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alexias-putellas · 3 months

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the grudge // barça femení x reader

barça femení x reader

was feeling sad and writing is my preferred version of therapy. definitely didn’t cry writing this.

also i am in no way intending to bash katie or insinuate anything about her past relationship. i love her more than life itself. she just happens to be the person who is facing my wrath.

i’m not too sure if this needs a warning. it’s a lil heavy but nothing is outright mentioned, more suggested.

you had been on autopilot since the breakup in may, focusing solely on football and not on your broken heart. you hadn’t allowed your barcelona teammates to see you cry but you welcomed their efforts to make you feel better anyway, craving the affection you knew you’d never get from katie again.

long distance wasn’t going to be easy and you knew that. but you were trying.

you pretended not to notice when she began pulling away, keeping up the façade that nothing was wrong, even when everything was falling apart. you tried not to push when she shoved, or snap when she bit. it broke your heart when you made a trip to london and ended up spending the entire weekend with leah and lia, not seeing katie once.

so really you shouldn’t have been so blindsided by the breakup.

when you received the news that you were taking over as captain for england for the world cup, you should’ve been ecstatic. your england teammates were, they were gentle and told you how much you deserved it, even katie texted to congratulate you. you didn’t open it.

england were storming through the competition, beating every team they faced. but something happened before the semi-final against australia. you’d finally become aware of the rumours that surrounded katie and caitlin, the rumours that claimed they’d started dating not long after your breakup.

there was no overlap, there couldn’t have been. you and caitlin were good friends when you played for arsenal so you told yourself that she’d never do that to you. neither of them would.

you didn’t shy away on the pitch. you shook caitlin’s hand and looked her in the eye. she almost seemed ashamed. despite having friends playing for australia, you pushed your team harder than before. was it to prove a point? maybe. but it worked. you had won. you had captained your team to the final and suddenly your personal life was far behind you.

when the final whistle blew in the spanish game, you didn’t cry. the switch still hadn’t flipped, you were still on autopilot. you comforted your teammates. you held alessia as she sobbed, you told lucy how proud you were, you hugged millie and rachel. you congratulated your spanish friends. you told ona how good she was and how excited you were that you were going to be playing together soon, you hugged salma, and cata, and aitana, and mariona. you held alexia as she cried, telling her how much she deserved it after everything she’d been through.

you still hadn’t cried. you weren’t sure if you could anymore. you were absolutely devastated and you almost felt guilty for not being able to show it properly.

but it started to catch up to you in mexico. during training, you could feel the waves getting closer, getting bigger. you stayed afloat, despite the desperate need to drown, and you kept the waves at bay as best you could. you were benched for the game against the tigres and you felt the waves again and in a moment of desperation, you reached for ingrid, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on her and the comfort she radiated.

alexia was your roomate for the night. you followed her into the hotel and up to your room. she headed straight for a shower whilst you collapsed onto the bed.

everything seemed to hit you then. you were exhausted. you were grieving. you were drowning. you covered your face in an attempt to muffle your sobs, not wanting to disturb the blonde.

you were so focused on trying to stay afloat that you hadn’t heard the shower stop, or the door open, or the gasp that left alexia’s lips as she found you.

she pulled you into her arms without a second thought, holding you tightly to her chest as you cried. you tried to push her away, fighting in her grip, you didn’t want her to see you. you were burdening her. she was probably still on a high from the world cup and there you were, ruining it all.

her grip never relented. she never let go. not when you writhed or you swore at her. not when you begged and pleaded for her to.

she only let go a little while later once she was sure you were fast asleep, quickly and carefully placing you on the bed. she swiped her phone from the bedside table, quietly slipping out of the room.

unbeknownst to alexia, you’d started stirring as soon as your back hit the bed. a soft whimper left your lips as you patted the space next to you. with a new storm brewing in your head and the waves growing stronger with every breath, you didn’t know what to think about alexia’s sudden disappearance.

was she mad at you? was she already sick of you? your hands shook as your thoughts spiralled. you glanced at your phone. alexia had always said that you could call her whenever you needed but what if she’d changed her mind? or she ignored you?

with a shaky sigh, you settled for cuddling with the barcelona hoodie she’d previously discarded, crawling back under the covers and letting the exhaustion wash over you once again.

alexia didn’t wake you for breakfast the next morning. she knew you needed the sleep. she made her way to where the rest of the team were and mapi frowned when the blonde sat down at the table alone.

“where is the nena?”

“sleeping,” alexia answered. “she was upset last night so be nice to her when she wakes up, por favor.”

“she finally cracked?” lucy asked, a slight frown on her own face.

“yes,” alexia sighed. “it was not nice seeing her like that.”

“was she bad?” keira sat forward, her leg bouncing. aitana noticed and immediately placed her hand on her knee, giving her a small smile.

“sí. i have never seen her so upset.”

“hey,” ingrid said softly but firmly, sensing the growing anxiety amongst the girls. “she has us. she will be okay, we’ll make sure of it.”

ᡣ𐭩

“hi bagheera,” you murmured, running your hand along the smooth fur of the cat. he purred and leaned into your touch. “we’re roommates now.”

upon arriving back in barcelona, ingrid and mapi had practically demanded that you move in with them for the foreseeable future. you had no objections.

you watched with amusement as ingrid barked orders at some of your teammates, who had so graciously offered to help you move your things, wincing as mapi put a box down a little too hard.

ingrid pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a breath. frido and marta walked in then, saving mapi from her girlfriend. they placed the last of your things down and you shuffled over to them, thanking them quietly and giving them short hugs. ingrid thanked them too and frido made sure to ruffle your hair before they left.

you fell back onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. mapi soon invaded your vision and you really didn’t like the grin on her face.

“ay, maría, no!”

too late. mapi threw herself over the sofa and landed directly on top of you. you huffed out a laugh, a sound that instantly made the couple relax. it had been a long time since they’d heard you laugh.

“what do you want to do today?” ingrid asked you, leaning on the back of the sofa.

“not really in the mood to do anything,” you shrugged. “but if you two have plans—“

“we don’t,” ingrid said and you could tell she was telling the truth. “even if we did, i don’t think maría would want to go anyway.”

“i wouldn’t either, this is nice,” you mumbled, running your hand through mapi’s hair. “maybe tonight we can order pizza and watch movies?”

you watched as mapi moved her hand around blindly until she found your face, gently patting you on the head. “good idea, querida.”

ingrid smiled down at you both before gently nudging mapi. “first we need to help you unpack and get settled, come on.”

you both groaned but slowly got up. ingrid quickly put on some music and the three of you got to work. you had to admit it was pretty fun.

by the time you were done, you really had made the place like your own. the spare bedroom was decorated perfectly to your liking and you had little knick-knacks strewn around the other rooms.

they left you alone when you’d reached for your bags and you were quiet as you tidied your clothes into the wardrobe. as you reached for the last piece of clothing, your mouth grew dry.

ingrid paused outside of your door, fist raised ready to knock when she heard your soft cry. she pushed the door open, rushing over to you. you cried into the old arsenal hoodie as she pulled you into her arms.

“why does she get to be happy?” you asked through your tears. “why does she get her happy ending? it’s not fair!”

“no, it’s not,” ingrid agreed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “it’s not fair, elskling. but you know what? that doesn’t matter. you are going to get better, you are going to be so so happy. and so loved. more than you already are. she didn’t deserve you and you didn’t deserve this. but you are not alone, we are going to be with you every step of the way, okay? you won’t have to deal with any of this on your own anymore, i promise.”

you sniffled, fiddling with the hoodie strings. “you mean it?”

ingrid nodded. “i do. you have us and we’re never letting you go.”

with careful hands, the norwegian gently pulled the hoodie from your grip and tossed it onto the floor. you stared at it sadly for a few seconds. it was for the better, and you knew that, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“vamos, chicas!” you heard mapi shout. “the pizza is here!”

ingrid stood and held her hand out to you. you took it gratefully, letting her pull you up. “thank you, ingrid. for everything.”

she shook her head. “you do not have to thank me for anything.”

“yes, i do.”

“no,” she said sternly. “now let’s go before maría eats all the food.”

“oye, i heard that!”

“good, you were supposed to!”

…would any of you be interested in me turning this into a series?

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #alexia putellas #lucy bronze #keira walsh #ingrid engen #mapi león

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putellasawfc · 3 months

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down again !

rachel daly x lioness!reader

( a/n : sorry i haven’t posted in sooo long omg !! honestly the holiday season drained me & since i’ve been so unmotivated to write :( & i’ve been dealing with stuff in my personal life, nothing serious just so hectic ! but i am slowly coming back. still have a mary earps request & arsenal x teen!reader request to work on and a few of you have asked for a pt2 to the wag in training instagram post i made. they will all be coming eventually ! )

you jogged beside rachel up and down the pitch, you and the others girls were warming yourselves up for the ninety minute game against belgium that was due to commence in twenty minutes from now, the fans had already begun to fill the seats of the stadium and you were eager to win this for them. you were excited for the match, a little nervous but mostly excited.

it had been awhile since you were in the starting line up after recovering from an ankle injury, you had been on the bench for all the recent games and you were more excited than ever to be able to play a full game again, though sarina had advised you to let her know if you felt as though you were pushing your ankle too much and she would take you off immediately, not wanting to risk you causing any further damage to it which could lead to anything permanent.

you felt a nudge against your hip, and turned to see your girlfriend of almost a year smiling at you knowingly. “you gonna score a banger for us today?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, knowing she was only half serious. “what do i get if i do?”

“umm..” she cocked her head to the side whilst she pretended to think, both of you turning on your heel once you reached the end of the pitch so you could run back up again. “a big fat kiss and a box of chocolates?”

“is that it?”

you gasped at the sudden shove you were given, stumbling over your two feet as rachel laughed and continued jogging.

“oi!” you called out, “you can’t do that, i’m fragile remember.” you caught up with her, shoving her in return though not with as much effort she had just given you.

“yeah, yeah.” she shrugged you off, “that’s not what you were saying last night.”

“rach!” you cried out, head whipping around to ensure nobody was nearby to hear what the blonde was insinuating.

she laughed at your reaction, and you almost wondered why you put up with her sometimes, but when you glanced in her direction and saw her already smiling back at you with that fond look in her eye, that look you only saw when she was staring back at you, you didn’t waste another second trying to guess.

“you’re such a pain sometimes.”

you made your way into the penalty box as one of the belgium girls grabbed the ball and made her way to the corner, the red and black kitted team earning themselves a corner after the ball had been kicked out by millie when number nine had gotten too close for comfort. you got in position, standing where you usually always stood which was just outside goal, as closest to mary than any of the other england players with a few girls from the other team pushing and grabbing their ways between you and your fellow lioness.

you sent the blonde a reassuring smile, confident that you would be able to stop the ball from touching the inside of the net with how well you had all been playing so far already.

the ball had been kicked and was now soaring through the air with some speed, you bounced on your feet as you waited to see where it looked more likely to land, your arm stuck out to prevent one of the belgium girls from knocking you out of the way and gaining an advantage on the ball.

the seconds went by in slow motion as the ball got closer and closer to where you stood, and you made the quick decision that you would try and header the goal out of play as it seemed like the best decision, you did not want to risk passing it to another member of the competition and have them get it past your or mary.

you jumped on your feet, leaning forward to connect your head with the leather material when out of nowhere, you felt a harsh push against your back and ribs that had your head flying into something else instead, something that had you crumbling to the floor only a second later with your head in your hands and a mind numbing pain spreading through your entire body.

the crowd exploded into a chorus of boo’s, and the whistle blew not even a second later, the loud sounds doing nothing to soften that pulsing agony in your head. you didn’t want to move, your whole body felt heavy and the thought of stretching even a single part of your body sounded like hell to you. you didn’t even react when you felt a gentle hand on your back, or another on your shoulder, or another on the top of your head where the hairband to your ponytail was positioned. the pain was so intense you were sure that if you weren’t so out of it you would be a sobbing mess right now.

you felt a body loom over yours, and some hair tickle your ear, “babe? can you hear me? are you alright?”

the northern accent that sounded from your girlfriend was heavily coated in an unusual sense of concern that you never really heard from the carefree blonde, but with you down on the floor, seemingly unresponsive the villa player was more scared than she had ever been.

“babe? can you please just say something? or move your hand? just wanna make sure you’re awake okay? please.” she sounded desperate at the end, and your heart clenched at the panic in her voice.

so with all the strength you could muster, which right now wasn’t a lot, you moved your hand until you managed to find her thigh, where you let it sit, feeling comforted by the skin on skin contact you had with your girlfriend. it wasn’t long before she grabbed that hand and squeezed it in her own, her slender fingers intertwining with your own as her thumb rubbed the back of you knuckles.

“you’re gonna be okay, yeah? the medics are here love, they’re gonna make sure you’re good.”

you mentally nodded at that, though didn’t make any move to physically show her you had acknowledged her words. you felt her press a quick peck to the back of your knuckles before she released your hold in hers and moved aside to let the medics in. you frowned at the loss of contact, but there wasn’t much you could do about it until you were at least able to verbally communicate with the people surrounding you.

the medics checking you out was a blur, just a lot of hands touching your face and neck, moving your head back and forth, the gasp from some of your teammates when they caught sight of the nasty gash on your temple that you hadn’t even realised was there until the alcohol wipes came out. a light was shone in your eyes briefly, before it was flickered off and the medic gestured to two other medics who were waiting offside.

a few seconds later a bright orange could be seen from your blurred vision, though you knew what it was straight away. there was no mistaking the stretcher you had seen being brought out more times than you had liked throughout your career, most of the time for other players but today it seemed as you were the lucky girl about to be carried off the pitch. you panicked a little, worrying how serious your injury was if the medics thought the stretcher was necessary.

your eyes sought out the presence of the only person who could calm you at this moment, flickering around wildly in a desperate attempt to find her but it was like she had all of a sudden vanished.

it was hemp who clicked onto who you were looking around for, the man city striker was stood at a distance, biting at her nails as she watched over you almost protectively, and seeing you so frantic in your attempts to place your girlfriend had her feeling even more sorry for you. she was quick to help out, looking around to find rachel, who to no surprise, was with millie just out of sight from you.

millie was holding the smaller girl back with a hand to her chest, as rachel yelled at the culprit who was the reason for your newfound concussion, the woman in question at least having the decency to look guilty. rachel’s face was flushed red with anger, and her hand was flying all over the place as she yelled. it was a good job millie was there, lauren thought to herself. though millie herself wasn’t looking at the belgium player too nicely either.

with the medics ready to lift you and get you on the stretcher, lauren didn’t waste anymore time and jogged over to the duo, placing a hand on rachel’s shoulder which halted her ranting as she looked to see who had approached.

