys, pointing towards the largest one on display. Your apartment was big enough thanks to your job, and hey, you weren’t paying.

Hisoka knew exactly what you were thinking, and a wicked glint appeared in his eye as he smirked and looked towards Illumi. “Y/n wants that one.”

“I heard.” Illumi hoisted the box containing your new tree up, carrying it effortlessly as you went back to choose the decorations. Hisoka and you spared no expense when shoving every bauble and tinsel within reach into the cart, themes be damned. A big tree required a lot of decorations, and that was something you both took to heart. A lot of lights was also a must; if it wasn’t a fire hazard, was it even a Christmas tree?

Throwing in a lot of festive home decor for good measure, along with the blanket and candles Hisoka had promised you, your Christmas decoration shopping had come to a successful end. Illumi didn’t even flinch when presented with the total, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” You grinned as you began the walk back to your car to deposit the purchases before continuing. You still had groceries and presents to buy.

“Every day.” The eldest Zoldyck replied, voice betraying no hints of anything out of the ordinary.

“Countless times a day, in fact.” Hisoka chimed in, shoving the tree into the car before stepping aside to allow you to load the decorations.

“I can’t help it, Illumi is the one for me.”

“What about me?”

“You’re the only pain in my ass that I tolerate.”

“My heart won’t be still at your words.”

Locking your car once more, you then went into the supermarket, hoping to find enough food to feed your two giant friends for the month. You had been grocery shopping with the two before in the past, and it more often than not ended in a petty argument between you and Hisoka over frivolous things; the last one being over the colour of fish meat. Illumi had quietly finished your grocery shop just as you knocked Hisoka to the ground, resulting in the two of you being kicked out. A small misunderstanding.

“Right, I want to make this quick, we still have presents to buy and I don’t want any frozen food defrosting before I can bring it home.” You briefed your friends as you grabbed a cart, thinking over everything you needed to buy.

“Shouldn’t we start with present shopping instead?” Illumi asked, head tilting slightly as he looked at you.

“I don’t trust this one not to sneak away to peek at the presents while we’re in here, so no.” You jabbed your thumb in Hisoka’s direction, knowing him too well.

“Fair point.” The Zoldyck agreed as you began piling food together.

Thankfully, food shopping took very little time as you knew exactly what you needed. In fact, queuing for the checkout took longer.

“I’m bored of this.” Hisoka complained after twenty minutes of waiting, checking his nonexistent watch. “I have things to do.”

“We all have things to do.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “If you’re that desperate, you can both leave and meet me later once you’ve finished present shopping.”

“Bye.” Hisoka was kind enough to bid farewell before he turned and sauntered away, looking for all the world as though he was going to cause all kinds of trouble. Illumi also left, leaving you alone to finish and bring the food to the car. It looked as though the owners of the crumpled car had not come back yet, and you briefly wondered if you would manage to finish your entire trip before they did.

Now, what were you to buy Illumi and Hisoka for Christmas? There wasn’t anything they particularly needed, and anything they wanted could not be bought. Perhaps you should have kept your house renovation a secret.

With no plan or direction in mind, you wandered through the various shops, looking for a single spark of inspiration. In the end, you could only find hair clips for Illumi and a g string for Hisoka. Sighing in defeat, you began the walk of shame back to your car.

Yeah, you would definitely need to think more about what to get them.

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anamoon63 · 4 months

Note

Your TS3 gameplay really does inspire me to give that game another shot. Are there specific mods you use to make sure the game runs smoothly/is stable? What mods/cc are the best to use so the sims look good?

Hi, Marci! 😊

First of all, thank you very much for your ask. Knowing that my sims and/or my gameplay can inspire other simmers to play means a lot to me cause The Sims 3 is my favorite game in the whole Sims series. Plus, I love my sims, so this makes me twice as happy. 🤗💖

That said, it is my duty to warn you that The Sims 3 is not an easy game to maintain, it requires a lot of care and patience, even from the moment of its installation. You ask me what it takes to make it run smoothly and make it stable, well I'm no expert, but what helped me with that is all contained in this Steam post. I believe these tips you can follow even if you don't have your game on Steam. I followed all these steps when I reinstalled my game back in 2017-18, and I have never had a problem like lag or crashes since then.

It's thanks to the amazing person who wrote that post and to talented modders like @lazyduchess and Twallan (Nraas Mods), whose mods I consider indispensable, that I have been able to play The Sims 3 without problems for years now. I may have had a couple of crashes due to some wrong or corrupt cc, but that's on me because I download a lot of stuff. In those cases, it's a matter of locating the bad cc, taking it out, and that's it. The game runs great, even with a ton of mods installed. (I have a 9 GB mods folder, and I've had more than that at times, lol, but I try to keep in less than 10 GB always).

As for what mods and cc's to use to make the sims look good, well, that would depend on your taste, or as they say now, on the aesthetics of your game or your sims.

For what it's worth, I have always used Ephemera's E-WEAK skin as default. I also use some other Ephemera's like E-Skin Natural MIX, Asia and Fresh. I use some by Kurasoberina too.

I think Ephemera's site doesn't exist anymore, but the E-WEAK skins I use can be downloaded on MTS here. Kurasoberina TS3 skins you can find them here along with more of their fabulous content.

I'm sure there are other skins much newer, and super nice too, but these are the ones I use, cause they give my sims the look they are known for. 😊

Also I use Tifa N38 default eyes, as well as Buhudain's You Are Real body and face maps replacements to give some realism to my sims' skins/bodies. Neither Tifa's nor Buhudain's sites exist anymore, unfortunately, but you can still find Buhudain's archives on this SFS page. And those of Tifa in this other one in Mega. (I hope I am not doing wrong by sharing them, otherwise I will remove them).

There's also this stunning version of Buhudain's You are Real by @nectar-cellar named You are Hyperreal. :)

As for the rest, if I start listing all the other content I use such as hair, clothes and makeup I would never finish, I'd gladly share my whole mods folder, but I don't want to piss off the creators, or blow-up other players' computers, lol. I'm WCIF friendly, though, so feel free to ask for any specific content, of any type, CAS or Buy/Build, I got my custom content well documented, so I'll provide you with links to any of them.

For the time being, here is this link to my custom Content List on my Blogger. I have kept this list for many years, and I still use most of that content; it may be a little outdated of course, cause I have a lot of new stuff now, so my intention is to update the page soon when/if I have the time. Also, some of the links may not work anymore, if so just let me know and I'll fix them for you if I'm able.

