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otterlyfoolish · 4 months

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Toriko Roommate HCs

A bunch of Headcanons of on being roommates with the Toriko characters. Semi-shitpost purely because I'm doing this to get a laugh out of it. Pretty platonic stuff. Not edited, I hate editing!

Word count: 2.5k

(Heavenly Kings & Komatsu)

Toriko

I could see him living with someone else if he wasn't able to live in his candy house anymore. It'll probably because they refused to keep making them.

Eats the fridge out. He also eats the ice in the freezer. Nothing is left.

Gone as soon as you step away from the vicinity of the kitchen area.

Don't worry about it too much, he'll leave enough for one serving. Just one. It's for you so you have something to eat for the next meal.

Your shopping trip for one now has to turn into shopping trip for two. If you have a list of stuff to buy hung up on the fridge somewhere, he'll start writing on it. The list of items in his handwriting is more than double of whatever you buy to eat.

He makes up for it though. Causally slams down a massive stack of cash to cover for the cost of it and then walks out to go get lunch with Komatsu or something.

Invites you out to eat sometimes. Expensive restaurants are just as likely as chance as the local noodle joint.

You have a pet? No. You had a pet.

Your pet would naturally gravitate towards towards him

He would probably take it on a walk even if it was a pet fish or bug.

The worse part is that he doesn't even feed it, they just like him more than you. An natural animal's person.

You'll find them napping together.

He's a shedder. Blue hair everywhere, he has so much hair it blocks up the vacuum cleaner.

His clothes are also spread about the place, but when he notices them, he'll chuck them in the washing machine.

He probably isn't home too much. But you know when he is because you can find a pair of muddy footprints leading up to your front door.

When he is home, he might bring some people over - he's a social guy when he isn't out hunting or eating

Sometimes might bring over Komatsu. You'll find the two of them sitting on the couch watching some cooking show. These are the best days because he usually stays until dinner and makes all three of you food to eat.

His brothers might come over. Coco is a delight to have. Sunny is snippy, but you can tell he cares somewhat. Zebra… You're afraid that he won't stop at emptying your fridge, and will start chomping down on the metal container.

You could probably grow used to being his roommate, there's nothing too bad, just a collection of a lot of little things.

Coco

I don't even know how you convinced him to be roommates with you - I cannot imagine a scenario where he would do this.

But it barely even matters since you won't see him. Like at all. You'll have to live with him for a couple years before he even thinks about starting to warm up to you.

Almost always in his room. He's deathly silent too - you won't hear a single thing from him ever. The absolute most you'll hear is him talking to some sort of bird outside his window(?) You still aren't really sure who he's talking to, but you occasionally hear some bird sounds.

On the rare occasion you see him outside, he's reading a thick book about something you'll need a master's degree to fully understand. He'll simply greet you and return to reading. Don't stare too long or he'll retreat back to his room.

You have no idea how often he's at home, purely because you have no idea if he's even home or not from how much noise he makes. The only way you could really tell is seeing if his shoes are gone or not. It's unsettling, borderline frightening.

Extremely respectful of the shared space - no dishes in sink, the place is well-maintained, there's barely any indication that you live with another person. The only thing that's his is the massive bookcase that takes up a fair chunk of the room.

If he likes you, he'll let you read some of the books on the shelf. Just under no circumstances do you dog-ear the pages. Your privilege will be revoked instantly. The bookshelf will be replaced with one that requires a lock, or even worse, moves to his room and you will truly never see him again.

If you're friendly enough with him, you could possibly invite him to watch something together on the television.

If you ask him what he wants to watch, you'll end up watching a three-hour long documentary on something - pray it's a topic you like or you might not make it out awake.

If you fall asleep during it, he'll just turn it off, and probably won't accept any other offers to watch stuff with you. It's not that he's offended, it's more so he sees it as redundant if you're not even going to be awake.

Don't worry about it too much, if you like playing puzzle games on a console, he might come out and watch you play. He won't say anything though, even if you get stuck. If you want help, you have to ask him.

Never brings guest over. Though, guests will sometimes make their way over.

Toriko and Komatsu are the more common ones. They usually come bringing food. It's a good day when they come to visit because they will share food with you.

Sunny is rarer, if you see him, it's usually urgent and Coco will leave alongside him immediately. You probably won't see him for a week at least.

Once, and only once you met a man covered in blood, half naked with a ripped jaw. You fainted at the sight.

Coco later told you that that man was his 'baby brother'. You still don't know if it was fragment of your imagination.

A stickler that he seems to keep doing is showering in scalding hot water. If you forget and just jump in, your skin will burn.

Apart from that, he's a fairly good roommate? He'll leave you alone, and won't cause any fuss unless you're doing something he really, really doesn't like.

Sunny

Passive aggressive as hell

If you shed a lot of hair, and aren't diligent on vacuuming it up in time, he'll gather all of it up and place it in front of your bedroom door.

If you leave the dishes undone for too long in the sink, he'll do the same thing - leave it at your door to trip up on.

You'll probably have a lot of petty arguments with him. Nothing serious.

He's a good roommate in other ways though.

He's probably not against sharing his skin care products with you if he doesn't hate you too much. He'd probably even give you tips on how to help or maintain it.

But do not ask him to borrow any or his hair products. None.

You will never see a bug in your living quarters ever again - he will eliminate the cause effective immediately.

The same applies to rats, or any pests of any kind. He will not tolerate having any of these things in his home, so you'll also be safe from it.

If you watch TV, he might come in uninvited and give you running commentary on the people's appearances or the show itself.

"Really? That shirt with those pants?"

…Even though he's kind of a fashion disaster himself. The only reason he can pull it off is because he has unrivalled confidence in himself.

"…Gross. He's obviously having an affair with the girl at his workplace. The story isn't even good."

He'll still watch shitty dramas as long as you keep it on the screen.

You think that he secretly enjoys it.

"…Are you seriously watching Toriko eat absurd amounts of food for entertainment?"

Insert scoff here.

He might actually just turn the TV off for this one.

Just remember to turn down the volume if you're watching late at night - he will be very upset if you interrupt his beauty sleep.

Rin has a pair of spare keys to your place. You'll see her in and about even if Sunny isn't home at the moment. The two of you sometimes trash talk him, but she mostly just waves at you and continue doing… whatever she's doing at your place.

Sometimes when she comes over, the place smells 10x better. You're not sure what magic she works, but you swear it could be drugs.

Overall, not a bad roommate, but could certainly be better.

Zebra

…You really wanna do this? Alright.

I'd recommend buying sound-proof headphones and sound-proofing your room.

It doesn't actually help that much, but it's really just for your own peace of mind.

Also team "Empties the fridge", but doesn't stop there.

You're concerned he might actually just eat the fridge. Whole. Unhinge his jaw like a snake and crunch it like nothing.

Jokes about eating your pet if you have one.

He makes half threats about eating you if you don't buy food everyday.

Doesn't even matter if you do buy food every day since he probably won't be there the next day

If Toriko had muddy footprints, he has bloody ones. Do Not Ask. He'll answer you, but you won't like the answer he gives you. Just save yourself the horror.

Police will absolutely come by a couple times a month purely because of your neighbours calling them on him.

Maybe it's the bloody footprints. Maybe it's the fact he broke the 'tiny' doorway on the way in.

When they explain that they thought that he was going to kill you, you laugh but wonder if the police would even stand a chance if he was going to kill you.

It doesn't help that he leaves for weeks at a time and comes stumbling in covered in gore he hasn't really bothered to clean off yet.

You don't even really know what to do in this situation apart from explain that he's a roommate.

No, he's not trying to kill you.

No, he is not holding you hostage.

Yes, you would like for them to stop coming at this point.

The few redeeming qualities are:

Your home is completely safe. You will never worry about a break in - he can hear anything happening for miles and miles. In fact, if anyone were break in, it would be him.

Yes, he's done it before after losing his keys.

Yes you just woke up, walked out to see him covered in blood, waved at him then went back to sleep.

Yes, you are far too desensitised to blood now.

Rats and other creatures are too afraid of living in your home - pests will actively avoid living there. Just be careful about your pet running away from home if they're able to. (They'll get used to him eventually)

He will sometimes bring back an absolutely massive chunk of meat - . You may eat it if he likes you enough.

But if you eat it, you have to help him cook it. No matter how good you are at it, he'll just shake his head.

…He's probably thinking that Komatsu could do better.

Komatsu

In my opinion, the best roommate on this list. Purely because he is the most normal on this list.

Will cook for you. You will cry tears of joy. Weep. You will be grateful simply because of how tasty it is.

He'll be organised with the kitchen, it'll pretty much always be full.

Just… If you move anything, remember where it came from, because he'll get pretty upset if you keep doing this. He likes a system to his madness.

The fridge will be fairly stocked, but he'll keep a list of what he needs on a paper stuck to a magnet. It'd be appreciated if you could buy these items when he can't.

You don't get to spend a lot of time with him. Between being Toriko's partner and running his kitchen at Hotel Gourmet, he doesn't have a lot of free time.

When he comes home, it's late at night. The two of you should be asleep.

In fact, he tells you that you should be asleep at this time. Fucking hypocrite.

When you do get to spend time with him, he's probably in the kitchen tinkering around with something new he bought at the World Kitchen or something Toriko had swung by to give him.

If you really wanna spend time with him, you should just pull up a chair to the counter.

If you're close enough to him, he'll invite you to help make dinner.

Don't worry, he'd give you something really, really simple to do.

There is no room for disappointment.

If he isn't experimenting, he'll probably be watching some sort of cooking show. (A massive part of his personality is just flipping cooking and I love it so fucking much) You're welcome to join him watching the show.

Just be careful since he will be asking you what you think about contestants three's pie crust. He will not be satisfied with a half-assed answer.

He'll have a notepad on his lap, and he'll be taking notes whenever something interests him.

His notes are very neat, so you can read them, but you aren't sure if they make much sense.

Toriko is a common sight in your home. He'll just sit on the couch with a bag of food he took out of the fridge. He'll give you a nice big grin while waving at you with your lunch plans in his mouth.

Komatsu will probably scold him a bit, but you know that nothing will change. You'll probably see him in two weeks doing the same thing again.

Since he isn't home often, and he's a pretty likable, you'll probably start doing his portion of his chores after long enough. He insists you don't have to, but you'll probably end up doing it.

He also gets you to get rid of the spiders. Don't kill them though, after meeting Toriko, he'd avoid doing these things. Just put them outside.

Don't try to scare him even as a joke - he will scream his lungs out and your neighbours will think that a murder had happened.

Also… be careful you don't join his fucking harem.

#toriko #toriko imagine #toriko x reader #this is more shitpost than serious I'd say #OtterlyFoolishYapping #Toriko headcanons #coco #Sunny #Zebra #Komatsu #x reader

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anjelicawrites · 5 months

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Beloved Cringefail Throuple 💡anon. Tumblr has eaten your ask about Billy starting an adult education course, with the support of Michael and reader. This is the not so short answer to that!!!

(Warning: swearing, Billy's lack of self confidence, a tiny bit of kissing)

SFW but 18+ only, please!

You never meant to snoop through Billy's stuff, you're not that kind of person! You're rummaging around Billy's messy apartment looking for the foundation you left here for the emergencies. Where did it go, though?

None of you is extremely neat, Billy tries, bless his heart, and you know it has to do with his life previous moving to Oxford; he hasn't told you, or Michael, anything, but from what you can infer from his short comments, he had been in a very dark place, and it reverberated in every aspect of his life. Now he's trying to do better, with varying results; maybe he had stashed it somewhere and forgot to tell you?

Delicately, you start moving the piles of papers and notebooks on the too small kitchen tables, hoping to find the small bottle here. You're trying to move things around without disrupting the various piles, that a small pamphlet falls on the ground. Again, you don't mean to pry, you just want to put it in its rightful place, but your eyes fall on the cover and you can't help but read it: it's from the adult education place that collaborates with the local job center. What catches your attention are the sticky page marks emerging from the middle of it. You're curious, so much that you almost open it, but you stop yourself and put it under the pile of take out fliers and run to your dormitory: if you're fast enough, you'll be able to put some make up on and go to class.

You manage to pop back at Billy's after he's finished with his shift at the pub for the day.

He doesn't expect your arrival but welcomes you with open arms and a kiss on the top of your head.

"Weren't you supposed to study at the library with Michael?"

His skin is still pink from the shower and his hair are sticking everywhere, making him look younger than his actual age.

"You know that he has a work project to finish with other three people, right? They changed the time they were supposed to meet."

"Oh, bollocks." Billy's fingers grab the bridge of his noise. "He's going to be a pain in the arse, isn't he?"

"He already is. One of my classes was canceled out of the blue and I managed to finish my scheduled study for today, so I told myself: why not popping by my awesome boyfriend's apartment and keep looking for my concealer."

"You're wearing it."

Now it's your turn to grab the bridge of your nose.

"The one I have left here. I couldn't find it this morning and had to rush to my room to put some make up on."

"Oh, that. I put it in the last drawer of the kitchen."

You stare into his blue eyes for whole five seconds, too stunned to answer.

"I left it in the bathroom a couple of week ago, I'm pretty sure of it!"

"I was trying to organize the space for when Lana comes. It was still sealed and wasn't sure if you still needed it or not. Besides, you always have your make up bag with you."

You're pretty smart, having landed a placement at Oxford on a scholarship, yet you don't know how to respond to that.

"Why not the bathroom?"

"The fourth drawer is for the things I don't use but don't want to chuck out, yet."

Billy's logic is airtight, yet it makes no sense to you.

"May I move it to the bathroom? I can do without having to run to my dorm and half ass my make up, if I forget my little bag at home."

"It looks all right."

"Trust me, it's not."

Billy doesn't understand your drive to always wear your 'outside face', as you call it, he prefers when you don't and he can see your beautiful, beautiful features.

"I rummaged about a bit, fishing for it." You continue. "I tried to put everything in its place."

"Oh, I didn't even notice." He answers.

Should you tell him? You're curious, at the same time, you don't want to come off as a snoop. Billy trusts you, and Michael, with his space, you don't want to betray that.

"Love?" He looks worried. "Did something happen?"

You know he battles with anxiety, you don't want to add to that.

"No baby." You go to him, your arms curling around his torso. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course." You can hear his heart speed up under your ear.