“they’re carrying y/n off rach, i think she wants you with her.” hemp kept the explanation brief, knowing it would be enough to have rachel retreating and joining you.

and she was right, rachel didn’t even bother to look back at the belgium player again before she rushed off to where you were still laid on the floor, some of the other lionesses now wandering off to give the two of you (along with the medics) some much needed space. she fell down on her knees next to you, and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realised you’d been holding.

“come on pretty girl, let’s get you somewhere they can treat you properly yeah? need you all fixed up so we can have you with us again.” rachel did a good job at soothing your racing thoughts, her encouraging smile enough to ease the part of your brain that was coming up with all sorts of scary injuries you were convincing yourself you might have.

with your head still being in immense pain, you were still unable to nod in response, so instead you opted to send her a weak smile to let her know you were listening and appreciated her being there. she smiled back, moving to squeeze your hand in hers once again which added to the comfort you felt with her around.

“just gonna stand back whilst they get you up, okay? then i’ll be with you whilst they carry you off. ella’s gonna be with you whilst i’m still on the pitch but if sarina takes me off i’ll be finding you straight away, alright babe?” she explained, and you squeezed her hand in acknowledgement, feeling more at ease now you knew toone who was on the bench right now, would be with you whilst the medics checked you over inside.

rachel did as she said and temporarily let go of your hand so that she could step away and allow the medics to handle you properly, not wanting to get in their way and cause any issues whilst they dealt with you. a mixture of emotions weighed heavy on her heart.

she was angry at the player who decided to shove you head first into the goal post, just to stop you from getting rid of the ball that mary had caught anyways. no she was livid actually. but she was also upset for you, who had just gotten back on the pitch after waiting almost two months for your ankle to heal after your last incident on the pitch, now you’d be off again and for your sake she just hoped it wasn’t for longer than two weeks at most. and on top of all that she was worried, very worried about the state that you were in.

this wasn’t just a simple hit to the head that you could walk off, clearly. you were bleeding heavily and it was as if you weren’t even aware of where you were, or who you were with or what had just happened. she was just grateful you seemed to be able to understand what people were saying to you, that would’ve been too much for her to cope with she was sure.

millie comforted her whilst she waited for the medics to finish, and she was grateful for the support from her best friend who didn’t speak, only rubbed her shoulder comfortingly in the stressful seconds that passed. it had been six minutes now since the game had been halted because of your injury, and whilst the others girls ran to their managers and listened to advice and new game strategies, rachel refused to leave the pitch with you on it, especially with the state that you were in. if it weren’t for the cameras that were no doubt pointed at her right now, she was sure she’d be a mess until she found out for certain you were going to be okay.

she moved forward the second your body was lifted on the stretcher and squeezed inbetween two bodies so that she could grab ahold of your hand for the third time since you went down, using her spare hand to rub up and down your arm whilst she walked with you all the way off the pitch. the crowd watching erupted into applause as they always did when an injured player was carried off and rachel could only smile at the show of appreciation for you, her super girl who would’ve no doubt been tearing up at the love you were receiving if you were really aware of it.

when you reached the end of the pitch, she quickly leaned down and as gently as she could placed a quick kiss to your cheek, giving you once saddened glance before she moved back. “love you baby, i promise i’ll come see you as soon as i can.”

the only thing keeping rachel relaxed at the moment was knowing that ella would be with you on the other side, one of your best friends on the squad who she knew would look after you in replace of her. she waited until you were out of sight before she turned to make her way back to the pitch, making eye contact with the belgium player who had been sent off with a red card for deliberately pushing you into the goal post, and she was tempted to approach the dark haired woman and do something she’d probably regret in the morning. but before she even had a chance to take a step in that direction, sarina appeared in her line of sight and sent her a look, a look that said ‘you know you don’t really want to’.

and despite the vision of you laying on the floor, body crumpled and unmoving so clear in her mind, she knew sarina was right. so reluctantly, she steered her body in the opposite direction and jogged back to her original position as she waited for the game to recommence.

four hours had passed and you were now laid in bed in your hotel room, the one you shared with rachel as you always did when you were at camp, with the blonde fretting over your every need.

the doctors you had seen had confirmed you had a hefty concussion, and would be out of any form of football based activities for the next two weeks, which was a bummer but you were just glad it wasn’t too long, hopefully two weeks would pass by in a flash.

unfortunately, they had given rachel a list of symptoms to look out for incase your condition worsened and now the poor woman hadn’t relaxed since she’d gotten back, constantly checking up on you and watching over you like a hawk so she could catch any slight change in your current state so she could alert them immediately.

“rach, babe, come sit please. can’t relax with you pacing around like you are.” you stressed, patting the empty space beside you. “i am fine. i promise i will let you know if anything changes.”

she tutted at that but approached the bed as you had asked her to. “will you though? i know what you’re like. wont wanna say anything because you won’t want me to panic.”

“i think it’s too late for me to be worrying about making you panic.” you teased, and she glared in response.

“well i’m glad you can make jokes right now. i don’t think you understand how scared i actually was when i saw you down like that.”

your heart clenched at the sight of rachel with her head down whilst she fiddled with her fingers, and suddenly you felt bad for making jokes when she was so obviously still upset about the whole situation.

“hey, look at me rach.” you reached out and placed your hand on top of hers that were together on her lap. “i am okay, the doctors know what they’re doing and they said i’m fine, yeah? i promise you, cross my heart and hope to die, that i will tell you if i start feeling worse, okay? as soon as.”

she stared back at you for a second, her eyes wandering from yours to the bandage that had been wrapped around your head after your injury had been cleaned, before she let out a sigh and nodded, her tense body finally relaxing for the first time since the game which you took as a small win.

“think you need to start playing in bubble wrap from now on. first your ankle, now your head, what’s next?”

you were relieved to hear your girlfriend joke around with you once again, albeit her tone lacked the usual cheekiness that it usually held when she was messing around with you, obviously still not completely at ease with everything but she was showing signs of getting there.

“think sarina will add it to the next training kit for me? i’ll even offer to put some money towards it.” you smiled, hand moving to cup rachel’s cheek whilst you watched her eyes light up in amusement.

“yeah i’m sure she’ll be proper up for it, especially if it means actually having you on the pitch for more than a game at a time.” she retaliated with a laugh at the end and you playfully rolled your eyes at her light hearted comment.

“i made it almost sixty minutes, better than what i’ve been getting lately, i’ll take what i can get.” you shrugged, and now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“love you silly girl, even when you’re so accident prone.” she leaned forward and pecked your lips, which you melted into happily.

“in my defence, what happened today wasn’t an accident! i’m a victim.” you told her, which earned you a shove back against the headboard.

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fluff #lionesses one shot #lionesses x reader #aston villa wfc x reader #rachel daly x reader #rachel daly one shot #rachel daly imagine

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genericpuff · 3 months

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I really enjoyed seeing your last post!!! It reminded me of something else that I noticed when I was younger and not really seeing LO through the eyes I am now- even when I lived LO, I noticed that Minthe’s bust size.. Might’ve changed? (I could be remembering wrong, and I’m sorry if I am!) I didn’t think on it too much back then, but it felt a lot like the “she could never measure up to Persephone”, or the “she’s nothing to worry about when it comes to Persephone”!!

But then, when Minthe was supposed to be more of a “problem,” I noticed she’d get drawn with a larger bust- or at least larger than it had been back in the earliest episodes!

This could all make absolutely no sense, (and I apologize for just rambling in your askbox!), but I watching a character’s “worthiness” be portrayed through something as simple and neutral as their chest size stuck out to me then, and sticks out to me now!! 😓)

Oh don't apologize, you're literally pointing out exactly the things we've even talked about in the ULO community !

Literally here she is in S1:

And we even get a scene of her smooshing her boobs together in Episode 35 in an effort to make them seem bigger because she legit feels like Hades is pursuing the "new hotness" in the office based around their physical appearances:

But then she conveniently goes up like 3 cup sizes when it's time for her to be cemented as the villain and suffer her fate by getting turned into a plant?

I've literally seen fans grasp at straws to explain that maybe she got a boob job but then they don't realize that the story at this point has only been going on for like, 3-4 weeks at most. At best you shouldn't have to make those massive leaps to explain the inconsistent character body types. If Minthe really did get a boob job, don't you think that's something that should have been explained in the comic?

And let's be real, we all know what it's really about because it's just more of Rachel pitting women against women:

What's wild though is that Rachel is vastly misinterpreting a classic image here:

A lot of people look at that image of Jayne Mansfield and Sophia Loren and just immediately assume that Sophia is giving Jayne the stink eye over her outfit. And of course, we see this misinterpretation in Rachel's drawing that swaps Sophia and Jayne with Minthe and Persephone.

When in FACT what was actually going on was that Sophia spotted Jayne getting dangerously close to a wardrobe malfunction / nip slip and the camera just happened to catch her making a face that could be misinterpreted as slut-shaming.

"Yes, Paramount had organized a party for me. All of cinema was there, it was incredible. And then comes in Jayne Mansfield, the last one to come. For me, that was when it got amazing. She came right for my table. She knew everyone was watching. She sat down. And now, she was barely… Listen. Look at the picture. Where are my eyes? I'm staring at her nipples because I am afraid they are about to come onto my plate. In my face you can see the fear. I'm so frightened that everything in her dress is going to blow—BOOM!—and spill all over the table."

Ans Sophia has actually stated that she doesn't like those misinterpretations and is trying to actively distance herself from it.

"Actually, many, many times I am given this photo to autograph it. And I never do. I don't want to have anything to do with that. And also out of respect for Jayne Mansfield because she's not with us anymore."

Jayne died in 1967, only living for about 30 years, and Sophia herself is actually still around. I can imagine how disheartening it is to see people still misinterpreting a photo of two friends and colleagues especially when it's through the lens of slut-shaming an accomplished actress who is unfortunately no longer with us.

Sooo yeah all that said, I'm less inclined to believe it was Minthe getting a boob job and more inclined to believe it was more of Rachel's weird internalized misogyny picking and choosing which women are "sluts" and which ones are "victims" for dressing or being built a certain way. It's really gross when you start to notice it.

People have also pointed out how odd it is that every single character who gets into a relationship or is in a relationship by S3 seemingly morphs into copies of Hades and Persephone, which is really just more of a testament to how lazy Rachel is in her character designs. In her head she's just trying Hades and Persephone all the time but different colors, I imagine at this point the H x P relationship is the only thing that she's interested in writing/drawing about (and even that's arguably hanging on by a thread because she couldn't even let their long-awaited wedding scene have real room to breathe) so it's almost like she's defaulting to just zoning out and drawing nothing but H x P and then having her assistants color them differently based on who it's actually supposed to be.

But I digress. The body shaming and slut shaming is definitely hard-baked into LO and how it portrays its characters. Despite Rachel having written an actual comic portraying sexism in the past, she still can't seem to express her ideas around sexism, to the point of, again, saying she "didn't know sexism was that bad" until she worked on LO. Like, girl... you drew a comic about sexism before LO, what are you talking about? Is this more of you not wanting to acknowledge ANY of the work you did prior to LO, or are you telling me you didn't intend for those older works to be interpreted as sexism???

"I feel like female characters in general, people will be a little harsher on them and sometimes way harsher on them, and I used to be like.. before I started writing the story and like making a story I was like yeah, sexism is not that bad, and [now] I was like oh it's bad. It's quite bad [laughs], so like, I don't know, I feel like the female characters in the story don't get so much of a pass. But this isn't consistent across the board, it's not all the time." - Rachel Smythe, Girl Wonder Podcast circa 2022

#WHICH IS IT RACHEL #DO YOU THINK SEXISM WASN'T THAT BAD OR DO YOU BLAME THE PATRIARCHY FOR EVERYTHING #DO YOU THINK PEOPLE ARE TOO HARSH ON YOUR FEMALE CHARACTERS OR DO YOU MEAN JUST PERSEPHONE-#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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brbsoulnomming · 6 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 23

-----

They're on the front page for about a week.

They run the stories of Hopper and Henry Creel simultaneously - honestly, Eddie kind of thinks the fact that Hopper was presumed dead and is now back makes it easier for people to believe a previously assumed dead guy is the top suspect for the murders.

Eddie gets barely a mention clearing him of all charges. There's a couple of articles about him and Steve fighting off Henry Creel, but the focus is more on Steve than anything else.

Steve bitches about it, about how they did the same thing after Starcourt, but Eddie's kind of glad his name isn't plastered all over the place anymore.

He and Steve are down in the kitchen scrounging up celebratory snacks and beers - Steve has a clean bill of health, and Eddie's stitches are coming out in a few days - when the phone rings.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking," he greets.

Eddie barely has time to decide he's absolutely going to tease him about that later when the response comes - loud enough for him to hear it.

"Steven, my boy!" the voice booms, spirited and affable.

Steve closes his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Hi, Dad."

"We just heard the news!" Steve's father says. "Why didn't you call to tell us? Did the earthquake damage anything?"

Part of Eddie thinks he should leave. Or at least back away, so he can't hear everything that's being said - but the other part of him thinks that Steve'd push him away if he didn't want him here, and with how tense Steve's gone next to him, Eddie can't bring himself to pull away.

"The house is fine," Steve says. "Loch Nora didn't get hit at all."

"Good, good," Mr. Harrington says. "Your mother hears you and Rachel have been volunteering with the relief efforts?"

Eddie didn't think it was possible, but Steve goes even stiffer.

"Robin," he corrects, his tone smooth and entirely void of inflection. "Yes, we've been coordinating donations."

"That's what I want to hear!" There's a sound like a loud clap. "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. You had a lot of ground to make up for, but it seems giving you a dose of reality has paid off. We'll be able to have some real talks about your future soon. What? Oh, your mother wants to talk to you."

There's a shuffling noise, then a quieter and much less friendly voice greets, "Steven."

"Hey Mom," Steve's posture relaxes a little. "I told Dad we made it out okay."

There's some kind of response, but Steve's mom is too quiet for Eddie to make it out.

"No, of course I didn't file charges. I knew you'd want to handle it if anything else happened." A pause. "Yes, that Carver. Mom, it's not - yeah. Yeah, okay. No, it's just him. I think he's just mad that people listened to me and not him. Yeah, I - all right. Bye."

