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#One day i'll write a fic for them. One day i will
yayakoishii · 3 days
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can we get some drunk love confessions from sanji?
Sober (Pt. 1) | Sanji x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader
Word Count: 2k
Genre/Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Insecure Sanji; there's a scene that might feel like dub-con to some but it's consensual from both sides– please read at your own discretion! ♡
A/n: thank you so much for this prompt anon,, I love drunk confessions myself so I was excited to write this!! I wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be confessing or Sanji, so I decided to make it Sanji this time since I already wrote a fic where reader drunk confessed. I hope you enjoy this ♡
Part 2
also available on ao3!
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The shouting on the ship got your attention from where you were playing cards with Usopp. Across the deck, Zoro and Sanji were fighting again. Even in the dark cloak of nighttime, they sure had the energy to fight without missing a beat. You sighed to yourself then decided that it would be better if you went over and distracted Sanji so the fight would end.
Except, before you had even stood up, the screaming stopped and the two were now stomping towards Zoro's stash of sake. You raised an eyebrow as you saw them sit down across each other, still glaring. You hurried over to them after telling Usopp that you'll be back in a while.
"What's going on?" You asked quietly to Nami and Chopper who had been watching over the two.
"They're having a drinking contest," the navigator replied matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows shot up in shock. Why would Sanji challenge Zoro to a drinking challenge of all things? "Zoro challenged him. And of course your lover boy couldn't back down."
"Nami!" You hissed at her, cheeks flushing. "Don't say that so close to him!"
Nami gave you a deadpan look. She still lowered her voice for your sake, "Sanji is dense as fuck. I bet all my money he wouldn't figure out your feelings from such a simple term."
"I'd still rather not risk it," you muttered underneath your breath before turning your attention to the drinking challenge in front of you. The two of them had already managed to down more than half of the first bottle. Illuminated by the lights on the deck, you could see the slight flush starting to rise on Sanji's cheeks.
The blonde chef could hold his liquor well but going against Zoro was probably equivalent to digging his own grave.
"This is not gonna end well," you sighed. "I'll just go finish my card game with Usopp. Are you gonna watch over these two or…?"
"They're paying me to play referee," she shrugged. You rolled your eyes and bit down the smile trying to come up. Chopper announced that he was going to sleep and to call him if something happened. You both waved him goodnight. Giving Nami a thumbs up, you went back to your seat too. Usopp was staring intensely at his own cards. You stared at him for a few seconds.
"You looked at my cards, didn't you?" You said flatly. Usopp's eyes widened and he started denying but gave up when you started shuffling the deck again. "Let's play one short game before turning in for the night."
You could still hear Zoro and Sanji fighting in the background, the noise just incoherent enough that you couldn't quite make out the words. You could tell Sanji was steadily getting more and more drunk as his voice started getting a little higher and shrill as he shouted. Even in the dead of the night, the Thousand Sunny was as lively as ever. The thought made you smile to yourself as you triumphantly showed your card sets to Usopp, finishing the game.
"You're suspiciously good at this," Usopp complained as he started packing up the cards.
"Be happy I didn't bet money on this," you grinned and leaned back in your chair. "You'd be a penniless beggar otherwise."
Usopp muttered something under his breath that you didn't quite catch. The day's exhaustion was starting to catch up and you decided that it was a good time to go to sleep. You had the early morning lookout shift anyway.
"Goodnight," Usopp called out as he left. You tilted your head up and down to acknowledge his words but stayed in your seat for a few more minutes. The shouting had ceased sometime ago and the low murmurs of conversation washed over you like a lullaby.
"(Y/n)!" Nami's shout of your name startled you awake from your half-asleep state.
"What is it?" You asked with a yawn as you made your way over. "Is their match over?"
"I had to stop them cause I don't think either of them plans to stop," she frowned. "I don't know about Zoro but Sanji would definitely die of alcohol poisoning if this goes on."
You laughed for a second but froze when you realised that Sanji was staring intensely at you. It made you self conscious and you automatically carded a hand through your hair to ensure it wasn't sticking out awkwardly.
"You should take him back while I squeeze my money out of Zoro," Nami winked at you and ran after the swordsman who had already wandered off somewhere. She was gone before you had even finished nodding.
"Alright, Sanji, come on," you smiled down at him, holding your hands out so he could stand up with the support. The chef stopped staring at your face and switched to staring at your hands instead. From your angle, you couldn't quite see his full face but the red splotches on his ears and cheeks were enough indication of how drunk he was. You waited for a few seconds. After a few beats of silence, Sanji placed his own cold hands into yours. You immediately covered them, trying to warm them as you pulled him up. The blonde must have been more drunk than you had thought because he lost his footing and nearly crashed into you.
Thankfully, you realised just in time and instead of the two of you falling on the deck, Sanji had crashed into your arms. Chests pressing, now he was the one looking down at you with a half-lidded gaze. The proximity resulted in Sanji's smell enclosing you, and you flushed at how one of his hands had sneaked around your waist in the confusion somehow.
"So beautiful," he whispered. Your heart was thudding faster, almost like it was trying to escape the confines of your ribcage. You nervously laughed it off.
"Alright, you've had too much to drink," you joked and tried to separate but Sanji's grip did not loosen. He always fought with his legs so you tended to forget that his arms were just as strong. Fingers spreading apart, his hand splayed across the small of your back. The cold touch over your shirt made goosebumps rise on your skin but you were distracted by the way Sanji's tongue was lightly grazing over his lips. The soft pink seemed to be shining in the light.
"This must be a dream," he spoke quietly, seemingly more to himself than you. You stayed still, praying that Sanji couldn't hear your crazy heart rate and that he would forget this tomorrow. (Or well, maybe he shouldn't forget this. You didn't know which option was more appealing at the moment.) "You smell divine, my love."
"Y- You too?" You squeaked out in panic, wanting to hide your face but your hands were trapped between your bodies, resting on his shoulders. Sanji laughed at your words– a soft, genuine, relaxed laugh that you didn't often get to hear. It made your embarrassment quell down and your heart felt warm. Sanji wasn't wrong. Something about this whole night seemed to feel hazy and distant, like a dream. He would only say such words and smile like that around you in a dream, right?
"I wish this wasn't a dream," his words sent something cold down your insides. "If only this was real…"
You paused and looked up at him. Pushing your body on the tip of your toes, you leaned into his ear and asked quietly, "What if it wasn't a dream? What would you do?"
You didn't know what had possessed you but it felt like the right thing to do, the only natural question to ask after his previous words.
"So many things I've wanted to do for so long," his words were still quiet, almost like he was afraid to break the tranquillity of the night. You stepped back and Sanji let you this time. His expression seemed broken and his eyes looked glassy.
You had never actually seen Sanji drunk. He had a high tolerance for alcohol and he usually didn't drink much to ensure he could take care of anyone else who was. (He always said it was just for the ladies but you knew he was secretly looking out for everyone even though he wouldn't admit it.) He never really cried in front of you either. The fact that a drunk Sanji was sad and broken was news to you.
"Sanji," you didn't realise you had cupped his cheeks until you had already done it. Something about that desperate look on his face had spiked an intense urge in you to hold him close. "Is everything alright?"
"If this was reality," his voice wavered, unconfident and so unlike the usual him, "you wouldn't look at me like you're doing right now. If this was real, you wouldn't be in my arms right now. You would never love me the way I love you and you would never see me as something beyond a crewmate."
Your breath hitched at the words, fingers accidentally pressing harder into Sanji's jaws. He didn't seem to feel it because a tear slipped down his cheek and onto your hand, the liquid trailing between your touch.
"That's okay," he blinked, a few more droplets falling down or getting stuck in his eyelashes. "As long as I can hold you like this in a dream… that's enough for me. I won't ask more of you if this was real. All that you give me is already more than I deserve. After all, for someone like me… There's no way you would fall for someone like me. And that's okay. Because you deserve someone better. But I'm so selfish. I wish I could keep you all to myself. I wish I could hold you like this in reality, and tell you how much you mean to me. I wish I could make you smile all the time and be a shoulder for you to cry upon on your bad days. I wish I could k- kiss you and tell you over and over… how much I love you."
It felt like a swarm of butterflies had suddenly erupted in your chest. The fluttering feeling was ticklish and you couldn't quite form words and you could only gape at Sanji. He still seemed to believe this was a dream because his other hand cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed against it, gentle and warm, no longer cold after all the proximity in you two. Before you could say anything, he dipped down and captured your lower lip in between his own, gently caressing it with his tongue. The sudden sensation made you erupt in flames, the blush reaching the tips of your extremities.
"S- Sanji," you breathed out shakily when he let your lip go to slip his tongue into your mouth. You wanted this. You had wanted it for so, so long– but not like this. You drew your head away before he could successfully infiltrate the warm, wet cavern of your mouth and instead gave him a flushed smile. His eyes still looked glossy but there was an unmistakable softness in them.
You would normally have told yourself that he was just drunk and didn't mean it. But there was a part of you that knew it wasn't the effect of the alcohol. Sanji was unbearably honest when he was drunk. His true feelings were what's making him sad. Denying them would be both idiotic and disrespectful, but you couldn't accept them either. The words he spoke weren't ones he had decided to say himself. He thought this was a dream.
"Tell me this tomorrow morning," you whispered, pressing a gentle and slightly wet kiss on his cheek. "Tell me you love me when you're sober. Tell it to me, when this is real and no longer a dream. I'll wait for you to tell me when you feel ready for it."
Sanji stared down at you, his eyes starstruck and in an expression of awe. The sight made your heart clench but you told yourself that he will do it. He will tell you his feelings again, when he is in full consciousness. For that, you had to let him go right now.
"And then we'll do everything that we have wanted to do for so long, yeah?"
°•❀•°
All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
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@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004
Part 2 now available!
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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 days
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LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+
I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.
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Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho
Blog Information | Masterlist
Xavier
Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.
Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.
Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.
Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.
"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.
He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.
You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.
He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.
"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."
"Unhand me you creatine!"
"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."
Zayne
Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.
It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.
Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.
"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.
"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.
"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.
"Might I inquire as to why?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out."
Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.
There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.
His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.
So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Playing with your nice ass."
"My butt is not a play thing."
You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"
You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.
"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."
Rafayel
He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.
If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.
Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.
You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.
"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."
"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.
You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.
"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."
"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.
"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.
"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.
"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."
"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"
"You wanna paint on my ass?"
"Perhaps."
"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.
"Never mind."
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The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate
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cottagec0relover21 · 2 days
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hii!! i first wanted to say that you're doing well and taking care of yourself :) could i request headcanons for chilchuck from delicious in dungeon where the reader is kind of like the bard of the party? and maybe they stay up late writing songs and chil ends up saying up with them? you can do what you like with it other than that but i like sharing ideas (and i love chilchuck :3) i hope you have a good day!! 💜💚
Hiii! I'm so happy to get a request, I forgot how exciting it was to open my askbox and read that someone wanted me to write them something (can you tell youre the first one yet?). I know you asked for headcannons, but I got carried away and ended up making it a fic I believe, by the way I wrote it. I still hope you like it! If not I'll try my best to specifically do headcannons next time if you ask 🌸✨️ (also have a good day too)
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"Late Night Songs"
[Chilchuck Tims x Bard!reader]
Warnings: none - gn!bard!reader - fluff
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Being the bard of the group was rather hard. Why? Well, writing songs and seeing if they ended up sounding good wasn't easy. (y/n) needed a lot of creativity for that. Luckily for them, they had a source for it: Chilchuck.
Yes, that guy in their group everyone treated like a child sometimes just because of his height. And while it was very adorable, yes, (y/n) saw a lot of depth in his personality.
Tonight they had decided to stay up, which many might say was not a good idea considering the fact they were exploring a dungeon. But they didn't care, they wanted to write, to compose something new.
And so they stared at the sheet of paper in front of them, their instrument by their side as they sat away from the fire so as to not bother or wake up the rest.
Entranced in their thoughts, they didn't notice when Chilchuck stirred in his bedroll to then wake up with a huff at the inability of going back to sleep, sitting up and looking at the fire that had not gone out yet.
That's when with his amplified hearing, he heard the sound of a pen writing down on a paper.
He looked behind him and found (y/n), sitting rather far from them. When had they woken up? Or had they not been able to sleep at all? What were they writing that was so important at this time?
All those questions filled his head as he got up slowly, trying to not make much noise for everyone's sake.
(y/n) raised their head at the sound of rustling and found their muse, standing up and looking at them, now approaching. He rubbed the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to them and sat by their side. —What are you doing up so late?— His groggy voice asked softly.
—I'm trying to write a song, or to at least think of a new melody, but I can't seem to come up with anything— they said as they looked at him, noticing a sleepy smile.