"While I was looking for my foundation, I moved some of the papers and notebooks on the kitchen table." You take a big breath. "And this small pamphlet fell on the floor and it was about adult education. It looked like it had been read and studied deeply."

You can feel Billy's arm tighten around your body, a big sigh fills his chest before he answers.

"It's mine. I was playing with this idea, but it's stupid." He sounds defeated

"No! Why? Billy?" Your hands cup his beautiful face, eyes searching for his and he's not meeting your stare. "Would you like to tell me?"

This thing between you three is so young, it was supposed to be just booty calls, it grew into this nameless bond so fragile and delicate you're afraid to destroy it with a wrong word.

"I was thinking about starting a course, it's about business and the management of your own firm. But it's stupid. I barely finished high school, and I didn't have to work to survive back then. I'll never make it." He says, dejected.

"It's not stupid! The pub owner will not manage it forever! Are you thinking about taking over?"

Again, Billy evades your stare before answering.

"I was, but that's a terrible idea. I never managed to reach a single goal in my life. I'm not going to start now."

"Says who? Maybe you've given yourself the wrong goals to reach, have you thought about that?" You can feel your voice rising and try to control yourself. "It's a smart idea to plan about your future and you're great at the pub, I can see it and I bet your boss does as well!"

"He's been hinting about sharing more workload with me, because he trusts me, me!" he says, self loathing in his words.

"Why wouldn't he?"

There's so much you don't know about Billy, things he's yet to tell you and Michael, but you can infer there's a lot to unpack.

"Because no one ever did. I only fuck up."

"If you were fucking up the work at the pub, your boss wouldn't have started thinking about giving you more responsibility."

"I've never ever managed to do the right thing in my life. I don't think I will be able to do it now."

He looks dejected and desperate, head hanging low, voice broken.

"Billy, Billy, baby." You let him hide his face against the side of your neck. "I don't know what happened to you in London, or why you think so lowly of yourself. But you've made a fresh start for yourself here. You have a job and you're doing so great at that, you're taking care of yourself and of me and Michael." He tries to interject but you stop him. "We're both smart, but we're both awful at life outside the books, I managed to land myself at the A&E that one time, during finals! Who's been reminding me to eat and drink while I study? You and you only."

"What if I fuck up?"

"What if you don't?"

Billy's eyes are brimming with unshead tears, you feel like you've pushed him too hard.

"Do you want me to go?" You ask with a small voice.

"No, stay." His eyes meet yours for a moment. "Let's watch something on the telly, OK? I need to sit on all of this."

"Yeah. Sorry if I was too intense."

"It's fine." He sniffles, one hand drying the tears on his long eyelashes. "I'll think about it, OK?"

"Yeah baby." You hug him tight, hoping he will truly consider going back to school.

A couple of week pass without Billy breaching the subject, you letting him take his time, feeling that you have already pushed him enough just by talking to him about it.

You three are enjoying the first days of Spring, before another gruesome session of finals, drinking beers at the pub (not the one where Billy works) and you are itching to ask him if he’s made up his mind, he had looked so stressed about the whole idea, that you don’t dare say a word and ruin this fine day, though.

When Michael leaves to get another round of beers and crisps, Billy leans forward, his hands on yours.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” He doesn’t look as stressed as he had been two weeks ago. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”

“Thinking about what?” You were so focused on Billy, and he had his back to the beer garden entrance, that neither of you noticed that Michael was back already. “What have two been scheming? You’ve been weird lately!”

Michael’s piercing blue eyes sweep from your face to Billy’s, and then back to yous, trying to gauge which one of you can be the weak link he can exploit, until he focuses on Billy, who is already shifting in his seat.

“Nothing. I was thinking about nothing.”

You facepalm: between the weak answer and the way his cheeks have turned a violent shade of pink, Billy might as well tell Michael who, like a shark that’s sensed blood in the water, sits next to him, eyes boring into his, beers forgotten.

“That doesn’t seem like nothing, Billy.” Michael’s accent comes out thicker than usual. “So, do I have to make you talk?”

You usually enjoy the shift of power between your two lovers, mostly because the sex between them is steamy and you get to participate; in this case you’re afraid Michael will cross an irreparable line and ruin everything.

Billy swallows thickly, you can see his Adam’s apple move; before you can think about intervening, Billy speaks.

“I was thinking about enrolling in an adult course in business to take over the pub in the future, but it’s probably a terrible idea. I have a full time job and no time, plus I always fuck up.”

Michael stares at him, weighting his words before exploding, in typical Michael fashion.

“Bollocks!”

He grabs your paper napkin and your lip pencil from your make up bag on the table and starts scribbling furiously, deaf to your complaining.

“See?” He shows you two the densely written napkin, not that you two could truly read his atrocious handwriting. “It’s doable if you put your mind to it. Do you want to work hard for this?”

You wouldn’t have worded it so harshly but, in the end, it all hangs on Billy’s will to try this avenue.

“This is not what my family does, what they expect.” He confesses, eyes not meeting yours or Michael’s. “This is not something Lana would do and she’s always taken the right path.”

“The hell with your sister!” Michael’s voice pitches up and you have to shush him, the whole beer garden isn’t interested. “The hell with her, stop shushing me! And the hell with your family as well! Have you ever tried to do something for yourself, instead of for them?”

“It’s easy for you to talk.” Billy’s voice is defensive now. “You’re a genius.”

“It’s not easy, I just don’t care about what people think or want from me. Following what your family wants for you didn’t help you all your life, why not try something you want.”

Your hand finds Billy’s trembling one. You know Michael means well but he has no filters and that doesn’t help.

“Because I will fail.”

Before Michael can add anything harsh, you interject.

“You don’t know that, baby and if all the avenues you tried in the past failed, it doesn’t mean this one will. And this is something you will do for yourself, not for your sister or your parents.”

“And we can teach you a trick or two for study.” Michael adds.

Billy’s fingers grab yours tightly and he looks shaken, his blue eyes big and scared.

Being in the bomb car had been the pinnacle of the fear he could experience in his entire life, choosing a path for himself shouldn’t feel so frightening, yet it is: the job at the pub is safe, becoming the next owner isn’t, the dark possibilities stack in his mind, weighting out the good outcomes.

“Your boss is old, he will sell.” Michael says, his voice pragmatic. “The new owner might keep you, or not and you have good ideas for the pub.”

“It’s a lot of work and money to manage.” Is it a little of hope you’re hearing in his voice?

“Aren’t you already helping out more than everyone else?”

“I am.”

“Then you know already what works and what doesn’t. He can’t sell you something that doesn’t exist.”

You can see how torn he is, even after Michael’s pragmatic words.

“And you don’t have to take over the pub.” You try to be as gentle as possible. “You can enroll and learn something new, which isn’t a bad thing and then decide it’s not for you. We’re talking hypothesis here. Baby steps.”

Billy sighs heavily and cautiously lets himself hope: maybe if he takes this slowly, with a careful stride, instead of letting himself be swept by a future that doesn’t exist yet, he can win this and be someone he is proud of be and, perhaps, his family will be as well.

You’re brimming with pride and anxiety, moving your weight from the ball of your feet to the back repeatedly, Michael is observing the people entering and exiting the adult education building with indifference, but you know he’s anxious as well, just better at hiding it.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go in with you?” You ask Billy for the millionth time.

Billy looks anxious himself, his long fingers clenching in his pockets, the backpack he bought for the start of the course slung on his shoulder.

“No. And I need to go, now.” His words are more cutting than what he intends them to be.

“Not so fast.” Michael’s hand curls on his arm, stopping him.

“You need a good luck kiss!” You add.

You three are standing under a pocket of trees, away from the main entrance, where no one would notice you tree share a quick kiss that makes Billy’s knees wobble.

“Text us when you’re done.” You’re trying to keep yourself under control, but it’s hard, your stomach is clenching.

“I can’t wait to give you your ‘well done shag’” Michael growls in his ear and, if Billy wasn’t so anxious, he might have gotten an instant hard on.

You two stare at his back as he walks towards the entrance, he’s wearing a new pair of jeans and a nicely pressed shirt, as a sign of good will.

“What do you think it’s going to happen?” You ask Michael, needing him to ground yourself.

“He’s going to need our help, because his brain will try to fuck with him, but he will manage in the end. As for the pub, he will manage. He’s far better than what he gives himself credit for.”

“One day we’ll meet his parents. Promise me you’ll help me not explode in their faces.”

“I can’t promise that.” He answers, opening one of his beloved candy bars. “But that day will be a very interesting one, of that I am sure.”

Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess

#cringefail throuple #billy washington x reader x michael gavey #billy washington x y/n x michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington x y/n #michael gavey #billy washington

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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Keith knows, objectively, that love languages aren’t really real. No one has a set way to show love — it depends almost 100% on the person or the situation, and changes regularly as people change.

Lance may be the exception to this fact, and Keith isn’t saying that lightly.

If you explained love languages to someone, and then had them befriend Lance for five minutes, they would have no problem distinguishing him as a gift-giver. That’s not to say that he doesn’t like the other stuff, too. If Lance doesn’t get a certain amount of cuddles a day, he pouts until someone gives in and hugs the boy, which never takes long. (He’s very huggable, in Keith’s — and everyone else’s — humble opinion.) Lance positively lights up when he gets complimented — it’s adorable. He spends almost every second of free time with someone else, even if they’re just sitting in the same room. He also regularly does little chores and tasks for everyone. That’s four of the five: physical touch, words of affirmation, valuable time, acts of service. Check, check, check.

But one thing he does, for everyone, is give gifts. Big and small. Once he got access to the crafting room in the castle in their first week of space, everyone had a little pile of clothes and trinkets on their bed within a month. There’s something he does, though, that always makes Keith smile when he remembers it.

Lance can’t go somewhere without getting someone some kind of present.

And he doesn’t always buy a gift — often they’re just silly little things he sees that make him think of his friends. But every trip, inevitably, he comes back with a little bag full of things he’ll leave for everyone to find (as if everyone doesn’t know exactly who it’s from). At the start of their space journey, he picked things up for Hunk and Pidge — scrap metal, parts, spices, gaming equipment. Whatever he saw. As he started to grow closer with everyone else and learn what they liked, he picked up other things, as well: jewellery and flowers for Allura, collectable little action figures for Shiro, cool rocks and plants for Coran (the two of them had a whole collection of crystals and fossils they regularly geeked over).

He brought Keith home a book. Every time. Every planet, even if there logically shouldn’t be a book Lance can find, somehow he does. At first it confused him — weren’t they rivals? Didn’t Lance hate him? Then why the fuck did he keep leaving Keith gifts? — but eventually Keith understood them for the olive branch/‘I-don’t-really-hate-you’ messages that they were, and things started looking up between them.

Now? Keith is running out of space. The paladin rooms have a couple shelves, but they were filled up pretty quickly. He’s resorted to stacking books in precarious piles around his room. Lance made them into a Christmas-tree-shaped stack last December (or, at least, what they guessed was December), which was pretty funny. But Keith has so many books now that no Christmas tree is big enough to hold all his wordy treasure. (Why don’t you just give some away? you may ask. Surely you don’t need to clutter up your room for books you’ve likely already consumed. And yeah, valid point. Keith’s read them all, he probably could chuck a few. But Keith likes his book collection. Lance is really good at picking books Keith enjoys, actually, and the ones he doesn’t like are fun to read to Lance in a mocking voice, which entertains them both. Plus, each book is like a physical manifestation of Lance’s care. Keith would sooner cut off his beloved mullet. So, no. The books stay.)

It really is becoming a problem, though. Soon Keith is gonna have to replace his mattress with a bookshelf.

#this is basically just an excuse for me to gush about lance <3 #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #pre klance #klance #flirting #lance is a sweetheart #i love him so much #autistic lance mcclain #my writing #fic fragment

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angelsdean · 1 year

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i do want my empty rescue i'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition full circle moment however. i do think it would be funny if my caspala crack theory were real djskfd like dean gets to heaven and starts driving and then cas's voice comes in thru the radio and yea jack got him out of the empty but something....is not right with him...(my it's really jack, but chuck is secretly there too / it's actually the god-power corrupting jack flavor of the chuck won theory) and so cas is hiding out in baby (possessing the car) bc jack-chuck wants to keep them apart since dean + cas have always been the ones to foil his plans, the ones that weren't supposed to be part of the story together etc etc. so cas is like whispering to dean abt all this with urgency (and very conveniently avoiding the confession) and dean (who still is nervous as heck to acknowledge all that and still trying to work out his own doubts and hangups bc what if he messes this all up with cas???) follows cas's lead and is relieved to not have to confront all of that right this minute. so they go for a drive.

and cas tells dean what he's learned so far in heaven helping 'jack' rebuild things. and he tells dean where to find the portal to the multiverse and about these 'fail safes' chuck left around that jack refuses to meddle with (and that's one of the things tipping cas off that jack is not truly jack. because jack would not just sit back and let all the worlds including their own get destroyed after they fought so hard to save everyone!!!) and so dean and cas(pala) decide to take on this hunt together and they go universe hopping and they find this one last earth universe w/ a version of dean's parents that he can save and they do that !!! and when dean gets stuck in the akrida queen's portal he sends cas(pala) through to help them defeat the queen. and then cas keeps mary safe as she takes down the queen<3 and dean drives them back through the portal.

then "jack" intercepts bobby in heaven and finds out where dean has gone (still does not know abt caspala) and goes to wrangle dean back to heaven. and then they get back to heaven and "jack" tells dean to stop meddling and stay put, drive around, take in the sights, go visit your real parents. so dean gets back into baby and starts driving to lull "jack" into a false sense of security but yea, after seeing jack again in person he's convinced something is not right. so he and cas drive on, and it's quiet for a long stretch of road. a tape starts to play though dean hasn't put one in and he realizes it's his mixtape to cas that cas is playing through baby's speakers. and dean grins all soft and goofy and lovesick. because now he's had the time to process some things, and the time to heal a bit via his AU parents' stories and finding hope there.

so they drive somewhere quiet with a nice view and dean pulls over and says, "hey buddy (affectionate) there's uh, there's some stuff we gotta talk about." and the speakers crackle with static. "you kinda left me hanging back there...i didn't really get a chance to...well, there's just something i need to say. something i've wanted to say for a long time."

and, even though it's risky, even though "jack" may be watching, cas appears in the passenger's seat. and dean looks up (still beautiful, still dean winchester) and he smiles softly and finally, finally says, "i love you too, cas. of course i love you." and cas's eyes get big a teary and dean desperately gets up in his space, slides across the seat and pulls him into a nose-breaking kiss<3 and then of course they get to the whole saving their kid part of the story and busting out of heaven forreals!