He hangs up the phone, leaning in with one arm braced against the wall, a long line of tension.

"Steve?" Eddie says quietly.

Steve turns to face him, giving a little crooked smile. "You can ask if you want. I don't mind you and Robin knowing. It's… easier sometimes, if she expects it, and it's probably the same with you."

Eddie aches a little. "What was your dad talking about? What ground to make up for?"

Steve makes a face. "I did a lot of damage to the Harrington image the last bit of high school, you know. Stopped caring about my reputation, didn't get accepted into any of the colleges they wanted me to go to, kept getting into fights."

"But that wasn't - did they even ask you what actually happened?" Eddie asks.

"They don't care what actually happened," Steve replies. "Just what it looked like. Like I said, it's all about appearances with them. My dad's the main reason I worked at Scoops instead of being a lifeguard again last summer - he says it's because I needed a real life experience, learn what it means to work at the bottom, but he was just pissy and trying to humiliate me. He talks a big game about working hard, but all he really cares about is how I make them look. Now that I've gotten good press twice, he's happy again."

Eddie's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. "He didn't even ask if you were okay."

Steve shrugs. "I looked fine in the papers."

Right.

Appearances.

"Will you be mad at me if I punch your dad if I ever see him?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, a surprised little sound like he's startled by it. "No," he says. "But only if I get to punch yours for leaving you."

Oh.

If Eddie was thinking about it, he'd have moved slowly, making sure to telegraph what he was doing so he didn't startle Steve, but he reacts on instinct and pulls Steve into a hug.

Steve doesn't even flinch at the sudden motion. He just melts into it, letting Eddie wrap him up and hold him tightly. His arms come up to cross over Eddie's shoulder blades, the placement automatically mindful of his injuries in the way only someone who's bandaged them multiple times could be.

"Sometimes I wish they just wouldn't call at all," Steve admits, face buried in Eddie's neck. It comes out in a rush, like he hadn't really thought about it before he said it, but he's getting it out anyway. "That they'd just cut me out of their life, instead of stringing me along."

"Fuck them," Eddie says. "I've got you."

He can hear Steve swallow, and Steve hugs him tighter.

They stay like that for a long while, until Eddie finally pulls back.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'll get the food and stuff. Go upstairs and see Robin."

Steve looks uncertain. "You sure?"

Eddie hugs him one more time. "You've got two soulmates," he murmurs. "Let us take care of you a little, okay?"

Steve squeezes him tight, then lets go with a nod before heading upstairs.

Eddie dithers in the kitchen for a bit, taking an extra long time. Whatever his complicated feelings are, it doesn't bother him at all to give Steve and Robin some space like this.

They're talking when he comes back, which isn't a surprise, and he hears his own name as he gets closer to the bedroom. Eddie pauses, even though he shouldn't, listening through the cracked door. He'll feel worse about it later, probably, but right now the masochistic side of him can't resist the urge to know what they're saying about him.

"I want him so much, Robs," he hears Steve saying, low and soft like he's trying to be quiet.

"I know," Robin replies, her tone somehow managing to be both gentle and snarky at the same time. "It's kind of pathetic."

Steve lets out a muffled groan. "Not helping. I don't exactly have the greatest track record at being able to get over people! I thought, with my soulmate-"

He cuts off, and Eddie can't help the bubbling anger that springs up. Steve thought? Has he stopped for one second to think about how Eddie might feel, only ever having a platonic soulmate? Wanting him just as bad and not being able to have him, not being able to have anyone?

"-someone else?" Robin is saying, like she's reading his thoughts, and Eddie has to hold his breath as he makes sure he hadn't accidentally said that outloud.

"I don't want anyone else," Steve says miserably. "Just him. I think - I think it's always going to be him. Fuck, why does this have to be so complicated?"

There's a heavy, thick silence, and Eddie's anger simmers and crackles under his skin, the way it always does when there's a hefty mixing of guilt in it.

"Do you think-" Robin starts, then stops. "Do you wish-" She stops again, voice thick with emotion. "Would it be easier if we-"

"No," Steve says, cutting her off at the same time that Eddie realizes what she's probably trying to bring herself to ask.

There's the muffled sound of shuffling, quiet hitching breaths - probably the motions of Steve trying to reassure one of his soulmates that he wants her, and he imagines him gathering her close, pressing soft kisses anywhere he can reach, cutting off anything she tries to say with a deeper, fiercer kiss.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper to keep himself from making some kind of sound to give himself away. He hates that he doesn't know what he's feeling - hates that he thinks he's jealous of Robin just as much as he doesn't feel jealous of her, not really. He's jealous of the images he conjures when he thinks about them together, but he's never actually jealous when he's with them, when he watches them.

That reminder makes him shift, peeking through the cracked door so he can see them. They're sitting facing each other, legs all tangled together. One of Steve's hands is covering Robin's heart, and the other is curled around one of Robin's hands, pinning it to his chest over his own heart, and their foreheads are pressed together.

Something in Eddie settles in a way he can't explain, all thoughts of jealousy gone.

"There's no me without you," Steve is saying. "You're a part of me, Robs, I can't do this without either of you."

She says something too muffled for Eddie to make out.

"I'm happy. I really am, I promise. I love you, I love us, exactly the way we are. And with Eddie-"

Eddie leans forward, too desperate to know what he's going to say to worry about being caught.

"I don't need anything else other than just him. However I can have him. If it's never romantic, if this is us forever - it doesn't matter, not really. I just need you and him, and the kids, and I'm good."

There's silence, the two of them just completely wrapped up in each other, and fuck, Eddie - he thinks you know what, if this is it, if what he has is Steve and Robin and the kids forever, then he's good, too.

"I love you, Robin Buckley," Steve says. "In a way I never realized was possible, until you and that dumb kid showed up in my life and taught me that you don't have to do anything to earn someone's love. That sometimes, it's just unconditional."

Steve was sixteen when he fought his first demogorgon, Eddie remembers that. Which means he couldn't have been any younger than that when he started really spending any time with Dustin or Robin, which means - the same thing that Eddie went through when he first moved in with Uncle Wayne, the thing that was so impossible for him to believe at twelve, Steve wasn't shown until he was probably seventeen.

Fuck, his heart aches.

"Does Henderson know he was your first true love?" Robin asks, her voice a little wet, but obviously trying to make things a little lighter.

Steve laughs, the sound just a bit thick. "No, and he'd be insufferable if I told him."

There's the faint sting of a new lie being written on the back of his calf, and the second he registers it, he hears Robin's startled laughter. Eddie pulls back from the door, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to get himself back under control.

"Oh my God, Steve, you did tell him! When?"

He can hear Steve sputtering and deflecting, the sound of Robin smacking him and Steve scrambling - probably trying to avoid them - and if there was ever going to be a good time to announce his return after shamelessly listening in for too long, now is probably it.

Eddie pushes open the door, six pack under one arm and bags of popcorn and chips under the other as he shoots a hopefully only slightly manic grin at them. "What's Steve lying about now?"

"Nothing!" Steve says too quickly.

Sloppy, for him, considering Eddie knows how good Steve usually is at using sarcasm or half truths to avoid telling lies, so Eddie tosses the bag of popcorn at him.

He catches it easily, of course, but it means he's now vulnerable to Robin's attacks, and he has to swerve to avoid another slap to his shoulder.

"Steve's trying to pretend like we both didn't get that lie, too," Robin says.

Steve groans. "Fine, Jesus. It was back when we were waiting at the camper, and Dustin was upset. I told him that he was the first person who was ever just - there, in my life because he wanted to be, even after he didn't need me to fight demodogs. No one could ever replace him."

"You're such a sap, Steve," Eddie teases him as he comes to sit next to him and Robin.

"Shut up," Steve grumbles. "That's it, I'm picking the movie."

—

The next day, Lucas and Max swing by. Steve hauls a basketball stand out of the garage and sets it up in the driveway, and Eddie sits at the kitchen table, eating a bologna sandwich while he watches them play.

It's safer inside, where there's no one to see if he gets affected by Steve's tank top and shorts.

Or at least, he thought it was safer inside.

"Do you love Steve?" Max asks, plopping down beside him.

Eddie chokes on his Coke, and she stares at him unsympathetically until he manages to breathe again.

"He's my soulmate, so." Eddie shrugs.

Max gives him an unimpressed look, and yeah, okay, he figures they both know soulmates aren't a guarantee of anything. Eddie's parents were soulmates, after all, loved each other more than anything else in this world, and that still hadn't been enough.

"I wanted him to be my soulmate before I knew it was him," he admits, because that's a more true answer without actually having to say yes or no. "Nothing's happened since to change that."

She gets this look on her face like she's trying to decide if that's an acceptable response. After a moment, she rests her chin on her knees, staring out the window, and Eddie figures he's in the clear.

"Steve has two soulmates," she says after a while. "You don't. Doesn't that make you feel - I don't know, like you aren't enough?"

"Jesus Christ, Red, you're not pulling any punches today, are you?" Eddie swears.

He doesn't actually want to have this conversation. It's not something he's completely sorted out on his own, yet, even though he's done a lot of thinking on it, and he's tempted to tell her to mind her own business.

But she won't look at him, and he knows why she's asking. She's not talking about him and Steve and Robin, not really.

He thinks about telling her something standard about soulmates, or maybe even the advice that his uncle gave him, but it doesn't feel right.

"It's not what I always imagined," Eddie admits slowly.

Max doesn't say anything, but he watches the way she starts to unwind a little, how she doesn't hold herself so stiff, tilts a little to actually listen to what he's saying.

"You know Steve and I talked to each other when we were younger. We thought the same way about a lot of stuff, and I had this idea in my head that he was some little outcast like me, in another small town somewhere out there, that we'd move to a big city and find each other. But then we stopped talking."

"How come?" Max asks, looking caught up despite herself.

Eddie grins at her, wide and self depreciating. "I found out he was probably some rich, popular jerk, and decided I hated him."

And there's that unimpressed look again.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie grumbles. "Let's just say there might be some truth to not talking with your soulmate before you actually meet them. Point is, for almost five years, I hated my soulmate. Thought the best I could hope for was that we'd meet when we were thirty and ancient, and maybe then he would have changed. Then a little while ago, I met Steve."

Max's brows furrow. "You met Steve way before that."

"Nah," he says. "I knew of Steve. I had a lot of assumptions about him, knew what I thought he was, but I didn't know the real Steve. That Steve I met when he helped explain all of this to me and didn't make me feel stupid for not picking up some of it right away, even after I held a broken bottle to his throat."

She snorts, but looks like she's considering that. "I met him when he was putting himself between me, Lucas, and Dustin and a hoard of demodogs, a couple of hours after calling them dickheads and me some random girl."

Eddie salutes her with his can of Coke, half in understanding and half to cover the way his heart wants to melt again. "That Steve was nothing like I imagined my soulmate to be, when I was daydreaming about him or hating him. But I knew I didn't want anyone else, and Steve having another soulmate doesn't change that. I don't think it makes what he feels for me any less than what I feel for him, and I don't think it means I'm less important to him than he is to me."

Max frowns. "Really, or are you just saying that?"

"Really," Eddie says, though he hadn't actually been sure it was true until he heard himself say it. "I'm not saying it's not hard sometimes. And sometimes I get in my head about it. But I wouldn't change it. Steve wouldn't be the same without Robin, you know? He wouldn't be the Steve that made me want him to be my soulmate so bad."

There's a long moment of silence. Then, "Would you be saying that if both of his soulmates were romantic?"

Eddie's glad he stopped drinking, because he knows he would have choked again. For a split second, she wonders if she's picked up on - but no, that still isn't what this about. "Are both of yours romantic?"

Her jaw juts forward, arms hugging tighter around her knees. "What if they were?"

Fuck, he doesn't know what to say to that. "It's okay to like both guys and girls," he says, because he feels like that's the most important bit. "I do. I mean, mostly guys, but sometimes girls."

Her grip loosens a little, but she still doesn't say anything.

"It sounds like maybe I'm not the one you should be talking to about that," he says carefully.

She scowls. "I talked to Steve already."

Right, of course she did.

"What did Steve say?"

"Steve said he thinks the line between platonic and romantic soulmates isn't as straightforward as people like to pretend it is. That sometimes what you might think should be romantic is actually platonic, and sometimes what you think should be platonic is romantic, and sometimes there's going to be things that blur the lines and you don't really know which one it is. He said it was okay to have two platonic or two romantic or one of each or, like, any combination." She makes a face here, like she's not entirely sure what he meant by any combination - or like she was sure, and didn't need that much detail. "That as long as everyone was communicating, it was okay to do whatever worked for us."

Eddie swallows. "Steve sounds pretty smart."

Max rolls her eyes. "He has his moments."

"So… are you communicating with Lucas and El?" he asks.

She picks at a rip in her jeans. "I talked to Lucas."

He waits, but it seems like that's all he's going to get. He starts to ask what Lucas said, but… he gets the feeling that it's not necessarily about what he said or not.

"But it's Lucas," Eddie says. "And you wanted to hear how someone else in a familiar situation felt."

Eddie gets that familiar, itchy feeling that he does when he wants to run, and he only barely resists the urge to bounce his leg up and down. It's not that he wants to run from Max, or even from this conversation, it's just - it's starting to make him think about things, and he really, really doesn't want an audience for this. He wants to lock himself in a room and pace, listen to some music, maybe scribble out his thoughts, something to get his hands moving and his brain in some kind of order -

"Even if Steve wanted both of us romantically," he says, knowing it's close enough that it's not a lie. "I would still rather be his soulmate than anyone else."

Max looks at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "I'm gonna ask Steve if you lied about that."

Eddie fixes her with an unimpressed look right back. "You think I'd do that to him?"

"You better not." There's an edge of menace in her tone, but she lets it go, so Eddie figures she doesn't really think he'd lie about something like that knowing it would be etched on Steve's skin forever.

Silence stretches between them, and Eddie follows her gaze out the window, watching Steve and Lucas playing basketball.

"I've put him through so much already," Max says, so quietly that he can barely hear it.

Fuck, Eddie is so fucking soft for these kids.

"You have not," Eddie says immediately. "You haven't done a goddamn thing, Red. Both of you have already been through so much, and it's not because of something either of you did. It's fucking Hawkins."

She doesn't look convinced, so Eddie pushes his shoulder against hers.