I hope this answer has helped you. Sorry for taking so long to reply, but I wanted to make this post as detailed as possible. If you have any other questions about The Sims 3, I'll be here whenever you need me. Good luck and happy simming! 😉💗

#the sims 3 #ask me anything #sims 3 simblr #simblr ask #the sims 3 cc #ts3 cc

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blossoming-sun · 3 months

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So.... I made some pj mask AUs based off the prompt/trope people on pjmcord gave me (school au, angels and demons au, fae au)

School AU:

Premise: I know you probably meant just a normal school AU, but I'm actually incapable of writing something without fantasy elements, so its a school au: but they all still have their powers. In this au, the government knows about monsters and magic and stuff, and although the general population doesn't know about them, its not exactly "keep secret at all costs" information. So that nobody dies when the magical kids are too young to fully control their magic, they're kept seperated from ordinary kids in the education system until a certain age. So basically all the nighttime kids are in a class, and teacher is a new, human, teacher fresh out of uni and teaching his first class. These kids are a nightmare for him (/pos) and he struggles not to be killed every night.

Other stuff: There is a lot of drama between the villains and heroes, especially at lunch break. The main friend groups are the terrible trio and the pj trio, but the other characters have friend groups as well, and its not uncommon for everyone to just play nicely as one big group some nights and then all hate each other the next. The sidekicks do exist in this AU, but they're not allowed in the classroom because they're not students. This does not stop any of them: the ninjalinos sneak in to play with night ninja at break, Romeo is always making a machine of some sort, its very hard to keep moths out of the outdoor playground, octobella hides Percival in her bag, etc. The whole au would probably just be teacher being like: "Apophis, I'll put you in detention until the end of time if you try to trap bastet in a pyramid again!" "Kevin, don't put that in your mouth! No, I don't care what Howler dared you do to!" "Romeo, what did I say about stealing stuff from the maintenance room? You can't take over the world with the wifi router!"

Also, the heroes are monsters in this au, so owlette is a harpy, an yu has more dragon features, etc

Angels and Demons AU

Lore: Angels and demons usually hide which one they are, their wings and stuff can dissapear at will and they don't have to use their powers. Furthermore, its a contemporary!angels and demons au, so while everyone has angel or demon blood, some have the full features (horns, slitted pupils, angel wings, halos, etc) when they show their true forms, others merely contain some angel or demon blood and no affects from this (which is most common). There are also powers, which can be pretty much anything. Physical features aren't required to have powers, but they're usually hand in hand.

Other stuff: Amaya is the only one with wings and a few extra eyes, while connor has a halo, and greg has a few small feathers (not enough to fly with or form wings), but has the power of strength. The villains are all demons. Luna has wings, NN has horns (like an oni) and romeo hasn't shown his true form yet. However, Armadylan and An Yu are also demons! The PJs didn't trust armadylan at all at first because they're racist you can't trust demons, but after they met an yu, realised that maybe not all demons are bad and didn't choose to be like this. Also: pharaoh boy is a fallen angel, but bastet refuses to talk about what happened to make him lose his light. The rest of the power heroes are all angels. And for the characters I haven't talked about yet:

Wolfies: no features or powers, except their werewolf powers(werewolf blood dominated the demon genes)

Armadylan: 4 horns on his head that stick out from his helmet, as well as a tail beneath the armadillo tail on his suit. Canon powers

An Yu: Black and red scales, slitted red eyes, fangs, claws. Canon powers

Ice Cub: Has three halos, no powers until his exposure to the asteroid though

Newton: two sets of wings, four eyes (haha), canon powers

Speedy twins: demon tails

Bastet: small wings behind her ears

Octobella: gekko swears she's a demon, but she's not (she's a cecaelia)

feel feee to ask me about the other characters, i was too lazy to write them all (rip)

Fae AU

So, in this AU lilyfay is the only fae. She's from an alien race of space fae, idk. The problem is, she's the first of her kind to visit earth in hundreds of years, and nobody really remembers the rules of the fay anymore, or that they exist. Which means that there are many shenanigans.

Lilyfay loves to clean, but unfortunately power Q is already pretty clean because of PJ robot, so except for when gloop attacks, she needs to find other places to clean. She occasionally just shows up at the flying factory to clean it (romeo is not good at keeping his lab tidy). And Romeo freaked out the first time but he got intrigued after that. When Romeo disrespected her the first time she refused to take that shit and turned him into a fawn (fae will sometimes transform humans into creatures if they don't like them), but only for one night so that he would learn his lesson. After this, Romeo takes up some of the Creideamh Sí so that he won't get deer'd again, which starts with giving Lilyfay milk when she shows up and progresses to the two of them having tea parties together. The duo kind of become friends, but lilyfay will not hesitate to kick his ass if he lies to her or offends her in some other way. Nobody else knows about their secret.

Lilyfay also has a garden in power Q, that has a ton of hawthorn saplings among other things. She and An Yu tend to the garden, but An Yu isn't allowed to touch the hawthorn. Lilyfay would love to drag the gang back to the land of the fay, but she's enjoying earth a lot and figures that she'll stay, for now at least. Also, her true fae form is hidden behind a human disguise (I don't think that lilyfay would be a changeling, but i'm going to incorporate some elements of changelings in for funsies) she can also play instruments and loves to dance, but she and her friends only ever play just dance and take turns so that she doesn't have to (by law) drag them away forever.

#pj masks #pj masks au #not tagging all of these characters bro #also my posts haven't been showing up in the pjm tag for a while so #hopefully people see this

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twilightmalachite · 7 months

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Shu Itsuki - The Beauty of Distance

Author: Umeda Chitose

Characters: Shu, Kuro

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Non! You mustn’t use such expressions in a public space! Watch your language!"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Summer

Location: Café COCHI

Shu: (A cup of tea after returning to the country truly is good for the body.)

(The storefront doesn’t appear to be busy either, so I can stay here for some time… Hm?)

(How come a shadow’s suddenly fallen on my table—)

Shu: !? Ryu~ku… I mean, Kiryu! What are you doing outside the window?

You’re pointing over at my seat… Do you want to come in and sit at the same table as me?

Ah, goodness, trying to converse through the glass will only bring attention. How about you just come on in?