#this got so long it was just gonna be like a paragraph dhkjdfg #basically wrote a ficlet here lmao #but caspala theory is just. both so so funny and deranged but also simultaneously could be serious and sincere ?? i love it #spnwin #caspala #deancaspala #vic.txt

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1nephthys · 2 years

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It's just platonic.

Word count: ~3.5k

Make it work this time, Steve. (part 3)

PLEASE DO NOT COPY.

Alright, I'm posting this again because I deleted it by mistake (istg I can use Tumblr) anddd I want to add - the title is not about Steve and reader

Everyone was siting in Wheeler's basement, asleep. Everyone except y/n. This is not how it supposed to go. Y/n supposed to sit between Robin and Max on a couch and the whole group supposed taking turns to keep an eye on her.

"Earth to Dustin. Hellooo!" Eddie kept saying on the other side of walky-talky. It was laying beside Steve so he woke up first.

"Eddie?" he asked still kind of out of this world.

"Stevie? Heyy! Listen, I know we are probably not a the best terms, but I will need some food soon. It would be nice if-" Eddie talked on the other side of Dustin's device when Steve finally looked around the room.

His eyes finally laned on the couch. On the empty space between Robin and Max. Exactly were y/n was supposed to sleep. "Not now Eddie" he said quickly. Before the guy on the other end had any chance to answer and beg him to listen, Steve was already on the stairs. Hell, he was already on the corridor, screaming her name.

"Morning, Steve. Are you okay, sweetheart?" Nancy's mom asked him. He looked around and noticed the girl he was looking for. She was sitting with her back to him and headphones on. She probably didn't even heard him. But what important, she was all fine and in one piece.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry. Everything's alright" He answered after a second as he took few deep breaths.

"I think it's so sweet of you to care for your girlfriend. But don't worry she's fine. This murder will not get her in this house." Karen said. She had no idea about anything. This murder could get her anywhere. And he couldn't call her his girlfriend.

"She's not- we broke up. In high school." He explained which gave him a little stab to the heart.

"Oh, I'm sorry" She gave him sympathetic smile.

He ignored her and sat beside y/n. "Hey."

"Hey" she answered as she took her headphones off and put it around her neck.

"You scared me" he said. He didn't sound angry, mad or upset. He sounded worried, really worried.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep." She smiled a little at him "you kept blasting music in my ears, for some reason." he chucked.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that" he said with a smile, it was making his heart so happy to finally talk with her, even joking when no one was around, just the two of them. He looked at the table and noticed a map and pencil. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's- you know, when I was there I saw some things. There was mainly this red fog but- it's may be stupid but.. also random pieces of- I don't know- a house? Then this fucking towers and- and bodies-"

"Y/n- I'm sorry you needed to see that" He said as he put his hand on her shoulder. She appreciated it.

"It's fine- I'm gonna be okay." she rescued. Not sure if she did it for him or herself. She looked over at map again. "But I saw something specific. The only thing that was actually clear. I saw window- like not just a window. Stained glass with roses. I'm just sure I've seen it somewhere. Now, I'm trying to figure out where exactly." She told him. Steve wanted to help, he was thinking for a few seconds before some idea appeared in his head.

"Can you draw this stained glass?" He asked her as he grabbed the container of crayons and piece of paper that younger Wheeler girl probably left there earlier.

"I will try my best" y/n responded and quickly started drawing. Steve was looking at her hands, he remembered how good of artist she was. As soon as she started coloring he knew this door. He looked at the map, she was too focused on drawing to noticed.

"It's there." He said as he pointed on one of the crosses she made earlier. "It's Victor Creel's house" he looked at her. This house was abandoned for years, some teenagers were making jokes that it was haunted.

"Of course it is. He is connected with Vecna, somehow" she said under her breath.

"I will wake up the rest, we are going there." Steve said as he stand up, y/n after him and soon the whole group were siting in his car without any idea where they were going.

------------

They finally made it to the house. There were little, old playground next to it and a lot of wilted plants. It was ruin, all windows and doors boarded up, but y/n still could see a little bit of this stained glass.

"Is it the house you saw there?" Nancy asked from the back of the car. Y/n was sitting on a passenger seat next to Steve.

"I mean- I guess? The door is the same. And it's make sense." She answered, not taking her eyes off ruined building.

"Alright, we will go. Robin, you will stay there with y/n" Steve ordered, surprising everyone in the car.

"Fine with me" Robin commented.

"No. Are you kidding? Why would I stay there?" Y/n asked him.

"Because it's dangerous. Especially for you. What if he looking for you? And if this place is really connected with him, he might feel you there or something. We're not risking" He explained. Bullshit. She thought.

"He might be right" Dustin said from the back seat.

"You little traitor" Y/n said under her breath. "Come on." she said and before anyone had any chance to stop her, she was out of the car on her way to the door.

"You really tried to stop her?" Max asked, looking at Steve and then Dustin as she got out of the car and went to y/n's side.

Everyone else went after them, Nancy took crowbar and soon they were taking boards off the doors, showing more and more of stained glass.

"What we are looking for in this creepy-ass house, again?" Robin asked as she was looking at Nancy. Steve came to help her.

"We don't know exactly but we know this house is important to Vecna so maybe we will find out where he is. why he's back. why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for y/n." Nancy explained.

"But you don't really think he is in there, do you?" Lucas asked, looking at Steve's back.

"We will find out." Max said, now nerves were getting into her.

Steve dropped last board, showing the group stained glass in all its glory. "Y/n. You sure it's what you saw?" He asked, looking at the girl. Everyone was looking at her, but she barely heard him.

Instead, she heard someone else.

"Y/n." hard, low voice said "What are you doing in here, y/n?"

"Y/n?" Steve said again, since she didn't look away of the door.

"Uh, yeah. I'm- I'm sure it's there" She said after a second.

"Alright" Steve tried to open the door "It's locked." He said, like nobody noticed "Should I knock, see if anybody's home?" he asked.

"No need" Robin said, behind everyone's back, holding a huge rock in her hand. "I found key."

It took her seconds to shatter the window and put her arm in the hole, to open the door from inside.

"Ladies first" she gestured to Steve.

"Very funny" he said sarcastically but went first anyway.

Nancy went behind him, then Dustin, Lucas and Max. Robin was last one, behind y/n since she wasn't too enthusiastic about going in there anyway. They started looking around, Lucas even tried to turn on the light.

"Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill." He commented.

Y/n went a little further with her flashlight. She saw it again, this old grandfather clock. "Hey, guys" She said with a lump in her throat. She didn't take her eyes off in when everybody stand around her, looking at it too. "You all see that, right?" she asked them.

"Yeah. Old clock." Dustin said.

"Yeah, you saw it in your visions, right?" Steve asked. She could just nod her head.

"This house have the answers. Somewhere." Nancy said. "Okay, everyone stay in groups. Me and Robin, upstairs."

"I will stay with Steve and y/n." Dustin said, the girls already left. There was no way he would leave his sister with this asshole all alone, after what he heard. Even though she seemed to be less upset than before. She used to act like nothing happened, so maybe now she was doing it too, right?

"Come on Dustin" Max grabbed his wrist and pulled him to one of the rooms before he had any chance to refuse.

"Max you don't understand-" Dustin said when there were just three of them. Max, Dustin and Lucas "he did something stupid and-"

"Weird 'cause since she almost got killed by Vecna she's much nicer to him" Lucas said.

"Yeah! and I don't understand why! She acted like nothing happened for so long and I tried to get them back together and she'd never told me anything!" Dustin said, frustrated.

"Dustin, what are you talking about?" Max asked and then he realized that they still didn't know about this dare. "Let them solve their shit without your help, huh?"

"I don't want her to get hurt." He said quietly.

"Steve would never hurt her." Lucas said and he was right. Somehow. Now, he wouldn't hurt her. Now, he would do anything just to keep her safe.

Meanwhile, Y/n and Steve went upstairs. Y/n had song playing on her headphones which were laying on her shoulders, music was loud enough to feel safe but also hear Steve.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" he asked quietly as they both looked around. She just hummed, to focused on looking at spiders' nets. "I know I have kinda shitty timing, but after what happened- you know in your bathroom. I don't want to argue again, but I almost lost you for lifetime. I- I don't want it to happen y/n, I fucked up, I know I did but I will do anything to fix it." He confessed.

"Steve-" y/n said quietly, she was thinking about him much more lately, about what she should do.

"No y/n- just let me-" he didn't even know what especially he wanted to said but for sure he didn't want her to interrupt him "I know I had so much time to talk to you before all of it happened and now it's much more complicated because of Vecna and Eddie is there but-" Steve said but y/n interrupted him again when she noticed that something reflected the light of her flashlight from the ventilation grille.

"What's that?" She asked, it seemed like she totally ignored Steve's confession.

She rushed over there and lifted the grate. Steve sighed and crouched down beside her. He put his hand down and raised a jar. They saw dead spider inside with net and leaves. It looked like someone long time ago made house for a small insect. There were a lot of jars like this one.

"Steve, don't move" y/n said quietly when she noticed one spider on boy's shoulder. Before she had any chance to say something more, he started shaking it off which made the jar in his hand drop and break on the floor. He grabbed y/n hand and in panic got out of this room closing the door behind them.

"Sorry" he said after a second when he realized he was, in fact, holding her hand. He let her go but maybe, or maybe not, his stomach was full of butterflies and he totally forgot about spiders, Vecna and literally the whole world.

"It's fine" she said as she looked at him, totally not feeling the same butterflies.

"What's going on there?" Nancy asked as she appeared from the other side of corridor.

"Uhh, there was a spider. Were a lot of spiders." Steve said after a second "don't go in there" he added as he pointed at the door he just closed.

"Wait, stop moving" Nancy said as she reached Steve's hair "I got it" Y/n was just standing there, awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her two friends. Who in the world didn't heard the rumors about Steve's feelings for Nancy? Of course, y/n knew there was nothing, Nancy was her friend and she would tell her, but deep down inside, even during their relationship with Steve, she was insecure about it.

"If there's a spider, you're never gonna find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out." Robin said as she appeared behind Nancy. Y/n looked at her, grateful. Maybe it was just her or maybe the air became less heavy when there wasn't just the three of them.

"What's wrong with you?" Steve asked as he turned around. Y/n chuckled under her breath "And you?" Steve looked at her, then he heard Nancy also did that "Come on, you too?" he asked. "So you all are friends now? Awesome. I mean- It's really is- I mean I know you two were but Robin now too- I mean. You know what I mean." Steve explained, at least he tried. "We should all go out somewhere. After you know, we safe the world and stuff. You know, me, you two, Robin, wherever she went right now-"

"I'm right there!" She said as she stuck her head out from behind the wall "actually looking for something and not asking two girls at once on a date" she tested.

"It's not a date! We had just platonic feelings right there" Steve explained quickly. He pointed his finger between him and Nancy, making sure y/n got what he was talking about.

"Yep, just platonic friendship. Nothing more since freshmen year of high school." She added awkwardly, she had never thought about it but now when Steve was so desperate to show y/n he did not have any romantic feelings towards Nancy, she wanted show her that too. She always crossed her fingers for those two. "But I think it's great idea. Y/n, are you in?" Nancy asked. Right now, y/n thought about Steve and Nancy, she never told any of them how she felt about their relationship, so they never made it clear to her that this was just friendship. She felt like huge stone was lifted from her heart.

"Yeah, I think it will be nice." She answered with a little smile. Robin chuckled from her place but they all heard it. "Let's go back to looking for.. something"

"You're right." Steve said and he went to the next corridor "You're coming?" he asked as he looked at y/n, she nodded.

"So about what you said earlier, before spider attacked you," she chuckled before continuing "what did you mean about Eddie? I mean, you said it's complicated because of Vecna, yeah you for sure right with that, but Eddie part? You don't like him, do you?" She asked as she stopped walking, Steve did the same.

"I mean, I- aren't you two like, like each other?" He asked "It's not that I don't like him, he just- he is friend with Dustin and he-" y/n stopped him.

"Steve, are you jealous?" She asked him seriously.

"What? No. I'm not. Well- maybe a little" he sighed. "he came out of nowhere and now Dustin talk about him all the time and you-"

"Steve calm down. I don't like him in this way. It's just platonic" she said at the same tone as he told her about him and Nancy. "And Dustin really like him. He is happy he has someone in high school. You know, you had never experienced it but when you nerd or freak or not fit anywhere, it's nice to have a friend like you. I'm sure Dustin still like you. But you really need to talk to him." She explained, she was like that too, years ago before she met Steve, so she knew what she was talking about.

But Steve was more focused on something else. Of course, he was glad, hearing that Dustin might still consider him as a friend. But there were other words It's just platonic, his heart almost exploded.

"I- I will talk to him. I don't know how yet, but I will figure it out" He said. "Gosh, I'm sorry for that. I really thought he might- you know" take my place. he didn't said that but it was in the back of his head the whole time.

"It's fine. And don't figure it out for too long, Steve. The longer you wait, the more complicated things become." she said with a little giggle.

"Right." he said under his breath, he didn't find it funny but she was joking with him again. It's a good sign, right?

The song came to an end and Steve reached to y/n's mp3 player "Can I?" He asked, she nodded her head and looked down at his hands. "I wish we had a longer loop" he said a he withdrew the tape.

"It's almost an hour" she said. "I wonder where you get that" she looked at him.

"I have my ways" he said. He didn't even remembered. He had it for so long, somewhere in his room. He left the short version that actually saved her in his car.

"You never liked this song" she told him. Of course she remembered too, every time she wanted to play it, he always said it was cheesy and shitty.

"Well- maybe it's a good reminder of old, good times?" he said. The song started playing again "All done." he smiled at her and stuff became awkward again, when he kept looking in her eyes for a few seconds too long.

"Guys! Come here for a second!" Lucas yelled from downstairs. Y/n and Steve broke eye contact and he cleaned his throat, then they just followed his voice, his definitely not happy voice.

They looked at chandelier. It was shining. "Like the Christmas lights" Nancy said as soon as she appeared with Robin next to Max.