"Lucas is smart. He's more emotionally intelligent than I am-" Max snorts at him, and he's reasonably sure he hears her mutter something along the lines of like that's hard, but he ignores her. "He knows what he can take and what he can't. All you have to do is believe him when he tells you it."

She's quiet for a moment, looking contemplative. Then she asks, "Does that work for you?"

Right, yeah, okay, he deserved that one. He thinks about deflecting, but -

"I'm trying," he admits quietly. "What do you think, huh, you gonna let me beat you there or are we gonna do this together?"

Max glances out the window again, then turns to look back at him, her chin jutting out. "Steve loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often. I don't think he really believes that we love him as much as he loves us, even though we do."

She says it like a threat, like she's saying if you tell him I said that I will kill you or maybe if you hurt him I will kill you. Either way, he'd be dead.

"I'll talk to Lucas and El, and you make sure you don't disappoint him."

Goddamn if that doesn't stab right to the heart of him, lodging itself beneath his ribcage and sticking right into the parts that'd already made him want to run from this conversation.

"Okay," he manages to get out, because he's not sure he'll survive any other answer.

Max nods. "Good talk," she tells him, and then she pushes herself up and she's gone.

Eddie stays there, mulling all of that over. He doesn't think she'd actually tell Steve anything they just talked about, nor does he think she really has any idea that Steve had asked him to make their bond romantic and he'd turned him down. Honestly, Eddie could probably get away with patting himself on the back for actually managing to give some decent advice and be the person she'd needed him to be for just a little while, then go on being a very devoted platonic soulmate for Steve.

Except even if Max doesn't really know, Eddie does. And now Eddie's thinking about things he doesn't want to, and wondering how much of a hypocrite some of the advice that he gave her makes him, and -

"Hey," Lucas says, and Eddie yelps.

Lucas raises his eyebrows at him.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that," Eddie bitches.

There's a little smirk, but fortunately, Lucas doesn't actually comment on it. "You talk to Max?" he asks instead.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, narrowing his eyes at him.

Lucas lights up, though, his whole face practically beaming with his smile. "Good. I figured it'd help her to hear that your soulmate cares about you no matter what from someone who wasn't me."

Eddie raises one eyebrow. "How do you know that's what I said?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Because you're Steve's soulmate. If that wasn't the way you felt, Robin would know, and she'd have already murdered you."

Eddie considers that. "Okay, fair."

Lucas makes his way over to the fridge, yanking it open and standing in front of it as he peers in. "So what did you tell her?"

Eddie sits back, waiting until Lucas turns to look back at him so he can shoot him a wide, smug grin. "If she wants you to know, she'll tell you."

He gets a glare in return, but Lucas doesn't protest that, just leans back in to grab a pair of Gatorades from the fridge. He twists the top off of one, taking a long swallow before he shuts the door and starts back out of the kitchen, giving him a little nod as he passes.

"Hey, Lucas?" Eddie calls before he can leave.

Lucas pauses, looking quizzically at him.

"I'm guessing you talk to Steve like Max does, about all this." Eddie makes an exaggerated gesture between them and out the kitchen window, meant to loop all of them in together. "But, uh. You know. If you ever want a different perspective, from someone in kind of your position."

He motions to himself, then splays his hands out all ta-da.

Lucas hesitates, lingering in the middle of the kitchen before he seems to make a decision.

"I was kind of upset about it when I first found out Max's other soulmate was El," he admits. "It was right after Billy died, and their soulmate bond was new, and Max kept letting El in while she was shutting me out. And I was angry, and jealous, and then when El had to leave and Max kept pushing me away, I just kept thinking that if El was here Max wouldn't be by herself so much, that the wrong soulmate got to stay in Hawkins."

Lucas pauses, twisting the Gatorades in his hand, but Eddie gets the feeling it's a gathering his thoughts pause more than a waiting for Eddie to say something pause.

"Eventually I realized that El could help Max in a way that I couldn't, and that maybe that was the point. I started calling El a little, too, when the phone wasn't busy, and just - El was grieving, too. I didn't want to feel jealous over something that helped them both anymore. It's been good with El back, really good. I don't know if I like El like that, but if Max does-" he shrugs. "I guess I kind of already got over the jealousy bit. It doesn't really matter to me if they kiss while they're having sleepovers or not, as long as they don't exclude me."

Now it seems like a waiting for Eddie to say something pause, so he gives a soft little hum. "What do you do if you end up feeling excluded?"

Lucas blinks, like he wasn't expecting that question. "Uh. Well, before, I talked to my parents and sometimes to Steve or Robin or Dustin. It's hard talking to Mike or Will about it because they're not all that objective about El stuff. I don't… really know if I want to tell my parents about Max and El like that yet, so I guess… talk to Steve or Robin or Dustin." He pauses, then, more tentatively, "Or you?"

Fuck, these kids keep getting to him. "Or me," he agrees easily. "But you should probably also add talk to Max and El to that list."

Lucas makes a face, but doesn't disagree. "I don't think a lot of the others know about Max," he says instead. "Just me and Steve and Robin, and now you."

There's an edge to his voice, like he's pretty sure Eddie must be safe if Max told him, but he's ready to fight him about it anyway.

"Max knows about me, now, so we're even," Eddie replies, pleased that the effort he puts into making sure his voice sounds steady pays off.

"Yeah?" Lucas asks. "Who else knows?"

"Steve and Robin. And now Max and you," Eddie replies.

Lucas lights up a little. "Cool."

"Cool," Eddie echoes, even though he feels a little shaky from the fact that he's now said it twice today, which is double the amount of times he's ever said it before at all.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment.

"It's complicated, being in our position," Eddie says after a bit. "I think it's always going to be complicated. But if we let it - I think it could be really great, too. Most people only end up in pairs, but us? We get a whole damn party of interconnected soulmates."

"A party of soulmates," Lucas says thoughtfully, then grins. "Yeah, I like that."

"You're a good kid, Lucas," Eddie tells him, not sure if he really needs to hear it, but he still remembers the way it made him feel when Uncle Wayne said it.

Lucas ducks his head, looking a little pleased, even though he follows it up with a sidelong look. "Even though I'm kind of a jock?"

Eddie shrugs. "My soulmate is a whole jock. I guess that means I've got a little jock in me, too."

Lucas's expression shifts, turning mischievous, and suddenly he looks like the fifteen year old boy he is, and not a world-weary adult. It's nice, it's wonderful, Eddie loves to see it, except it makes him realize what he just said far, far too late to do anything about it.

In his defense, they were having a serious discussion, and -

Yeah, he's got nothing.

Maybe it'll be fine? Lucas is probably the most mature out of all of the boys, maybe -

"I don't know, man," Lucas says, slowly, like he's actually considering that. "We've all heard the rumors about Steve. I don't think it's something little you're gonna be dealing with."

Eddie gapes at him.

"I said you were mature," he bemoans, flinging his upper body over the top of the kitchen table just to make Lucas laugh harder. "I told Max you were emotionally intelligent! Begone from my sight!"

Lucas takes his Gatorades and leaves, still laughing at him.

—

"Max cornered me in the kitchen to threaten me today," Eddie says.

Steve snorts. "Of course she did. What about?"

Eddie shrugs, waiting for Steve to look at him so he can waggle his eyebrows at him. "She also threatened to kill me if I told you."

Steve shoves him, and Eddie falls back dramatically, sprawling out on the couch. He props himself up on his elbows to look at Steve, but he doesn't seem inclined to actually push him to reveal what he and Max talked about. Instead, Steve goes about shutting down for the night, checking to make sure all the windows and the sliding glass door are locked.

"Soulmate stuff," Eddie says. Or more like blurts out, before he can change his mind, to force himself to have to keep going. "She told me what you said about the line between platonic and romantic soulmates. Made me think about some things."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, stopping by the couch to look at him.

"Do you still want me, Steve?" Eddie asks, his heart in his throat.

He isn't prepared for Steve to shut down, for the way his face goes cold and hard and blank.

"Not cool, Eddie," Steve says, turning away and going back to the windows in the living room.

Eddie pushes himself up off the couch, then immediately doubts himself and sits back down. "Steve, what?"

Steve won't look at him, and he can hear the window locks rattling with the force that Steve's using to check them. "You're being a dick, man, come on. You can't ask me stuff like that."

"I-" he starts, then stops, his mind scrambling a little. Is he too late? Did Steve move on already, even though he told Robin that he wasn't going to? Is Eddie so easy to get over that even his fucking soulmate couldn't keep him? "What happened to it's always going to be him, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, incredulous, and Eddie kind of wants to cry a little because he knows that Steve has started saying that more because of all the time they've spent together. "You were listening to me and Robin? What the fuck, man, you still think it's fair to throw that at me?"

"Fuck you, Steve, I know it wasn't a lie when you said that. Am I so fucking easy to just stop wanting, or are you that fucking fickle?"

"Eddie, goddamn, is this - were you testing me? Is this you lashing out at me again? Because I can't, okay, not about this, I can't-" he cuts off, one hand scrubbing over his face. "I told you, I can't."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"Steve, no, I wasn't teasing, I - it was a real question."

Steve stills, pausing right by a window. The light of the moon catches on him, highlighting parts of him in pale silver while the rest of him is warmed from the soft yellow of the living room lamp. "Seriously?"

"Come on, Steve. I just picked a fight with you instead of asking what you meant, and you're surprised I'm not sure you still want me anymore?"

Eddie can hear Steve breathing out, then in, then back out again, watches as he lets some of the tension bleed out of his body. "I think I picked some of that fight right back. I'm sorry, I just - all right, let's go back, and I'll listen without making assumptions, okay?"

Yeah, okay, Eddie can do that.

"Max told me what you said," Eddie starts again. "And it made me think about how smart you are." He wishes Steve were closer, so he could see his face better, at the same time as he wishes he couldn't see it at all. "How brave you are. How when you know what you want, you go for it, how you fight to keep it, how you own up when you make a mistake, how you work so hard to make all this work."

This is Eddie trying to be brave, he thinks. Trying to go for what he wants, to accept that they're going to have to work at this, that he's probably going to get hurt, that he has to trust that Steve will be willing to work past whatever it is that springs up.

It takes him a little too long, though, because after a few moments, Steve gently prompts, "Eddie?"

"Do you still want me?" he asks again. He didn't mean to, but it comes out anyway, all small and tentative.

"Eds," Steve breathes out. "I'm always going to want you."

He loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often, Max had said, and Eddie swallows down the urge to ask him if he means it, if he'll still mean it the next time Eddie picks a fight, or every time he's an ass.

"I'm always going to want you, too," Eddie says.

Steve's hands twitch, and he looks like he's waiting for something - for a lie to show up on his skin, Eddie realizes, and Eddie knows he's going to have to do better than that.

"I want you," he says again. "Steve, I want you. I'll take you any way I can get you, but I just - this is stupid, I'm stupid. I'm making us both miserable because I was scared."

He's not surprised that's what gets Steve moving, and he comes over to sit by him on the couch.

"You're not stupid," Steve replies. "Not for being scared."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, but I am for giving into it. So I might get hurt, so what? I'm already hurting, wanting you so bad and not getting to have you, knowing you'd probably let me kiss you and not letting myself go for it."

Steve's looking at him, eyes all sharp and intense, like he's really listening to Eddie's every word, and hell if it doesn't make him feel just a little bit drunk on it.

"Talking with Max made me realize that I trust you. I trust you, with my life, with - fucking everything. I trust you to work through this with me, to figure out what works for us."

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah?" he asks after a moment. "You really - you want to do this?"

"So fucking much," Eddie says.

Steve's whole face lights up in a smile, and he leans in, one hand resting on Eddie's knee. "That mean I can kiss you now?"

Eddie barely manages to get out a please before Steve's other hand is sliding over his jaw, slipping back to push his fingers into his hair and cup the side of his face. Steve holds him there as he kisses him, and it's-

It's not Eddie's first kiss. But it's his first kiss that's ever really meant anything, and the soft brush of Steve's lips against his makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Steve gives a little hum, low in his throat, and then he's tilting his head to get a better angle, and holy shit.

Eddie pushes forward eagerly, deepening the kiss until they're both panting for breath, and even then they don't pull away. Their foreheads press together, lips parted and just barely touching as they share the same air. His eyes have closed at some point, but now he opens them to find Steve looking back at him, and Eddie smiles.

"How long do you think until Robin notices we haven't come up?" he asks.

"I'm okay with figuring that out," Steve replies, closing the tiny bit of distance between them to kiss him again.

I've got a pretty good handle on the outline for the rest of this now, so I'd say we've got about four more parts left!

-----

Part 24

Tag list (always happy to add more): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #robin buckley #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #background lumax #hints of elmax and elumax #platonic soulmates stobin #steddie soulmate au

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holylulusworld · 5 months

Text

Big grumpy bear (5)

Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, scenting, fluff, idiots in love (Walter)

Catch up here: Big grumpy bear (4)

Big grumpy bear masterlist

“What did I say? I told you to get a rest!” Walter scolds as you try to sneak out of the guest room to make dinner for the grumpy alpha. “I see you.” He tuts when you try to hide behind the door. “Come here.”

“I wanted to make dinner,” you grumble. “I slept an hour or so…”

“An hour is not enough,” he lifts his index finger to lecture you. You said the same thing some weeks ago, and now it’s time for a payback. “Go back to bed and sleep some more.”

“I’m good…achoo,” you sneeze loudly. “Really. I can make dinner.” You press your hand to your mouth and try to suppress a cough. “Please let me take care of you.”

“What was that?” He’s in front of you in three long steps to look you up and down. Walter cups your chin and tilts your head. “Are you sick?” He leans closer to look at your runny nose. “You are sick.”

“Just a sore throat and a runny nose. It’s nothing. Really,” you don’t sound convincing when you start sneezing again. “I had it worse.”

Walter’s eyes darken. He doesn’t believe a single thing leaves your lips. “You are lying!” He snarls.

“I’m not…”

Pressing the back of his hand to your forehead he huffs loudly. “Do not lie to me, omega!”

You whine. He looks even more intimidating when angry. Walter is so tall and beefy and his scent just got stronger. His nostrils flare and you fear he's mad at you.

“I should go home before I infect you too,” you softly say. “You’re better now, and I’m no needed any longer. Maybe Rachel will gladly take my place—” You squeak when he scoops you up without any effort.

Walter carries you toward his bedroom, ignoring that you wiggle in his hold. “You’re stubborn and don’t take good care of yourself. I’ll restrain you to my bed if you don’t rest.”