Chilchuck sighed, looking at the rest of the party, all in a deep sleep. —Well I can't seem to fall sleep anymore, I'm really not comfortable with how hard the floor feels today. Mind if I stay up with you?— He took a quick peek at the paper, but saw nothing written. They really had some artistic block, huh?
(y/n) smiled at their question, excited to finally have spend some peaceful time alone with him— Not at all, you might help inspire my new song in fact— they winked, and Chilchuck felt his heart leap in his chest at the gesture. He really hoped the darkness of the night helped hide the embarrassment in his face. It was a simple wink, what was wrong with him? he thought, shaking his head.
He chuckled softly, his gaze moving away from them for a moment in embarrassment— Don't say those things— he rubbed the back of his neck— thank you though, it's... flattering— he admitted with a sheepish smile.
—In fact, you've always been my inspiration. I'm not gonna lie to you— God his heart was about to stop. Had he heard them right? What did that even mean?
—I have?— He didn't know how to ask without looking too excited about it.
—Of course, you're practically my muse— they noticed him staring with slightly wide eyes at their sudden confession.— I don't know but– you just have something that always makes me stare and it makes the inspiration bubble up inside of me— okay today was definitely going to be his funeral. Chilchuck swallowed harshly, a blush definitely burning bright on his cheeks as he kept silent, his brain failing to come up with an answer.
He watched them suddenly gasp and start to write down something on the paper that rested on their thighs. (y/n) mumbled to themselves as they kept writing, a sudden urge of inspiration rushing through them.
They look up again quickly at him, a light in their eyes.— Ah– I almost forgot to thank you.— they smiled at him with sincerity and gave his hand a quick squeeze, at which he just nodded, humming in response as they watched them write down their ideas, praying to whatever deity was out there to make his blush go away.
He would've never guessed he was helpful in more ways than just picking locks and finding traps. But thanks to them, now he knows he is, for (y/n) at least, a source of inspiration. And their heart swelled with emotion and pride at that.
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richeeduvie · 1 day
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Can someone please explain to me the whole baby thing? And dog bone au? And all these aus im so confused
DOG AND BONE!AU BASICS
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.
This is asked every five months and I'm happy to explain it each time! I'll put it in the pinned post! This is a long one so sorry yall
So Dog and Bone is the title to the AU for a self-insert x Roman Roy fic compilation. There's no actual series yet…sorry, I know! How long has it been? But these fics range from entire one-shots that center around a plot that can lead into another one-shot/drabble, with the content of said piece becoming important to the whole AU, to just cute, fluffy or smutty drabbles and blurbs. Most of them are based on requests. Your request could become a big part of Dog and Bone!
BABY
Baby is the name for the self-insert. Fics will flip from a second person to third person POV, so you'll see her referred to as 'Baby' a lot. I don't consider her an OC because there's no and will never be a physical description of her and to be honest, I only started to referred to her as Baby so I could write third person POV fics when I'm lazy and don't want to go heavy in internal monologue, which is what I do for second person POV fics. I never use 'Y/N' for her or any self-insert. But many see her as other people and not themselves and I love that too!
Personality-wise, you'll find her to Roman's soulmate. Although she is still a victim of being out-of-touch due to her wealth, she's managed to be kind and respectful and just something that Roys don't have outside of her. She's the ultimate nepo baby with Logan just giving her some vague career path at Waystar to keep her around. She mostly works in marketing and spends her days with Tom and Greg. So, the story of DAB (lol). Baby is the childhood best friend of Roman (and Shiv). In the AU, Baby's biological father was Logan's best friend and business associate. She met the Roy family when she was five and when Roman when almost seven. She was meant to be the best friend of Shiv, but Roman stole her one day when Shiv when to get more toys and baby Baby was on the swings. His sister is still pissed about this to this day.
Nothing much has been mentioned of Baby's bio dad just yet, but it was a one-time thing (so understandable is yall don't remember) that we see Logan giving Baby the medal her father gave him after his funeral. He's dead and apparently fought in a war, or maybe just liked collecting medals as much as Logan did.
So, facts about the dead dad:
Maybe was a veteran
Was hinted to have given Baby an eating disorder
Died when she was eight
Possibly kept her away from her mother
Logan's her godfather, but it was Frank to take her in after her dad had passed. Frank ON TOP!!!! PAPA FRANK!!! Baby's mother is very distant and she's really only seen her for a few holidays throughout her childhood. I've always imagined her to be those wealthy hippies feigning spirituality and did maybe try to get Baby in terms of custody, but didn't try a lot - not even after Baby's father died. So, Baby gets to stay with the Roys with Frank being her guardian. With this, it's just co-dependency and possessiveness growing.
Roman and Baby don't really have friends outside of each other. They do everything together and eventually start doing relationship sort of things together. They take each others virginities. Roman gets panicky and painful in the muscles if Baby has to leave him for more than three days. It's great, but nothing's official.
They live this way until Roman gets with Tabitha.
Now, you may be thinking 'Why does he begin a relationship with Tabitha if he's so possessive and seemingly satisfied with the situation he has with Baby?' Well, I have two fics that'll help you to explain Roman's stupidity:
Why Does Rome Still Date Tabitha (They Don’t Have Sex, but Still) Kendall Wins!AU Confession
The latter of the two is a bit more personal and truthful for Roman. It can be noted that as much as I am a GerriRoman supporter, their relationship does not happen in the DogandBone!AU. Only because one, frankly, I don't know how to or have the desire to thread it throughout the story because I already kept Tabitha's plotline…which is Roman's downfall. You will see. And two, you'll find that Roman and all of the Roys, really, have a lot of themselves changed all because they have one genuine friend that's cared and loved them since childhood so that big part of Roman's plotless plot-time in canon is gone here. Grace didn't happen as well because Jesse Armstrong said so lol.
As I said, the genuine friend line applies to all of the Roys (excluding Logan, except for his AU…), but it really applies to Kendall. Going back to the point where Baby and Roman are fourteen/fifteen and fifteen/sixteen, he gets sent away to military school. I made it so he's only there for two years to which Logan just doesn't care to send him there anymore because I want Baby and Roman teenage puppy and needy love for as much as I can get it. During this time, Kendall has this belief, this kindness to take in Baby when she's at her loneliest.
and…so…Kendall and Baby's whole thing?
The link above sums up their whole situation but I'll elaborate a bit more here because there's Tern Haven. Tern Haven happens in the OG!DogandBone!AU and KendallWins!AU, the grooming situation happens in every AU.
Of course, Roman comes back and Baby sobers up for the most part and leaves groomer Kendall's ass in the dust! It's when Roman starts dating Tabitha decades later that Kendall, who never actually made a move on Baby, brings hell and tragedy to the family. Baby's not so keen on continuing to have sex and the weird thing she has with Roman as he is with Tabitha around, so she becomes lonely and thoughtful in the need to reconnect with friends, maybe start dating herself. She's there during Tern Haven and can't go to Roman's room to hang out, Tabitha's there. She doesn't bother Shiv and Tom, she could talk with Frank, maybe? Maybe, but she makes her way to Kendall's room.
And whatever high horse Kendall put himself on for not doing anything with Baby, maybe not being in love with her - or at least having no awareness about it, whatever was starting with Naomi, it's gone when Baby enters that room.
Again, Tern Haven happens in Kendallwins!AU and the OG!AU. The only difference is that after, Roman is either successful in pulling Baby away from Kendall, or he isn't. This is where it can get confusing as it can with all the AUs because there's so many little splices of moments within content that really helps you understand how things happen but I can say that the Kendallwins!AU is just sad, scary, and dark.
But enough of that!
OG!DOGANDBONE!AU
After Roman's successful in getting Kendall away from Baby, he immediately breaks up with Tabitha and they heal from what happened. Kendall declines quickly during this. Logan dies and they get married after the GoJo sale. They have Baby Jr. On occasion, we'll have fun and write them having two more kids, Baby Jr Jr and Roman Jr, but they aren't canon - or they at least would get a canon fic like Baby
FICS TO HELP: Romulus Sneakers | Dad Frank feat. Baby Roman Call Them Brothers Back in Town Bone and Her Heart Roman’s a Friend Stealer While you were sleeping Touch Me (I'm Sick) Date Death | Part One Date Death Part 2 Babied (He Loves It) Violet, Blue, Green, Red To Keep Me Out Phone Call Home Baby Baby in “I went to Market” Baby in ‘Too Much Birthday’ After the GoJo Sale Telling Roman She's Pregnant
BABY JR
Baby Jr is an unrealistically perfect angel of a child that belongs to Roman and Baby in their AU and was born a preemie with a slew of health problems, but because I love her so much, it's becoming a running joke for her to just exist in every AU, somehow. if Baby's there, Baby Jr's there. She's named fittingly. You'll see her a lot in smaller blurbs and fics. Another running joke is that she hates Kendall in every AU, though she's barely mentioned outside of the OG! and Loganwins!AU.
JUST MY FAVORITE BABY JR FICS:
Baby Baby's First and Last Day at School Bear Baby Jr! Baby Jr Doing Something Dangerous Connor Taking Baby Jr Fishing Baby Jr seeing Baby Roman with Glasses
VARIATIONS OF THE OG!AU
They aren't mentioned a lot anymore because we don't get so serious about them and it was more just to have fun with the story, but the OG!AU does have some variations to how the plot goes. You have Baby and Roman having Baby Jr before season one where Tabitha and Tern Haven are things that obviously never happened:
If Roman Knocked Baby Up Logan Bullying Baby Jr YoungBornBabyJr!AU With Roman Forcing Baby to Marry Him Roman Drunk and Loving If Roman Knocked Baby Up in Their 20s If Baby Jr was Little in The Pilot Logan’s Baby Jr Favoritism Where’s Your Daughter?
Then, you have Baby dying and Roman killing himself to leave Baby Jr an orphan: Come Time, Baby Jr Missing Mommy.
Or you have Baby AND Baby Jr dying to leave Roman killing himself after his last moments of suffering…which, I can't find, but do we really want to read that?
If you don't want to suffer, it can end simply as a nightmare Roman had in the night. Here's another Nightmare Blurb.
LOGANWINS!AU
Listen. I CANNOT be the only person who has consistently written for Logan. I CANNOT! But I do and Baby is unfortunately the victim of a joke turned into a horniness for an old, old man.
Logan doesn't actually have a fic establishing the Loganwins!AU. Everything that's longer than a blurb are moments that already take place after they've gotten together. Tern Haven does not take place here because it appears that this…intimate relationship takes place before season one. Roman doesn't get together with Tabitha in this AU because he's really fucked up about his soulmate having sex and marriage with his…Dad. His abusive Dad. Baby Jr does exist here! This started as a joke to get people grossed out over old man Logan cock, I played it so I was DISGUSTED to appease any requests that were sent in. I really was. I don't know what happened. But a lot of what is written expands past Logan x Reader and more about the AU itself, which happens with Kendallwins! and the OG!AU too.
FICS TO HELP: THE OFFICE CONFRONTATION Mondale The Second Baseball Sick Baby Jr Mom(my) Siblings and Baby Jr Buzz off! Sister Shiv Recital Alone Baby Jr How Does The Relationship Begin? How Does Logan Propose? Are Baby and Roman Still Close? Pregnancy Announcement in the AU They Bought a Cat Who's Baby Jr's Godfather? Panty Stealer Roman's Twitter Argument
You guys are lucky I can't find the smut fic I wrote. But it's here on this blog. Somewhere.
Nvm here it is my bad: Reflections.
AFFAIR!AU
There's the Loganwins!AU, then there's the Affair!AU, which was established pretty recently. It's where Baby begins an affair with Roman while she's married to Logan and Baby Jr ends up being Roman's daughter, not his little sister. As much as I have accepted my great enjoyment in indulging the Logan lovers, I do think this is Baby at her most Succession.
She gets the benefits of being Logan's wife and his favorite wife, a cute daughter, Roman at her heel, whining for her to really be with him but knowing he'll never leave her at her denial. She's horrible, a whore. A baddie winning.
FICS TO HELP: Baby Jr being Roman's Daughter Roman and Newborn Baby Jr Baby in the Affair!AU Roman revealing she's his to his siblings "Dada" A Slight Confrontation How does it start? In Dad's Bed
GROOMING SITUATION (OG!AU and KENDALLWINS!AU)
So, I explained most of it above, but these are the fics to help understand just how messed up DogandBone!Kendall is. He's a different man, guys.