"The Christmas lights?" Robin asked.

"When Will was in the Upside Down, the lights come to life." She explained, really short.

"Vecna is here. Just on the other side." Dustin said. Light turned off again.

"I think he left the room." Robin said.

"Can he hear us? Or see us?" Lucas asked, looking at Max, then y/n.

"Everyone, turn off your flashlights and spread out." Nancy said and everyone did as she said.

"Y/n, stay by my side" Steve ordered, but the girl was already on her way upstairs.

"I'm not a kid, Steve." she said "I will be alright." she also added and she put her headphones on properly. Steve sighed but went other way.

After a minute or two they all heard Robin "I got him!" she yelled. Everyone from theirs side of house started making their way to her. "I had him" She said when her light turned off again. They all were standing in one of the rooms downstairs.

When Steve's flashlight shined he kept it higher. "He's moving" He started going where the light showed him, he looked behind him just for a second, everyone was going behind him. He went upstairs when his light turned off too, again. "Shit. I lost him"

"No, you didn't." Y/n said as his opened the door to attic. All the lights were on there. Just a one light was there, in fact.

"I will go first" Steve said and he did that before y/n had any chance to went there.

"Hold on, guys. What's if it's trap? Guys?" Dustin asked but everyone was already there. Even Robin and her complain about going to attic in abandoned house.

When they got there, their flashlight were flashing much brighter than it normally would. The glass in the light bulb broke. But y/n felt something more. Her head was hurting. So bad, she thought she was going to faint.

She didn't said anything, she didn't even had time. Their flashlight broke and then there were silence. Pain stopped, like it was never really there.

"We should get out of there. Now." Robin said.

"She's right. C'mon" Dustin added.

And they did, they rushed to Steve's car to drive away.

a/n. Again! I'm sorry it took so long and holly molly, thank you all so so much for every like and respond on previous parts!!! I love you all so so much I almost cried when I saw it yesterday. Let me know what you think about it!!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader

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lol-jackles · 1 year

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https://tvline.com/2023/03/07/the-winchesters-recap-season-1-finale-dean-heaven-multiverse-jensen-ackles/

Lots to unpack with this one but some things to point out:

Dean identifies himself as a hunter (alias: James Hetfield) and explains that when he got to Heaven (in the Supernatural series finale), he took Baby for a drive through the multiverse in search of an Earth where his family had a shot at a happy ending. That’s when he caught wind of the Akrida, one of Chuck’s last creations to wipe out existence if he failed. With Sam still alive, Dean wasn’t going to let the Akrida possibly make their way to his brother’s Earth. So as he explained to Bobby in an earlier scene, he gave John the letter from Henry to nudge him in the right direction.

Jack shows up to warn Dean about interfering, but Dean argues that Sam deserves a good, long life, and if Jack wants to cast him out of Heaven, so be it. Of course, Jack gives him a pass and tells him to finish what he started. Dean gives John and Mary his journal, then warns Mary to watch out for a yellow-eyed demon, before handing her the Colt. Now that the Akrida are gone, John and Mary are free to choose their own destiny, which they do by leaving town together, and Dean believes that he may have finally found a version of his parents with a true chance at happiness.

So this did take place during Dean's drive in heaven. Robbie later in the interview even kinda admits they picked it because that's when Sam COULDN'T be there:

There was the spot that takes place in between Episodes 19 and 20, when what happens to Dean happens to Dean… So there was an opportunity to tell stories there, but that just didn’t work for me because we wouldn’t have access to Sam in that way, in a way that we could easily explain or at least emotionally explain, and that just didn’t feel like it was a story that certainly I wanted to tell and none of us did. And the other option was when he was, obviously, in Heaven, because we see him arrive there and he has the scene with Bobby, but then he goes for a drive. That was instantly very exciting to all of us in terms of a space for us to live in and tell our story.

But I think my favorite part of the interview is this blatant lie:

TVLINE | There is a lot of Dean in this episode, which I’m sure is going to please Supernatural fans a lot. What kind of conversations did you and Jensen have about Dean’s presence in this episode and his mission? Did Jensen have any strong feelings about any of the details? Did he have any ideas for this particular episode that you can share? RT: With the finale, [it] was really kind of the same talking points that Jensen had from the beginning, and I don’t want to speak on his behalf, but he was really very clear about he wanted to narrate, he wanted there to be a Dean story, but — I’m paraphrasing here — he didn’t want it to seem like this was The Dean Show. This needed to be a story about Mary and John. At the same time, he recognizes there is a strong desire to see that handsome face again behind the wheel of that car.

he didn’t want it to seem like this was The Dean Show.

hahahahahhahahahha oh ok. Looks like he's taking a page out of the heller book where he thinks if he just says something enough it will make it true.

I must have zoned out from all the freaking expositions that I missed Dean's alias name.

Yup, the show was intended to take place on OG Supernatural and then somewhere between the wildly fluctuation ratings freefall they switched gears and took the AU route.

I have a feeling that Robbie wasn't supposed to reveal that the phone call was coming from inside the house this whole time aka it was actually The Dean Show The Whole Time.

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astrofae · 8 months

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Currugated ask game: 🤕🌶️🚀🪞🔎🎳💺🛋️🧱🧰

🤕-Which boss is the hardest?

The Swansong is the bane of my existence. I've got over 700 hours in the game and I've... never actually beaten it. To be fair that's largely because I never really bothered doing mech stuff until recently (my achievement hunter brain craves Parasprite and Cosmic Intruder figurines) but hell, even the dungeon is hard. I can usually just blaze through all the dungeons, but even with endgame gear I die fairly often in the Dantalion!

🌶️-What do you think is your most unpopular Starbound opinion?

I don't care for Frackin Universe and similar overhaul mods. I just genuinely enjoy the vanilla experience! (Well, I call it Vanilla+ since I've got a ton of little QOL/bugfix/cosmetic mods. One of them literally just makes Snuggets glow)

I dabbled in Frackin once with friends, and it didn't interest me enough to start my own playthrough. It's certainly not a bad mod, just not my thing. I might do a heavily modded playthrough with Frackin and the whole nine yards someday, but I don't have any actual plans to do so.

🚀-Which ship design is the best?

They've all got their charm, but I quite like the Hylotl and Apex ships! I haven't actually gotten a fully upgraded ship with either of them, but I do like the futuristic designs. The Hylotl one is probably my favorite out of the two, though. The patchwork look of the Floran ship is also excellent.

🪞-Which starbound oc made you discover something about yourself, or inspired you to try something new?

I've been taking art seriously (as a hobby) for over six years now, but I never really bothered to draw people until I got invested in my Starbound OCs! I was a Wings of Fire kid so I started out drawing dragons(and I still do, just different dragons lol), but I've even gotten into gesture drawing lately just to draw my SB characters better.

🔎-What's a small, easy-to-miss detail that you just love?

I honestly really like the bug catching! It was absolutely a pain to get all of them for the achievement, but they make lovely lil decorations. The wild bugs add excellent ambience when wandering around on planets, too.

Also, all the little lore snippets from scanning stuff and talking to NPCs are excellent.

🎳-Funnest toy?

I must admit I never really bothered to do much with the toys! I kind of forget they exist most of the time. If I ever stumble across them I do have fun chucking them around my ship for a minute before they get banished into a miscellaneous storage box somewhere. I should do more with them

💺-What is your favorite furniture set? What is your favorite standalone furniture item? Do they go together?

I'm quite fond of the Astro set! One of my favorite things about SB is the sci-fi setting, and I love all the cool space props available. I like to mix and match them for individual builds, but Astro is my favorite whole set just because it's orange lol

My favorite individual piece has got to be the Symbiote in a Jar. I like to put them in my ship as a friend. Just look at him. Little guy

🛋️-Top 3 furniture mods?

I don't actually use any! At least not any elaborate ones; I have a few for little things like gravity field generators, ceiling-mounted sprinklers, and craftable plants and coral. Also more colors of string lights and neon lights, because shiny glowy things are a necessity.

Letheia Expanded does look very cool, though! I love mods that build on the existing lore like that.

🧱-Favorite block(s)?

The good old Ornate Wood and Classic Baseboards are some of my go-to blocks for regular house builds. Heavy Pipes, too! They make great extra details.

I also love a bunch of the super niche blocks. There's not exactly a lot of regular building uses for a block of eyeballs, but if you ever need some weird stuff for a science lab or whatnot then there's that!

🧰-What huge, super ambitious mod would you make if you had the time/energy/skills?

CHARACTER CREATION OVERHAUL. I utterly despise the little arrows for selecting everything. It's already a pain in vanilla, but when you start adding in things like Colorbound and new hairstyles it is absolute agony. I've never even tried modding and I've heard that the current BS system is hardcoded in, but I long for reasonable character creation. NPCspawner's creation menu is excellent (it uses lists of colors/hairs to pick from rather than the wretched arrows) and I wish vanilla had something similar.

#thank you very much for the ask!! :D :D #i rambled Just A Little Bit lol #ask game #starbound

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chrisgates · 1 month

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Have Yourself A Merry Little Krampus...

Timing: Just after Christmas Location: Unknown, Krampus' Cabin Parties: @chrisgates and @zofiawithaz Triggers: head trauma and drooling Summary: Zofia and Chris are abducted by Krampus because they've been 'naughty'. The pair manage to escape but not without a visit from the werewolf, a scuffle and some good ol' fashion cast iron wielding. Hopefully next year, they make it onto the 'nice' list.

There were a great many things Zofia didn’t like about the holiday season this year.

All of the sweet Christmas love songs that were constantly playing on the radio made her want to reach through the airwaves and strangle the dj responsible. If she heard one more caroler singing at her to ‘have herself a merry little Christmas’ she was liable to give them a merry little bite to the neck. Add on top of those normal offenses, Wicked’s Rest came with its own special variety of holiday insanity.

Teleporting reindeer and sentient snowmen were the least of her troubles. Especially now that she’d been chucked in a bag and was now…

Well she wasn’t sure where she was exactly. Only that there had been jingling bells in the background of her kidnapping. And there was someone else there.

“Psst-“ she hissed in a whisper, trying to get the strangers attention. “Hey you-“ she picked up a little pebble and chucked it on the ground next to him. “Do you know where we are?

The last thing that Chris remembered before the lights were knocked right out of him was his walk to the motel to get the rest of his stuff — he didn’t think he could stay there anymore, even if he didn’t exactly have anywhere solid to go to. He just needed out. But he couldn’t do that, not when he was waking up to the sound of someone’s voice and a small, yet sharp tack of a sound that hit the ground beside him.

Normally when he woke up somewhere strange and unusual, he was naked, covered in blood and alone. This time, there was someone else there. It took him a second to register that this was not his usual bender when he started awake, his heart thrumming and eyes wide — though his breath was quick, his body was tense.

“No…” he drew out with uncertainty and rubbed at his forehead with a groan. His head hurt. “What happened?”

Zofia let out a string of muttered Polish swears under her breath before sitting up to take in there surroundings, even as fear gripped at her chest. This entire situation was all too familiar. But it wasn’t the same as before. Before she’d been alone. Before there’s been water dripping on pipes, and footsteps in the hall. This place was different.

It was dark and dank, yes, but embers smoldered in a large fireplace. The crackles of the dying logs and their hushed voices and ragged breathing were the only noises this… cabin?- offered. Cold winter wind howled outside, the chill seeping into the space despite the fading fire.

“I don’t know. I was -“ Zofia stopped herself from finishing the statement. Her previous activities had included drinking from a very pretty but incredibly rude young woman she’d come across in the bathroom of the Masque. She was also incredibly foolish, as she didn’t seem to realize she was on the menu in a place like that.

Makayla or whatever her name was, had the audacity and unmitigated gall to insult the vampires appearance, asking her ‘where she’d gotten that fugly old dress and if she liked looking like someone’s grandmother’, complain about everything in the club, and then tell the vampire that she’d wasted her time so Zofia should pay for her offenses with free drinks for the young blonde and her friends.

Needless to say, Makayla had been incredibly woozy from blood loss when Zofia had left her to head home. She had made it about half a block when she heard jingling and then- she was here. “I don’t know what happened to you… I was snatched on the street. What do you remember?”

Between not knowing where he was and the loop wound tight around his ankle, Chris would have been in a worse state had it not been for his company who seemed to be in the same boat. That didn’t stop the panic that started in his chest, however, only staved it off.

What was he doing? “I was… Heading to my room..” Did he get hit in the head? Is that why it was hurting so much? “At the motel,” he clarified as he took in the room around them. The sound of the wind outside was slightly comforting. “I was just walking - I… I didn’t even see anything. I just heard… Bells.” He also smelled a lot, too, but he wasn’t about to get into that. Not when the only thing on his mind was getting out.

Chris looked down at his bound ankle — it’s not the same thing, don’t worry, it never even happened anywa- “We need to get out of here,” he spoke in a hushed undertone, though there was a hint of urgency to his voice, a trembling that followed his fingers when he reached down to try to wiggle one or two beneath the thick rope that cut into his cold, wet skin.

Somewhere at the back of the cabin, one could assume, came a creak. It was probably just the snow.

Zofia went to stand up and heard the soft rattle of chain. She looked down to see a cuff linked round her ankle. The panic that had seized in her chest turned to fury. Not again. Absolutely not. Letting out a torrent of swears that would have made her mother turn over in her grave, she fished a pin from her hair and set to work on the lock.

“Did you get a lump of coal too?” She asked, swearing still under her breath as she missed the pin in the lock and started again. Red eyes were locked on the cuff, determined to get herself free.

“Already working on it,” Zofia grumbled, twisting the pin inside the lock. It popped open, and she shook her leg free. The vampire looked back at the young man, still very much trapped. He looked like a scared puppy, the poor thing. She sighed. She couldn’t just leave him. “Kurwa piekło,” she muttered before scooting over to set to work on his bindings.

Cold fingers began to try picking at the tight knot, when she heard a creak. The vampire froze, waiting to see if another sound followed. Silence. She set back to work. “What’s your name?” She asked.

The last time Chris remembered waking up bound like that was years ago, before the Great Blip, as he affectionately liked to call it. He remembered the ropes, the dimly lit room and all the metal on the walls. He remembered the cage and its too small of a size. It was claustrophobic. This room was not like that. It was small, sure, but the fireplace and various Christmas decorations, as old and decrepit as they were, made this kidnapping feel weirdly homey.