“What?” you wrap your arms around his neck and look at him, eyes wide and glassy. “Will you use your handcuffs?” You lean closer to sniff at his neck.

“You’d like that, huh?” He grins wolfishly. “If you are a bad girl, I’ll do it. But I know you are going to be a good girl for me and follow my orders.” Walter cocks a brow and looks at you in his arms. “Right?”

You shudder. It’s the first time you have his full attention, and you can’t help it. You purr in response. “Uh-I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, but a cute one.” He carefully places you on his bed. You regret that you changed the sheets this morning. His scent is gone, and you mourn the dirty sheets. “I’ll take care of you. They want me to do desk work for another two weeks. I can work from home. This way I can take good care of you.”

Walter watches you like a hawk. He forced you to lie down and covered you with not one but two blankets. The alpha even scolded you when you tried to get up to use the toilet.

Now he’s carrying a tray with food, freshly brewed tea, and medicine inside the room.

“I got you the medicine you wanted and made a chicken soup. You’ll drink tea too. It’s with honey,” he explains while placing the tray on the bed.

“You made soup?” You sniff. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Well, I ordered the soup. I’m not much of a cook,” Walter sheepishly admits. “I’ll try to cook something with the ingredients you got for lunch tomorrow.”

“I can help,” you hastily say, before coughing again. “We can cook together, alpha.”

“You’ll stay in bed and rest,” he presses his index finger to your lips when you try to protest. “No discussion. Now eat the soup, and do not forget to drink the water. You need to stay hydrated. After you eat, you’ll take the medicine.”

“You’re a strict nurse,” you grumble while a smile creeps onto your face. Walter cocks a brow but says nothing. “The soup smells good. Thank you.”

“I’ll get me some food too. We can eat together,” he offers, making your heart flutter. “I got some leftovers from the food you made. It was deliciously.”

It feels like a dream come true. Walter sits next to you on the bed, feasting on the leftovers while you sip your tea. It’s a little too sweet, but you have a whole life to tell him how you like your tea.

“That’s nice,” you say between sips. “Really nice. You’re good at taking care of people.”

Walter stops eating for a moment. His eyes drop to your neck, and he hums before stuffing more food into his mouth. The alpha tries to ignore your words make him proud and that he’d love to bury his face in your neck and more.

“You should drink your tea, and get some more sleep,” he says instead of all the things running through his mind. “I’ll be watching you.”

“…watching me?”

He clears his throat. “Only to make sure you won’t get up. You must rest well.”

“So warm…and…” you wake up because you’re warm. Too warm. Almost like you are wrapped in a heating pillow.

Your eyes snap open feeling Walter’s breath in your neck. He has his arms wrapped around your body and holds you tight. His warm chest presses against your back, and you can’t ignore the prominent erection pressed against your thigh.

“Oh…my.” You whimper. He feels big - like really big. “What it feels like to have him…” you shake your head. If you think about this right now, you are going to slick for the alpha and wake him. “I want to take all of him…”

“You will,” he rasps in your neck. “Soon.” His breath tickles your neck. “I’m gonna make you mine.”

You don’t know if this is a dream or real. The fever was very high the last time Walter checked on you. But you don’t care. You allow yourself to let go for once and let Walter hold you even tighter.

“I will, when I’m healthy again,” you challenge, and close your eyes.

His teeth and lips graze your mating gland, causing you to shudder.

Walter kisses your neck, and hums as you push back into him to rub your ass against his erection.

“If you don’t stop,” he mumbles against your skin, “I’ll take you right here and now. Don’t make me lose control. I want to do this the right way…”

FIN

Tags in reblog.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x omega!reader #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #Big grumpy bear (5)#alpha!walter marshall #a/b/o #female reader

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tragedybunny · 5 months

Text

A Merry Little Solstice - Astarion x F!Reader - BG3HolidayFluffle23 - Prompt: Chosen Family

So excited to participate in the Challenge, not sure if I'll get to more than one piece but I love this one I did. Thanks to @rachelle-on-the-run for the Beta!

Summary: Even though you and Astarion have been together a few years, this is the first time you'll be celebrating Solstice together, for a very special reason. The two of you are doing your best to make it a warm and wonderful celebration.

“What do you think?” Astarion is fussing over the distribution of small, glass ornaments and candles on the large pine tree taking up most of your parlor.

“I think it looks wonderful, Star.” You can already see his tendency for the grandiose creeping in, and don’t want him to worry about overdoing it. At least you’d convinced him to close down the bookshop, the two of you ran out of the building next door for a few days while you celebrate. It was a newer venture that you had taken on lately, as you’d settled down in Baldur’s Gate after a few years of adventuring.

“I suppose, the tree could be a bit bigger, though,” he mumbles, shifting a few of the baubles around. All the effort, and probably a good amount of nerves, making him prickly.

“It’s plenty big, and Jaheira didn’t have to grow it for us.” The pine had been a little seedling, given the growth of years in moments by Druid magic.

“Well, it was Mother’s idea in the first, so we could celebrate Solstice properly.” Mother, he says sarcastically, like he doesn’t grin when she calls him nicknames or get teary-eyed when she hugs him good-bye to go out on Harper business. There wasn’t any grand declaration when Jaheira decided she was adopting Astarion with the rest of her brood, but there was no stopping her from embracing it when she’d made up her mind. Not that it hasn’t done him a world of good, even if he doesn’t always like to admit it.

“My Love, it was your idea to actually celebrate Solstice this year.” Astarion had, until this year, not been very fond of Holidays. A stance you decided you could live with, as your own experiences hadn’t been very warm and wonderful. This year, though, things were different. “The tree looks wonderful,” a sudden little squeal followed by soft babbling came from the bassinet behind you, “and Estelle thinks so too.” It was Estelle’s first Solstice, and you both had decided it was time to make some better Holiday memories.

Astarion hurries to retrieve her before she can demand it. He’s notorious for baby hoarding, and sometimes you have to remind him it’s your turn to hold the child you gave birth too. “You’re hardly qualified to have an opinion, Sweetie.” He wags his finger in front of her nose, and she grabs it quickly in return with a happy little trill, refusing to let go.

When you’d first been able to lay eyes on her, it was already apparent she was a miniature version of Astarion, his features, pale skin, and wispy white hair that had grown into the beginnings of lush curls. The only thing that looked like you were bright blue eyes, which had relieved him to no end. “Red eyes would mark her as different far too obviously.” It was nice to see one part of yourself in her, though you didn’t mind that she was so much of him.

Estelle was now suckling on Astarion’s outstretched finger. “Close to feeding time, you’ll have to relinquish her for a little,” you give him a saucy smile and settle on the couch to prep.

Apparently he didn’t move quick enough for your offspring, as he hisses and gives Estelle the weakest glare you’ve ever seen him make. “Everyone is always telling me biting without permission is rude, I hardly think it’s fair you get away with it, Little Lady.”

“Think of it as repayment for past misdeed,” you laugh as you begin to open your shirt.

“Are you still holding that night against me, my dearest wife? That’s ruthlessly unfair,” he settles next to you, waiting for you to finish before putting Estelle in your arms.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling husband” you bat your eyes at him and play innocent until you feel the stinging bite of the two tiny teeth she's recently grown. Estelle is apparently equitably minded about causing pain this evening. “Ouch,” you whisper, not wanting to disturb her evening meal.

Beside you, Astarion’s mood visibly falters. “What are we going to do when she grows fangs?”

You certainly aren't looking forward to it, but the love of your life was still considerably nervous about what the future would hold for your little Dhampir. “What we always do, get through it.”

“You're very confident.”

“Well, I did save the world once.”

He finally gives you a smile. “We, Darling, I was there too. I suppose you're right, though.” He turns his attention to intently watching his daughter nurse. “We've come this far.” Leaning in, he gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, carefully not to upset her. “Besides the tree, how does everything else look?”

The parlor, dining room, hallway, and library had all been draped in festive boughs of evergreen with golden ribbon and strands of silvery beads. It was just this side of too much, but it was very Astarion. “Everything looks fantastic, Love. It's going to be a wonderful holiday. Now we’ll just have to keep Scratch and Midnight out of it.”

“Speak for your own mutt,” Scratch whined where he lay in front of the crackling fire place. “Midnight is a perfectly well-behaved tressym.”

Midnight, the tressym that had prowled Szarr manor, the Spawn siblings had kept their fondness for the creature from Cazador. They’d decided not to take her into the Underdark, and she’d ended up in your custody along with Scratch. She was, despite Astarion’s protests, not perfect. “Oh, I’m sure, she’s never any trouble.”

“Hush,” he pretended to pout before sighing. “Odd that I get to walk in the sun again, and now we're celebrating the longest night of the year.” He gave the room one last appraising glance. “Gods, we’re really going to squeeze everyone in here.”

“At least Halsin promised to leave the Owlbear behind.” Estelle had finished eating and Astarion passed you a cloth to burp her with.

“Gale still insisted on coming early to cook. We could handle it, you know.” The complaints tell you he really is quite nervous.

“We could, or we could spend more time with Little Lady here,” who punctuated your words with an undignified burp.

“Point taken Sunlight.” You pass Estelle to his waiting arms so you can close your shirt.

In the soft candlelight of the winter evening, Astarion looks absolutely ethereal. For a precious few moments, you just study him and your daughter. Since the moment she was born, he'd absolutely adored her. Fear still haunted him, fear her life would be too difficult as a Dhampir, fear he would fail as a father, but he tried his best every day. And those days when he did falter, when bad memories surfaced, when his temper was short, you were by his side. Not that you didn't have your share of fears and shadows from your past, but you knew he'd be there for you the way you were for him. Your bond made you both stronger.

Right now, though, everything felt perfect. It was going to be the happiest Solstice you'd even known.

A few days later saw you up before dawn on the morning of Solstice. Estelle had decided it was play time at an ungodly hour and now you, Astarion, and Scratch, were all gathered around a blanket spread on your parlor rug entertaining her. Your attention wanders for a moment, and she squeals at you. “Oh, I know, you have to be the center of the universe. You're very much your Father’s daughter,” you reach down and tickle her tummy.

“Or maybe she knows she's worth it, like her Mother,” he blows you a kiss and your heart flutters like the first time you let him sink his teeth into you.

“Flattery…” an unexpected knock at the door interrupts you.

Scratch lets out a quiet bark, careful not to startle Estelle. He learned quickly that a scared baby is a crying baby. “This early? The wizard has finally lost his mind.”

You both get to your feet, exchanging looks, it is unexpectedly early for Gale. Taking Estelle, you hang back as Astarion opens the door, Scratch at his side, ever vigilant.

Gale stands in pre-dawn darkness, one magical chest in his hand that contains everything you'll need for today. “You know, it's still dark out? We could've been asleep.” Astarion stares at him with narrowed eyes.

“Ah, but I see you are all awake and in good spirits,” he smiles awkwardly, and you get the impression that he's working up to something. “Besides, it was entirely necessary to arrive before dawn…”

“Really?” Astarion crosses his arms, waiting for further explanation.

“Astarion,” you kiss his cheek, “don't be so cross with him.”

“Give it a moment,” Gale mutters, and you both turn to him. “I mean that is…well…”

“Hells Gale,” a pale figure steps into the doorway with him, one that you recognize.

“Dal?” Astarion asks, and you can see confusion starting to give way to realization.

“Hello Astarion.”

“Alright, no use you two standing out in the cold, come in.” You look directly at Dalyria, a little unsure if the invitation needs renewal every so often. “Both of you.”

The two of them waste no time stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind them, shutting you off from the cold of the early morning.

Estelle coos happily at the company. “And hello to you too, my sweet little niece. She's getting so big.” Some of the siblings had made the trek up from the Underdark when Estelle was born, Dalyria among them. It was a strange dynamic of almost family that years after Cazador’s death they were still working out.

“Yes, yes, she's endlessly adorable. She is mine, after all. Now, what the bloody hell are the two of you doing here together?” His voice pitches up at the end, a sign he's exasperated. You almost lose your composure and giggle at his inability to see the obvious.

“Well, as it happens…” Gale inhales like he's about to launch into a very long-winded explanation.

“We've been seeing each other since your wedding. It felt like it was time to tell you.” To emphasize her point, she hooks her arm in Gale's.

“I see.” Astarion shoots you a look to see if you knew about this, and is evidently satisfied by your shrug.

“Don't be cross brother,” Dalyria lets go of Gale to pull him into a sudden hug, that he returns after a moment. “We just wanted to wait until we were sure of things”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you're forgiven.”

She kisses his cheek and releases him. “Thank you. Now, to not take away from the little daylight you'll get today, is there a place I can wait it out?”

“Estelle and I can show you up to the guest room,” you motion for her to follow. All the rooms in your house had shutters thick enough to block out the sun, remnants of Astarion’s recently relieved nocturnal life.

The guest room is a cozy little room tucked under the eves of the house, the last bedroom remaining after Estelle’s nursery was created out of the previous guest room. “Sorry, it’s a bit small.”

“Still better than a night in the Kennels, I’d wager,” she laughs.

Her words make you wince, sometimes you forget they all shared in the same torment, maybe not as often as Astarion, but still. “I imagine. I’m-”

“Don’t, I’m just making light of it.” You’ve never quite gotten to know her and the others all that well, your trips to the Underdark being sporadic at best, but now you glimpse that unbroken will that led her to look for a cure to her condition. “This is very nice of you, Gale and I will be perfectly comfortable.”

“We’ll come back up and check in once I’ve turned Gale loose in the kitchen,” Estelle shouts her agreement.

“Send my brother up if he needs a time-out from Gale.” The two of you laugh, and you head back downstairs, worried about that exact thing.

Astarion doesn’t disappoint as you find him in the kitchen, the first pink light of dawn peeping through the window, lending a flush to his skin as he pins Gale against a wall, dagger drawn. “And another thing, if ever even think of trying to compare her to Mystra...”

To his credit, Gale stands calmly, hands raised, and look imploringly at you. “I think you've gotten your point across, Love.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and releases your wizard friend. The dagger quickly disappears, you've learned over time that he never really got out of the habit of keeping one hidden on himself. “And you owe me at least two books back, my shop is not a library.”

“Right,” Gale straightens his clothing. “Now that's all settled, let's get started.” He hefts the small chest onto the kitchen table, and opens it. A space larger than the outside is contained within, a larder to do even the Grand Duke's shame. “I hope I remembered everything.”