(Also Stewy was there. Stewy was her friend. A flawed twenty-something year old who didn't care enough to separate himself from Kendall when noticing the red flags of him and Baby, but he denied, denied, denied. But he also gave Baby some sense of being…ya know, a kid…cause he saw her as a CHILD)
Tern Haven:
Tern Haven EXTENDED TERN HAVEN More of Tern Haven (…Yay…)
Ken's Groomer Era:
Sleepover Drugged Up Heart Does Baby go Clubbing With Kendall? The Birthday (Big One) Kendall being Confused That Baby's Not Jealous More of Ken being Confused That Baby's Not Jealous Sleepover 2 Kendall's Birthday Gifts....
The Aftermath:
Smacktalking During Too Much Birthday Bad Bit
There's more, of course. There's always more.
KENDALLWINS!AU
After Tern Haven, Kendall has Baby. He's won Baby. He gets more addicted to drugs while making her dependent on them. He turns her into nothing - and just for him. He's scary and paranoid when it comes to Roman. A variation of the AU would be the Babydies!AU, where she accidently overdoses after he leaves her alone. It's a lot. This is not a fun AU, guys. But I like to write it!
FICS TO HELP:
Housewife Thing Waystar Press Conference Accusing Baby Jr of Not Being His Roman Trying to Get Baby Back From Kendall A Slight, Brotherly Confrontation Daily Does of Horror (Heroin) Mention of Heroin Handsy Baby and Kendall and Pills Panty Stealer Brother Roman's Dick Pics Saying Roman's Name Flower Delivery
THE OD FICS:
No Time Needled Memories
NOW....
SHIV'S AU
Shiv's AU isn't even a win!AU, technically. We haven't really dabbled in the idea of her winning. Just more of her yearning, but all in all, this woman wants Baby soooo badly. Too sad she has the guilt of being a woman. And her father. And Tom. And the denial hot on her skin.
Calling Shiv Shiv
TOM'S AU
Apparently the man can get obsessed and they haven't even kissed in his AU, yet. Fitting considering the shit he pulls with Greg. It's Baby at her most guilty due to her friendship with Shiv.
KARL'S AU
No.
STEWY'S AU
I give crumbs and only crumbs. But we're getting something started with Wedding Bells (Part One)!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.
I hope this helps! xoxo
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Charlie's corruption arc ✨😈
aka Broken Crown AU inspired by this post because I’ve been thinking about it intensively. So, I believe Charlie's villain arc would start with a great feeling of relief. Imagine: it's been a week since the final battle; it's been a week when Charlie hasn't been able to sleep at night. Others think she's still grieving, but the truth is different. Every night, Charlie cannot fall asleep because she's trying to cope with the relief she felt the second Adam died. She was the one who at first stopped Lucifer from finishing him, just because killing Adam didn't seem right. But when Niffty actually did it, despite everything, it felt right. It felt good.
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After weeks (months?) of looking for a way to stop Adam from committing genocide against her people, after being bullied and humiliated by him, after witnessing how an unjust system enabled his despicable actions while ruthlessly punishing others for far lesser crimes, she finally, for the first time, felt like she had any agency. Just like that, her loved ones were finally safe. They could all breathe again, and all it took was a small act of violence against the person who fully deserved it. This realization changes her. While she doesn't intend to do such things in the future, she can no longer deny that exercising brutal power can be the best solution when dealing with certain kinds of people. This is the very first thing she hides from Vaggie. Not because she's scared of her judgment but because these ideas are so against her own moral values it is simply scary to put them into words.
Maybe I would be capable of killing someone in cold blood. Maybe I'll have to do it one day.
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But Adam's dead, so they are safe, right? And she won't ever have to make a choice like that again. That's some reassurance.
And then, Niffty is killed by Lute. Just like that—Lute teleports to Hell by night and slaughters her in revenge because why wouldn't she? Who would have stopped her?
It obviously hits everyone hard—they just lost another friend. But Alastor? Alastor loses his fucking mind. He goes completely feral, yelling at Charlie and blaming her for everything.
What kind of incompetent fool shows their enemy mercy and lets them live long enough to get vengeance? I cannot believe I thought you could be a competent leader. You are just a fucking child. You are all a bunch of idiots.
Charlie goes through a complete meltdown because she knows he's right. If she had the guts to finish Lute or at least asked Vaggie or Lucifer to do so, Niffty would be alive. She's crying, choking on tears; she feels like a hopeless failure, but Alastor does not give her a break. He seems so infuriated she thinks he would kill her. Fortunately, Lucifer and Vaggie intervene. Lucifer puts Alastor back in his place by essentially beating the shit out of him. Vaggie takes Charlie out to calm her down. She insists that if it's anyone's fault, it's hers because she was the one who spared Lute, but Charlie knows that it's a lie. Vaggie would have killed Lute if not for Charlie's convictions. She fails, and she fails all over again, and it seems like she can't escape the evil. It's her responsibility to face it on equal terms. Otherwise, she won't be able to protect her loved ones.
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After this incident, both Lucifer and Vaggie insist on kicking Alastor out of the hotel. He's too dangerous, too unpredictable. We can't allow him to treat you like this. We don't even need him anymore; there's nothing an Overlord can do that the King of Hell can't.
But that's not the truth. There's something Alastor can do that Lucifer can't: play the game. And now, grieving another of her friends, Charlie realizes she needs a teacher if she wants to stop pieces.
I have like 0 time to write the proper fic but I had to get these out of my system because holy shit I love coming up with elaborate plots I'm not able to execute. Maybe talking about it will somehow scratch the itch.
Also tagging @purrpleowl because she expresses her interest in this idea.
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pseudowho · 1 day
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hiya 🙂 i love your nanamin fics and i followed you for them way back when you wrote the pregnant reader one (and I still think about it). thought id ask you cos you seem to answer questions like this pretty wisely 🥲
i started writing fics for a pretty niche character in a fandom (not jjk) a while back and a friend/moot started then too. this character doesnt have lots of readers and thats fine im just here for the writing.
but since then ive noticed my friend has stopped reblogging my fics even tho they did before and even tho they obvs read and reblog everyone elses fics for this character (there really arent many of us).
they also seem upset about notes/likes a lot of the time. but I know they read my fics because I see lots of the same word choices and styles show up in their fics the next time they post.
its upsetting me lot tbh. i still read, like/comment/rb fics i like and its starting to feel like they do it because they think i have more readers than they do and mb theyre jealous.
anyway i dunno if you think i should raise it with them or just leave it?? they dont talk to me much anymore either after I didnt rb one of their fics i didnt really love.
First of all, well done for starting to write, and writing for an 'unpopular' character too, it looks like it's hard having a niche audience in the Tumblr-sphere. I'm always really grateful when someone writes for a niche character I love, every fic is like finding a diamond!
Second of all: I'm really really sorry this is happening to you. It has happened and still happens to me, too.
Thirdly: While I'll give my thoughts on it straight after this, one truth is that the other person maybe simply doesn't like your writing, and there's nothing mean-spirited about it at all.
Saying this, in your case, there seem to be too many little factors that actually makes me think... 👇
I have Thoughts™️💬 about Toxic Tumblr Reblog Culture...
There is a little phenomenon I've noticed with a lot of fic writers, where they seem to stop reblogging the fics of others who they view as competition. Even if they often read and reblogged another writer's fics before they themselves started writing.
They seem to think that if they reblog the work of you, their "competitor", then your work will get more attention than theirs. It gets even worse the more 'popular' you get, sadly.
I understand, because it's hard to see someone reblog most other peoples' fics about a character, and then pointedly ignore yours. You're not mad for feeling targeted. It can feel this way.
Equally, there can be a cherry-picking of moots' work, and a high school clique attitude to reblogging. Do two or three people band together and constantly reblog each others' work, making a huge fuss whatever it is, but leave you out even though you've historically been part of the circle before? Again, it's not as uncommon as you think.
A real "if we become moots, that means I reblog all your stuff, and you reblog all my stuff" as an unspoken rule. While that might work nicely for some people, it can also foster an air of pressure or entitlement, or of reblogging things even if you didn't really like them, because they're your friend. While fostering growth and circulation in the art community should be celebrated, I'd hate to think someone reblogged my work out of obligation, as opposed to passion.
I've had followers who loved my stuff, always commented and reblogged etc, but when they started writing for the same characters themselves, just stopped. I've also noticed a lot of the things you mention (them using similar word choices, stylistic choices etc to mine, in their new fics).
So, you know they're there reading in the background, and it doesn't make sense that they liked your writing one day, then just stopped liking it overnight, right?
I don't often muse aloud about "controversial" subjects on Tumblr, but this one really gets me. It turns writing, an already isolating art, into an even more isolating "competition".
It's sad, really.
Saying that, I still read, comment, reblog all the work of theirs that I read and love! It feels petty and ridiculous, but try to be the person that you want to see in the community. They'd probably notice they still get just as many readers as before, and actually, will be forced to address that their writing may be less popular for another reason.
I have wonderful friends here who read and reblog any of my stuff they like, just as I do theirs. I made a post a little while back, r.e. always reblogging stuff just because you're moots, and I'm glad to say I don't have this strange entitled relationship with these friends. It's low pressure and really fun.
Reblog in the best spirit; reblog stuff you love, that you think is great, etc etc. Don't fall into bad intentions! It's meant to be fun. It's not high-stakes. What are people competing about? I feel really bad for you, OP, and I know what it feels like.
Jealousy in the Tumblr fic writer community is strong!
Hang in there baby. You're doing great.
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-- Haitch xxx
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shaunashipman · 3 days
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Being 100% serious, I was a hardcore b.ddie shipper before bucktommy happened. I was all in on the theories, the slow burn of it all, etc. I loved them. And when bucktommy first happened I was ready to dive in with multishipping bx to me that's just. What you do. When there are two/more ships that you like. You ship both. You ship all of them together. It's like playing with dolls, yknow?
But then the toxicity started. And fortunately I have amazing mutuals so I didn't see the worst of it until I went into the tags. And I am being so completely serious when I say that watching the toxic b.ddie stans rip bucktommy apart, harass the actors, harass Tim Minear, going out of their way to be the most aggressive, annoying people in fandom. It killed my enjoyment of the ship.
I dont ship b.ddie anymore because of the way these people have behaved. Because of the way that side of fandom has been overtaken by bitterness and hate and thinly veiled homophobia. I cannot find enjoyment in that ship anymore because of the way people have turned it into the new destiel.
Tim likes writing the buck/Eddie friendship, and I love seeing it on screen, but it would not surprise me in the LEAST if the stans cause another cast separation like the destiel fans did. (Iydk: destiel fans harassed the actors to such an extent that they actually severed ties irl; for years, they refused to do con panels together or pr together bx the fans were so obsessive that they actually sparked rumours about the ACTORS cheating on their respective wives* with each other.)
(*Do I think it'll go that far here? I hope not, but given that people are shipping Ryan and Oliver already, it wouldn't surprise me if they did.)
Sorry this got long. I dont normally just drop into ppls asks to whine like this but I just have to say it to someone who isn't going to crucify me for not shipping b.ddie anymore. Maybe if the fans calm tf down I'll go back but for now... b.ddie to me are platonic soulmates. That's all it's gonna be to me.
I hope your day is going better than mine.
I'm always good with rants in my inbox so long as ppl are respectful 🫶
I'm really sorry the other stans have ruined your enjoyment of the ship, that is one of the worst feelings in fandom. I too used to ship buddie, as a purely fanon ship, but now I don't even want to read fics, and seeing gifs of them gives me such a visceral no response, which sucks because a lot of the gifsets are gorgeous and as a fellow gifmaker I know how much effort goes into them
I do hope things will calm down and you can enjoy it again; unfortunately I fear if bucktommy are still together at the end of the season 🤞 and there isn't a clear shutdown on buddie from TPTB, that it's only going to get worse over the hiatus
in the meantime
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scoonsalicious · 22 hours
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Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...
Today, I have something special for you for the final day of my break, lol. This is the first written chapter of a fic I started writing last year called The End of His Line. It's a Bucky x OFC that made it to about 70k words before I abandoned it for Unwanted. Maybe I'll revisit it someday. It's entirely self-indulgent, not edited very much, and takes place after TFATWS. The premise is that Bucky's been having some trouble since the events of the series, particularly hearing voices. Sam's suggested they contact a friend of his, someone known as The Archivist, who might be able to get them access to Hydra's records on the Winter Soldier program in an attempt to figure out what's going on with him.
Totally self-indulgent and NOT an author-insert, because her name is Sarah and my name is Sara, and they are two, totally different names! Yeah, okay, we both may have auburn hair, but both those elements are important to the story! Plus, our eyes are totally different colors! ;)
Enjoy!
Bucky sat at a table in a dimly lit diner in Midtown, just a few blocks south of Grand Central Station, where Sam had arranged for the two of them to meet this mysterious ‘Archivist’ of his.