“Yeah..” he urged himself to say amidst his desperate attempts at removing the knot. He had almost forgotten about that stupid little piece of coal. “What, do you think it has something to do with this?” The panic was still in full effect, but it did make room for a bout of curiosity. Chris had assumed that he was just being blackmailed, that someone knew about the horrible shit he kept telling himself wasn’t actually happening, but if she got coal, too, then maybe it wasn’t as targeted as he thought.

He glanced over, catching as she worked to remove her own chain with what looked like a hairpin. Of course she could pick locks. She looked cool enough for that. Meanwhile, he still fumbled with the rope — like an idiot. Maybe whoever grabbed him knew he’d fail. He was half tempted to start gnawing at it when her hands flew in and started on the knot instead. The sound they had both heard seemed to settle down, giving them a false sense of time that they may or may not have. They weren’t dead, yet, which seemed to be a good thing. Confusing and worrying, though, as it painted that their abductor had plans for them other than an immediate death.

He tried to hold two sides of the knot to give her a little wiggle room. “It’s Chris… you?” There was another creak. Why did it sound like a footstep? Chris thought his heart was going to pop out of his chest.

“I don’t know,” she said through gritted teeth as she glanced around the space. “But I wouldn’t call anything in this damned town a coincidence. Everything is suspect.” There were holiday decorations scattered about the place- garlands and wreaths- but they all seemed… off. As though the holiday cheer they should represent had been replaced with ill omens.

“I’m Zofia,” she said quietly as she worked, not willing to raise her voice much above a whisper in case someone else was listening. “Are you any good in a fight, Chris?” It was worth the ask- she needed to know if she’d be pulling all the weight in their little escape attempt. “Don’t lie if you’re not. I don’t want to be down an extra pair of hands because you thought it would be cute to show off.” Humor would have colored her voice had she not been so focused on getting him free.

The knot finally started to loosen, when another creak sounded from within the cabin, along with the sound of faint sleigh bells. She quietly muttered a curse and worked faster, finally tugging the rope free from his ankle. She swatted at him, and pointed at a shadow that was cast on the floor far on the other side of the room. “Fight or hide?” She mouthed, freezing in hopes that whatever it was that had dragged them there hadn’t noticed they were free of their bindings yet.

That didn’t exactly make Chris feel any better. There was a lot of weirdness in Wicked’s Rest, but most of it he could brush off. But if she was saying that everything was suspicious, that there weren’t really any true coincidences to be found - well, that tickled his paranoia in the worst way possible. Coupling that feeling with the unmistakable sounds of a heavy weight shifting against old wood, causing it to groan and bend beneath the massive footsteps, sent his anxiety through the roof. Her words helped to ground him, even if the softness in her tone only came from tension.

Her question gave him pause and only served to worry him more. “Uh, no? I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t… If I had to, I guess, sure?” But not out the gate; Chris wasn’t an inherently dangerous person. He didn’t go out looking for trouble or tried to pick fights. He didn’t even know how to fight, not unless it was adrenaline that guided his hand, but any altercation that had ever crossed his path seemed to end in the same way - with him unable to remember it completely and someone either pissed off at him or terrified of him.

He did his best to help Zofia get the rest of the thick rope from around his ankle with hurried and shaky hands; he took note of the hidden spot she pointed out. “Hide,” for sure, not unless he had no other option. Right now though, they didn’t even know who or what was on the other side of that door. It was best to assess the situation first.

With as quiet a scramble as he could muster, one that might even make a mouse feel envious, Chris did his best to make it to the spot Zofia chose for them. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as fast as she was and managed to press himself against the old, stained and musty armchair that thankfully hid him from whatever it was that just creaked open the door. His entire body went stiff, head and back pressed against the aging leather, his breath held to keep it from shaking. A warmth flooded him, that uneasy feeling that liked to creep in during difficult situations, situations that reminded him of things he didn’t want to be reminded of.

His eyes turned to where Zofia managed to hide, wondering if he could spot her face, her eyes, anything to get a gauge as to who was in the room with them.

The vampire barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Just her luck, to be fortunate enough to be trapped with someone, but unlucky enough for that person to be no use in a situation where they needed to fight. Not that she was much use in a fight, typically. But desperate times…

Zofia nodded. Hide it was. She quickly, quietly slipped into a shadow in the corner and sat unnaturally still, ready to spring into action if she needed to. Chris, however, hadn’t moved as quickly. He was hidden behind an old armchair when the door swung open.

The vampire wasn’t sure what it was exactly. But it sure as hell wasn’t human. Her eyes widened as she watched the horned figure stoop down to clear the doorway, before standing upright. It loomed over the space, horns scraping lines the ceiling. Zofia swallowed. A human she could take in a fight. Whatever that was… probably not. And unfortunately, it was heading toward Chris’s hiding spot.

She had no time to think. She snatched up a loose piece of kindling on the floor and chucked it across the room, causing it to clatter in the corner of the cabin opposite of where Chris was hiding. The beast’s head swung around, refocusing on the noise. Zofia stared at her fellow escape artist. Hurry! She mouthed, waving him on frantically.

Of course it was coming right for him — whatever it was. He didn’t see it when it came in, wouldn’t dare sneak a peek, but he could tell how large it was. Chris would have that kind of shit luck, though. It was sort of a constant in his life and he even tried to act like it wasn’t. He couldn’t act like it wasn’t now, not with some huge, monstrous creature searching for them. The snuffling and scraping sent chills down his spine. It was angry they were gone. He would have mentally kicked himself for not making it to Zofia’s hiding spot if he wasn’t so scared.

His heart was about ready to burst through his throat — at least, that’s what it felt like. It pounded and beat frantically behind his ribcage, terror gripping it, and him, completely. There was only so much space behind the chair where he could hide himself before a foot or hand or even the top of his head was visible. If the scraping on the ceiling was any indication, he didn’t really have much time. He didn’t know if luck felt bad for him or not, but it was then that he saw a flurry of movement and a rather convincingly distracting sound, he thought maybe the tides were turning.

Zofia’s frantic urging helped to spurn a bullet of courage that shot him from his poor excuse of a hiding spot and towards the only door that led in or out. He had one hand out, as if to tell her to follow him in turn through the doorway while the creature was distracted. There was no way he was going to spend another second in that room, but he couldn’t leave her. He wouldn’t.

It seemed the young man had found his courage. Zofia watched as he made a frantic beeline toward the door, waving for her to follow. The vampire didn’t see many options. It was either scramble after Chris and risk death at the hands of whatever was in the cottage with them, or stay put and guarantee death for herself.

Not liking the certainty of death that came with staying out, Zofia hurried along behind Chris. Keeping her footsteps quick and light, she risked a glance in the direction of it, trying to get a better look at it. It was some sort of beast with hooves and a long tail. A long tongue licked over its snout, as though it were trying to taste the air to find them. It had some sort of pouch slung over it’s back, and it’s eyes -a bright yellow- scanned the space for what had gone missing.

It was objectively the ugliest thing Zofia had ever seen. Well, maybe the second, if she included the chimera. The vampire forced her legs to move faster. Then, one of the old floorboards betrayed both of the prisoners and let out a long, loud, creak. Those yellow eyes swiveled and locked on the pair. Shit.

Chris knew better than to look back. He didn’t want to know what the thing looked like, not if it smelled the way it did or moved the way it did or made the sounds it did. It sounded like a nightmare, like if it found him, it could easily scoop him up in its clutches and bite into his body, breaking him completely. He didn’t want to be its meal, he wanted to get the hell out of there!

But Zofia needed to go first; even though he didn’t know her and she seemed capable of taking care of herself, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he let her get in harm’s way because of self-preservation. That wouldn’t be right. His sister taught him better than that.

No good deed went unpunished, though. It was almost expected, like this whole situation was written to play out like a stereotypical horror movie — Chris could never get through any of them before he was left a shivering mess under a blanket or hiding in another room. This time, he didn’t get that reprieve.

He made the mistake of looking at it when Zofia made it to the creaky hallway. The monster was too close even though it was on the other side of the living area. Its mass made its short walk even shorter and it dragged a long arm across the floor while the other reached out with intent. It smell only grew the closer it got. Chris’ eyes darted from the thing chasing them to the doorknob in front of him and, without a thought, reached out to grab it.

The wooden door was pulled back with his falling, fearful weight. He felt the floor of the hallway meet his back when he heard the telltale shut of his success. It wouldn’t hold, but he hoped it would give them at least a second to get some space between them, even just a breath’s worth. But the hallway wasn’t very long and that door wasn’t very strong. They made the few steps it took to get to the mouth of the even colder kitchen before the door gave way with a sickening snap of its wood boards and groans of its metal hinges.

The kitchen seemed bluer, cooler, and lonelier than the golden warmth from the livelier, if intimidating, living space — but it was their only way out.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Zofia darted through the door Chris held open for her. It may have been foolish of him to do the gentlemanly thing and let her go first, but at least chivalry wasn’t completely dead. Unlike what they would be, if the beast behind them got what it wanted.

She heard the thud as her new friend hit the ground. She needed to think. Zofia doubted something of that size would feel much pain from her teeth, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to taste its blood anyway. She’d need a different weapon. Snatching Chris’s wrist, she towed him along behind her to- a kitchen. Well that was fortunate.

She let go of the young man as she rifled through drawers and cabinets, looking for something, anything to carry as they made a run for it. There were surprisingly few knives. She didn’t want to think about how sharp that must have meant the monsters teeth were. She did, however, lay her eyes on a rusty old cast iron skillet. She snatched it up before turning back to Chris. “We need to go. Now.”

He was grateful for Zofia’s immediate hold on the situation—and his arm. Without it, Chris didn’t think his legs would work well enough to get him away from the danger fast enough. It was literally right behind them; his heart felt like it was in his throat just at the thought. If he was alone he probably wouldn’t have made it this far. He likely would still be tied up or cornered in the living room and made into a meal, for sure.

Speaking of meal, Zofia managed to find herself a decently weighted cast iron skillet. It would do some damage to any normal person, but to that thing? He hoped they didn’t have to find out. Still, he was happy to see something in their favor even if he wished it was a way out. He would have been happier if he didn’t feel a leg being pulled out from under him. The monster had him—it had him and it dragged him back towards the living area.

Chris kicked and struggled against its grip, but he was dragged away from the kitchen and away from potential freedom. That thought set him off; it made the view of the fireplace and the smell of meat and musk fade into darkness, a familiar and, currently welcome, unconsciousness. The large, looming creature returned back through the now broken doorway to get to Zofia. But that was the last thing he heard before his body started to contort and break.

Just when Zofia thought she had everything under control, the demented holiday demon had closed its long clawed fingers around Chris’s ankle and yanked the young man back into the dim glow of the living room. “Sukinsynu, chyba sobie kurwa żartujesz!” She hissed. She couldn’t just leave him. Not when he’d been so nice as to hold the door for an old woman like her.

The vampire moved quickly trying to keep pace with the beast and the terrified young man it had in its clutches. She’d just cleared the doorway when a loud snap sounded. She paused, frightened for a moment that she was to late, that she hadn’t been fast enough. Then it sounded again, and again, and she watched as the young man’s form struggled and twisted into something… lupine.

Zofia could only hope he’d remember in this new form she was friend, not foe. Taking advantage of the distraction in the demons arms, she crept closer, twirling the pan in her fingers, prepared to strike.

The horned monster didn’t get the chance to go after the vampire before she was already in the room to witness the changing. Perhaps it should have killed the wolf before it woke, but hindsight was, of course, 20/20.

Chris was glad it didn’t, but he didn’t like what ended up happening to him, either. Which one was worse? He’d end up thinking about it later. For now, he took a mental nosedive to make room for the wolf and its rage. With a wet snarl, it made a move for the cloaked demon, its teeth bare and clawed hands grasping.

The hurried movement was enough to rock the monster off its hooved feet, but not enough to get it on the ground and in a more vulnerable position for biting. The beast pushed back, its strength surprising and teeth just as long. It seemed bigger somehow, but maybe that was the tall mane of hair or the spiraled horns that threatened to whack the wolf in the head.

Its musk was overpowering; that was all the wolf could smell every time it snapped its teeth close to the wet, stringy, fur that covered its body. The wolf was not much better with its deformed hands and feet, but at least it had a cute nose. This thing just looked like a demented yeti. A demented yeti the wolf wanted nothing more than to rip the head off of.

It was like something out of an old movie, watching her young friend transform. He’d gone from fresh faced and terrified to bared fangs and snarling. Zofia swallowed. She wasn’t the only threatening thing in the room aside from the demon any longer. She gave a slow nod of understanding.

It was terrifying the way they fought. Two forces of nature struggling against each other. She ought to have left. She ought to have taken advantage of the moment and ran far away as fast as she could. But this poor sweet man- wolf?- was fighting for his damned life. Zofia adjusted her grip on the pan.

She waited until she saw an opening. The beast was swiping and snapping at her new friend, and its back was to her. Zofia’s eyes lit up. Winding up like a star player at the World Series, the vampire swung the cast iron pan like a baseball bat to the demon’s head, striking it like she’d hit a game winning home run. Good. The wolf could get away now.

In truth, the wolf would have continued on until one of them was dead, but a good thunk to the head with a kitchen utensil caused its opponent to flee. It didn’t flee in the usual sense. The immense creature simply vanished with a disgruntled groan after it regained its composure from the whack. A sprinkling of snow was left in its place, but the creature had gone.

The wolf swiped at nothing but air, confused as to where the monster had just gone. It swung its massive head around the room and laid eyes on the vampire woman still in the room with them. No, she wasn’t the problem. The way she held the pan was questionable, but she was not the one who brought them there.

It snarled at her, obviously frustrated with how that all turned out, but it was grateful nonetheless at getting to live another day. It then chose that unusually quiet moment to scrape and pull itself through a nearby window, its mass too large for the window frame; wood creaked and cracked and glass shattered and cut until the wolf was through, its nose keen to find the scent of the horned demon that abducted them.

Moments after the pan had found connection with the horned skull, it vanished into thin air. Zofia gaped, having been prepared to swing at it again. Instead, she was left locking eyes with the tawny werewolf that stood in the center of the room.