The next several hours see the three of you prepping, roasting, sautéing, simmering, and baking. Although Gale truthfully does most of the heavy lifting, you and Astarion are both very much middling still when it comes to the kitchen. You take turns playing assistant, passing Estelle between the two of you, and Astarion pops up to visit Dal.

The sun is just on its way down when there's another knock at the door. The first of the evening's guests, Astarion goes to answer it while you continue to stir the sauce Gale had declared a “flavor near divine”.

“Bat pup!” The unmistakable voice of Jaheira fill the house.

“Hello Mother,” Astarion replies warmly.

The Mother thing had actually begun as a joke. During the time trying to defeat the Absolute, one of Astarion’s petulant comments had prompted Jaheira to tell him if he was going to act like a child, she would put him over her knee like one. He’d responded with a sarcastic, “yes Mother”, and an eye roll.

“Better, Cub,” Jaheira had laughed, unfazed by his antics. When he insisted she not call him Cub she looked at him and smiled. “You’re right, Bat Pup is much more suitable.” They’d been that way since, the tone of it softening over time. Despite his age, all the time spent as Cazador’s slave and not really living had left Astarion closer mentally to who he was at his time of death, where Jaheira was very much the sum total of her life experience.

“And there’s my favorite little troublemaker.” You can hear Estelle’s excited trill for her “grandmother”. You’ll give them a few minutes to catch up.

Involuntarily, you smile as you keep a close watch on the sauce. “A wonderful sound, isn’t it?” You turn to Gale, giving him a puzzled look at his words. “The sound of happiness,” his eyes twinkle at the words. “If you had told me years ago that Astarion would be happy and content as a family man with a bookshop, I would have laughed. But here we are.”

“So would I, if we’re being honest.” A part of you remembers a clandestine confession from him, intentionally far away from Astarion’s hearing. Feelings you couldn’t return. “I’m glad you found someone too, Gale.”

“Indeed. Sometimes the things we think we want most aren’t the things we need. A lesson I’ve learned more than a few times. Although it didn’t take me nearly as long to learn that as much as it seemed Astarion needed you, you needed him too.” For a moment, the two of you are lost in memories of that harrowing time. “Ah, but let me save myself from distraction and monitor this roast. The others will be arriving soon. And you should go visit with Jaheira before she has to go back to the other children.” He gives you a warm smile and shoos you away.

“Helps with the pain of those little teeth coming in. I’ve got a few growing, I should be able to keep you stocked.”

Reaching the parlor, you find Estelle, happily chewing on some plant leaf in Jaheira’s lap and Astarion looking like he’s fighting the urge to snatch her back. The two of you had a serious talk about this holiday celebration and letting other people hold her for more than a few seconds. “There’s my Cub, the famous hero.”

“Hello Crow,” you’d never been able to think of her in the same maternal sense as Astarion, your own motherly relationship was so messy it bled into any others. Truthfully it had made you nervous as to what it would be like to be a mother, but the sound of Estelle’s first cries had soothed away any lingering doubts, you may not be perfect at it, but you would fight for her happiness every day. “She looks like she’s having a good time,” you gesture to Estelle and the leaf.

“That’s the best Solstice gift so far. It was a nightmare when the first two came through, and I know others will be starting soon. I see you’re managing to behave yourself, Love,” you kiss Astarion’s cheek to emphasize your approval as you sit next to him.

“As if she wouldn’t entangle me or some nonsense if I didn’t let her hold the grandchild. But then again, she is getting a bit old, maybe she’s slowed down.”

“Watch yourself Astarion or you will find out what I’m still capable of.”

The sun is sinking behind the horizon as the last of the shortest day of the year comes to a close. Dalyria descends to join you all, Midnight nestled in her arms, the tressym deigning to leave her attic kingdom for once. Astarion stokes the fireplace, leaving the room in a warm glow. Scratch immediately gives up on the vigil he’s been keeping at the kitchen door to lay in front of the fire.

Underneath the tree, brightly colored presents wait for unwrapping. There’s a knock on the door as the next of your friends arrive. Over the next hour, they all show up. Lae’zel and Shadowheart, newly engaged and figuring out just what sort of wedding a Gith and Half-Elf should have. Wyll and Karlch, lovers and heroes of the Sword Coast now that they’ve returned permanently from Avernus. Minsc and Boo, very much in Holiday Spirit. And finally Halsin, unexpectedly with a shy looking Drow man on his arm. “I hope one more isn’t imposing,” he says with a nervous yet excited smile. “This is Veltris.”

“We can make work,” truthfully you’re terribly intrigued by the man who has Halsin so clearly smitten and you lead them inside to join the others.

Someone has passed a wine bottle around the parlor now heating up with all the bodies gathered there. Astarion has a dosing Estelle back in his arms, who somehow is undisturbed by the chatter all around. “Try this,” Dalyria passes him a glass poured from a distinct blue bottle, “I’m preserving blood for long term storage.”

He makes a face but keeps drinking. “I suppose it is better than nothing.”

You settle back down next to him, taking a glass Wyll has passed you. “Always the gentleman,” you smile at him.

“Does he do more than kiss your hand behind close doors?” You’ll never get over Lae’zel’s sense of humor.

“Well, not always,” Karlach gives you a wink.

“Do tell?” Shadowheart teases.

“I’ll have you know…” Wyll tries to defend himself.

‘My daughter is right here!” Astarion huffs. “Gods, Gale had better finish dinner soon before you all get any more wine in you.”

“As it just so happens,” the Wizard appears in the doorway of your dining room.

“Finally,” Astarion huffs.

The others get up and start making their toward the wafting scent of a mouthwatering feast. “Minsc hopes you have made enough for Boo’s tremendous appetite!”

“I had better go before the young ones burn the house down,” Jaheira leans over to give Astarion a hug. “Behave yourself Bat Pup, and you too Cub,” she gives you a last wave and heads to the door.

You start to get up to follow the others, and Astarion grips your hand. “What is it?” For a moment, you worry something has gone wrong.

His head leans on your shoulder. “Nothing, it’s just…” The silence leaves your heart heavy with worry. “Everything is so perfect, more than I ever thought possible.” You can hear the tears in his voice, but don’t say anything, he doesn’t always like to draw attention to large emotions. “A holiday with you, and Estelle, and all of them, a family.”

“Our family, Starry Sky, and this is the first of many to come.”

The two of you take a quick moment for yourselves, basking in the glow of the fire, and the perfect Solstice evening with the ones you love.

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity

Tag list, DM to be added:

@mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx

@lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby

@satanicspinosaurus

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #my fanfic #my writing #BG3HolidayFluffle23 #x reader #chosen family

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ronearoundblindly · 14 days

Text

New Parent Panic (Ari's POV)

Ari Levinson x reader--best friends-to-lovers (now engaged w/a baby)

a Bedrock and Blueprints tale (see previous or series)

Summary: Little Rachel gets sick for the first time on a day that's not-quite convenient for her parents...

Warnings for eh...self-pity? dudeliness? sorta idiot Ari but he's relatable? very very fleeting mentions of sex. Mostly this is a web of hurt/comfort, much like its counterpart perspective. WC 2.5k 😣 This got out of hand... *You'll be surprised to learn that since I posted (technically this morning), I continue to not know much about babies, so yup, it's fiction.

He felt like crud yesterday, but he never said anything.

The cast only came off of his leg three weeks ago, and between getting back to work, taking physical therapy, and having a newborn at home, Ari is run fucking ragged.

He doesn't say anything though because you are just as worn down. You're in this together. He can manage.

Despite his best efforts, he got shit sleep last night. His thigh aches when the weather is colder, and the burning strain in his atrophied muscles won't let up since he diligently repeats his PT exercises whenever he can all day long.

He has no more sick leave--or at least, it seemed useless to take it when all he had was minor chills and a headache--so he leaves in the morning for the construction site where he is grounded. Until the strength in his legs is evened out again, he'll only work on the ground, but that's not resting. He actually moves around more than if he was climbing or balancing up on unfinished floors.

Ari focuses on not limping slightly when he's home around you, but he knows you can tell his recovery isn't done yet.

So yesterday he felt pretty rough, and whatever it was ruined his sleep, but he did all he promised he would do around the house before going to work and returned right after the shift ended.

He even strategically holds the house keys so they will make zero jingling noises, in case Rachel is asleep and not to be woken.

Ari can tell immediately that his girl is, of course, not asleep at all.

"Why's she crying?" he says, changing his bearings over from an intense day of helping the rather large project crew.

"Because she hates me."

He's pretty sure that's not true so walks over, not bothering to take off his shoes, saves time if he swings by the bedroom. He can do a lot more if he removes his stiff work layers and washes some grime off. He wouldn't say no to beer either...

If he's going to do a lap around the house, he may as well grab whatever helps you.

He asks if Rachel needs medicine, but it's not been enough time for another dose.

"Hungry?" He means both the baby and you, but before he can specify, you practically bite his head off.

No, I don't think you've starved our fucking child for your amusement, but I think you might be hangry...

"Calm down," Ari tries to soothe instead. "I'm just trying to help."

It clearly doesn't come out as soothing.

"Well then fucking help me," you cry, and he can tell now that it is crying.

As soon as he's dressed down a little, he'll do anything and everything you want, but either way, he'll have to take a minute to be ready, now or later. Now just seems easier because then you can pass Rachel off to him for good.

He simply has to use the bathroom.

Turns out so do you, and you've needed to for a long time.

Ari offers to let you go first. He figures he can set her in the basinet for the whopping minute it will take him to change clothes.

You say no. You already have her.

"Fine," he sighs, beelining for the bedroom, ready to strip and flip his body like an actor offstage. "I'll be right back."

"Take. Your. Time."

Ari turns around, unamused, biting his tongue and taking a breath before, as calmly as he can possibly manage, he says, "Kid, just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

His aching body, too-cold in some spots, too-warm in others, makes him twitchy. He can't stand still and he has to take the weight off his bad leg.

You don't answer. You just walk off to the kitchen

"I swear, woman..."

Ari does everything too fast.

He knocks down a few hangers in the closet grabbing a sweatshirt from the shelf. Toiletries do a half pike in the dip of the sink when he replaces the bottle of mouthwash. He uses the last of the toilet paper rolls but is a little scared to stay any longer before relieving you.

He's about to warn you to replace it, but you're on the phone, relaying Rach's fever and very few specific symptoms beyond that, other than constant crying.

He won't interrupt you in the middle of a conversation with your back turned to him, so he decides this is his chance to get a beer out and open, within arms reach once you're done and he can take over.

The call ends.

Rachel is shrieking now, and it's difficult to hear over the wailing.

He figures you have to relay a rundown of what she's eaten and when she can have meds again, so he won't yell over the din much and asks what he needs to do.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

He barely gets the baby balanced in his arms when there's a short break in the flailing yell.

You run out. He assumes you're making a break for the bathroom, but no, you go out--like out-out--of the house. He can't move fast enough to follow, and Rachel resumes crying within seconds of the front door shutting.

Ari hasn't locked the car yet (the beep could wake a precariously sleeping kiddo so he waits to see if it's safe), so he makes it to the living room window in time to see the van shift slightly with your weight inside.

He can't see you though. You aren't in the front seats.

"Well, lil' general," he mutters to a baby that not only cannot understand him but also cannot hear him over the noise she's making, "we have our orders."

He won't take the screaming child outside; that's rude to the nice neighbors. He gathered enough info from your phone call to know Rach probably needs fed again, and by the time that's done, it'll be meds--for him and the baby. He waits to take anything for his leg until close to bed, so it's effective, maybe allowing him a few decent hours a night.

He wets a washcloth and grabs a bottle.

Ari bounces. He wiggles. He shimmies. He groans when a momentary stab of pain races up his thigh. He is so fucking sick of being in pain. He hated being trapped in bed. He hated being trapped in a cast. He hates not being at 100%. He loathes using the pain as an excuse for not doing his part at home.

So he has mentioned it as little as humanly possible.

Finally, he arranges himself on the couch with that donut pillow thing to cradle Rachel's head while she eats, and Ari slaps the cool cloth on his own forehead, leaning his neck back at an awkward angle. He doesn't really care; this is about the best he's felt all day.

He isn't sure whether he expected you to come in by now or not. He can't blame you for wanting space, just any amount of it at all really, but it's cold outside. The car won't stay comfortable for long.

Rachel has, eh, sorta stopped crying by the time the bottle is empty. She kicks her chubby legs out and stares at Ari with huge eyes, snorting with each exhale. He does the suction thingy to clear her nose, just like you taught him, and then it's Daddy-Daughter drug time.

Diaper change is next, and then because Ari happened to put on his favorite navy blue sweatshirt, he pulls out Rachel's navy blue onesie. Sue him. It's cute to match his kid.

Her big eyes get heavier and heavier, so Ari takes his chance to go check on you before Rach is even fully asleep.

He slips his shoes back on without tying them.

He's happy the first words out of your mouth once he opens the car door aren't an apology. Goodness knows when he needs a minute, he needs a minute. There's nothing wrong with that.

Ari wishes it weren't his fault though.

"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.

He rubs across your back, your body curling in on itself even more. Those hard plastic, all-weather mats must be murder on your bare feet and shins.

"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."

He plans the best way to lift you with his weakened stance, adjusting you like a sad rag doll before hauling you into the house.

Honestly, he's looked forward to holding you all day. He thought maybe you'd share a hug when he got home or cuddle on the couch for a bit, but none of that happened obviously.

Instead, he sinks down in the front hall, keeping you on his lap while he kicks his boots over to the mat.

He kisses your temple.

Your forehead is sweaty but chilled from outside. He has no clue if you're sick, too, but if it's whatever he had yesterday, he knows it won't last very long.

One thing he knows for sure: he had no way of knowing this was how your day went.

"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. The longer his skin is pressed to yours, the more he's convinced. "You know, you're warm, too."

You ignore yourself again, asking if he took Rachel's temperature.

He cradles you while explaining what he did, squeezing you tighter once there's nothing left but to focus on you, which you do in the absolutely worst way.

"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.

"What?" He smacks his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"

Not fucking today, kid. Don't do this.

"Bullshit," he seethes, his gut knotting at the thought of you wallowing in those thoughts, alone in the empty, cold car. "Don't you ever say that again."

Your evading his attempts to wrangle you into facing him.

"I shouldn't have--"

"Stop," he bites out.

"--you were--"

"Stop it."

"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!"

That's not fair and you know it. His heart is breaking open with yours.