Time passes…

Kuro: …Yo.

Shu: Quite the greeting you have there. You should be telling me what had you appearing outside the window out of nowhere.

Kuro: What’s the rush for? It’d be rude if I took a seat without orderin’ anythin’, wouldn’t it?

Shu: Hmph. Then hurry up and order yourself something to drink.

Kuro: I told you I’m choosin’ one now. Well, I suppose orderin’ ice tea would be a safe bet.

Shu: —Goodness. I was planning to take it easy for a bit, but to think you would show up.

Kuro: Take it easy and don’t mind me, then. Well, I’m the one who imposed himself onto ya, so guess I’m not one to speak.

Shu: …So, what do you need from me?

Kuro: Just spotted ya and thought to say hi since you’ve returned to Japan.

But well, there’s somethin’ I wanted from ya too. Or well, somethin I wanted to ask ya.

Shu: What do you want to ask?

Kuro: It’s about when I went to France with ya to film for a travel show. There was that incident involvin’ ya, remember? Y’know, the one with the erotic stuff appearin’.[1]

Shu: Non! You mustn’t use such expressions in a public space! Watch your language!

Kuro: …My bad. Didn’t know how else to describe it.

Anyways. Just was wonderin’ about that, if the incident was resolved, y’know. Since we sorta had to leave at a critical point.

Shu: …Sigh. I don’t believe you have the right to know, given you left me for dead at a crucial moment.

But it’s not like I’ve heard anything about the rest of your trip either. Did you get to finish filming?

Kuro: I heard the feature itself is still bein’ edited, but we should’ve gotten some good footage?

Shu: ? That’s quite the vague answer.

Kuro: …To be honest, what left the biggest impression on me was how the flight home was also really tough.

Shu: Good grief. Why don’t you just ask not to be given anything that requires you to be overseas, given you’re so poor with vehicles?

Kuro: ‘Cause we rookie idols ain’t in any position to selfish demands like that.

Shu: Don’t care, give your opinion regardless. You don’t want things like that to negatively affect your health.

Kuro: …Haha, how come your responses to me are always so snappy, Itsuki?

I felt we were able to speak rather peacefully all the way over there. Was it somethin’ about the foreign atmosphere?

Shu: Was it peaceful? Morisawa and Tsukinaga were there, I just have the strong impression that it was quite noisy. What did you and I even get to talk about…?

Shu & Kuro: ……

—By the way… (That reminds me…)

Shu: What is it?

Kuro: Oh no, it’s not a big deal, what were you sayin’?

Shu: Neither is what I had to say… I’ve got a favor for you since you’re here, but it’s nothing important.

Kuro: A favor?

Sounds good, lemme know what ya got for me…♪

Shu: Why are you so pleased? I’ve just figured to ask if you could carry my luggage.

I’m currently here at COCHI after leaving my luggage back at ES.

But my luggage contains my personal tools and such, so I’d like to bring them back to Starmony Dorms myself. However, with the luggage quantity, I don’t believe I can make it in one trip.

So I thought perhaps you could help me out, so I wouldn't have to go back and forth.

Kuro: That's all? No sweat!

Though…

Shu: Are there any concerns?

Kuro: It’s ‘bout our room. I haven’t heard anythin’ ‘bout Sena returnin’ to the country, so I’m assumin’ it’s more or less available, but…

Isara and I have been real busy, so we haven’t been able to give the place a good clean lately. Had I known you were comin’ in advance, I would’a gotten it clean.

Shu: Hm… That being said, you guys aren’t all too messy, right?

Kuro: Yeah. But if I knew ya were comin’, I could’ve taken the chance to hang and fluff up your beddin’ while cleanin’ up, y’know?

I’ll at least use the dryer to freshen it up for tonight. ♪

Shu: …As usual, you act as if you’re my mother.

Kuro: Hey, what’re you takin’ my bill for?

Shu: We’ve each finished our drinks, so it’s about time we leave. Though, I haven’t heard what you were going to say yet.

Kuro: I’m ready to tell ya ‘bout that anytime, but ya didn’t answer my question.

Shu: …As thanks for carrying my luggage. I’m going to go pay our for our bills, so you can wait outside.

Kuro: …And off he goes. He really doesn’t need to thank me for that…

Location: In Front of ES Building

Kuro: …That is a lot of luggage. Definitely not somethin’ you could’ve done in a single trip.

Shu: I’ll take the trunks, and you can take the suitcases… But isn’t it about time I hear about what you had wanted to say, Kiryu?

Kuro: Jumpin’ right to it, arentcha… Let’s start headin’ towards the dorms if you’re ready. …But it really ain’t that big a deal.

Shu: Still, it’s something you wanted to tell me. It wouldn’t be fair if you only had heard me out, wouldn’t it?

Kuro: ……

…A new shop opened on Time Street recently. It’s small, but they have a pretty impressive selection of stuff.

They carry those rare fabrics and threads you always seem to be orderin’ and buyin’, too.

So, I thought ya would like the place too, Icchan. I thought I’d let ya know, since I doubt ya hear ‘bout this stuff bein’ overseas and all.

Shu: ……

…Kagehira and others fill me in on things from time to time, you know… But this is the first I’ve heard about a shop like this.

Kuro: Really? Even I just found the place only the day before last.

Shu: I’ll head there right away once we drop off the luggage. This shop’s selection that you’re praising so much has piqued my curiosity.

Kuro: Jumpin’ right to it, arentcha… Wait, didn’t I just say that?

But well, ya don’t know how to get there, don’t ya? I don’t got anythin’ goin’ on after this, so I’ll show ya the way.

Shu: …I’m sure I can just figure out the way from others. But if you’d like to show me the way, then you’re welcome to.

Kuro: Alright. And ya can tell me ‘bout how that incident went while we’re at it!

Shu: Kiryu… Is that all you wanted to hear about in the end?

In that case, you can tell me everything you can remember about your trip, then.

We can try talking about what we’ve been up to in a normal way, can’t we? …It didn’t feel right hearing that we can’t interact peacefully in this country.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

Referring to the incident from Astraea’s Atelier. For context, uncensored paintings and statues began to mysteriously appear in Shu’s atelier from time to time, causing him a lot of stress. Shu, Chiaki, Kuro, and Leo theorized it was one of Shu’s artist fans and beneficiaries leaving their art throughout Shu’s atelier in hopes of having their art recognized by him instead after having been dismissed as “vulgar” by him.