The vampire stood unnaturally still. She prayed tow whatever forces might listen that he wouldn’t attack her. He’d been sweet- the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. After a long, tense moment, the wolf snarled before turning to pull himself out the window.

Zofia blinked, watching as the wolf left the space in an almost cartoonish fashion. The wolf- Chris- disappeared into the night, leaving a vaguely wolf shaped hole where the window had been. The demon was gone, and the vampire had nothing else to do. Her hand still wrapped around the pan (just in case), she made her way out into the night. Next year she’d be sure to be kinder, or at least less murderous. Or more selective in those she chose to feed upon. She would not be receiving coal again, and she hoped the wolf wouldn’t either.

#thread #tr: zofia k #tr: [ have yourself a merry little krampus ]#head trauma tw #drooling tw

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misc-obeyme · 1 month

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🪿anon here Hey hello! I thought I put in another ask before the one you replied to, but I think tumblr ate it somewhere between you and me. So sorry about the confusion, you didn't miss me at all. Your reply was lovely and I loved reading about your headcanons, especially how Mammon would totally biff people with his wings. Ask game time tho! 🦈 What is the character you have the hardest time writing? And as a bonus, if you're up for it: 💛 What's an impactful lesson you've learned about writing? I'm a fellow (and often struggling) writer and I love hearing what other people have to share, especially in the fandom space. Honks and hisses! 🪿

Ahhh okay, that explains it! Tumblr has been known to eat asks on occasion! Phew, I'm glad I didn't miss you! I'll go ahead and add your emoji to the list now!! Ah, I'm glad you liked my reply too I felt bad that it was so lengthy lol.

🦈 What is the character you have the hardest time writing?

Siiiiigh it's Levi. I'm much better with him now than I used to be, but I really struggled with him for a long time. His anxiety really reminded me of myself irl, so I had a hard time separating the anxiety of his character from my own. And this was an issue for me because it messed with my characterization of him.

I also struggle with Mammon sometimes. This is because I think the fandom's version of him and the canon version of him are different. So my brain is always flip flopping between them when doing his characterization. And I was so worried about writing him OOC that I would just kinda... not write for him much at all? But then I kinda reconciled it by deciding I was going to write my version of him and just own it! LOL.

💛 What's an impactful lesson you've learned about writing?

Ohh an interesting question! I would say the understanding that there is no "right" way to write a story. You get to decide what works for you. Even if a lot of other writers swear by doing this one thing, you only need to do it if it actually helps you. Otherwise, chuck it!

Specifically to fandom things, though, I would also add that having fun is the most important thing. How other people react to your writing is not an indication of how good it is. Things like how active a fandom is, how popular a ship is (if you're writing a ship), how many people are looking for this specific genre (e.g. fluff, angst, etc), all of that is going to impact how people react to what you wrote. You might have written the most exquisite novel length fic ever, but if it's about something not a lot of people are interested in, you might get only a handful of comments/reblogs/likes etc.

So the important thing to focus on for fanfic is how you feel about writing it. Write things you enjoy, write for yourself. You're spending a lot of time and effort and energy on that story. Make sure it's one that you're proud of, no matter how people respond to it.

I'm writing Arsenios's story and it's been such an amazing experience. I absolutely love it and I'm throwing my whole heart & soul into it. But OC stuff rarely has the same engagement as canon. So when I finally start posting it, I won't be surprised if it doesn't do very well, especially compared to some of my other stuff.

But the thing is, it won't matter. I'm writing that story because I love it, because it's fun, because it makes me happy. So how well it does or doesn't do won't impact the experience I got out of writing it.

OOF sorry to ramble so much, but I hope that makes some sense! I just think people get too hung up on numbers and things (myself included lol) when really that's not the thing that matters most!

Ahaha but I could write about writing all day... I guess it's my special interest. :)

Anyway, thank you for asking!

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

#honks and hisses made me cackle btw #ask game #🪿 anon #misc answers

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themwordcic · 2 months

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It has just been half term and the holidays can be tiring, there is the phrase, ‘when you need a holiday to recover from a holiday’. That is exactly what it feels like!

A holiday with children is often far from relaxing, chilling on a sunbed and sipping on cocktails at the poolside. The ‘Are we nearly there yet?’, starts before you have even got to the end of your road. The ‘What are we doing next?’, ‘Can I have another ice cream?’, and constant ongoing from the children is often relentless.

Having an autistic child with an anxiety disorder and other additional needs only adds to this. While very much looking forward to a holiday break, from coping with school and busy day to day life, a holiday throws a whole extra added level of management and dynamic in the mix.

It starts before you have even packed or your holiday has even begun. The planning, preparation and organisation that goes into making sure you have prepared your child in every way possible and packed everything you might need, is very time and energy consuming.

Part of the preparation consists of social stories of where you are going, sharing photos of where you are staying and what you might see, lots of reassuring talks, answering their arm length list of questions and getting through heightened nights of no sleep from your child’s worries. Then the packing! Enough chargers for the iPad! Sensory toys, comfort toys, a blanket to hide in for a safe space, a pillow that feels ‘right’, everything else, and importantly enough of the four ‘safe’ or preferred foods that your child will eat.

That first night is the longest, trying to get used to a different place to sleep. Smells, sounds and textures of the duvet not being right. At 5am, we were still awake.

The next morning, you wake to find that the fridge and freezer are not working in the caravan. Which causes increased panic and worry because the safe foods for your child are brand specific and only stocked in certain supermarkets and now need to go in the bin. A lot of holiday destinations do not have a large choice of supermarkets and with over £60 of food needing to be chucked, the start of the holiday plans had taken a turn. It was very fortunate that the caravan park was so kind as to refund the cost of the food that had to be binned, so that we could go and replace it. Although, four children, single parent, one child who was already struggling with aspects of the holiday, on day one and now an added supermarket trip to do again - was not the plan.

Over the rest of the coming days were many disruptive nights, wobbles and meltdowns, chasing after a child who had vacated the shop or building we were in, many hiding under blanket moments and just general ups and downs. Trying to manage some kind of structure and routine, meet sensory needs and manage what you can cope with each day, makes every day seem long and tiring.

In many ways - you aren’t really on holiday when you think about it. You are just trying to live somewhere different for a week and try and make it fall into some kind of sync to your normal routine! But we made it and there were some positives, enjoying the arcade, winning prizes and building Lego sets. Although, asking to go home rang loud and clear each day.

Going home has many benefits. Back to a bit more normal routine, home comforts, safety of home and all your things, smells and textures and sounds that you are used to. But coming home, managing your transition home, plus the numerous piles of washing, a house with no food, trying to approach the back to school and work routine, and general exhaustion. Exhaustion on top of the before holiday tired, in holiday tired and now the after holiday tired.

In need of a holiday to recover from the holiday, that wasn’t really a holiday! Well not a relaxing kind of holiday anyway! But it is all over, and there is no chance of that happening. Back to school bags and snacks line back up at the front door, drink bottles filled and coats washed.

For my youngest child, the holiday, whilst difficult at times, had been a break, an escape and time for them to not face the trigger of school. This now looms and is once again, tough, tricky, overwhelming and difficult. Tears and distress start days before school, worries and anxiety increase and we both know it’s going to be a tough few weeks again, before the next holiday break, as we work together with what you can manage and cope with, with school. Until the next holidays, a holiday was a break in some ways but a whole different kind of dynamic to cope and manage.

Getting back into the ‘back to school routine’ after a week off, is never easy for children, parents and even teachers. We are all out of sync. It takes a few days to fall back into a rhythm again. So go easy on yourselves, your children and those working with you and your families.

A holiday for recovering from a holiday - it’s never going to happen. And deep down I wouldn’t want it any way. You and us need home again, time and allowing you to be yourself and cope with what you can with school and life and out and about before the next little adventure that we take ourselves on.

#The M Word cic #autism #blog by ellie #mental health #neurodivergant

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feverinfeveroutfic · 7 months

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The Red Flannel Dress | Kinktober 2023

title: a cup of tea

prompt: exhibitionism (courtesy of @flightlessangelwings)

pairing: joey/chuck (like blood from a stone - royalty/soulmate au)

word count: 5263

masterlist | ao3 🍎

I had about three inches extra on the black velvet dress that I had been wearing all this time to Chuck and Alex’s house as well as Kirk and Lars’ house. There were so many times in which I had been walking through the grass and I could carry something like a scythe over my shoulder. The scythe for all that I had to sow for myself all because I wanted to wear a dress.

If I had a scythe, then I’d knock off about four inches from the skirt as well. That was my one complaint with it.

Every so often, I had a thought run through my mind that suggested I wore shorts underneath the skirt, especially when San Francisco got so windy once fall came about. I knew that if I was to live out there, I would have to adapt: even if I stayed in upstate New York for as long as I did while crossdressing, I knew that the cold in California had so much more bite to it. But I found myself walking with my dress on, and an updraft from the cold California winds in the skirt always left me shivering, albeit from a euphoria I could never really get from upstate New York. It was one of the many things I loved about California and primarily why I had very little desire in returning back east, even with as much as I called it my home.

I mention all of this because it was the final garden party before the first cold rain of the season entered the area, and I was invited on only one condition: I had to wear pants. Chuck told me something about Alex’s parents being there, the middle-aged Jewish teachers who weren’t as free as someone like me… I admit that I wasn’t properly paying attention and I had no idea as to where to find a pair of shorts around that big house to top it all off. All I knew was I needed a pair of shorts to go under my dress lest I got caught up in an updraft.

I was up and Adam before sunrise down in the basement in search of shorts regardless of my own doubts. I kept the dress off given I didn’t want something to happen to it: I made my way down into the basement completely naked except for a towel coiled around my head.

The day before Chuck had told me about a pair of shorts down there in the basement, buried underneath the weight of some old robes tucked in one corner of the room. Thing is he never specified as to where he had tucked them away in that dark room, and I knew for a fact that no one was going to see me below the belt the day of.

So weird of my soulmate to not give me the scoop, even if he was married off to another man.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and reached for the switch off to the side: pale yellow light washed over me as well as the vast space before me. Stacks of clothes were scattered all about the floor in junction with clothes on the metal rungs all around the place, and I knew that my work was cut out for me for the foreseeable future.

He did say one corner, as well as robes, and thus, I went from there. I knew it was around there somewhere but I only had so much light and so much time, plus, it was cold in there. Robes were around there somewhere, but through each and every pile on the floor, I simply couldn’t find it anywhere.

At one point, I stood upright and rested my hands upon my hips as I glanced about the room without doing anything else. The light outside was growing brighter, and I knew I was going to have to come to the surface in a few minutes lest I be met with questions about my whereabouts, or if Bizi made her way downstairs.

I was going to have to tell Chuck that I couldn’t find those shorts, anyway. Keeping one hand upon the towel on my head, I made my way back up the stairs to the first floor, but I had my hopes that he was already awake himself given the light outside.

At the same time, I knew they would be some time before the two of them woke up, and more so when their little tortoiseshell calico Bizi woke them up for breakfast within an hour or so. And yet, I couldn’t hardly wait an hour, not when we had a garden party to prepare for, and especially when the weather could change in California at the drop of the hat.

Nevertheless, I had to keep it all quiet: that entire house creaked even if those Diablo winds blew just a touch too hard in the middle of the night, let alone if someone put their foot down too firmly on one of the floorboards. I gripped onto the banister and inched on up to the landing at the very top; there were a few small cricks here and there, but I managed to do it. I managed to do it even with the towel around my waist as if I was coming home from a toga party.

Their bedroom door creaked open a bit more, and I stopped right in my tracks with my hand right over the railing. I nibbled on my bottom lip as no one emerged from there. I inched closer to the door to hear the distinct sound of a cat licking something. It was followed up by the pages of a book turning.

I poked my head into the room to find Alex laying on his side with Bizi curled up snugly before his stomach and his thighs. He had hunkered down under the blankets as if he was cold: it was a bit cool up there on the second floor, but not terribly cold. He looked comfortable, however, and that little cat always loved to cuddle close to him. It took me a second to realize that he was reading a book while under the covers.

He then raised his gaze from the pages toward me.

“Hi,” I whispered to him.

“Hey,” he whispered back to me. “I have to roll over…” He tucked the bookmark into the book and then he rolled onto his back. That little cat never moved a muscle as he shifted himself into an upright position against the heavy dark wooden headboard: his long black hair dangled down over his bare shoulders onto his broad milky white chest. His skin looked so soft and silken in appearance that a part of me wanted to touch him and kiss him as if he had never been kissed before in his life.

“Some days, I just feel like curling up in bed with a piece of apple pie and my girl here,” he told me with a little scratch of Bizi’s head. She pinched her eyes shut and treated him to a soft purr.

“Especially on a day like this?” I asked him.

“Especially on a day like this. Just curl up in bed with something to warm me up inside and a book to read.”

I stepped into the room, and I stood right before him, still with the towel around my waist. A part of me wanted to flash him, but not when he looked so cozy and with the cat curled up next to him.

“I need to look good for the party,” I told him. “I don’t think that velvet dress is good enough, though.”

“Didn’t Chuck find you some shorts downstairs?” he asked me.

“I couldn’t find those shorts anywhere downstairs,” I told him. “Those shorts that Chuck had told me about. Look around, couldn’t find them anywhere. I also worry about the day of. You know this place better than I do.”

“Indeed, I do…” His voice trailed off a bit as those deep eyes swept over my body as if he was undressing me. I stood there before him with nothing more than a towel on my body, while the only thing between me and him was a pair of fuzzy blankets and a bedsheet. There was a small part of me that wanted to curl up next to him and make gentle love to him without any hesitation whatsoever, especially with Chuck out of the bedroom.

“Actually, you know, now that you mention it—are you going to be warm enough with your shorts and your dress?” he asked me with a knitting of his eyebrows. “Though it’s chilly today, it’s supposed to be like… sixty degrees the day of the party tomorrow. I’m gonna be wearing pants and that coat I wore to our wedding, and even I don’t think that’s gonna be enough. When it gets cold here, it gets cold here, like I’m laying here with three blankets pulled up over me and my arms are cold. This isn’t New York.”

“You have three blankets over you? Looks like two.”

He nudged back the soft comforter and the fuzzy blanket from his body and showed off the thin flannel blanket atop the sheet. The way his slender body looked right under the covers made me think of an ironing board: something so delicate and light about him laying there before me, a delicate boy as lithe as they came.