"Me," you continue, choked by misplaced guilt. "I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done--"

He fucking hates the idea of you comparing yourself to Joanna.

"--and I thought I could just...and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"

You're full-on blubbering now, and he won't say it, but you're adorably pathetic like this. His breaking heart swells a little.

"No, kid," he adds. "She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."

"It's 'cause you're comfy and you smell good--"

Well, I do use my bathroom time wisely...

"--and she loves you."

You say that like it's a bad thing?? Ari snorts out a laugh at your lip quiver.

"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, stroking his hands over your restless form. "I love you. So much. So, so much."

Ari searches for your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it until he can spin the band gently on your finger. He knows you deserve a wedding, sooner rather than later, but he doesn't want to be in pain standing up with you in front of friends and family. He doesn't want to limp during your first dance. He certainly doesn't want to need painkillers to take you to bed that night (or any night really).

That's his guilt.

Yes, you were very pregnant when he fell and broke his leg. Yes, there would have been almost no way to have sex with his cast on, or properly maneuver you for any other positions and activities. Yes, you needed plenty of time to heal after giving birth. But come on!

If he had control of his body, or his muscle mass back, or less self-consciousness and disappointment, he would love nothing more than to be all over you--last night, this morning, when he walked in the door, in the kitchen, out in the car, or right here on the fucking floor.

Ari knows those are selfish thoughts. You need his comfort and words more than you need to feel like an object. Rachel--or, he guesses, a baby in general--makes everyone feel like they're just playing a roll, like they're there for one purpose only.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari rumbles near your ear. "You're my favorite."

You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat. You fit him so perfectly.

"Almost not fair, really. You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"

You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile. He deserved that pinch. He earned that smile.

"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" the assault on his ribs has him jumping around the floor "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.

"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."

He grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"

You only nod, so he gently knocks his forehead to yours.

"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."

You're settled in bed, watered, fed, and cleaned, but Ari notices Rachel starting to fuss again.

When he sweeps the thermometer over her head and ear, the reading says her temp has actually gone down slightly. He'll take that win.

He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand up.

"High five?"

Those huge eyes just blink at him.

"No? It's fine. We'll work on that."

He lefts her out of the basinet and tries one more bottle, turning on the TV but getting lost watching his daughter's tiniest movements instead. While he's burping her, he runs through his PT routine, twice, since his mobility gets a little better once his meds kick in.

Lil' General is out cold almost instantly over his shoulder.

Ari grabs another wet cloth for your forehead before putting everyone to sleep.

He bounces his way closer to you in the bed. He wiggles and shimmies until you're resting against his chest. He smiles when he realizes you don't feel overly warm anymore, pulling the blanket higher, letting the static of Rach's white-noise machine take him under.

He felt like crud yesterday. Today, he helped his ladies feel better and goes to bed happy, holding you.

[Main Masterlist; Bedrock and Blueprints Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber

#ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #bedrock and blueprints #ari levinson x you #ari levinson angst #ari levinson fluff #hurt/comfort #best friend!reader #established relationship #ari levinson au

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Note

Hi! Would you write Astarion x Rogue!Tav ? I always liked the idea of two rogues together, getting up to a bunch of mischief.

Inspired by my friend @psychicdreamlandpizza whose Tav is Tiefling Rogue

Thanks @rachelle-on-the-run @leomonae @glassphinixfor the ideas! NSWF version is coming later!

Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are a street urchin, abandoned as a child.

You can only rely on yourself and no one else.

However, such a life didn't make you bitter.

You are a sarcastic rogue with a heart of gold.

You know lockpicking, deception, and many illegal stuff.

Of course, you knew stories of vampires using, the streets as their hunting spot.

You met them twice.

A tiefling woman. who tried to offer you a profitable job.

And an elf. who was selling his body.

You knew who they were and escaped.

Gods, why isn't there a vampire hunter when you need one?

You recognize the said elf at the shipwreck.

Before he manages to jump on you, you knock him down and put a dagger to his throat.

"Just tell me the reason why I shouldn't tell everyone you are a vampire?"

Now it's his dagger against your throat.

"Tell me the reason why I shouldn't tell everyone you are a thief and a criminal?"

Fair enough. It's not like you manage to keep secrets from the party, but you have an arrangement for a while.

You have a lot in common.

Basically, two feral cats, who try to gauge each other's eyes.

You have lockpicking races trying to open a door or a chest.

"I saw it first!", "I got to it first!", "I've been picking locks since before you were born, you little wretch!", "Exactly! Move, old man!"

Sometimes, failing perception checks and having to face a mimic.

You have charisma 20 and can make people love you without putting too much effort.

You can overdrink anyone and anything, but Astarion has to carry you away because you never know when to stop.

You always can get better deals and contracts, but your desire to help people (even for money) often goes sideways.

And it's Astarion's turn to get you out of trouble.

The intimacy of your partner helping you disarm a trap, knowing that a misstep could kill you both but also knowing that you've nothing to worry about because both of you trust the other's skills and steadiness.

And stitching wounds if one of you fucks up.

Sometimes it's you both.

Post-game, you stay together in Baldur's Gate, working as mercenaries and dreaming of earning a fortune.

You have a thing about luxury too, though, you've never had a chance to experience it.

You are two stray cats, finally having home.

The idea of sleeping comfortably in your bed feels weird.

Wearing clothes which are beautiful but not practical, too.

And you know when Astarion brings you something he hasn't bought it.

And you are more than fine with it.

You steal things for him, too.

Mostly, pieces of clothing. Sometimes jewelry. Often - books.

Date nights? How about breaking into someone's mansion whose owner has hoarded pieces of art and hidden them from people?

Goine through private galleries with Astarion giving you a lecture about art?

Or maybe swimming in someone's private pool?

And having sex in the rich people's luxury beds?

There are a lot of ways to have fun if you are two rogues!

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 1 month

Text

03/12/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; More BTS/Photos; Samba Schutte Cameo; Taika; Fan Spotlight; London Billboards/Trucks; Uproar; LubeAsACrew; Watch Party Reminders; Continued Efforts; Trends; Love Notes; DailyDarby/Tonight's Taika

Hey all! Thank you so much for your feedback on the recaps! Right now I'm planning on sticking too them, but may cut them down depending on the day. Right now we seem to be pretty solid on daily news so I'll keep them the way they are for now. I appreciate you all sharing your thoughts with me <3

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

== More BTS / Photos ==

Well as many of you know, the things that broke the internet were the latest photos that were found by @jodegg on LK Creatives Website

Nicola Dove also put up some more photos recently! Thank you to @kiwistede for putting them all in one place in this post.

= Samba Schutte =

Thank you so much to @gheyandwoke on Twitter for getting a cameo from Samba! It's absolutely beautiful and totally worth a listen.

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika's out here advertising for hot tubs, and seems to be enjoying himself with Rita! Src: Taika's Instagram

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Tonight's cast card is Rachel House! Absolutely love Rachel in so many of her roles! Thank you @melvisik for highlighting her works!

== Ari Azure's Act of Grace ==

Our lovely crew-mate @ariazureyt wrote a song about OFMD being cancelled, and commissioned @enabuns to draw, and @ferventrabbit on vocals! The full song will be released on their youtube this Friday! To follow along for updates, visit their Link.tree

== London Billboard ==

A few more photos from the SaveOFMDCrew meetup at the London Billboard in Leicaster Square! Wanna see them all? Visit the @saveofmdcrewmates website!

Our crew-mate @heather.in.wonderland on Instagram brought Little Ed with her to visit the billboard!

== Trucks Ads Outside Amazon! ==

== Save OFMD Meet Up In London Video! ==

See the whole post on tumblr!

youtube

Website: https://www.help.saveofmd.com/ Petition: change.org/p/save-our-flag-means-death Socials: linktr.ee/saveofmdcrew

Vocals: twitter.com/ferventrabbit

Video: twitter.com/kristybean18

Lyrics: Set your eyes upon the screen A wondrous sight to see This is "La Vue en rose" Londoners from far and near Will likely shed a tear To see "La Vue en rose" The petition climbs so high No streamer can deny The power of our show We’ll spread the word about our pirates dear Until the fandom at last perseveres Look upon the lovely sight To keep our hope alight "La Vue en rose"

== Uproar Coming To America! ==

Get your tickets at fandango!

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Lube As A Crew ==

Our dear friends over at @astroglideofficial are hosting one last Lube As A Crew, with all of Season 2 in one go! Starts Friday March 15th 12 pm Noon PST ( 4pm EST, 8 pm GMT)

== Wrecked ==

There are sources being passed around. If access is an issue, DM @iamadequate1 on Twitter or Tumblr

Season 2 watch from March 11th to March 15th.

Season 3 watch from March 18th to March 22nd.

Times will be 10pm GMT / 5pm EST / 4pm CST / 2pm PST. Watch two episodes per day. Episodes are 21-22 minutes each. Use the following Saturday for the tags/watch if interested but not able to make this time.

Hashtags:

#WreckedPirates

#SaveOFMD

#RhysDarbyFaction

== OurFlagRTL ==

Twitter-Watch-Along von Our Flag Means Death:

Streamt Staffel 2 ab dem 15. März.

Samstag, 9.3. 17:00 Folgen 1 bis 3,

Dienstag, 12.3. 20:00 Folgen 4 & 5,

Mittwoch, 13.3. 20:00 Folgen 6 & 7,

Donnerstag 14.3. 20:00 Folgen 8 & 9,

Freitag, 15.3. 17:30 Folge 10

Und anschließend bingen wir zusammen Staffel 2!

Schaut und tweetet mit!

Hashtag:

OurFlagRTL

== Continued Efforts ==

So even though Chaos Dad, David Jenkins told us there was no more home, several people are still out there fighting the good fight. There's been a few different routes being taken.

1. Sell The Show, Let Us Go

Our crew-mate @patchworkpiratebear has been putting out lots of awesome media regarding this, and several people on twitter have been using #SellTheShowLetUsGo

2. There's been continued and more targeted Polite Menacing against Max, WB, and David Zaslav.

Lots of folks have been either responding to Max's Twitter / IG Post, and others have been focusing specifically on Zaslav.

Specific hashtags being used were #FireDavidZaslav and #DontStreamOnMax Thank you to @iamadequate1 for capturing all these great trends and metrics:

== Articles ==

https://www.themarysue.com/our-flag-means-death-fans-put-up-billboard-in-londons-leicester-square/

SchadenFreude Articles

https://awardsradar.com/2024/03/11/you-had-one-job-david/

https://www.cnbc.com/2024/02/23/warner-bros-discovery-hypes-free-cash-flow-investors-dont-buy-it.html

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I know that the new photos were both a welcome gift and also a heavy reminder of where OFMD is and what we've lost. For some it's helping them rally, and for others it's really pulling them down deeper into the gravy basket.

Wherever you are, just know it's gonna be okay. Whether we get an s3 or not, and if we do 10 years from now or next week, it's going to be alright. As so many others have said, including our lovely Con O'Neill, they can't take what we have away from us.

I continue to hear from the cast & crew in all their posts that we are some of the much amazing, kind, and engaging folks they've ever met, and you really should be proud of yourself for that. Our cast & crew are wonderful, but the fans are too.

On a slight side note, please if you can, check on your crew-mates today. The initial shock is starting to fade, but a lot of folks are still struggling, or coming back to struggling after a period of being okay. We're all riding the waves right now lovelies, and it'll take some work but we'll get through the storm, but it'll be easier together.

Our friend @thelatestkate has another lovely note for us.. and I second it. We are all weathering the storm right now, but you belong here, and we love that you're here with us, through tears or laughter, or unhinged fun. Be kind to yourselves lovelies, we are small but we are many, and we all care about you, I wish Sweet Dreams / Happy Days for you <3 Love you Crew.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

I've run out of images allowed on one post so we're just gonna do a combo one tonight, and since this scene is the theme of the day, we'll go with the goofiest one of all. Gif courtesy of @stedesbonnets / @edsrosetattoo (The gifs are being weird AF tonight, its showing one name but apparently it's not right? Apologies if I'm not crediting the right folks!)

#daily ofmd recaps #daily ofmd recap #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag bbc #edward teach #rhys darby #save ofmd #gentlebeard #renew as a crew #blackbonnet #stede bonnet #taika waititi #our flag means death #adopt our crew #Youtube

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haleyboook · 1 year

Text

Sexiest man alive’s photographer wife pt.l

Chris Evans is to be named People’s 2022 sexiest man alive, what he and his wife don’t know is that his photographer for the magazine is his very own wife. Who better to give the smoldering sexy look to than his wife?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Yes I am still scrambling around London trying to make it back in time for Miles birthday party. The models I’m dealing with here believe I’m a complete ninny. If only they knew the real stars I’ve photographed. Tell me why I agreed to this shoot again?”

He smiles on the other end of the video chat saying “It was something new. You wanted to broaden your portfolio.”

I grumble saying “Biggest mistake ever. Never let me make another like this okay?”

He chuckles saying “I think you’ve spent too much time in Europe, you’re beginning to speak like them. Ninny? What does that even mean?”

I stifle a laugh saying “Gah.. I’m so sorry. I should be home. With you and Dodger. Not here.”

“Hey, we understand. You’re killing it there and we’re couch potatoes while you’re gone. After shooting I’m exhausted.”

I nod saying “How’s the shooting for the red one going?”

“Good. I love Dwayne. I know I said I didn’t know if he’d be weird but he’s so funny and so nice. You’d love him. You need to meet him soon.”

“I’ll be home soon. And I won’t leave again, for as long as humanly possible.”

He nods saying “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

I shake my head saying “You look tired. I am screwing up your sleep routine calling you this late. I hate this stupid time difference.”

He shakes his head saying “I can’t and will not go to sleep until we have our nightly calls. You know that.”

I frown and say “Sometimes I hate my job.”

“But, you love it. You know that.”

I shrug as I feel tears produce, “it’s just so difficult being away from you for so long. I don’t know anyone here. My assistants are French and talk terribly about me to each other. And the models think I’m a servant to them. I miss America. I miss you. I miss home.”

His eyes widen and he says “It’ll be done in no time. We’ll be here, waiting. Just do what you’ve gotta do. I can send Scott over if you’d like. He begs to go to Europe all the time.”

I smile as I wipe my tears saying “If he’s my best bet, yeah. But he’s not my first choice in Evans’ visiting me.”