Bucky pressed his back against the cold brick wall, feeling more alone than ever. The bustling city streets were a world away from him now, and it was as if he was completely invisible to the waves of people that walked by him. He peered out at them through the window, feeling every bit of his one-hundred-nine years old while all around him remained oblivious.
He glanced at his watch. He was early, having been far too anxious for answers to sit still in his barren apartment, just waiting. And frankly, he didn’t want to be alone. Loneliness visited him a lot more frequently now that Sam set up permanent residence back in Delacroix. Bucky was always welcome to visit, and he did, but after too long, the sight of Sam, surrounded by family and community, always seemed to weigh too heavily on Bucky’s chest, and he’d be reminded of how much he missed Steve’s presence in his life. 
A part of Bucky resented Steve’s choice to leave him alone in this foreign world, when Steve had been his only lifeline. Then Bucky would remember everything Steve had sacrificed to bring him back from the darkness, and Bucky would feel ashamed. How could he begrudge his best friend the chance to live the life that had been stolen from him?
Your life was stolen, too, the quiet voice whispered from the darkest corner of his mind. It’s not as though Steve had to go alone. He could have taken you with him. So much for the end of the line.
Bucky slapped his metal fist on the table in an attempt to force the voice back into submission. Instead, the napkin holder on the table shook with the reverberation, causing an older couple a few tables over to look up in alarm. He really needed to stop spending so much time alone. 
The sun had risen over the zenith of the avenues, the heat of its rays amplified through the diner windows and making Bucky uncomfortably hot in his leather jacket. He shrugged it off and tossed it over the back of his vinyl chair as the bell above the diner door cheerfully rang. Sam approached the table and took a seat next to him, placing a large round bag next to his chair.
“You brought the shield?” Bucky asked, puzzled. “I thought this was a friend of yours. Are we expecting trouble?” Sam fiddled with the zipper of the bag, opening it and arranging the flap just so, so that the unmistakable red and blue could be seen without being too obvious. 
“Nah, no trouble. Just…” Sam sat up and Bucky noticed his clothes were a bit… fancier than normal. “Doesn’t hurt to remind people it’s there, is all.”
Understanding dawned on Bucky. “You’re either trying to intimidate the shit out of this Archivist, or,” he smiled ruefully at his friend, “you’re trying like hell to impress ‘em.”
Sam laughed good naturedly. “I figure it can’t hurt to try a little bit of both. We’re going for a pretty big ask, after all.” He was right. They were asking for all known (and hopefully, any heretofore unknown) records related to the super-soldier serum that created both Bucky and Steve, and the Winter Soldier program that had turned Bucky into a mindless killer. It was a tall order and, depending on where those records might be and who might hold them, a potentially dangerous one. Sam swore, on his family’s boat, no less, that if there were any records out there to be found, The Archivist was the one to find them. Bucky had no problem placing his trust in Sam, but he was wary of involving any stranger, especially when it concerned the most vulnerable parts of himself.
A waitress approached their table, jeans suffocatingly tight and her top cropped entirely too high. She smiled at them both. “What can I get for you two handso—” Her eyes widened at the sight of the shield. “Oh. My. God.” She squealed at Sam. “You’re Captain America!”
Great. Here we go, thought Bucky, as the waitress began to gush and fawn all over Sam. His friend, of course, ate it up. If there was one thing Sam loved more than being recognized as the new Captain America, it was being recognized as the new Captain America by attractive women. She kept twirling a strand of shockingly pink hair with one hand and casually stroking Sam’s shoulder with the other. 
God, but these modern girls are forward. He was thankful her attention wasn’t directed at him, because Bucky never knew how to respond to brazen flirting girls were empowered with today, and his first instinct was always to run away. It was so much easier Before. The guy would take charge, make all the moves. He’d know where he stood from the jump. You’d ask a girl out, buy her flowers, take her dancing. There was beauty in the structure, in the process. But now? The whole thing seemed to be a damned free-for-all, where everything that came out of a woman’s mouth could be mistaken for a sexual invitation. It was unnerving.
Or maybe it’s been so long since any woman’s actually touched that you think everything they say and do is a come on. A voice. Not the dark one that whispered his greatest fears to him, but still, not his own, either.
“I’m ready to order!” Bucky cut in, loud and awkward, out of nowhere, to drown out the voice. Sam and the waitress startled out of their flirting.
“Yeah, of course,” said the waitress, giving him a cautious look. “What can I get for you?” 
Bucky stumbled, realizing he honestly had no idea– he hadn’t even seriously considered the menu. Well, great. “Uh… I…”
“Why don’t you just get us a couple of coffees for now, sweetheart?” Sam asked with a blinding smile, diverting the waitress’  attention away from Bucky and back on to him. “We’re still waiting on one more.” The waitress beamed back at him.
“Sure thing, Cap.” She gently brushed a hand across Sam’s shoulder before turning and walking back toward the kitchen.
Bucky’s eyes involuntarily rolled in his head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Cap?” he asked, grinning.
“Nah, nah– we’re not gonna sit and pretend you’re feeling all normal. What was that about?” Shit. The worst thing about becoming so close with Sam was that it was becoming next to impossible to hide things from him. This new Captain America was beginning to know him almost as well as the last. Almost, said a voice. But you’re keeping this from him. Some friend you are. Okay, that voice might have been Bucky’s.
He was spared from uttering a response by the tinkling of a bell, heralding the arrival of a woman through the diner's entrance. Bucky glanced up to catch her figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun, holding in one hand a massive frozen beverage. His breath hitched as she paused to inspect her phone, her teeth nibbling her lower lip in concentration. He had never met this woman before his long, long life, yet there was something so overwhelmingly familiar about her that it provoked an indescribable feeling of nostalgia within Bucky, as if he had been lost and suddenly found home.
As if in a trance, Bucky felt his eyes drawn to her clothes. The dress seemed like it had been taken from the same shops he'd visited with his sister before he enlisted. And it fit her perfectly - a sage green tea dress snugly clung to her curves and hugged all the right places, high-waisted with capped sleeves, a v-neck collar, and hidden pleats creating a skirt that cut off just below her knees. Below, cream kitten heels made her calves look defined and graceful. She looked as though she had stepped out of time and into this room, embracing him with an aura of beauty and history that was both familiar and captivating – so stunning it made Bucky’s breath catch in his throat.
His gawking was quickly halted by the raspy sound of a chair grating across the Formica floor. Sam leapt to his feet and yelled out “Hey, gorgeous! Right here!” Bucky felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him in addition to the shock he felt at his friend’s behavior. It didn't surprise him that he would act like a flirt; however, it was immensely inappropriate for him to catcall an unsuspecting woman like that.
But when the woman looked up at the sound of Sam’s voice, a wide smile broke out across her face and she headed toward their table. Her auburn hair bounced with each step, and Bucky was taken in by the way the late summer light through the window brought out streaks of warm copper in her flowing waves. He blinked. Did he seriously just think that? Yes, he couldn’t blame that thought on anyone but himself. Those clothes were messing with him.
You fucking idiot, he scolded himself. Get your shit together!
When she reached their table, she opened her arms wide and enveloped Sam in an embrace. Bucky watched as the two exchanged a hug, not really understanding why he was feeling so strangely… jealous, maybe? He’d known that they were close – after all, Sam had specifically requested her help in this endeavor – but he hadn’t expected his body to respond so aggressively to her presence.
The woman let go of Sam and held him at arms’ length, studying him. 
“You look good, Sammy. How’ve you been?”
Bucky cocked his head and mouthed “Sammy?” His friend either didn’t see or chose to ignore him.
“Can’t complain–  being Captain America and all that ain’t too bad,” Sam said with a flirtatious smirk.
And here we go again, thought Bucky, with more than his usual trace of annoyance. Where was this anger coming from?
The woman threw her head back and laughed, the sound of it like water tumbling over rocks. “I’m sure that line plays really well with the ladies, but you forget I’m immune. Captain America is, quite possibly, the least sexy thing I can imagine.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a good natured shrug and grin. “I keep forgetting you’re about the only girl on the planet who’s got her Avengers inoculations. Can’t blame a guy for trying his luck, though.”
She put a finger to her cheek in mock contemplation. “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’m up-to-date on my Thor-vaccinations, actually,” she shot back with a grin of her own. “But I’m willing to risk it if exposure were to ever occur…”
“And that is why I will never introduce you to him,” Sam joked.
“And here I thought that was because he has no idea you exist.”
Sam grabbed his heart in mock pain. “Oof, you know where to hurt me, woman!”
Their banter was natural, effortless. Bucky wondered what it was like to be able to talk to someone, especially someone of the opposite sex, with such ease.
They’re friends, said the voice. He’s not tongue-tied because, unlike some people, he’s not imaging what it would be like to fu–
Bucky shot up from his chair and held out his hand. “Hi.”
“Shit, sorry. My manners. Bucky, this is Agent–”
“I’m retired, Sammy,” she interrupted as she took Bucky’s hand and shook it. “Sarah’s fine, for polite conversation. And you’re Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.” The way she said his name rode down Bucky’s spine like an electric current. 
"Bucky's fine, for polite conversation," he managed to shoot back, smugly pleased with himself when he noticed one corner of her mouth ticked up into a ghost of a half smile.
“It’s so good to finally meet you, Bucky. I’ve heard so many stories about you, I feel like I already know you” she said, letting go of Bucky’s hand and nodding to their chairs. “Shall we?” The three sat down, Bucky shoving his hand under the table. He stretched out his fingers, focusing on the sensation of where their skin had touched. It was warm and strangely comforting, the way a forgotten song might linger in one’s memory. She’d heard things? About him? From who, Sam? God, what? None of it could have been good.
Their waitress returned then with their coffees, and if she thought she’d have the opportunity to resume her flirtations with Sam, she was sorely disappointed. 
“What can I get you?” she asked Sarah, rather brusquely, Bucky thought. It was as if she resented their companion’s presence as competition for Sam’s attention.
“Nothing; thanks,” Sarah said, and if she noticed the waitresses hostility, she gave no sign. “I can’t stay long.” Bucky wasn’t sure what he had expected from this meeting, but the idea that it would be over quickly was suddenly a disappointment. He watched her as she took a long sip from a straw plunged into a pile of whipped cream in her cup. He noticed her eyes were incredibly blue.
"Did you want some?" she asked, holding out her cup to him. Bucky realized she had mistaken his scrutiny of her to be an interest in her drink.
"Nah, man," said Sam. "You'd better not. Your old geezer system isn't used to handling that amount of sugar. You’ll get diabetes."
He was probably right– everything these days was so full of sugar that Bucky didn’t know how people could stand it– but he was emboldened by the offer, and didn’t enjoy the idea of her equating him with an “old geezer,” so he shot Sam an arched look and accepted the cup from her. He licked his lips as he drew the straw to him; there was something incredibly intimate about putting his mouth where hers had just been a moment before. He gave a hard pull.
And instantly gagged. The intense sweetness of it cloyed at his mouth and he took a swallow from his own cup of bitter, black coffee to cleanse the taste. Sam erupted in laughter, finding the entire thing hilarious.
"Gah!--" Bucky thrust the beverage back at her, "What even is that?”  As she took back the cup, Bucky flinched self consciously, realizing he had just returned the drink with his metal arm. He was relieved to see that she didn’t seem to notice, or at the very least chose not to acknowledge it at all.
"It’s a Pumpkin Spice Frozen Coffee. And maybe that makes me a Basic Bitch,” she cut off Sam, who was obviously on the verge of making some comment to that effect, “then so be it, because it’s fucking delicious.” She made 'fucking' sound both incredibly innocent and yet highly suggestive at the same time, and suddenly Bucky couldn't help but notice the slight inward cave of her cheeks as she sucked at the straw… He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Why was it so warm in here all of a sudden? 
"Well, now you got him all hot and bothered, Sarah." Sam casually draped his arm around Bucky's shoulders, and Bucky was mortified – was he so completely transparent? What was he even doing, thinking like that?
"Our guy here isn't used to ladies talking with the mouths of sailors."
Bucky let out a slow breath in relief. Yes, his discomfort was obviously over the profanity coming out of her mouth, and definitely not the intrusive thought of something else entirely going into it.
Sarah just shrugged. "Yeah, my Pops is a fogey about language, too." Bucky winced at being compared to her grandfather, but she gave him a playful wink and Bucky felt something low in his stomach turn over. But the comment seemed to shift something in her and her demeanor turned serious. "So, boys, to business, then? I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a time crunch." She pulled out a notebook, pen at the ready.
“We’re trying to locate some documents,” Sam began.
She rolled her eyes playfully. “No shit. I don’t expect you to call me when you’re looking to run guns, Sammy.”