“You should eat that whole pie that’s downstairs,” I suggested. “Get a sexy round little belly going.”

“Nah, it’s good but not good enough to warrant that,” he said with a wink and gentle pat of his flat belly, flat save for a little roll around his waist. Bizi extended a paw out to his hand, to which I set a hand on my chest. “She doesn’t want me to leave this bed.” Alex chuckled at that, and he rested the tips of his fingers atop her soft paw to feel her fur. He then shivered and brought the blankets back over his body, up to his chin.

“You want breakfast in bed, don’t you,” I teased him.

“Nah, I’ll be up in about thirty minutes or so,” he assured me as he brought his book out from under the covers and reopened it to the bookmark. “I just got kind of a chill.”

“Would you like me to get us some breakfast?” I offered him.

“Nah, we’ve got stuff being made for us this morning.” He cleared his throat and hunkered down: Bizi shifted her weight and nestled down next to his hip. “You can make us a pot of coffee, though,” he suggested in that silky, husky whisper of a voice he loved to use whenever he was turned on. “I’d love something to warm me up and wake me up, if you catch my drift.” He flashed me a wink, and I showed him a smirk in response to that.

“I totally catch your drift,” I assured him as I stepped out of the room. “You kids stay warm for me in the meantime.”

I bowed out of there and shivered against the cold of the house. I couldn’t be walking around with nothing more than a towel around my body, but there I was, walking down to the kitchen with nothing more than a towel around my waist. I reached the kitchen and the coffee maker, and the towel slacked a bit under my belly button. I left it as I loaded up the coffee maker and switched it on.

I took a step back and gazed into my reflection in the refrigerator right next to me. The towel dragged down a bit. I leaned back and rested my hands upon my stomach: careful not to make the towel fall off even more or even all the way, I brought my fingers to the skin below my belly button. It gave me butterflies to think about, when I realized that it was the only thing separating me from the rest of the world.

It was a feeling I couldn’t overcome right then. It was something that hit me like a ton of bricks and I simply couldn’t shake the feeling thereafter. I nudged the towel down even more, all until I was exposed. I let the towel fall off onto the floor, and I was fully exposed.

Something about being naked in a strange house. I wanted to do it more, even if I was to wear shorts under the dress for the party. I had to show someone, and I had to show it to my soulmate.

When the coffee was ready, I adjusted the towel and poured Alex a cup, although he had come downstairs at that point, dressed in a white button up shirt and soft black velvet pants. His long black curls twirled behind him like the branches from a willow in the wind: the gray streak at the crown seemed to shimmer in the morning light.

Still very humble despite his being a prince.

Chuck was still nowhere to be seen, even though the other Chuck from Florida came in and made us breakfast. I had put on the dress at that point, as I didn’t want to get piping hot scrambled eggs on my bare chest.

And I still hadn’t found those shorts, either. And neither did those two boys, either.

I was going to have to go commando at the party, even with Alex’s parents right near there.

Sometimes I wondered what Chuck really did over the course of the day, and when I was alone with Alex and Chuck from Florida. Those two guys would play their instruments and indulge in food of royalty, and maybe ride their horses and slough off arrows. I was the poor pauper of the house, and thus, I kept to myself all day. I wanted to be a royal, even with my being on the outside looking in. I wanted to be a royal and I wanted a soulmate as well. Testament were able to get away with it given Greg’s girlfriend, but I was in an odd situation given I was the fifth wheel.

Regardless of anything, however, I was eager to attend the garden party by the afternoon hours, and I was hopeful that I could catch Chuck at a reasonable moment as well. All evening long, I pictured him in that black velvet dinner jacket, the one lined with sleek black leather and delicate white lace, as well as those tight pants. The royalty made no difference to me whatsoever as I wanted to give it to him, even as I couldn’t find those shorts. Should we ever find them, I made a note to take them off from under the dress lest I be asked to show myself to anyone beforehand.

In fact, the whole idea of it left me awake on and off throughout the night. I was sleeping in Alex’s old bedroom since he moved into Chuck’s room after they were married, and I was always able to sleep in there without any problems whatsoever, but that night, I woke up every hour until sunrise.

Nevertheless, when I finally climbed out of bed the next morning, I felt as though I had slept all through the night. The whole thought gave me the butterflies every single time, and I wanted to get down with it as soon as possible. I buttoned up the dress but I debated putting on a clean pair of underwear underneath.

I knew what I wanted, and I knew what Chuck wanted as well.

Still hadn’t found those shorts, and in fact, I had no memory of either Alex or Chuck from Florida having mentioned it to him over dinner the night before. A part of me was somewhat triumphant that they hadn’t found those missing shorts: a cup of tea and a flash of my dress was all I needed for the day when I thought about it more. It tickled me. I didn’t want to admit it, but the feelings were very much real with me.

I kept my underwear off as I put the dress on over my body. I brushed my hair with my fingers and gave my neck a spritz: at least the dress had been cleaned some two days before then.

I lifted up my skirt as I made my downstairs to the late season garden party out in the backyard, the last burst of summer before the leaves switched color for the seasons. Alex was nestled in the back of the yard in between his mother and father, both of whom looked exactly as I expected them to. Kirk and Lars were at the table next to them, along with Cliff, and then Jeff and Larry. We were only expecting some twenty people courtesy of the royalty, but I only wanted to be alone with Chuck.

I spotted him on the far side of the yard, right by the bushes near the fence. A few rose bushes underneath the weeping willows and the coastal spruces that led into the forest on the other side of the property: he stood there with his back to the rest of the party and his long hair brushed to where it nearly floated over his back and shoulders. I glanced over at the Skolnick table before I ducked over to Chuck, who then bowed around the rose bush, as if he was headed into the woods.

“Chuck—” I called out to him, and he turned his attention back to me. His face lit up at the sight of me.

“Oh, hey, Joey,” he replied, and all the while, he showed me a little smile. “Did you find those shorts I told you about?”

“Not really, no,” I said with a shrug. “The three of us all looked for them and we couldn’t find them anywhere in the basement.”

“Aw, man. Well, at least, it’s kind of nice today. We can only hope that it stays that way.” He chuckled at that and reached for one of the roses right next to him, and once he plucked it off the vine, he held it before his chest. “Please tell me you’re wearing something under there.”

“Why does it matter?” I demanded.

“Because when the wind picks up and throws up your skirt, we won’t see your naked butt,” he replied. “Jerry and Arlene won’t, either.” He nodded back to the Skolnick table, where Alex was laughing at something his father was telling him. I nibbled on my bottom lip. “So… are you wearing something under there?”

“Skin,” I replied, and he raised his eyebrows at that. The way his eyes glimmered in the sunlight made me think of emeralds. He swallowed, and I had a feeling as to what he was thinking. He wanted to tell me something: I could see it in those eyes and on his face. I was about to ask him by the moment Phil Demmel strode into the backyard with that big full beard like Henry the Eighth.

“The party’s starting soon—can we talk later?” he asked me in a low voice.

“Of course,” I vowed to him with a wink.

I sat on the edge of the garden, enveloped in my dress and with my eye on Chuck as well as Alex and his parents, and all the while, I wondered as to what Chuck wanted to tell me back there. He had this look on his face as if he just wanted to say something to me, and he was so eager to say it.

I had to find a moment with him by the time the sun began to loom over the forest on the edge of the yard, and the wind was beginning to pick up from the ocean right then. It wasn’t one of those Diablo winds from the eastern side of the valley, but it still sent shivers up my spine.

Chuck then strode on over to me with his hands clasped to the lapels of his jacket and his lips pursed: I glanced over at Alex, who was locked in a tight embrace by his mother. He wasn’t paying any attention to us, much to my pleasure.

I stood to my feet and walked on over to the bushes as if I was taking a walk into the woods. I rounded the fence and the rose bushes, and I could feel the wind in the trees all around me. My skirt already billowed behind me back there; I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I turned around to face him straight on.

“You’re completely naked under there,” he stated in a low enough voice for me to hear over the winds and from the low chatter on the other side of the bushes. I nibbled on my bottom lip, and then I unfastened the buttons on the bodice of the dress. I showed him my chest and the top of my stomach: it was growing cold enough to wear my nipples were tightening up.

He stopped right in his tracks.

“Here—” I moved my chest closer to him so he could touch my skin.

“Whoa, Joey, what’re you doing?” he demanded, horrified.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m naked under here. I want you to touch me. I know you want to touch me.”

“I’m aware of that. It’s just… what are you doing?”

I showed him my tongue as I held onto his wrist. I brought his hand up to my bare stomach and I dragged his fingertips down towards my crotch. He swallowed out of nerves.

“Joey, please,” he beseeched. “I’m married. I’m a married royal now. I can’t be… around someone who likes to show me his dick.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t do it,” he declared with a shake of his head.

“Chuck—”

“I can’t do it, I can’t, I can’t.” He brought his hands up to his face, and up to his eyes no less. He doubled back towards the garden.

“Chuck, wait! Chuck!” I chased after him with my hands gripped onto the band of my shorts: the thick band under the velvet was already slippery enough as is, but I had the addition of the skirt on top of that. I followed him into the courtyard, right as the wind picked up. I held the skirt closer to my hips and thighs as I chased after him across the grass. If there was a metal grating right underneath me, I could stand there and do the whole Marilyn Monroe thing with the skirt billowed all around me and put on a show for Alex as well as Chuck from Florida, but not with those older people there with us.

I reached out for him with my free hand, but then he skidded to a stop before he reached the edge of the bushes. He wheeled around to face me with tears in his bright eyes.

“Joey, I can’t!” he insisted, still with his voice down low. “I know, we have the feelings in our souls, but it’s… it’s the royalty. It’s the fucking royalty that I can’t betray.”

“No, man!” I declared. “Not the royalty! Don’t listen to that! Besides you know how we all are.” I let go of my skirt and rested my hands on his shoulders: all the while, I had left the buttons open on the bodice of the dress so he could see my bare chest.

“I do know how we all are, yes,” he said right into my face. “I just don’t know if I can do it, though.”

“Why not?” I asked him, also in a low voice.

“I just…”

He closed his eyes, which gave me the chance to strip off the bodice and let it hang around my waist. I was a single button away from letting the dress fall off onto the grass underneath my feet.

“Chuck, isn’t this what we’ve always wanted, though?” I demanded with my hands clasped onto his shoulders. “You and me? Soulmates and Indian brothers for all eternity?” He kept his eyes closed as I reached down to the next button. The dress fell off my body. I stood there completely naked before him.

He opened his eyes and swallowed at the sight of me.

“Let me change your mind,” I begged to him. “Please. Let me change your mind.”

I moved in closer to his face, to those smooth lips, as smooth as a cup of coffee.

“Let me change your mind,” I whispered to him. The ocean breeze sent a shiver down my spine, and I knew I could go from there. I gently kissed him on the lips once, twice; on the fourth time, he reached around my waist and held me close to his body.

“Touch me—” He practically breathed the words. My hands up his back to his shoulders, and then my fingers to the nape of his neck as well as the roots of his hair. His hands rested down on the small of my back and my bare ass. Neither of us suspected it or even expected it. We were making out in the open with nothing more than a rose bush to protect us from prying eyes.

“Okay, we have to keep things very quiet because Alex and his parents are literally right there near by us,” he whispered to me.

“But everyone else is going to see and hear us, though,” I pointed out.

“We can think that,” he assured me. I whirled around and fell to my hands and knees with my ass up towards him so he could see me in all my glory for him. I reached for the bush right next to my shoulder and I nudged it out of the way so onlookers could have a view to us. The whole prospect of it gave me such a rush that I had no idea what to believe Chuck would do back there.

“Come on, big fella,” I coaxed him with a shake of my ass before him. “Get it. Get it good.”

“Shhhh—” He leaned down towards me and pressed his index finger to my lips: Alex was only a few feet away from us, with his parents right there next to him as well. Last thing either of us needed was to be caught by either of those three, especially Alex himself. But I was there, completely buck naked, down on my knees with my ass up in there so Chuck could wheel and deal with me. I closed my eyes and bowed my head: I needed a shower anyway, so my black curls dangled down to the ground left me unfazed. As long as Chuck could have a moment of freedom with me.

As long as he was able to find his pleasure with me, out there in the open with nothing more than bushes to protect us.

Let them look, I say.

I bowed down onto my elbows so he could thrust harder. The fact it was cool outside meant his thrusts were extra crisp and hard on my ass. Each thrust spiked with pain, and yet the pain gave way to something else, something that I wanted and needed. Something that I knew he wanted and needed as well.

I closed my eyes as he grooved harder on me.

One of us was going to reach the top first. One of us. I could feel my erection as hard as stone between my legs. I was going to reach the top on my own, but I had no idea if he was going to reach it or if I would.

As soon as I thought that, I realized it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, at least not when I felt my own jizz running down the inside of my thighs. I glanced underneath me to the skirt hanging down from my waist: I missed the inside of the velvet, but I could feel myself dripping down.

I could feel him dripping down the back of my thigh.

Chuck leaned over my back and brought his face to my ear. He ran his tongue along the side of my face: he was still coming down the back of my thigh and onto my knee. All our juices hitting the ground as Alex served up fresh apple cider to his parents about six feet away.

I opened my mouth and pinched my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone looking over at us. I didn’t want to admit it but there was a small part of me that did not want to be seen by the garden party, and especially not by Alex’s parents. Chuck lightly kissed the side of my face and raked my shoulder with his fingertips.

“So good,” he breathed into my ear.

“I try my best,” I breathed back to him with a crackling to my voice. I showed him the pad of my tongue like the filthy dog that I had become over the course of those several hours.

A clearing of a throat caught my attention, and neither of us moved a muscle. Chuck lifted his head from my shoulder for a glance back.

“Who is it?” I asked him.

A pair of hands extended out from the right of me and down onto the ground next to us. We were met with long curly hair and bright eyes coupled with pale skin and a square jaw. I let out a low whistle when I saw it was Chuck from Florida, who then flashed us both a mischievous grin.

“How long were you standing there?” I asked him in a broken voice.

“Saw the whole thing,” he whispered to me, complete with a flash of his eyebrows. Chuck then climbed off of me and put his arms around him as if to squeeze the truth out of him: still keeping their heads out of sight from any prying eyes, he cupped his free hand over Chuck’s mouth. I lifted myself up onto my knees, but I kept my back arched so as to not let them see me thee.