He nods saying “I know how much you love my mom but I think she’s pretty busy in Boston, even though…”

I laugh through the tears at his efforts to make me feel better, my assistant quickly calls for me as I look to the laptop

“Miss Klava is requesting you to do… your job. No offense.”

I sigh as I look to her saying “Klava was supposed to be on set of the shoot an hour ago. She doesn’t run the show here. Get her in makeup and make her look like she cares to be here. I’ll be there soon enough.”

Quickly she leaves as I groan and Chris mellows as I shake my head saying “They can never not interrupt our alone time, can they?”

He shrugs saying “Big shoot day. I know you need to get out there now.”

I look down to my watch saying “No. No, tell me more about what’s going on with you.”

“I got a call from People magazine actually..”

Klava pushes her way into my room, shouting in a language I don’t understand, pointing towards my laptop and huffing and puffing.

Making a whole tantrum in front of me

I shake my head saying “You should be in hair and makeup! You’re so lucky I don’t find literally any other model to replace you!”

She shakes her head saying “I told you I model best. But you waste time with this! This ridiculous device.”

I look to my laptop screen, seeing Chris’ flushed expression. I glare at Klava saying “You can’t barge into my private office-”

My assistant says “She refuses to go into makeup, she claims she looks perfect as is.”

I sigh saying “Get Rachel, send Klava to Wes while I figure out how yo handle this.”

I look to my laptop saying “I’m sorry, Chris. I will call you later. Alright?”

He nods and says “I love you. Good luck with Klava.”

I smile to him quickly, saying “I love you too. Good luck with shooting.”

“You too.”

The call ends and I spend the rest of the day scrambling around, attempting to position and direct models that are nearly more than a foot taller me in heels to do as I request

I didn’t get around to calling Chris again, but I had enough time to check my email before I ultimately let my head hit my pillow and pass out

A rep from people magazine have reached out, asking for a call to speak about a job offer

I set plans and fall asleep with my phone unplugged and with a low battery

Chris messages me as I sleep, giving me updates throughout his day

Only going through to my dead phone

The sun shines in my face and I abruptly sit up, scrambling to read the time “please don’t be late..”

I look to the clock on the microwave, groaning as I rush out of the room.

Another painful day of dealing with models begins as I plug my phone in, missing my daily call with Chris

Missing the email telling me I would receive a call from People magazine’s Zoe.

Rachel pushes my ringing phone to my ear as it answers “Honey, I know I missed our usual call but-”

“Oh? Sorry, do I have the wrong number?”

I set my camera down, grabbing my phone confused saying “Sorry.. thought you were my husband. My assistant didn’t tell me it was a business call. Who is this?”

“Zoe from People.”

“Oh! Hi, sorry. I’ve been swamped here in London. What can I help you with?”

She cheerily says “As you probably know, People announces the sexiest man alive yearly with a large photo shoot and article. And we need a photographer for this years 2022 sexiest man alive. I’ve been following your work for awhile and wow… you’re work is stunning. My employers and I would like to offer you the job.”

My eyes widen and I say “Who would I be working with? Who won?”

Zoe pauses and says “2022’s sexiest man alive..”

I smile and say “Ah.. so confidential for now. When will the photo shoot take place?”

“Soon, as soon as you have an opening actually.”

Debating taking on more work I say “Who’s in the running for the job besides me?”

Zoe pauses saying “We were hoping it’d be you. We have a few people we’ve used in the past but my boss really enjoyed your photos from the Met gala earlier this year. You took some phenomenal photos.”

I pause and say “I don’t finish this job for another few weeks and I- I need to speak to my husband first before I accept another job.”

“We’d be willing to be flexible with times. And we know the model would be too.”

Looking to the models in front of me I say “Can we shoot in Boston?”

Zoe happily says “Yes, wherever you choose to photograph!”

I nod saying “Alright, I’m in. I just need to reassure my husband. I can just do the editing from this job from home. I’m almost wrapped up here. I will send you some dates that work for me, you pick one and let’s set some solid plans okay?”

“Perfect, I’ll expect your email. Thank you!”

I wrap up the call, dropping my phone and saying “Alright, this is the last day of shooting and none of you will have to hear my harping voice again. Just cooperate with me.”

Sending my unedited shots to my higher ups at the magazine I request finishing the final product in the states

With some convincing it’s approved and I call Chris on my taxi ride to dinner

“Didn’t think you’d get some time away to call me.”

I huff a breath in response saying “Yeah. I didn’t either. From the looks of your texts it sounds like you’re enjoying filming on red one.”

“I’m actually about to go meet someone for breakfast. Would you mind if you just texted me what’s up?”

I pause and mask my voice saying “Yeah of course! I’ll talk to you later.”

I hear a couple different voices in the background, one being Scott shouting “tell her I’m booking my flight immediately!”

I smile and Chris ends the call with a hushed goodbye. I sigh and the taxi driver says “Where to?”

“The airport please.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

next>>

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lunarw0rks · 9 months

Note

My name is also technically Rachel but I was curious can I pretty please get a Price nsfw alphabet 😘😘

NSFW Alphabet | John Price

A/N: thx for the request! my first time writing for price, so I hope it's not OOC. It's all my opinion anyway, so take it with a grain of salt.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), smut, GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ PRICE MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Literal king at aftercare. You wouldn’t be allowed to move a muscle afterwards, you’re staying there until he tends/cleans you. Prob. says something like “not a chance, love. Stay right here.” Getting some water, using a towel to clean up the mess, stripping the sheets, helping his partner redress, etc.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of himself; his mustache, thinks it looks sexy. A second would be his broad shoulders—toned and perfect for some manhandling (wink wonk)

On a partner: definitely a boobs/chest man, whether his partner is masc/fem, he always catches his eyes glued there. How it’s perfectly unique to his partners’ body type, definitely a favorite of his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I don’t think he cares too much where he does it, but as referenced in “K”, if he can finish inside that’s his favorite. Other than that, he would prefer the face or stomach, how it's slightly degrading… But he finds it very hot.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

(Debated on putting this in “Kinks”, but I think it’s more of a dirty secret.)

It’s not something he does often, but thoroughly enjoys when he does.

Manhandling—using his strength and stamina as a way to throw his partner around, especially if there is a size difference, and even if there isn’t. His grip is like iron, so good luck trying to fight it. Still somehow being gentle and caring with words, all while he has a tight grip on their jaw or neck, forcing them into whatever position he pleases (w/ prior consent, obviously)

A small hint of this, something his S/O would experience often; lifting his partner up with ease. On his desk, against the wall, or even just holding them up as he fucks them.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I feel like he’s quite experienced, especially at understanding his partner's needs. Each of his sexual partners have been different in their own way, some with different desires as well as just maturing—POINT IS, he’s very good at reading the situation and making it enjoyable for both people.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy, but prefers if his partner is bent over something and he’s still standing. It allows him to use his whole body, as well as cage them in with his fame, pressing his stomach to their back, kissing along the side of their neck and shoulders—also while whispering dirty talk/and a fair amount of praise the whole time.

Sixty-nine, because he can lay back, while he and his partner both get something out of it. It’s the perfect position for him, because it's a combo of his two favorite things—eating out his S/O, all while getting head.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Quite serious, but not because he’s being uptight—he’s just focused on pleasuring his partner and himself. Though, if things were more intimate and soft, I can see him cracking a few jokes every now and then. If he’s making his partner moan, all while laughing at one of his jokes? He’ll love it, because he knows he’s doing something right.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

On a partner? Literally couldn’t care less, most likely would find the bush extremely attractive—shows his S/O in their natural state. If they preferred to wax or shave themselves, he would take notice of the effort and love it just as much. (Definitely would pay for any pampering/spa days for his S/O)

On himself? He’s well groomed, but not shaved or waxed down there. He maintains it regularly (most likely just trimming), probably on the same days he shaves.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

VERY INTIMATE; intertwining fingers, peppering kisses along his favorite parts of them, giving feedback and praising during. Sure, if his partner wanted the experience rougher, or if it's a quickie, he would keep things more simple and follow through with the mood.

But, he seems like he wants sex to be meaningful and tender. Afterall, he’s doing the deed with someone he can’t guarantee coming home to every day. I would imagine he’s especially lovey when there’s been time apart, like deployment, or both are too tired and held off for awhile, etc.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

For him, it’s 50/50.

Sometimes, he barely finds the need or time to masturbate—he’s often too busy and stressed for it. Besides, he wants to save himself for his partner and release that tension with them.

Then, on the other hand, he finds himself doing it daily. Seems like the type to do it strictly in bed though, probably in the morning before he gets ready.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Rank kink: I feel like this one is a given. But this seems like the type of kink he doesn’t know he likes, until his partner initiates. All day, he’s forced to be stern and serious. So, if one day, his partner called “Sir” or “Captain” during sex, he would absolutely love it—using his rank to his advantage on his S/O.

Breeding kink: LISTEN. He would never force his partner, always would ask before finishing, usually finishing on the stomach or back. But if they allowed him to finish inside, or not use protection—it’s game on, he finds it so arousing—watching it drip out and down their thighs afterwards. Not to mention, with his salary, children wouldn’t be out of the question for him, so take that with a grain of salt.

Praise kink: He feeds on praise—needing to make his partner as comfortable as possible. Loves feedback from his partner almost as much as he loves giving it. He’s constantly vocalizing things, how well they’re doing, some dirty talk occasionally.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Price seems like he’d be quite old fashioned—bed, couch, sometimes the kitchen. And on the off chance his S/O sees him at work, probably his office quite often, since he practically lives there.

Bed: allows things to be more intimate and comfortable, which he’s a sucker for. Being in the comfort of his home, feeling secure with one another in the bed, allowing things to feel more personal and meaningful.

Couch: if the act is more laidback, such as a casual quickie, or relieving him after a long day. Watching a movie/show while lazily riding him, or he’s under the blanket using his hands, while he’s acting as if nothing is happening.

Kitchen: very personal and homey setting, especially if his S/O is making a meal and he approaches from behind, wrapping his arms around them, giving husky, subtle hints in their ear. BONUS; if his S/O comes up behind him when he’s cooking, holding his waist—he’s kneeling before them in seconds.

Office: using all of the advantages that come with a private office and large desk. Enjoys bending his S/O over the desk, or oral while they’re sitting on it. DEF THE TYPE TO shove all his papers off to clear it, all while not breaking the kiss. Also feeds into his rank kink, let’s be honest here ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

If his partner is vocal during, showing him how well he’s doing—especially, if they use their words to tell him—he’ll literally melt.

His partner gets dressed up for him (makeup/hair/clothes)? He’ll secretly want to ruin it by fucking them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don’t think he’d enjoy full non-con, maybe some elements of it, but even thinking of doing that to his partner… He wouldn’t like it. You want him to be slightly commanding and rough? He’s game. But, for him to enjoy himself, he has to know his partner is safe.

Possibly odd headcanon? But I don’t picture him being into spitting, in terms of his partner. Just don’t see him doing it to be degrading, or at all really. He comes well prepared if he knows he’s going to have sex, so spit as lube wouldn’t be necessary either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving: He’s experienced sexually, so I get the feel that he would be very strategic with it. Not overly rough or quick, but the perfect equilibrium. Moderate, deliberate tongue movements until his partner finished—and then another round of it, just for good measure (￢‿￢ )

Receiving: He tries to act like it’s not something he needs, and he wouldn’t force his partner. However, he seems like the type to thoroughly enjoy getting head. One hand on the back of his S/O’s head, protecting it, while the other is behind his head in a relaxed fashion. Receiving oral is probably one of the few things he’s actually moaning during.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a mix of slow and fast.

Rough vs. sensual? That would depend on the mood of the night, and what his partner wants. Across the board, it would be deliberate, but quick thrusts. Then, after a few, he would hold himself there for a few seconds, before continuing that motion.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As much as he wants to take his time, quickies would be common, considering his high rank. As referenced in “L”, his office would be a hotspot.

Personal headcanon for this letter? He enjoys lazy sex—slow, laidback quickies when he’s too tired, but doesn’t want to leave his partner hot and bothered.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He would experiment, but only if his partner was really adamant about it. He’s more old-fashioned, stuck in his ways if you will—so you’d probably have to straight up tell him what you want for him to understand.

Risks? Weirdly enough, I think he would. At work, he’s high up enough in the ranks, that people know not to disturb him in his office unless it's urgent. Yet, he’d still enjoy the thrill of it. If it’s in the context of public sex, I think he would be hesitant.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He wouldn’t do multiple “rounds” per se, but during the act, he would make it last a while. He would make sure there wasn’t a need for another round, because his partner would be satisfied by the end of it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any toys, but has other things (lube/protection/etc.)

If his partner wanted to use them, he would at the very least attempt it. For example, if he wanted things more vanilla, he would be willing to find a compromise—a toy you can both agree upon. He prefers things with just his body and theirs, probably an ego boost to make them finish like that, too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

With how patient he is, I think he could keep up the teasing for quite awhile—if he and his S/O had the time to do so, or if that’s something they enjoy.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He would probably be quite vocal, but more so with his words than moans. Often it’s small grunts and deep, heavy breathing throughout.

Constant reassurance and praise to his partner, telling them how good they’re doing, using their favorite pet names, etc…

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You want something? What’s he getting for it?

(W/ prior consent) Plays up the role of buying his partner things, spoiling them, and then getting something sexual in return. Besides, if he can’t be with you 24/7, expect some money wired to you—then a cocky message, telling you to buy something sexy for him.

… if he buys a clothing piece for you, he buys two so he can rip one of them off ;)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He gives the vibes of someone with a sleeper build. Yes, he’s buff and burly, but doesn’t look like someone with that amount of strength. A dad-bod in the making, all while he has chest hair leading to his happy trail.

No abs, but he’s toned on his shoulders and biceps the most.

As for… his parts: he’s above average, but not so much it's ridiculous. He gives the vibes of a grower, about 4 inches when soft, but 6.5 when hard. And slightly thick, about 2.5 inches thick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When he’s away for several months—very high. Honestly is surprisingly needy, but hides it well by keeping a poker face. He’s not the type to straight up ask, he would hint with his actions; hands roaming a little longer than usual, kissing along his partner’s jaw and neck, suddenly being really lovey before bedtime, etc.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He would fall asleep so fast after aftercare and all that. If he was truly exhausted, there might not be a lot of it, which is rare for him. But can you really blame him? He’s so stressed and busy at work all the time. Would definitely apologize if he rushed to sleep after, though.

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #call of duty #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #john price #captain price

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