#shu itsuki #idol #translation #kuro kiryu

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decepti-thots · 1 year

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as we're talking about how tarantulas views prowl re: his behaviour towards others, this is going a little off on a tangent so i'll put it in its own post, but i was thinking the other day about the positive reinforcement prison and what it tells us about mesothulas and prowl in terms of what they were doing together.

mesothulas got told to make a perfect prison. so he created a perfect prison. the positive reinforcement prison is clearly a fucking fantastic way to ensure you reduce the likelihood of escape to near-zero. it completely disincentivizes any resistance. it keeps a threat pretty close to perfectly contained. it's clearly horribly immoral, for a start it LITERALLY brainwashes people- but prowl asked for a perfect prison and he got a perfect prison, courtesy of mesothulas.

prowl's objection to the prison is notably not like his objection to the noisemaze; it's not one of ethics. no, mesothulas mentions offhandedly that prowl felt that it was an issue because it didn't punish the prisoners enough. it rendered them completely harmless and secure, but that wasn't what prowl wanted, apparently. what's the point of punishing prisoners who are at no risk of escaping and therefore need no dissuading? well… prowl presumably just feels they 'ought' to, because they 'deserve it'. his sense of morality is one where you punish people who 'deserve it' regardless of whether it serves any actual purpose.

mesothulas has absolutely no moral compass. but the thing is, that really is no moral compass. he will do what he wants to do and it does not matter if it hurts other people doing it; but he doesn't have any active desire to hurt other people either. they're just irrelevant. he'll torture roadbuster if it gets him what he wants, but he doesn't tell himself roadbuster 'deserves it', even just in the sense of 'he's beneath me' or whatever. he just sees it as a way to get from point a to point b. hence the positive reinforcement prison: it's not that he wants to spare anyone suffering, he just wants to find the most efficient solution to the problem.

prowl has a moral compass, unlike mesothulas. he thinks that evil exists and must be defeated, he thinks harm to others is bad in the abstract, he thinks he has a righteous cause, all that. this pretty much universally results in him doing much more harm than mesothulas overall, because no moral compass is bad, but a sense of morality and therefore drive which is turned to bad ends in the name of 'justice' is often worse. mesothulas doesn't care about the war and never gave a shit about making weapons to fight it. prowl, in his desire to end the war at any cost, gets him to make a bomb and nukes a refugee city. mesothulas didn't care about that, but it never would have occurred to him to do that if prowl hadn't incentivized it. mesothulas doesn't care about 'bad guys' getting what they 'deserve', so he's happy to make a perfect prison that doesn't punish anyone if that's not a required part of making it work. prowl, who needs the 'bad guys' to be punished to satisfy his sense of morality, insists upon shelving it in favour of something less inadvertently merciful. (spark extraction doesn't seem to be torture, but it's clearly not actively pleasant.)

and mesothulas makes stuff! he doesn't do it for altruistic reasons. but he makes things; he makes a whole person, in fact, just to do the making part. he makes ostaros! and sure, his original motivation there was almost certainly pure fascination… but that doesn't change that fact that he is capable of creating something wonderful just because he wants to do so.

meanwhile, prowl tosses mesothulas in the noisemaze because his sense of moral injury gets too great… and then that sense of guilt doesn't stop him from trying incredibly fucking hard to kill ostaros, the absolute most innocent person it's possible to be. he KNOWS he shouldn't, and so he tries to get around his own inability to do so by sending impactor. it's not a. subtle difference between them.

it makes me think of that bit in OP #25, the epilogue issue post-Unicron... where prowl talks to shockwave about how he understands now that it's not what you think that matters ('our hopes'), but what you do. prowl thinks of himself as inherently more moral than mesothulas no matter what he does because he has the ability to feel the way you're 'supposed' to about things. sure, he only ever destroyed, whereas mesothulas could make things. but mesothulas is selfish, and prowl cares about other people. sure, prowl did terrible things that killed people, and mesothulas in large part only helped because prowl enabled him to. but prowl feels bad about nuking that city, and mesothulas only wouldn't have done it on his own because he doesn't care. sure, mesothulas also, you know. wouldn't have done it. but prowl thinks that an important part of being Good is following a certain set of moral rules as dictated by society, and he sees himself as achieving that where mesothulas fails, so he must be better in a moral sense. that's why he thinks getting rid of mesothulas will fix what he's done, stop him doing bad stuff. he thinks mesothulas is just fundamentally a worse person because there's something wrong with him, and prowl is fundamentally a good person because he has what mesothulas lacks, and when it turns out to be more complicated than that he has no idea how to fix it. and he cannot conceive of the idea that he made mesothulas more dangerous at least as much as the reverse is true, because he can't imagine anything being worse than not having a sense of morality.

#this is very disorganized sorry #i just think it's really interesting to look at characters as being worse because they have these traits #how they're not inherently redemptive the way they're often assumed to be #similarly: the idea love is not an inherently good thing which is always 'worth it'#meta #tarantulas #prowl #taraprowl

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there-was-a-hole-here-itsgonenow · 1 year

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MEAT above Melvin

@howtobecomeadragon and I have been exchanging a variety of ideas about what this sign could mean and we reached some interesting analyses!

This is such an intriguing shot because of that word alone. It’s directly, perfectly centered above Mike and El—perfectly centered in-frame (with the ‘S’ cut off) too. It’s a purposeful shot.

Obviously there’s the flesh monster as a present, looming threat that can be correlated here, but the monster itself isn’t a literal threat that poses to meaningfully separate Mike and El. It’s not like the shot of the very obvious #1 hanging right above (in-between if you imagine a frontal shot) Will and Mike specifically, in the same episode no less.

From this shot, I gather that One aims to get between and separate Will and Mike for his own purposes. Mike is constantly involved with thwarting One’s plans throughout the series, a big one being Mike’s interference with Will’s possession. Will opened up to Mike about feeling the Mind Flayer, and Mike said ‘maybe that’s good’ because Will was like a super spy. Mike later knew Will needed to be sedated when he was possessed because Will had able to open up to him previously. It was also Mike’s “it was the best thing I’ve ever done” monologue that got Will to break through enough to communicate via Morse code. All this to say that these interferences highlight the problem for One: Mike’s bond with Will. Henry is aware of Mike’s power in this bond, and so this analysis of the above shot holds weight.