Bucky blanched. “Is… that a thing you do?” 
Sarah shrugged a single shoulder. “Not so much anymore.” She was joking, clearly. He was sixty percent sure she was joking. Turning back to Sam, she asked: “Any reason why you can’t hop onto the library’s online catalog and start your search there, or do you need me to explain Boolean Operators to you again?”
Bucky had absolutely no idea what Boolean Operators were, but he didn’t think he’d mind having her explain them to him at all.
“Oh god, no, please,” said Sam, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Besides, I don’t think the New York Public Library’s going to have access to the kind of databases we’re after.”
Sarah groaned in frustration and closed her notebook. “I’m retired Sammy. You know what that means, right? I. don’t. work. there. anymore. Besides, Romanoff uploaded everything they had back in ‘14; whatever you’re looking for should be all over the public domain by now.” She said Natasha’s name with a trace of disdain that didn’t go unnoticed by either Bucky or Sam.
“Hey,” Sam began defensively, “she was just doing what she had to expo–”
“She exposed a lot of covers and it got a lot of good people killed, Sam,” Sarah spat back with an anger Bucky hadn’t anticipated. “There were better ways to handle it. Smarter ways.”
“Nobody thought–” Sam tried again.
“No, that’s the problem, isn’t it? None of you ever think. Avengers just do, right? And leave everyone else to clean up their fucking mess?” They were losing ground here, and quickly.
“Sarah, please,” Sam practically begged her. “You and I both know that what Natasha released was only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what S.H.I.E.L.D.’s actually got. What Stark had.”
“Well, someone’s been running his goddamn mouth,” she muttered angrily. “I can’t imagine he was lucid when he told you that.” 
Stark? Tony? That couldn’t be the he they were referring to– Tony’d been dead for two years. Hard to be running your mouth in that case. Sam seemed to know exactly who she meant, though.
“Not exactly, no,” he told her. “But it’s not like I went fishing for it, Sarah. He just let it slip, and that you’ve still got the clearance, if you want it; you just need the access. You know they’d piss themselves with delight if you walked your ass back in the door, and not a single person’s going to bat an eye if you just so happen to browse through the Archives when you did.”
“You think that ‘access’ is just going to come for free, Sam?” she asked. “There’ll be strings attached. There always are.” She stood up and shoved her notebook haphazardly into her bag. “I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I won’t do it.”
Sam stood up and reached out to stop her, grabbing her arm.
“Sarah, please. Don’t do it for me, or even Bucky.” Sarah glanced in his direction, but Bucky couldn’t meet her stare. “Do it for him,” Sam practically begged. “You know how much it would mean to your—” Sarah looked at his hand on her arm and forcefully tore herself from his grip before Sam could finish his sentence.
“That’s a fucking low blow, Wilson. Especially now.” And she turned her back to them both and walked out the door, leaving the bell clanging in her wake.
“Shit. Shit!” Sam slunk back into his chair, defeated. “I figured she wouldn’t like it, but I didn’t think she’d go full ‘Wilson’ on me. Maybe hit ‘Samuel.’ I at least thought she’d hear us out, let me persuade her.”
“Should we follow her?” Bucky asked. “Try to change her mind?”
“No. We try that right now and she’s likely to shoot us.” Bucky raised an eyebrow.
“Literally, man. Nah, she’s gotta cool off. We gotta re-approach from another angle, but the hell if I know what that’s going to be.” He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “I’m sorry, man. I pushed too hard, too fast. I should have eased into her.” Bucky deliberately shoved Sam’s phrasing out of his mind.
“What’s her story, Sam?” It was more than professional courtesy that led Bucky to ask. He found himself thirsty for any drop of knowledge about her Sam could give.
“Sarah Grant,” Sam said with a sigh. “She’s ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., was with them until the whole HYDRA fiasco thing,” he shot Bucky a look, as if to imply it was his HYDRA fiasco “thing.” Bucky scowled at him. “She transferred to the C.I.A. after S.H.I.E.L.D disbanded, but watercooler gossip has it she was running side missions for Fury while he worked on rebuilding. She’s never confirmed it for me, though. She was on assignment oversees when the Snap happened, and by the time she got un-dusted and made it back stateside, she decided to hang it all up and become a librarian, of all fucking things.” Sam’s tone belied his absolute disbelief that someone would transition from Special Agent to Librarian, and while Bucky did find it strange, he was also intrigued. What would cause a person to make such a drastic life change?
“So, if she’s retired, what makes you think she can just walk back in and get us what we need?” he asked.
“Man, if S.H.I.E.L.D. had royalty, she’d be their damn princess.” Sam took in Bucky’s confused expression and elaborated further: “Her family’s been top brass at S.H.I.E.L.D. from the beginning. She was practically raised with the expectation to run that place. Hell, she’s probably got tiny little S.H.I.E.L.D.s running through her blood. It’s in her DNA.”
“She didn’t seem very thrilled at the idea of a homecoming,” Bucky reminded him. “Why give it up?”
“Yeah, well… Things changed; S.H.I.E.L.D.’s not S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, is it? At least not the S.H.I.E.L.D. she grew up believing in; it’s got to bother her. She gave her whole life to that damn organization and had to watch it eat itself from the inside out, like a cancer.” He looked down at the shield, still lying in its case at their feet, and Bucky knew they were both thinking of the day they watched John Walker use it to bludgeon a Flag-Smasher to death.
“It was a symbol for her, of what could be possible if good people kept doing the right thing. Somewhere along the line, that stopped meaning something.” Bucky understood her reluctance to help them, then. If it meant returning to an organization that had betrayed her, why would she do that for him, someone she didn’t even know? He couldn’t fault her for that.
“We’ll figure something else out,” he told his friend. “It was a solid lead, though, and I appreciate you trying.” Then, because he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “So, how do you know her, anyway?”
Sam stared down at his feet, as though something incredibly interesting was going on with his shoes. “Oh, yeah… Um… Her Pops was a veteran I used to council, back in the day. We met through him.” Bucky could tell when Sam was being deliberately cagey, and while he didn’t really want to ask, he had to know…
“You two ever… ?” he gestured vaguely.
Sam barked out a laugh. “Oh, God, no! Her Pops would literally beat my ass! He’s old, but he’s still got an arm on him. Uh uh, she’s on the no-fly list, man. Damn shame, though,” he added, fondly. “Girl can fill out a skirt.”
“Sam.”
“What? A man can appreciate.” Sam grinned.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he grabbed the shield case. “Let’s get outta here.”
They stepped out of the diner and out into the early afternoon light, the sun casting a warm glow on the city around them. Bucky looked back as they walked away, though, he couldn’t help but think of the intriguing woman who had just stormed out of the restaurant and wondered if they’d ever find a way to get her to help them.
The voice in his head was telling him he hadn’t seen the last of Sarah Grant.
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bellaxgiornata · 1 day
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I still haven't forgotten about the last few asks from the celebration the other week! I will absolutely answer them all, but I've randomly been back on a writing kick so I'm just going with that at the moment while I still have time and inspiration! Currently Frank is on my brain again and I'm trying to get a draft for Neighbors finished this week and hopefully one for You're Safe With Me afterwards.
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But I've got some important information about story updates and my upcoming writing hiatus below the cut for those who want to know what'll be going on with me for the next few months!
Now is probably a good time to mention that once baby finally comes, I'll be taking a little writing hiatus. I'll be 38 weeks on Saturday which means little dude is coming any day now. For a few weeks after that I'll be focusing on baby and my family and recovering. I also realistically know I'm going to be soooo sleep deprived between a toddler and a newborn for a bit. Though my hope is that a few months later, especially when my son starts preschool, I can maybe get back into writing slowly. And obviously as baby gets a bit older he will hopefully start sleeping better so I can get back into things again--because you can guarantee I'll still be feral waiting for Born Again to come out and then afterwards.
But that's why I've been stockpiling rough drafts of stories for a little while now. I'm currently at 8 rough drafts and I've got probably 8 more in varying states of being written. My hope is that I'll be able to occasionally work on editing something up and eventually posting it for y'all. I won't have a schedule though because it'll just be whenever I have something ready and time to post it. I'm also hoping to maybe read some more fics finally and work on a fic rec list to spread the love while my brain is tired (if I can manage reading...).
I appreciate all the love y'all have given me and my stories and I appreciate those of you who will still be patiently waiting for updates while things are changing over here for me! 💖 I still plan to be active on tumblr, too, so I'm not disappearing!
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enden-agolor · 2 days
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can I just say that the forest deity au you have is amazing
I just love the dymanic between Lukas and Jesse!
With Jesse being casted out and having all of his joy taken away from him, leaving nothing but darkness in his poor soul. On top of that, he's being forced to isolate himself from society with only an Allay, mother nature and the animals to comfort him whilst he lives alone in the forest.
And Lukas, an author traveling the world who just thinks the town is misunderstanding Jesse and gives him a chance, wanting him to feel some love and light. He's is willing to share it and give him a chance, despite what the town says and how Jesse may appear.
It's just beautiful and I can't wait to see what's in store for it 🥹🥹🥹🥹
Dude I can't even begin to tell you how INSANE I am about this au. I'm so unbelievably thankful and relieved people like you and others actually like it. I almost didn't post about it because I thought it might be erm, let's say, cringe? But no seriously I'm very glad I did in the end.
Jesse in this au is so special to me, and I'm literally dying to begin writing the fic which I'm hoping to start next month actually 👀
For now I'll give you some lore about it to keep you guys fed until the first chapters come out.
I talked about it in a discord server a little bit earlier, but in this au, Jesse is very much reminiscent of the Warden of the Deep Dark. He's able to cause darkness to fluctuate throughout the forest whenever he's close by, both as a mechanism to scare people off or to confuse hunters of their surroundings to make them easier to corner. Another special thing about him is that his cloak is made of a dark moss that shimmers like skulk in darkness, but appears as a mossy pelt in the light. His godly essence keeps the forest dark and foggy, creating an atmosphere that looks somewhat like this:
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(just found these images on google for reference)
He also carries a soul lantern with him from time to time. Typically at night time. It's one of the reasons a lot of people refer to him as a ghost or a demon haunting the forest, despite him being very much a living, breathing entity.
His allay is special. Lukas likes to call them Berry, because the bright blue of it's little body as well as it's bubbly and energetic nature reminds him of blueberries, being small and cute, and good for you of course.
I think that's all the info I'll give for now though 😁 Tysm for this ask! It made my day.
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lazywrites · 2 days
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Hey I was wondering if you could write a piece about my OC Dina Khoury x Kurt wagner, I'll be giving her info in jot note from because that's my best way of doing it.
I wasn't sure which info would be useful for whatever you plan to write, but ig having the whole picture helps
-Dina was born to human x-gene carrier parents, a Palestinian mother and an afro Egyptian father. She also has an older brother who tormented her as a child.
-she was born into a strict religious household(Christian) and suffered spiritual abuse because of them, being shamed often(religion is a very spiky topic for her because of it but it doesn't effect how she feels about Kurt)
-she ran away from home at 10 after discovering her powers, which unfortunately lead to her being snatched off of the streets and thrown into mutant fighting rings.
-she has scars all over her body from these fights and feels sickened looking at them, for some reason her powers can't get rid of them.
-after escaping the ring she was discovered have dead in the street by Magneto and her took her in as his daughter.
-dina believed in magneto's cause after hearing about it and reflecting on how she doesn't want to continue experiencing like the way she has been as a mutant, why should she settle for being tolerated?
- appearance wise Dina has dark skin, dark brown(almost black)eyes, and light blond 4a texture hair thats in a different style almost every day.
-she loves wearing hair accessories like loc charms and jewels hanging by gold twin wrapped around the ends her braids/locs, and she wears purple all the time with different shades and color pairings.
-she's trans mtf and used her reality manipulation abilities to make the physical transition easier.
-She's funny, asertive, intense, and will go above and beyond to protect her loved ones, usually violently if the situation allows it; she's very adamant about the rights of mutants and is not going to be undermined in anyway shape or form much like her adoptive father.
I hope you like Dina and I hope you can come up with an interesting fic idea for her and Kurt. If you have anything you wanna ask me about feel free to message me😊😁
I had a lot of fun designing this character, and she's got such an entertaining backstory as well, i'm inclined to draw her later sometime again
sorry for the delay this week has been especially busy, if anyone else wants me to design an outfit for their OC just send an ask, i love drawing superhero outfits so much.
You are free to color it how you like, i don't know which colors you would've wanted her outfit to be besides the jacket, thanks for telling me her story!