But then there’s MEAT. Dragon mentioned that Mike and El could’ve been placed in an area where there’s health/nursing/pharmaceutical significance to represent taking care of their relationship, but we don’t get that. And unlike the #1 sign that points toward an outside force wanting to separate Will and Mike for a Henry-specific purpose, we can’t grab a similar analysis from MEAT/ the flesh monster. What can be understood is that Melvin’s relationship is compromised by themselves; Mike especially when breaking down what is about to happen after we see MEAT. One conclusion howtobecomeadragon and I came to is the concept of butchering/spilling blood in the way meat is prepared. It’s a messy, bloody process. ‘Butchering,’ by definition as an alternate description, can mean to spoil something completely by performing or dealing with a situation very badly.

Cue Mike. Howtobecomeadragon describes Mike as having ‘butchered’ not only his apology to El but also his messy attempt to say “I love you” to El. And of course, we have this very telling choice phrase from Mike (along with “Dustin, you’re breaking up”):

Mike and El have been going way too fast in their relationship and aren’t taking the time to understand each other (El is perfectly in-shot by Mike’s head when he says this, emphasizing that point). This truth is further emphasized by this next shot howtobecomeadragon pointed out to me:

A divider is between El and Mike, revealing a divide. The divider itself is not set perfectly between them either, once again depicting how El and Mike are not on the same page. Mike is placed further away from the divider, indicating he is not anywhere near resolving his issue. El is placed near the divider, and, though she isn’t on the same page as Mike, being close to the divider is indicative of her trying to listen/understand. Overall, it’s easy to notice the very clear divide within the divide represented here.

So Mike is butchering his words to El, dealing with their situation badly and even ‘performing’ the role of a boyfriend badly to his girlfriend. Of course, this goes deeper then just being a bad boyfriend. Pair the action of butchering with ‘spilling blood,’ a requirement when cutting meat. Blood is our force of life and, as such, contains our essence. Our essence is within the core of our beliefs, personality, and sense of identity: all that encompasses you. If you know the phrase “it’s in my blood,” this is part of your essence. It means you simply are the way you are/ are born the way you are.

Once again, cue Mike. It is my belief that because Mike says “blank makes you crazy” to El in this scene, Will is automatically bound to this scene due to “crazy” being a word in ST used synonymously with “love.” We know “love makes you crazy.” We know “Crazy together.” We know many examples. It should be clear that “blank makes you crazy,” and Mike’s inability to say “love” himself here, is all you need to understand that love for him is found naturally with Will but not with El. Regardless of your stance on Mike’s sexuality, the fact that Mike can be in love with and attracted to Will/to men is part of what makes Mike… Mike (“born this way”). Tie this with the spilling of blood—the spilling of your life’s essence, which is tied to truth. Your truth. Mike cannot spill his truth here. He cannot profess/‘spill’ “love” to El because that is not his truth. Bring this back around to ‘butchering,’ to spoiling something completely by dealing with a situation badly. Mike tries to force the word “love,” and so makes the situation more confusing (made infinitely worse in s4).

To further expand on this, puberty is a clear theme in s3. Puberty is a messy process. Howtobecomeadragon referenced Mike’s previous assertion to Will, that they aren’t kids anymore, and compared that to Mike trying to get El to say ‘love’ (as he clearly can’t say it himself) during this scene: “it’s what old people say to each other.” Dragon says Mike’s idea of romance stems from aging, which is correct because the presence of puberty in s3 is laying out what Mike believes getting older entails: having a girlfriend and leaving what’s believed to be ‘childish’/not ‘normal’ [in the process of growing up and assimilating into society] behind.

Additionally, he and El can only be physical (kiss) without proper communication. Physical -> Meat -> Flesh -> Puberty, the process in which your physical body begins to change. More than just physically, you are expected to change. While Mike and El are in the convenient store, trying to communicate/figure out their issues, MEAT hangs above them while a flesh monster is out to get them [more symbolically than literally]. The physical truth is out to get them, looms over them, and the truth behind their issues—Mike’s hidden issue particularly (perhaps even expressed through the MEAT sign, as the ME part falls perfectly over Mike and possibly represents a ‘me’ issue for Mike + an abundance of Mike’s blue lighting takes up the center-aisle shot)—is the threat to their relationship. This hidden issue of Mike’s that ‘threatens’ to break Melvin up is not meant to be a bad thing for them (no longer being a couple is the best outcome for them both). It is, however, Mike’s truth that is a threat against him having the norm. His truth is a threat to what is socially expected of him, causing Mike to continue this [butchered] heteronormative performance.

#after all…#what if they don’t like the truth?#mike wheeler #anti m*leven #byler #meat symbolism #st set design #st3

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xo-rihanna · 1 year

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“What am I then?” Lo’ak Sully

Warnings - Mild swearing, mentions of mating.

A/N - Lo’ak, Tsireya and the reader are 18 in this. This is also not proof read

Waves were your new favourite thing, you thought to yourself. Watching them roll in and out of the golden sand. The sound soothed your complexed mind that was running on a million thoughts per second. Every feeling was alien to you. You didn’t know how to receive them nor how to act on them. Especially since feelings were hanging in the balance.

You body was restless, much like your mind, and you channelled it through weaving new headpieces out of the shells and pearls you had collected with Tuk earlier that day. Your body was busy and you wished you could preoccupy you mind as well. The shuffle of sand as Neteyam sat next to you made you look up. You had always been close with Neteyam, he was truly like a big brother to you. Always looking out for you like a big brother should be.

“How you holding up?” It was a simple question on his end. One that required a simple answer. You met his eyes, you felt a twinge of guilt as you saw they were full of concern, and flickered over to the view that has been ruining your mood. “Just fine. Thank you, Teyam.”

He laughed at the politeness and took your half-finished headpiece out of your hands, forcing you to look up at him and spill your guts. He gave you a knowing look and you couldn’t contain the lava building up inside you. Volcanoes have to erupt from the pressure eventually. “Okay fine. I’m happy we have all settled well here. I mean really Awa’atlu is beautiful. And I’m so much happier knowing that Lo’ak has settled well too. But that is the problem. He’s settled a little too well with Tsireya. I just feel like we landed on our Ikrans, and boom! I’m invisible to him. It’s like he wasn’t proposing his love to me just last week!” You spilled alllll your guts to Neteyam and he listened.

Neteyam was a great listener. And also great at the advice. You snatched your headpiece back and continued with a huff. “Well, if I were Lo’ak I’d wanna know how the girl I loved was feeling.”

You scoffed, “Oh really? He looks so concerned doesn’t he.” Neteyam looked back to where he could see Lo’ak and Tsireya chatting in the distance. Your tail flicked in annoyance rustling the sand. “It’s not even the constant chatting. The breathing lessons. The swimming and diving lessons. The way he looks at her. Just ugh! Way too make it obvious.” You vented.

“I will not tell you what to do. But. I advice that you tell him how you feel. Lo’ak needs to be put straight sometimes.” You smiled at him and nodded. The call for supper made you turn your heads. “Come on, we should go.” He told you, helping you collect your things and putting an arm over your shoulder as you walked to soothe you.

Dinner was awkward that night to say the least. Lo’ak would try to make conversation and you shut him down. You felt bad deep down but you were too mad to care about his feelings since he clearly had no care for yours. When Dinner was finished, you were the first to get up and leave straight to your bed which you luckily shared with Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was right behind you. He could tell something was up. You were both finally alone. You turned to look at him and he extended his arms out to hold your waist. You were silent. Your eyes had a glint in them that he didn’t like. “What’s up baby?” He cooed, giving you eyes that in any other situation would have you drooling. He pulled you into his body and you squirmed to be let free. Lo’ak peppered kisses on your shoulder, “No Lo’ak! No!” You finally burst and stepped away from him.

“You don’t get to spend every day this week kissing up to Tsireya and then come in here and do the same for me! Is that how you wanna play, Lo’ak? Last week you love me. This week is Tsireya? Who’s next week gonna be!” Your ears lowered with every word and you could see the look of realisation hitting Lo’ak in the face.

“My love, there is nothing going on with me and Tsireya.” He stepped towards you to take your hands and you moved them from his reach by crossing your arms. “You are such a liar, Lo’ak. Damn. I am such an idiot for thinking that 18 years of friendship and love would mean anything to you.” Lo’ak shook his head, putting a hand to your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Y/n. I love you and I would never do that to you.” His voice was brimming with worry with every second that went by. You shook your head and avoiding looking at his face. You would give into that beautiful face. “If I’m a position you can fill with anyone. What am I then? I’m not your lover and despite your promising's I am not your mate.”

You bit your lip and finally looked up at his worry-stricken face. You wanted nothing more then to kiss him all over and keep him by your side forever. But the answer to this question could make or break an 18 year old connection. Lo’ak sucked in a breath, “You are my future wife, mother of my children. The fucking love of my damn life, Y/n. I was talking to Tsireya about how I should ask you to mate with me. She’s the only person here that I can actually ask. I love you with everything I am, Ma Y/n.”

Guilt instantly rushed through you. You heart throbbed at the things you’ve said to him and you rushed to apologise but were met only with the crashing of his lips on yours. His hand found your braided hair pulling you into the kiss while yours found the back of his neck. Your lips felt so right against eachother. You could stay like that for centuries, you never wanted to pull away. Eventually you did have to. “I see you Y/n.” Lo’ak said before planting more kisses to your lips.

“I see you Lo’ak. And I’m so sorry.” Lo’ak shushed you, his tail wrapped around your leg and he gave you a gorgeous smile. “It’s okay, my jealous girl.”

You deserved that. But you’ll probably never live it down.

#avatar way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #loak #loak sully #loak x reader #jealousy #jake sully #neytiri #tsireya #avatar

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luffythinker · 8 months

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Alright, Ojiro/Deku hows that for a rarepair? It all started with the Shinsou thing at the sports festival when Ojiro said when this for me. After Deku won Ojiro was really happy and Deku looked at him like "Huh....he's actually really cute" i don't think not a single person ships this but me they could be cute together. Ojiro training with Deku and Deku getting his ass folded by a martial artist but also Ojiro getting folded by Deku cause he's literally the strongest ever. Can we call the ship plain boys cause apparently in the mha universe Deku looks plain, has been called plain and Ojiro's room is plain as well apparently lol. They probably fell in love training together you can't convince me something ticked in their heads when a fist or foot collided with the others head or stomach. Ojiro is bad at cooking, he can only make simple things that don't require a lot of actual cooking.

Deku: "We are having katsudon"

Ojiro: "We had that 3 nights in a row."

Deku: "it's that, white bread or TV dinner"

They go shopping together always end up in the exercise section. Deku likes cuddling with Ojiro's tail it keeps him warm on a winter night. Ojiro is actually super shy when it comes to romance, Deku sort of is too so it's blushing covering their faces in the first part of the relationship but they slowly learn to contain themselves. They hold hands alot. They are a couple that rarely has any problems or arguments besides Ojiro asking Deku to please take care of himself but it never turns into a argument. Deku never would have guessed clothes shopping with Ojiro was this interesting, he's in on everything, he's asking questions. He's watching the people at the store prepare the pants with a tail hole for Ojiro or a sleeve and it's like the most interesting thing in the world to him. Ojiro is just looking at him cause this is normal. Don't know how they confessed but it had to be Ojiro who casually asked if Deku wanted to go out sometime.

Deku: "Oh! me?" and he's pointing at himself.

Ojiro: nervously laughs. "You're the only here."

Everything is just so natural for them to fall into, including each others habits. One time Ojiro is drunk at a part with Deku who hasn't had a single drink since he got here cause somebody told Ojiro he needed to relax and have fun at the party (probably Mina) and Ojiro said.

Ojiro: "i want to do taxes and laundry with you"

Deku: "What does that mean?"

He never answered him but he found out via Tsuyu like months later that it means he wants to get married, he freaks the fuck out cause he didn't even know he's married material. He brings it up and Ojiro says.

Ojiro: "Midoriya i was drunk!" half thinking it's funny half trying to understand why that's the take away Deku got from that time.

Deku: "Obviously! but did you mean it?"