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Also she's into this weird little guy idk why lol
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
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Smell Check [Easy: Failure]
MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 1 (part 2 - part 3)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#disco elysium#MDZS Disco Elysium AU#So sad I didn't manage to get this comic out on the 15th (pd-mdzs's 8 month anniversary and DE's 4th year anniversary) but I'm here *now*#I have a very extensive and detailed MDZS Disco Elysium AU that I am Not Normal About.#I've seen a few other people point out the potential in a crossover (true) but they make the mistake in having it be set in 51!#A true crossover would take place closer to The Antecentennial Revolution!#Disco Elysium did not go that hard on its cool lore for people to only make surface level crossovers!!!#One day I'll write the fic or post my notes. I don't know who would read it but it tickles *my* brain and that's enough.#No spoilers for DE (here or in comments (please)) but please consider....Magpie Wei Wuxian B*) On his way to be an innocent.#I do think there is a good chance a chunk of the MDZS readership would enjoy DE but...it's also not a game I easily recommend#It's more of an experience you have to marinate over. It's dark in ways that are off putting to some people.#It makes you feel like a very bad person all the time. It gets extremely personal if you allow yourself to be honest in your answers#and it's also the game that saved my life. My life was truly forever changed after playing disco elysium.#If I recommend it to people it's a badge of the trust I have in you to appreciate something dear to me B'*)#If you decide to play: PLEASE go in as blind as possible. You will regret spoiling yourself.#edit: this is based on real disco elysium dialogue. HDB has many canon kinks but this is not one of them
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sparrow-in-the-field · 11 months
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I just like to think about how once they're officially dating, Keeley sets up a group chat with the three of them, and like 96% of it is just her and Jamie texting with the other 4% being Roy's 1-2 word replies or thumbs up emojis (basically just agreeing to date night plans or assuring them he's still alive).
And then one time out of the blue Roy sends a selfie. Jamie and Keeley collectively lose their shit.
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lennsart · 4 months
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Most of the wips I write these days can be summarized by "Legend gets hurt in fucked-up ways, and then he gets hugs" :)
(I'm fine shhh)
But I had this sitting in my drafts, and it's like the comfort part to a hurt/comfort, except I didn't like the hurt part, so posting this probably doesn't make sense, but.. I just wanted the boys to hug
Context + snippet under the cut !
Basically, Legend has been abducted for ransom (I think it was inspired by a whumptober prompt) and he didn't have a stellar time there. The rest of the chain rescues him, but they're worried he'll wake up confused at night, so they decide to watch over him. And they're supposed to take turn, but they all kinda end up sleeping next to him :)
Have this little Four POV that I quite like and feels like it can be posted without context :
Four expected to see two people in the room. One awake, that he would be about to replace, and the other asleep, that he would watch.
He hadn't expected three sleeping dudes.
He had to pause and go back to the hallway to laugh, muffling his chuckles in his sleeve. Of course Sky would have wanted to hug Legend and would have fallen asleep. Of course Hyrule would have let them, and promptly fallen asleep as well.
When he came back in and carefully closed behind him, he noticed with fondness that Legend, at least, looked perfectly content. He was sleeping on his back, Sky hugging his right arm, and he held Hyrule's hand with his left.
The traveler was mostly on the ground, head and arms on the mattress. Four winced ; that couldn't be comfortable.
Alright, he gave up (as if he hadn't as soon as he noticed them). He'd watch them three sleep, if only to gush about how cute they were tomorrow.
(He hoped Wind would bring his pictobox for his turn of watch in the morning.)
He got on Hyrule's side, and gently nudged him. This one hummed sleepily.
" - Shh, don't wake them up. " Four whispered. " Hop in.
- What...? " the traveler asked in confusion.
Four bit back a laugh at how asleep he sounded.
" - Get in the bed. " he ordered.
Hyrule may not really understand what was happening, but he didn't need to be told twice. He climbed in, wincing when he moved his legs, and abandoned Legend's hand to hug his waist, resting his head on his stomach.
The veteran softly hummed, but didn't fully wake up.
Four sat on one of the scarce empty spots of the bed, giggling to himself. He was happy that this watch had taken such a sweet turn ; he had expected to get lost in his own mind, trying to understand how they could have let one member of their group go through that. 
...
Instead, he had three sleepyheads cuddling, and he would trade for nothing in the world.
The last free spot on the mattress, above Hyrule and next to Lege, was probably too small for someone to sleep there.
...Well. He was small too, and mostly slept curled up anyway.
But, no ! He had decided he'd stay awake. No matter how comfortable those three looked, no matter how much he'd like to hug the vet, too, he would fulfill his mission.
Legend's hand opened and closed in his sleep, and he extended it further. Four blinked, and reached with his left hand. 
In a second, he was trapped, Legend satisfied with the hand he found and holding tight onto it.
...
Alright, that wouldn't be comfortable to stay sitting in this condition. Plus Legend looked like he wanted the smith to stay, and his goal had always been to watch for him, right ?
He curled up in the little free spot, his hand still in Legend’s, and definitely did not fall asleep in a matter of minutes.
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mothswitheyes · 2 months
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I think Riz can actually use magic and the magical gear is all bells and whistles. In a party of so many casters, literally ALL of them have magic now, I think he feels a lot more disconnected from the 'magic' then the rest of them, where it feels very connected to things like faith and art and being the oracle.
Magic is just something he does, he uses, like he uses his sword and his gun and his hands, it's a tool, it's a method to getting a job done, but thinking "I can spellcast" while everyone has this Big Reason for being able to do it is difficult, illogical, so it's easier to conceptualize it as ACTUALLY a tool, a bracer and a necktie and glasses and beaded bracelets, and not just verbal, somatic, material.
When he casts compelled duel on Kalina, he explicitly uses Nothing to do it, he says he calls upon his connection to Kalina since his birth but that still inherently is magic, he casts a magic spell with nothing but pure will, and it works! There is never a question about it working! Both because the items are inherently flavoring, they don't, on paper, actually exist, and because Riz has magic.
I don't think this is something that'd ever really come up or be canonized, as it just seems to be an off-topic thing for Riz's arc right now, but I think the idea adds to Riz's personality, and it the natural, funny conclusion to "I HAVE to wear it, it's just so practical."
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
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welcome to eden
this is a love letter. inspired by this song
As soon as Steve picks up the phone, she knows she’s making a mistake.
“Rob?”
“No,” she says instead of hanging up like she should. 
“Nancy?” He sounds more alert now, and she can picture him standing up straighter, calling to attention at the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 
“Not really,” she sniffs, hating herself for it. “I—can we talk?”
He’ll say no. He’ll say no, because it’s one in the morning and he was probably asleep before the phone rang and she shouldn’t be asking to talk years after she broke his heart and didn’t even remember—
“Of course,” he says, and Nancy could kick herself. “Over the phone?”
“No. Not over the phone. I’m sorry, it can wait, you can go back to bed.”
She hears him huff a laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “I wasn’t in bed,” he assures her. “Am I picking you up?”
Tears spring anew to her eyes. “If that’s okay.”
“Works for me,” he says. “See you soon.”
“See you,” she echoes, and hangs up. 
She spends the time it takes pacing quietly in front of the front door, berating herself for using him like this. But she needs to talk to him, and the sooner it’s over with the better. 
Headlights cut through the window way too soon, and she nearly throws herself out the door. 
She gives him a look when she opens the car door, telling him she knows how many traffic laws he must have broken to get here this quick. He just grins in return, ready to point out the felony in her closet. 
“Where are we going?” He asks, and her heart clenches. He’s so good. He’s so good, and she couldn’t-can’t love him like he wants. She has to tell him. 
Tonight probably wasn’t the best night for this conversation, but her skin feels like it’s peeling off and the faster she says something the quicker it will be over with and she can go back to how it was before. Back when she didn’t have anyone to talk to, because Robin might never speak to her again after she breaks her best friend's heart for the second time. 
Just rip the bandaid off, Nance. 
“I don’t know,” she says instead. Maybe she’s a coward. “A field? Somewhere I can see the stars.”
“I can do that.”
The drive goes by in silence, Nancy staring stubbornly out the window. She can feel Steve periodically checking on her, and she knows he wants to know why she called. She can’t open her mouth to say it in the suffocating enclosure of the car. She rolls down a window. 
They get to a field almost out of Hawkins, and the car is barely in park before she’s climbing out, going around to sit on the hood. Steve cuts the engine and follows. 
She still doesn’t say anything. She called him to have a talk, why can’t she just open her stupid mouth—
“Nancy?” Steve asks, gentle in a way that used to make her melt. She pulls her legs to her chest, feeling vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”
“Jonathan and I broke up,” she finally gets out. 
“Oh shit.” He looks genuinely surprised. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever.” Except she’d thought otherwise. She thought they were Nancy and Jonathan, the two of them against the world. She hunches her shoulders. “We never talk anymore, and he was pulling away from me, and he was lying to me for months-“ she shakes her head, clearing the anger she feels at that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m starting to realize there’s things I need to work on, too. A lot to work on, actually.”
“I don’t know what that could be,” he says, flashing her a smile filled with boyish, roguish charm. “You’re already the best person I know.”
She sniffs, and suddenly she’s crying into her knees, shoulders shaking. He freezes beside her, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leans in for a second, chasing the comfort, before remembering what she came here to do and ripping away violently. 
“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t—I can’t—this isn’t what I—“
“Hey,” he soothes. “Slow down. Let it out.”
She wipes her eyes, suddenly furious. “I don’t want to date you,” she says, finally looking him in the eyes. “I don’t—I’m sorry for calling you. I just remembered how much better you used to make me feel, but then I realized that’s like…really shitty of me.”
“Why?” He asks, as if Nancy didn’t come out here to break his heart again. “I want to make you feel better. I like knowing I can make you feel better.”
“I don’t want to lead you on,” she says, mouth screwing up. “That’s why I called you out here. And I know it’s shitty of me—“
“Nancy, you’re not leading me on. I…I don’t want to date you either.”
That stops her in her tracks. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he echoes quietly. “I—don’t take this the wrong way, okay, ‘cause I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole saying it, but, uh, I can’t do that again. And even outside of that, I don’t like you that way anymore. Uh, sorry.”
She tries not to sag at the overwhelming relief she feels at that. 
“Are you sure?” She studies him closely, trying to see if he’s saying this for her sake or if he means it. “Back in the Upside-Down, and when we were fighting Venca, it seemed…”
He grimaces, and Nancy thinks if it wasn’t dark she’d see the beginning of an embarrassed flush on his ears. “I…may have been feeling things,” he admits. “I was testing the waters, I guess. I started feeling nostalgic, and you were there, and everyone was encouraging me, and it all just ended up in this weird…feelings soup. Sorry.”
“You said you wanted to have six kids with me,” Nancy reminds him. “And travel the country in a Winnebago.”
He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he says, “so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That had to be so weird for you.”
“It was kind of sweet?” She tries, not letting her relief show. Not yet. 
“We haven’t been together in years, and I decided to tell you I used to dream about you having my babies. How do you deal with me?”
“Well it helps to know you were dropped on your head. Puts everything in perspective.”
“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze. Too earnest, too caring for someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s always tried so hard. To woo her, to be a better person, to keep back the vicious streak she still sees in him. “I meant it, when I said I loved you,” he tells her gently, no sign of that cruelty that had him painting her as a whore for the whole town to see. “Back then, I mean. I just wanted you to know that.”
She wants to cry. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”
“It’s okay,” he says like he means it. He leans back against the windshield, looking at the sky. After a moment, she copies him. 
They watch the stars together, and the air feels clearer. 
“Where do we go from here?” She asks, afraid of the answer. 
“What do you mean?”
“What happens with us now?”
“Well,” he says gingerly, like he’s testing the waters. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend.”
Friends. She doesn’t know that she and Steve have ever been friends, not properly. Even after the apologies they made to each other, she doesn’t know that she could call what they had friendship. It wasn’t substantial on its own, needing Jonathan as the barrier between them. When it fell, so did they. 
“I haven’t had a friend in a while,” she admits. “Robin is kind of a novelty for me. She’s amazing.”
It’s funny, in a way. She was so jealous of Robin, of how close she was with Steve in a way Nancy wasn’t. She’d thought, at first, that it was because they were so clearly dating. After Robin told her they weren’t, she realized how badly she’d just wanted friends. She missed hanging out with Steve, missed his laugh and his squint and his bitchy attitude. She’d hoped that eventually they’d get to that point, was sure they were almost there before Starcourt. In a way, she’d been jealous of Robin for stealing Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. Steve had found a friend, a real friend who hadn’t cheated on him or slept with his girlfriend. She couldn’t begrudge him that. 
She just missed him. 
“She is, isn’t she?” Steve grins, but sobers up quickly. “I didn’t really think about that. How lonely you must be, since…”
She’s already shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t reach out.” 