Deku just takes somethings too seriously but Ojiro thinks it's cute.

okay I asked for a rarepair and you really delivered, let's get into these two

I like the idea of them bonding over fighting together, cause very different styles but it would help both of them. And the idea that Izuku is plain is just absurd to me like this boy is beautiful but i digresskjdfjkdfk the people in the bnhaverse are crazy

them both not knowing how to cook byeeeekxjcdkfj them living off instant ramen and take-out and the one dish Izuku can actually cook

wait i think it's kinda cute that deku could sleep hugging the tail or it's just there for warmth during the night; i also think they would be a very chill couple, like nothing to complain about

okay you kinda sold them to me, cause this shit is cuteeee, like they would just be so sweet and cute together, can see them having romantic dates and everything. it would be an easy safe thing for both of them

#ojideku #ojiro mashirao #midoriya izuku #bnha #mha #bnha rare pair #rei replies

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fanfic-scribbles · 7 months

Text

Building Bridges, Trying Not to Drown: Filling in the Cracks

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Steve has a bad night. Thankfully, he knows someone well-versed in getting through them.

Quick facts: Friendship – Steve Rogers & Reader –Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Depression, 1st person POV, part 3 of a series (first one can be found here, second can be found here, but there are more warnings for those so please mind the tags)

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 2485

A/N: Surprisingly not a lot of warnings for this one, and no tense shifts, yay \o/ Pretty self-contained and self-explanatory so not much to say; I'm not sure if this requires knowledge of the previous parts or if you can just enjoy it as is, but I've included links above just in case. Take care of yourselves, and I’ll hopefully have something a little more light-hearted next month <3

Bucky was away on a special mission with Natasha, Sam was off visiting relatives, and I was on the bridge…alone.

That was odd.

Steve had made it a point to be with me just about every night over the past week. It wasn’t as trying or tiring as it might have been normally– I was doing relatively all right, and I could see that he was…not. He was fairly good at putting up a mask, especially when other people were around, but he couldn’t, (or maybe just didn’t), put up a front with me all the time. We sat quietly. He stewed in his own head and deflected questions that hinted at concern.

I thought on that for a little while. I didn’t really like people poking at me too hard when I wasn’t feeling well. It was why I had tolerated Steve so well– he didn’t press too hard, asked a few questions maybe, but otherwise was content to talk about anything at all when I was unresponsive. It was like he just wanted to be present to know I wasn’t going to do anything drastic. And I…I felt very suddenly like I could understand the impulse.

Well. I stood up and dusted my pants. Sitting out here wasn’t helping anything anyway. Was kind of boring, actually. Time to change the view.

I knocked on the door of Steve’s and Bucky’s apartment and waited. And waited. And…I frowned. Was he out? I’d thought he said he wasn’t going on assignment. Then again, it wasn’t like he didn’t get called on emergencies, but he always told me if he was going to be busy, even if he was texting while running off.

I knocked again, a little hard and a little fast. If this was karma, it fucking sucked.

“Who is it?” asked a man’s voice, so sharp and short and stern I had to double-check and make sure I wasn’t knocking on the wrong door. It sort of sounded like Steve, but…

“Steve?” I asked uncertainly, even though I had been here before and I knew I was in the right place.

To my relief, he said my name in a normal tone and immediately unlocked the door. His voice was a little rough and rushed, and when he opened the door he looked a mess. Well…more a mess than I was used to. A piece of hair fell in his face and– I hadn’t known he could get eyebags. How long had he not slept?

I resisted the urge to sigh and squared up while he rubbed his face, brushed his hair back, and otherwise tried to pretend he was Fine, Just Fine, Really Truly Fine, Honest. He smiled weakly, but it fell fast, thank goodness. Not so thankfully, it was replaced with a worried crease of his brow. “I meant to tell you I wasn’t going to– God, did I forget to text?” He rubbed his face again. “I’m so sorr–”

“It’s okay,” I said and walked in past him. “We can hang out here.”

“You…might not want to,” he said, dropping some of the act but shutting the door behind me.

It was a little messy, yes, but I’d seen worse. Lived in much worse. However this wasn’t a competition, and Steve was flagging by the second. What to do, though? Tasks– Steve needed something else to focus on. “Do me a favor,” I said as I pulled off my jacket and tried to make a plan. “Do you have coffee or tea?”

“Fresh out of coffee,” he said, with enough regret that I could guess how my ‘how are you sleeping?’ question was going to go over. “But I do have some good tea.”

“Cool. Start boiling some water.” I stopped and quickly added, “Please. Can I…use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” he said, sounding even a bit lighter, though whether that was real or just an act for my benefit was not something I knew how to tell. So while he went to boil some water, I went to the bathroom and took a look around. It wasn’t bad– maybe because it hadn’t been touched much. Steve didn’t smell terrible, but even just looking at his hair I could tell he hadn’t washed lately. So I took down a couple of fresh towels, ran the shower, and used a washcloth and some of the warming water to wipe down the bathroom counter. On second thought, I grabbed a clean washcloth and set it next to the sink.

I stepped out and entered the kitchen to see a slightly amused expression on Steve’s face. “Is your shower broken?” he asked. He lost his attempt at a smile and leaned on the counter. “Are you okay?”

“I’d ask you that, but I don’t think there’s a good answer, is there?” I asked. He swallowed, tried to speak, but after a few attempts just hung his head and shook it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a little quieter. “I didn’t want to…put anything more on you.”

“I know the feeling,” I said. “But I wouldn’t be here if I thought I would make things worse. So, here’s the plan–wash up, dress in something really comfy, and we’ll sit on the couch with some blankets and just…make it through the night.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said gently, and lifted his head.

“Eventually,” I agreed. “But you don’t have to get through the ‘not okay’ part on your own. If you don’t want to. If you do…”

“No,” he said, quickly enough that I felt reassured this was the right thing. However, he then looked towards the sound of the shower with an expression of dread that was very familiar. Or at least, felt familiar.

“Life hack– you don’t even have to use soap,” I said. “Just stand under the water for a few minutes. And if you really can’t stomach the thought, just wash your face in the sink; maybe take up a washcloth if you want to.”

He nodded, but he looked really just…resigned. Defeated. “Okay,” he said in a small voice I’d never heard from him before, and turned towards the bathroom.

I felt suddenly struck by…not quite fear? He wouldn’t do anything while I was here, I was pretty sure, but it just…it felt so wrong to watch him shuffle along so miserably. I grabbed his shirt before he could go. “Steve,” I said as I tried to collect my thoughts into something coherent. “I’m…I’m not trying to shame you into, or out of, anything. I’m just here. To help.” I lifted my head to look at him. “So I’m here. Until you tell me to fuck off and you mean it. Okay?”

He swallowed very visibly, and gave a little tremble. “I get– I mean, I underst–” He tried for a few more words, crumbling further with every attempt, and his arms moved up and stopped and up and stopped, and then dropped.

I opened my arms. “Come here,” I said, barely getting the second word out before I was being hugged for dear life. I let it go on for a few minutes before I patted his back. “Go on. I’ll take care of the tea,” I said and stepped away to go for the kettle.

He smiled with watering eyes but shuffled away for the bathroom before I could see them fall. I started steeping the tea, and as soon as I heard the bathroom door click shut, I moved to the living room and started picking up.

Obvious trash went in a plastic grocery bag. Clothes got tossed into a pile out of sight. I remembered where the blankets were from when Bucky had gone to get one for me when I was having a bad night and couldn’t be alone, so I went and started feeling over the folded edges of each one. They were all fairly soft, so I picked a few at random, stopped off in their bedroom to get some pillows, and then went to make the couch as nice as I could. It was a large couch, wrap-around, and I set up the longer sitting side for us to rest on. I put the TV on with some quiet nothing nature videos and went back to get the tea. I checked the cupboards and there was food, but I wasn’t sure what Steve could stomach, so I let it be. If I suggested eating, he would want me to eat too, and I wasn’t sure if I could, so I had to leave that battle for later.

It took a few minutes after the water stopped running that he came out, changed into his PJs, with brushed but dry hair. “I couldn’t do the shower,” he admitted. “I put a washcloth under the water and used that instead.”

“Good job,” I said and meant it. When he stopped and made to go for the clothes pile though, I said, “Steve.” He stopped and looked at me. “Is it really bothering you that bad, or can it keep?”

He looked like he gave it some real consideration, but his face went slack and he shrugged. I nodded and patted the seat I had made just for him, with the best pillow and blankets. He took the offer for what it was, came and flumped down, and just sort of…stared at nothing with a blank look on his face. I handed him his cup. “It’s warm,” I said and slanted my body so I could lean on the couch arm, preparing for the next part.

“Does it help?” he asked and took a sip.

I shrugged. “Maybe cumulatively?” I suggested, because I really didn’t know. “Sometimes you just gotta ride it out. Better to be comfy.”

“I guess I can’t argue that,” he said and sipped the tea almost mechanically. Like it was another task off his list. I sipped at mine a few times before I set it on the coffee table and leaned against the couch arm. I used the blanket to protect Steve from my clothes, which were not as comfy. After a few minutes he set his cup down, half of it gone, and sighed. He looked so tired, but he kept blinking his eyes open.

“Hey,” I said. When he turned his head, I opened my arm in invitation.

He gave me a look over. “You don’t have to,” he said.

I tried not to roll my eyes. “I know. I do what I want, in case you haven't noticed.”

A ghost of a smile haunted his lips for a brief moment, and then he moved slowly and carefully to lean against me. He didn’t cuddle so much as just rest heavily, but within minutes he was breathing deeply, his eyes shut, and so I didn’t dare move except to make sure my phone was on silent.

It was. Had been, long enough that I’d gotten a message on the walk over and not noticed.

Bucky: Can I ask a favor?

I tried to be very careful in how I moved as I tapped out a reply.

Me: I’m staying with Steve right now. Me: Related?

It took only a few seconds for a reply. He must have been done with his…whatever he was doing.

Bucky: How is he?

I looked at Steve, whose mouth was slightly parted and showed absolutely no signs of waking. I blinked a few times. I was a little tired too, actually.

Me: Sleeping on my shoulder Me: He washed up Me: I don’t know how to bring up food Me: But I’ll try. Later. Bucky: Thank you

I almost shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. Something about the thanks chafed, so I let it go.

Me: Gonna sleep now Me: Be safe Bucky: Will do

I set my phone aside, pulled up the pillow into my arms, and laid my head against it. Even with the lights and TV, I fell asleep without any issue.

When I woke up again, I first noticed some extra weight. I wondered if Steve had shifted, but he was still sleeping in the same position, only now his arms were loosely around me– and resting against him was Bucky. Bucky, meanwhile, was watching Sam and Natasha, who were in blankets on the floor in front of Steve, on their phones, …playing a game?

“God dammit Nat,” Sam said and cursed quietly as he tapped furiously.

“Shouldn’t have left the east wall broken,” Natasha said smugly.

I blinked a few times, noted the early morning hour, and clouds outside besides, and decided I would rather go back to sleep than figure out what the hell this was.

“Now the north wall too,” I heard Bucky comment as I started to drift off.

“Yeah, thanks, hadn’t noticed that with Natasha killing my guards…”

At least Steve was sleeping through all this nonsense.

When I woke up again it was because Bucky was waking me for lunch. Steve was already up and occasionally running a hand through his hair while looking vaguely apologetic, but every time he started to open his mouth he received a glare from Natasha, or Sam, or Bucky, so apparently I had missed the most annoying parts.

“Cool; free lunch,” I said as I slid into the open seat next to Steve as everyone else settled in front of their bowls. Pho or something with a rich smelling broth and not too much stuff in my bowl, thank goodness. I looked at Steve. “Other life hack– broth totally counts as food if you can’t handle much.”

“I’m actually pretty hungry,” he admitted and took up his chopsticks.

“That’s good,” I said. I looked at him and what was with that expression? It wasn’t sad, wasn’t down, it was…annoyed? Pouty? I looked at Sam, who shook his head, and I looked at Steve again, until he looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked. “Uh…nothing. Nothing new, at least,” he said and stared at his soup. “I’m just…embarrassed, I guess.”

“Oh. You’re embarrassed?” I asked and thought about that as I blew on my spoonful of broth. “Should I be embarrassed?”

Bucky snorted, and Sam grinned. Steve’s face went through a few expressions, (one of which was definitely annoyance), before he settled on a wry smile and reached over to gently rub my head. “No,” he said softly.

“Good.” I took a tentative sip. “That sounds like it would be annoying. For everyone.”

Steve rolled his eyes and Sam laughed. Natasha passed me an egg roll and, to be polite, I nibbled on it. It was pretty quiet for the rest of the meal, but not in a bad way. This wasn’t going to fix whatever Steve was going through, but it didn’t have to. He’d pull through and feel better again. Eventually. For now, he was making it through. And that was good enough.

#steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #captain america reader insert

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