“I didn’t exactly reach out either.”
They fall silent again, at a loss for words. Barb’s death, as always, the canyon between them. 
Finally Nancy huffs. “It’s both of our faults,” she declares, “or neither of our faults. I don’t know. I just missed you.”
“Well shit, Nance, I missed you too,” he says, touched. 
“I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend too, you know,” she says, glancing at him. He smiles. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Nancy Wheeler, I would be honored to be friends with you,” he says, and sticks out his hand to shake, like they’re meeting for the first time. 
She stares at him, and starts laughing. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
She shakes his hand. 
Max has always felt like a mirror. One Nancy wanted to smash, pull her out of the shards of her reflective grief and hug. Stroke her hair the way she wanted someone to do for her and say you’ll get through this. So Max could hear it from someone who knows. 
Except Nancy doesn’t know anything. Still drowns in her guilt, the ball and chain dragging her into the depths. She can’t help when she’s still such a mess, three years later. 
Her hands clench when Mike says Max is pulling away from Lucas. She wishes she could look her in the eye and tell her you don’t have to be me. You can be better. 
She’s Mike’s friend. They barely know each other outside of a quick hello as they cross paths or fighting monsters. Max has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need her friend’s weird older sister butting in to tell her how to mourn the right way. 
Nancy just hopes she’s getting out of bed. Remembering to eat. Brushing her teeth. She had more cavities in the year after Barb died than she’d ever had in her life, and she knows Max doesn’t have insurance. 
Now, sitting next to Max’s hospital bed, Nancy wishes she’d reached out. 
With school back comes studying, and with studying comes Eddie Munson, in all his super-senior glory. Nancy is going to get him a diploma if it kills her. 
He laughs when she tells him so. “Shit, Wheeler,” he says. “The day something manages to get you is the day this shithole goes down for good.”
Robin turns down her offer to form a study group. “I’m pretty sure if I joined, I’d just distract Eddie, and let him distract me, and we’d end up throwing things at each other until you killed us. Sorry. Steve’s going to help me study for finals, though!”
She looks at Steve, eyebrow raised. She’s pretty sure it’s fair to be dubious, since she was the reason Steve passed his finals in the first place. 
“I’m her rubber duck,” he says as an explanation, and she nods in understanding. 
Her mom isn’t about to let her study alone with a boy in her room, though, and especially not a boy like Eddie, so she drags him to the library three times a week. He complains, he bitches, he tells her he doesn’t care about his fucking history class anymore. She just hands him a Rubik’s Cube she found to keep his hands busy as she quizzes him. 
Three sessions in, he slowly puts a worksheet down and screams into his hands. 
“Stop that!” She kicks him in the shin. “If you get me kicked out of the library I’m never forgiving you.”
“I can’t do it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking stupid, Nancy. I can’t even get past question two. Is this torture? Did I die and go to hell? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Doomed to repeat high school for the rest of eternity?”
“Stupid” her ass. She knows what kind of work goes into those campaigns of his, has absently flipped through his annotated fantasy novels and left feeling as if she’d seen the story anew. Plus, she went and made a tape of everyone’s favorite songs, just in case, and she knew damn well how quickly he’d taught himself to play the song he did in the Upside-Down. “Stupid” and “Eddie Munson” don’t belong in the same sentence, much less belong in the same space in his brain. She hates Hawkins High just a little bit more for it. “Stop being dramatic. What are you stuck on?”
“Fucking nothing! I can’t focus, it’s driving me fucking insane. I keep trying, I swear, but it’s like I can’t even read anymore! This always happens, I swear to God it’s killing me more than the fucking demobats ever did.”
“Don’t joke about that,” she snaps. “You’re smart, Eddie, you know that. You just need to try.”
His face twists, and she realizes that was the wrong thing to say. 
“Oh, thank you, Miss Wheeler, why haven’t I thought of that? Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll get out of your perfect hair now—“
“Sit down,” she protests as he gathers up his stuff. “Eddie, I’ll help you work through the problem, okay? Just sit down, please.”
“No, Nancy!” He swings around, eyes wild. “It’s what everyone always says. Just sit still, stop doodling, be quiet, pay attention, try fucking harder…I tried, okay! I’ve been trying, I tried for fifteen fucking years, and I can’t do it! I might as well just drop out and get it over with. I’m fucking sick of this.”
“Okay!” She feels herself getting riled up. “You want to fail so bad, fine! I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want.”
“I will!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
They stare at each other, not moving. Finally Eddie storms off in a huff, flinging open the library door in a grand gesture she pretends not to see. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she can ignore it. 
She pretends not to notice when he comes slinking back five minutes later, shuffling his feet. 
“Sorry.”
“For what?” She asks primly, going over her notes. 
“Nancy, please.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry too. I’m just…frustrated.”
“I’ve been told I’m pretty frustrating,” he offers. 
“It’s not…”
“It is,” he says, sitting down. “It’s okay. God knows I piss myself off with this shit.”
She studies him, looking over his defeated face like he’s one of her flashcards. “You’re trying your best,” she says, sounding it out. She can’t really make sense of it. After all, trying her best has always been straight A’s, not stopping until she knew everything she needed to and more. 
“It’s not good enough.”
“It will be,” she says. “You’ve got me this time.”
“Listen, I know you’re trying to help—“
“Do you want fries?”
“What?” He blinks at her, shocked, as she starts packing up her things.  
“We’re not getting anywhere today. Sometimes you have to step back, and come back with a clearer head.” Usually she locks her door and cleans her guns, the repetitive motion soothing her mind until she can think again, but she has a feeling that won’t work for Eddie. 
“I usually just give up.”
“I don’t. Get your backpack, we’re going to the diner. Dinner’s on me tonight.”
At the diner, he makes her laugh so hard soda comes out her nose. The next day, they go to the library again. 
After a couple of days, he solves the cube. After three weeks, he nearly kicks her door down rushing to show her the B he got on a test. 
Two months later, he throws his cap into the air and his cane on the ground. Swings her around, both of them laughing. 
“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” He crows. “Achieving the impossible yet again!”
“Eddie, put me down!” She shrieks gleefully as he stumbles. She barely makes it back to solid ground before two more bodies are slamming into them, Steve and Robin whooping in their ears. 
It was weird, to see Steve and Robin effortlessly communicate the way she and Jonathan always had and have it be so unabashedly unromantic. She’d always thought that knowing someone like that was a sign you were meant to be, and they did it while still loudly proclaiming Platonic with a capital P. 
She and Jonathan didn’t do it much anymore. It was like dancing to a song that was always a beat off, syncing for just one moment before stumbling again, unsure that they were still allowed this. 
She’d known him better than anyone, once, and he’d known her the same. Now she wonders if that was ever true. 
“So,” Eddie says, throwing himself onto her bed. “Steve.”
She sits in her desk chair, raising an eyebrow. “What about him?”
“You broke up with Jonathan, right? Are you going to get back with him? I thought you would, but it's been months and neither of you said anything.”
“No,” she says. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s not what either of us want.”
“Really?” He rolls over, eyes searching. “What happened there, anyway? With both your boys. I’m a nosy little asshole, and I wanna hear it from you.”
It makes her laugh, the way he admits to it so freely. He grins wolfishly at her, baring his teeth in a grin. That’s probably why she tells him the truth. 
“I wasn’t okay, when I was with Steve,” she says honestly. “I was distant, grieving…I was a mess, and I stayed with him because I didn’t know what else to do. With Jonathan…I was getting closure, I was healing, and things were good between us. They were so good, but after a while, we just started to…deteriorate. I don’t know if we lost momentum, or if the stress just got to us, but we started fighting more and more,” She traces the desk with a finger, remembering the sour taste of Oliver Twist on her tongue. It was a shitty thing to say. “I thought we’d figured it out, for a little while, but then we just…stopped talking. I think, maybe if we’d talked more, we could have worked it out. But I’m…not upset that we didn’t, you know?”
It’s a different kind of loneliness when your partner won’t talk to you. It was different than grieving, different than not having anyone to talk to at all. Because even when she didn’t have friends, she had Jonathan. And then, slowly, she didn’t anymore. 
“Nancy, you’re one of my best friends, so-”
“Steve is your best friend.”
“Steve is my best best friend,” she agrees. “But he’s also more than that? Like, I think we’re literally soulmates. Platonic with a capital P soulmates, but, like, it feels like more than friendship sometimes? Like sometimes it’s like he can literally feel my bad days even when I haven’t talked to him yet. He told me once he just knows sometimes. It’s like I hit my hip on my desk and he felt it, but emotionally. It’s wild. It’s like the drugs literally combined our minds. Where was I going with this?”
“I don’t know,” she says, slightly bewildered. She wants to ask how they do that, but Robin barrels forward. 
“Right. So outside of mine and Steve’s platonic more-than-friendship, you’re kind of my best friend? And you’re, like, the coolest person I know.”
She blinks. She’s not sure she’s ever been described as cool before. 
After Barb, Nancy tried to cut her own hair. 
Her mom found her in the bathroom, unshed tears in her eyes and hair a mess on the sink and floor. 
She hadn’t laughed, hadn't said oh, honey, your beautiful hair. Just clucked her tongue and took the scissors from her hands. Stepped behind her and took over, took the uneven mess and made it something good, something presentable. 
She didn’t say anything until she was done, setting the scissors on the counter. “Sometimes,” she said, wetting her lips. “Sometimes we need a change, before we can move forward.”
The closer she gets to Emerson, the more she feels like she’s letting someone down. Mike. Max. Jonathan. All the people who have relied on her, all the people who trusted her to fight.
In a strange turn of events, her mom is the only one she doesn’t feel is disappointed in her. Her mom is more excited about college than she is sometimes. Chattering excitedly over dishes about the classes she’s going to take as Nancy dries and smiles and tries not to feel like the ground is being pulled from under her feet.
This is everything she’s ever wanted. Why does it feel so wrong?
She takes Eddie to the gun range, because having a gun in her hands has always made her feel safer. More in control. More like the badass protector she wants to be, than the scared little girl she feels sometimes. 
Eddie stares down the scope of the gun and shoots like he has experience, but doesn’t hit a single bullseye. 
“Your hands are shaking.”
“I’m in a fucking gun range and a bunch of small town hicks were hunting me not too long ago,” he snaps, taking another shot and missing the target completely. He swears and changes the magazine. “Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge.” 
She hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You didn’t have to come,” she says. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, you should know how to use one. Just in case.”
“I know how to use a gun,” he rolls his eyes. 
“You know how to shoot one.” She looks from him to the target pointedly. “Not the same thing.”
“Deep. I could really feel the judgement there. Tell me, is there anything else wrong with me?”
“There’s security cameras all over this place. We’re not in Hawkins, so there’s no mob coming after you. I’m here, and I do know how to use a gun. No one is going to hurt you here.”
“I know all that.”
“Do you?”
He scowls at her. She looks back unflinchingly. She’s been here plenty of times, and the guys laughed at her until they didn’t anymore. By the time she brought Eddie, all she got was a raised eyebrow and a “boyfriend?” from Hunter at the desk. She didn’t know what was more incriminating, so she just shrugged. 
“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?”
She rolls her eyes, taking the gun from his hands and lining up a shot. “I’ve heard worse,” she says, thinking about Nancy Dre-ew, and Nancy “the slut” Wheeler, and priss, and shoots. It hits the bullseye. 
So do her next five shots. 
Eddie looks begrudgingly impressed when she reloads and hands the gun back to him. It’s more satisfying than it should be, to realize that while he’d known she had guns he’s never seen her actually shoot before. 
She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he huffs around a smile. “All right, all right,” he says good naturedly. “Let’s try this again.”
He does a little better this time around, now that he’s actually trying. He does a little dance when he hits one of the inner rings. 
“Take that!” He crows. “I bet Steve couldn’t do this. In your face, Harrington!”
“He’s much more of a close-combat kind of guy, isn’t he?” Nancy agrees. 
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Does he really have a bat with nails?”
She blinks, caught off guard by the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen it. She never registered that he hadn’t used it during Vecna. Something about the fact seems weird somehow, as if it was as integral to Steve as his coiffed hair. “He keeps it in his trunk.”
“You and Byers need to update your Steve manuals. He said it’s under his bed now.”
“Ah,” Nancy says, thinking of all the times she’s slept with her pistol under her pillow. Empty, because she’s not stupid enough to sleep with a loaded gun when her little brother sometimes wakes her up after a nightmare, but the comforting weight of it alone makes it easier. 
“Just tell me one thing,” he says, widening his eyes imploringly at her. “Did he look as sexy as I think he did? Byers won’t give me a straight answer.”
It’s a joke, but his cheeks are a little pink. She’s not dumb, she’s seen the looks the two of them share, as if he and Steve were circling each other. Caught in a whirlpool, waiting for the moment the vortex would drag them down and they could finally touch. 
The looks between Eddie and Jonathan, too, that share a certain camaraderie she doesn’t entirely understand and at the same time understands all too well. Steve and Jonathan had always had a strange relationship, too close to not be friendship but not quite there. Surprisingly enough it was better after she and Steve broke up, Jonathan no longer avoiding them and the talk she’d forced the three of them into clearing the air. Sometimes, she’d wake up to Jonathan climbing into her bed, smelling of cigarettes and a hint of something stronger, and he’d tell her it was Steve who drove him there. 
She’s a journalist. It’s her job to notice things. She just wasn’t ready to confront that reality, where the two boys she’d wanted wanted each other as well. But she’s grown since then. 
She also knows that whoever Steve chooses, it won’t be easy. 
“You know,” she says, considering, “when we were dating, Steve never pressed me up against the wall or anything you’d expect from the King.”
Eddie gets this look on his face, caught between confusion and caught out. “…okay? Did you want him to do that or something? Are you trying to ask me to hint to him?”
“No,” she says. “I’m just saying, he never did any of that. It was kind of funny. He always made it so that he was the one pressed against the wall.”
Eddie misses the next five shots entirely, and she laughs at him through it all.
She’s hyper aware of touching other girls now. She didn’t used to be. Even with Robin, who is a lesbian and definitely won’t hate her. Who’s probably gone through the same thing. She can’t help it. 
What if they get the wrong idea? What if someone else sees? What if they can tell, what if they know, what if they hate me?
She hates feeling like this. She doesn’t know why it started, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s no stranger to casual affection—or at least she didn’t used to be. Why does it make her feel so tense now? It’s been years since she realized she liked girls, shouldn’t this have happened back then?
Deep down, she knows why. The Reagan sign in her front yard. Her dad sitting in his chair, the news always on. “Always that nasty disease, Karen, I swear some people are just asking for it.” She’s always known she could never tell him, but now she knows that if she gets sick he’ll say she deserves it. She doesn’t know what her mother thinks. She’s afraid to find out. 
She’s growing up, and her fear is growing with her. 
Objectively, Nancy knows she and Eddie don’t make sense. 
They’re not cut from the same cloth, like Steve and Robin. They don’t calm each other down, like Jonathan and Argyle. They’re too different, too alike in all the wrong ways, for them to get along. They’re both snappy, a little mean. Eddie’s dramatic enough to get on her nerves, and she’s prim enough to get on his. At their worst, they have earth shattering arguments that end in them not speaking to each other for days. 
When people see them walking down the street together, they whisper about “that nice girl Nancy Wheeler” and “that awful Munson boy.”
It’s not fair, never has been. Nancy hasn’t felt nice for a long time, maybe before Barb ever disappeared. Eddie isn’t always particularly nice either, but the court of public opinion takes it to extremes, twists him into something cruel instead of the kindness he carries under his leather armor. Someone to keep their children away from. It really is a shame, because Eddie loves kids in a way Nancy never has. She can see it in the way he interacts with them, his bright smile fading when a parent comes to drag them away. Even when he’s expecting it, his face falls, just for an instant, before spinning around with a grin that won’t reach his eyes. 
Nancy wants to take him out of here. There’s an offer on the tip of her tongue that she knows he’d refuse.
He’s not her brother, but he’s not…unlike one. It’s almost like talking to an older, flashier Mike. He’s annoying, is what he is. He picks at her, keeps pressing over the littlest things. Tries to get under her skin, succeeds, until she’s on the verge of stabbing him with her pencil. Looks triumphant whenever Robin has to grab her arm to drag her away, rambling an excuse about “some girl thing I totally forgot, yeah it’s an emergency,” while Steve drags him the other way to have bro time. 
“She loves it,” she’d heard Eddie crow delightedly once, when Robin didn’t get her out of hearing range fast enough. “Do you see that fire in her eyes?”
“Do I?” She asked Robin. “Love it?”
“I mean, far be it from me to tell you what you do and don’t like,” Robin answered. “But, uh, as far as I can tell, you totally love it. You look like you’re going to rip him to pieces and enjoy it, and he loves that. I didn’t think you’d be this much of a nightmare together, seriously, like, how are you two at each other’s throats one second and then best friends the next? Steve and I have debated locking you in a bathroom until you get along, but we’re kind of afraid you’ll kill each other.”
So no, Nancy and Eddie don’t get along. They’re kind of a nightmare together. They don’t make sense, and they don’t try to. They have other friends, who they get along with better, that they can seek out. 
But when Eddie knocks on her window, the only surprise is that he could even get there. 
“How?” She hisses, opening the window. He tumbles in, doesn’t even try to play off the utter gracelessness he’s displaying. 
“Wowie, I am never doing that again,” he breathes, flat on his back. “You’re going to have to help me down the stairs when I leave, had to leave my cane at the bottom and I cannot get back down that way.”
She doesn’t even want to know what he had to do to get up on her roof with his bad leg. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m but another lover, nothing but an ant in the face of your unwavering beauty, my queen,” he says, batting his eyes at her. The dramatics don’t hit the way he intends, given that he’s stuck on the floor. He holds a hand out pleadingly, and she rolls her eyes, hauling him up until she can get him to her bed. 
“Never mind.” She puts her hands on her hips, a gesture that is so obviously Steve she removes them immediately. From the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he notices.
She tries not to be jealous. She tries, she swears, but…
Three of the four (five? she doesn’t know what Argyle thinks of her) friends she has are dating each other. Two of them dated her, first. She can’t help but wonder, if she’d known that was an option, if everything would have been different. If she wouldn’t have this aching bitterness between her teeth. 
(Nothing would have changed, she knows. She’d been too desperate for other things. Trying so hard with Steve so her best friend didn’t die for nothing. Staying with Jonathan because he understood her more than anyone else, so maybe they didn’t need to talk. It wouldn’t have helped anything. She still wonders.)
It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past, and she needs to move forward. She can’t stop to think about could-have-beens, because thinking about boys is what got her into this mess in the first place. 
She closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. That’s not fair. None of this is fair. None of it is fucking fair because Nancy stopped caring about fair when Barb died. 
She needs a drink. She needs a nap. She needs to stop feeling like Atlas with the world on her shoulders. 
She doesn’t do any of that. She calls Robin.
“Barb was my first kiss.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Nancy says, and keeps talking, because Barb is dead and Robin is a lesbian and she’s long forgotten what Barb’s favorite chapstick was back then. “We were seven, and I liked it but I didn’t know if I liked her. But I was convinced I was going to marry her, until my mom told me that girls don’t marry other girls. And I knew she liked girls when she died. She told me when we were fifteen, and I didn’t know the word bisexual but I knew I loved her and that was all that mattered. Not—not like that, not romantic, or maybe it was but it doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I still love her but she’s gone forever. I loved her.”
She feels Robin lay a tentative hand on her back. 
“I had to look her parents in the eye and pretend. All those fucking NDA’s, I had to pretend there was hope. Pretend she was still missing. It was like everyone forgot about her except for me and them, and they sold their house to find their dead daughter and I wasn’t supposed to say anything and Steve kept reminding me about the fucking NDA’s—“
 “Nancy…”
“It’s my fault,” Nancy says, staring at the water. “I lumped in Steve, because it was easier than being alone. He didn’t know her like I did. She was worried about me. She stayed because she cared, and look where that got her.”
“That’s bullshit!” Robin’s eyes are wide, and she waves her hands around as she talks. “If it’s anyones fault, it’s those—those scientist guys experimenting on El! They knew there was a problem, and they tried to cover it up instead of making sure people were safe. You didn’t know it was dangerous. How were you supposed to know it was going to end up as anything other than normal teenage drama? None of this is supposed to be real, you didn’t know—“
“But I left her,” Nancy cuts in. “I left her alone to go lose my virginity to a boy she didn’t even like—“
“He was your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have mattered if she liked him—“
“It doesn’t matter!” Nancy shouts, and Robin falls silent, mouth still moving. “It doesn’t fucking matter how it happened, because it did and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault.”
Nancy is sick of crying. Sick of feeling helpless. Sick of not being able to change the past. 
“It’s not just Barb. I took Fred to the trailer park—he didn’t even want to be there, and now he’s dead. Eddie needs a cane, Max is almost completely blind and might never walk again and it was my plan that put them there. My plan that almost killed them. I’m responsible—“
“Fuck that.”
“Robin…”
“No, you listen to me, Nancy Wheeler,” Robin says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Max would have died without that plan. We all would have died. Venca-slash-Henry-slash-One would have won without that plan, and I am not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for saving lives. And-and Fred! Venca had already marked him, you know that. You couldn’t have done anything! And Barb is not your fault, okay? I-I-I know I can’t convince you, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes until you start believing it, because it’s true. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill anyone.”
“I killed Bruce,” she says, just to prove Robin wrong. And isn’t that shitty of her, to forget about him until she can use him to prove a point? She’s a fucking awful person.
“I don’t know who Bruce is, but given your track record I highly doubt that.”
“I bashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.”
Robin pauses, and Nancy’s stomach sinks. This is it, she thinks. This is what will convince her, this is what will make her see that I’m wrong, that I’m poison-
“What was he doing?”
“What?”
“Bruce. You had to have a reason for it. What was he doing?”
It’s like Robin doesn’t even care that Nancy just admitted to first degree murder. “He was flayed,” she admits, knowing Robin will take it as proof that she’s right.
“That’s not murder, that’s self defense,” Robin says, just like she knew she would. “Also, if he was flayed he was already dead. Sorry, I’m sticking to your side on this.”
“But I’m less torn up about killing my asshole coworker than I am about anything else. How does that not make me a monster?”
“He was already dead, Nancy!” Robin shakes her. “You’re not beating yourself up over it because you know he was already dead, a-a-and I know you’re using him to try and push me away and I won’t let you.”
“Robin…” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She’s so fucking sick of crying. So sick of the way she never seems to stop anymore. 
“Nancy,” Robin says. “None of us are going to leave you. Stop trying to make us.”
She pulls her into a hug, and Nancy sags into it, boneless. 
There, sandwiched between the sky and the water, Nancy starts to feel like she could forgive herself. 
“Nancy,” Steve says, putting a hand on her shoulder and ducking his chin to look her in the eye. “They won’t be alone.”
Tears well up, unbidden, at the way he seems to understand her now in a way he never did before. 
“I want this,” she insists. 
“I know you do,” he says. “Which is why you’re going to go out there, kick ass, and take names. We’ll be here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on them.”
“I know you will.” She swipes a hand across her eyes. “Can you talk to Holly, too? She gets lonely.”
Steve smiles. He’d always loved Holly, when they were dating. He used to braid her hair sometimes. Asked her about her drawings, her TV shows, listened to her talk with the same attentiveness Nancy’s father had never shown any of them. He’ll be a good dad, someday. To someone else’s children.
“I’ll talk to Holly,” he promises. “Does she still like princesses?”
“Ladybugs,” she says. “It’s ladybugs, now.”
“Ladybugs. I can do that. Black and red, and they’re all ladies. What’s not to like?”
“There are male ladybugs.”
“Wait, seriously?”
She laughs, tearfully, but they’re happy tears. Steve wipes them away gently, and she smiles at him to let him know she’s okay. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
“You’re the best person I know, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, achingly sincere. “You’re gonna have the whole world under your thumb, I just know it. Ever thought of running for President?”
“Can’t be worse than the one we have now,” she says, grimaces as her own joke lands too bitterly to be funny. She sees his jaw tighten before he forces himself to relax. 
“I’d vote for you.”
She grins at him, sharp to punch through the tension she’d made. “I’ll make Eddie my Vice President.”
“Oh, fuck no. You lost me,” he says, and Eddie makes an offended noise from where he’s stealing snacks from the glovebox. Jonathan swats him, and she smiles at him too. He smiles back, tentatively, and wanders to her side. 
“You gonna be okay up there?” He asks quietly. She can hear the guilt in it, still, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand. The one with the scar that matches hers, so their palms line up. It feels full circle, somehow, the three of them together like this. 
“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, and feels the truth of it in her chest. Her boys are here with her, the ones who have been there since the beginning. Eddie’s watching them fondly, munching on a granola bar. Robin is inside somewhere, rambling at her mother. Mike and Holly are probably still bickering over the last cupcake. She loves them so much, all of them. 
“Of course you will,” Steve says. “You’re Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler. Nothing stops you.”
She wants that to be true. She can feel in her bones that it will be. Eighteen has nothing on who she’ll be at thirty. 
She’s Nancy Wheeler, and the world won’t see her coming. 
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