“Don’t say a word,” he whispered to him. Chuck from Florida raised his eyebrows at that from behind Chuck’s hand. “Not to Alex, not to his parents, no one. If anyone finds out, we’re going to have to do the same thing back here with you when no one else is around. Kapeesh?”

Chuck from Florida blinked twice and nodded his head. Chuck released his hand from his mouth, to which he licked his lips and rubbed his chin with his fingertips.

“Welcome to my world,” I said to him, out of breath.

“Yeah, I need a drink of water right about now,” he declared with a lopsided smile on his diamond-shaped face.

“We all heard you,” Chuck told us. “Except Alex and his parents.”

“Except them?” I asked him with a raise of my eyebrows. I lifted myself up and peeked over the bushes to find our garden party had come to a standstill, complete with their eyes wide and their mouths agape.

So much for being quiet.

But the Skolnick table was empty: Alex had disappeared somewhere with his parents.

Chuck then glanced over at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself.

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locklyed · 10 months

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Locklyle Fanfiction WIP: Gifting the sapphire necklace from 3rd person POV

Lockwood adjusted the collar of his new overcoat, looking at himself speculatively in his vanity mirror. He took a deep breath and grabbed a necklace off the vanity table as he turned to stride out of his room. He was almost out the door before he scurried back in to grab some papers too.

Lockwood passed George painting a door on his way up to the attic.

“Looking good, George! Just going to give Lucy the DEPRAC statement.” George gazed at Lockwood impassively. Lockwood grinned back and rushed past.

When he got to Lucy’s door, he stopped short. He brought up a hand to knock, then lowered it. He took the necklace out of his coat pocket, cleared his throat, and brought his hand up again to knock, then switched the necklace to his other hand before bringing up his hand a third time to knock, this time succeeding.

The door opened almost immediately. Lockwood clutched the papers and necklace to his chest in response. He leaned forward to look inside. “Hi, Lucy,” he said. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Not a problem,” Lucy responded. “Come on in,” she said, backing up to give him space to do so.*

The two teenagers smiled stupidly at each other for a few seconds, neither moving, just reveling in the sight of one another.

Lockwood took a few steps towards Lucy and then stopped. He looked down and swallowed before opening his mouth and saying, “Sorry to disturb you. It’s just there’s something I wanted to give you, and there’s too much going on downstairs. You know, George painting away like a man possessed; Kipps and Holly trying to fix those cupboard doors. . .” Lockwood trailed off. He drummed his fingers on the sheath of papers.

Lucy breathed out shortly, startling Lockwood. “Yeah, okay. I can see what you’re holding.”

Lockwood glanced down at the necklace and gulped. Luckily for him, Lucy had turned and walked over to her window.

“That wretched DEPRAC statement,” Lucy continued. “All right, I’ll sign it, but not now. Chuck it down somewhere.”

Lockwood hesitated. “I’ll just put it on the bed, shall I?”

“Yeah,” Lucy agreed, putting her hand on the windowsill, watching some kids across the street playing. Lockwood lay the papers neatly on Lucy’s bed, positioning the necklace on top. He turned to glance at Lucy and, after making one last adjustment to the necklace, went to stand next to her. He raised his left hand and placed it next to hers on the sill.

“The Problem’s still here,” Lucy stated. “Another half an hour, everyone will be hiding away indoors.”

“Maybe things will start to improve, now that those idiots are no longer messing around on the Other Side.” Lockwood turned his head to look at Lucy. “I mean—it should help, shouldn’t it? More spirits will be free to move on to their proper place, and not come back here.”

Lucy nodded doubtfully.

Lockwood opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again. He turned his head to look out the window. Lucy gazed at their hands, next to each other on the sill. Her fingers twitched as if they were considering stretching out and breaching the distance to Lockwood’s.

Just then Lockwood stepped back. “In the meantime, there are ghosts to foil and lives to save,” he said nonchalantly. “But right now it’s a lovely evening, and I’m going for a stroll.” His gaze fixed on Lucy. “That was the other thing I wanted,” he continued softly. “To see if you’d come with me.”

Lockwood turned away and fiddled with his collar. “It’s the first outing for my new coat. What do you think of it?” he said with a flourish.

Lucy turned and regarded Lockwood. Her gaze was soft as she leaned against the wall. “It’ll need a few claw marks to really make it look like yours, but other than that, it’s nice.” She smiled shyly at him.

Lockwood grinned back. “You don’t think I ought to get a macho leather jacket, like Barnes?” he joked.

“No,” Lucy scoffed.

“Okay, well, if you do want to come with me, Luce, I’ll be in the hall.” Lockwood stalked to the door before inhaling again and turning to grin at Lucy.

“And don’t forget to sign the statement!” he said before rushing down the stairs. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he muttered under his breath as we went.

“Did you give Lucy that DEPRAC statement, Lockwood?” George called after him. George shook his head and took off his glasses to clean them. When he put them back on he seemed to shake off something that really shouldn’t be his problem and resumed painting, whistling to himself.

Once he was safely in the hallway, Lockwood shoved his hands into his pockets. He dawdled up and down the hallway, glancing up at the staircase occasionally. He poked at the crystal skull lamp.

“What are you doing lurking by the door, Tony?”

“Ah—Kipps. I was just going to go for a stroll. Lovely evening and all that.”

“Better hurry,” Holly warned. “It’s almost curfew. Maybe you should take a rapier in case you get caught out.”

Lockwood grinned, “Excellent suggestion, Holly. I think I’ll do that.” Lockwood crossed over to the urn and took a rapier, tucking it into his belt.**

Holly and Kipps continued watching him. Kipps crossed his arms. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Well, weren’t you going out for a walk?”

“Well, yes . . . I was waiting to see if Lucy might join me.”

“Oh, are you waiting for Lucy?” Holly queried innocently.

“You know, it is a nice evening. Perhaps I’ll go for a walk—“ Kipps started, before Holly bumped his arm, clearing her throat.

“We still need to finish checking those cabinets.”

“Right. Sure. The cabinets.”

Just then Lucy came bounding down the stairs.

Lockwood turned to look at her and broke out into a genuine smile. Lucy’s own smile, already present, broadened in response. She slowed as she approached and for a moment they just stood, smiling at each other.

“Ready to go?” Lockwood asked, proffering his arm.

“Ready,” Lucy breathed, grabbing his arm, the sapphire necklace sparkling in the rays of the setting sun streaming in through the open door.

_____

“Do you think they . . . talked?” Holly asked.

“Doesn’t seem like Tony’s style. Looks like he gave her his mother’s necklace though.”

“You mean that sapphire necklace?”

“Yeah,” Kipps said, turning to exit the hall. “Tony was showing it to her before the Winkmans showed up.”***

Notes:

*After Lucy opens the door, Lucy and Lockwood smile at each other “across the little room,” which begs the question of how they got so far apart.

**I have no idea how agents are supposed to carry their rapiers. The books mention Velcro.

***This implies that Kipps overheard Lockwood’s conversation with Lucy and purposefully interrupted at the crucial moment.

Further notes:

Dialogue is pretty much straight from the book. I broke it up differently at times and it’s amazing how that changes the emphasis.

The characters are a combination of the book and TV show. I prefer George Karim, but I gave my fic’s George the glasses cleaning habit of George Cubbins. On the other hand, TV!Kipps has a thing for Lucy, but there’s no indication of that in the books. But if you factor in TV!Kipps then there’s more motivation for his needling of Lockwood, though I don’t see him as being too jealous since he Knows. Everyone at Portland 35 Knows, with the exception of Lockwood and Lucy.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #locklyle #fanfiction #wip #rough draft #George is tired #everyone at Portland 35 is tired #they’re idiots your honor #idiots in love

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cosmolog · 1 year

Text

Duskwood Detectives

Part 4 Choice 1

Go with Richy

"Okay, then. If you say he won't mind, fine" She decided.

Richy smiled, standing up and grabbing his coat, slipping it on. Y/n stood up and followed him out of the bar.

Jake was quick to hide behind the buildings side wall, peering around it to watch Y/n get into Richy's car. "It's a cold night" Richy commented before getting into the passenger's seat and closing the door, Y/n turning the car on.

"what the hell?" Jake mumbled to himself. This wasn't supposed to happen at all.

He took out his phone, glancing up at the car as it started to drive off. He had already taken a picture of its licence plate so he could track Richy.

He went straight for Y/n contact, which was pinned to the top for fast access.

What's going on?

He texted, waiting for her to reply. No response came during the next 20 seconds, so Jake tried again.

Y/n, why did you get into Richy's car? What are you doing? Please answer me

Her phone continued to buzz, making her stop her conversation and take her phone out.

I'm okay, Jake. Don't worry, I'm just making sure Richy gets home safe. I'm driving so I can't text any more

Jake sighed in relief as he read her reply.

Okay, but text me when you get there

I will

Once the two arrived at Carlo's house, Richy opened the door with a spare key and let himself in, closing the door after Y/n was inside.

"Tell Carlos he's got a very nice house" Y/n smiled, looking around at the electric fire and cozy living space.

"You can tell him yourself when he comes back. Do you want a drink?" Richy said, Y/n shaking her head in response.

"No, and you shouldn't drink any more either" She said. She did have a drink at the bar but not as much as Richy.

Richy sighed. "You're right. I just can't help it" He said. "The past three years have not been my finest. I did a lot of shitty things"

"Let's forget about all of it for tonight. It's all I've been thinking about for the past three years. I just wanna sleep" She said.

"Okay. Well, Carlos only has one bed for his guests, it's the room I use. You can have it for the night and I'll sleep somewhere else?" He offered.

"No, I can't possibly chuck you out of your bed. Plus, you need rest as well. Proper rest. We'll share" She said.

Richy looking unsure of himself before nodding in agreement. "Okay" he stood up. "I'll get you some clothes"

He walked out of the room, leaving Y/n to her thoughts. A buzz from her phone made her snap out of it and take her phone out to look at the new message.

Are you alright? Have you arrive at Richy's place?"

Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna stay the night at Richy's so I'll message you in the morning. Okay, Jake?

Okay. Don't forget to

I won't

Goodnight, Y/n

Goodnight, Jake

After Y/n got dressed into the clothes Richy had lent her, she got into bed beside him. He had already gotten dressed in the bathroom.

"Goodnight, Rich" She smiled, closing her eyes as Richy turned the light off.

"Goodnight, Y/n" Richy replied, though Y/n had already fallen asleep. "I love you" he whispered.

The next morning, Richy had woke up first. Y/n could hear him cooking breakfast for the two of them in the kitchen. She smiled, opening her eyes slowly, only for her phone to ring.

She groaned, reluctantly sitting up and grabbing her phone from the night stand, looking at the caller ID.

She recognised the number. Alan Bloomgate. Chief of police in Duskwood. He had tried to contact her multiple times after the Duskwood incident, but she never picked up.

Pick up.

#duskwood #dan #cleo #duskwoodcharacters #femalereader #jessy #richy #xreader #jake

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theladycarpathia · 2 years

Text

Harringrove Week Day 3

July 31st - Sixteen candles drive in

“So what’s this supposed to be?” Billy asks, jiggling one leg impatiently in the foot-well. He’s playing with the radio, unable to settle on any one station. He’s picked Steve up for their last three dates in his Camaro and he’s not coping well being in the passenger seat.

“Drive in movie,” Steve says, hoping that the fucking GPS is taking him the right way. How exactly do the satellites know how to find an empty field in the middle of fucking nowhere? “I didn’t know Hawkins even had one.”

Seriously. But when Steve had been stressing about where to take Billy on their date, Robin had come to the rescue. It was cute, it was unusual, it would be dark. Or it will be, once Steve finds this goddamn farm entrance.

“No shit,” Billy briefly looks impressed before he frowns at the stereo. “What even is this shit?” Steve signals and gives a huff of laughter.

“Not all music made after 1986 is shit,” he says, and Billy’s mouth twists.

“That is a difference of opinion, Steven,” he says, jamming at the buttons. “You really need a cable in here.”

“So you can make fun of my music instead?” Steve retorts, because they both know that would happen. Billy had taken one look at Steve’s Spotify and had probably immediately thought about reconsidering their relationship. He’d certainly mocked Steve for a good twenty minutes until their entrees arrived.

Steve still stands by that Little Mix playlist, by the way.

“Alright, so I can put my music in,” Billy says, with a flash of teeth. He peers out of the window at the long lines of trees, the lack of any obvious landmarks making it impossible to know if they’ve already shot past it. “Are we lost?”

“We’re not lost,” Steve says through gritted teeth, this close to chucking the stupid unit away for lying to him. He’ll throw it out of the window and then he and Billy can park somewhere and make out in the dark. This is their fourth date and he needs it to go well. Billy is capable of having anyone he wants and the last thing that Steve needs is him remembering that. Robin even cleared out of their apartment tonight, just so Steve could have the place to himself.

“There!” Billy slaps a hand on the dash, leaning forward to squint at the sign hanging off of a fence. There’s even a few balloons swaying in the weak breeze, and it looks a little like an invitation to be murdered in some abandoned corn field. But Steve is so fucking glad to see it, he signals and makes the turn onto a dark, bumpy track.

“You’d think they would have lit this better,” Billy comments and Steve scowls.

But as they emerge into the field, Steve’s relieved to see that the area is actually lit up by many gently flickering strings of lights to counter the slowly setting sun. There’s streamers and more balloons, and enough cars that Steve no longer feels like he and Billy are going to get hauled off in the middle of the movie, like the kids from House of Wax.

Steve pulls down his window long enough to hand some cash to the guy with the bucket and then pulls into an empty space.

“Ta da!” he says, gesturing at the massive ‘screen’ suspended right in front of them. “Drive in movie. Cool, huh?”

“Extremely,” Billy says slowly, looking a bit baffled. “And what happened to regular movies?”

“Out. Very. They’ve been done,” Steve explains, reaching in the backseat for the cooler. “I heard it from a very reliable source. Also, this is romantic. Or some shit.”

“Or some shit,” Billy repeats, looking bemused. “Harrington, you old softy. You trying to butter me up or something?” Steve is grateful that he’s still looking in the backseat, because otherwise Billy will catch sight of his flushed face and catch on.

He’s not seriously about to go ‘Yeah, you got me! I wanted to do something sweet and fun where we can make out, so you can take me back to my empty apartment and you can absolutely rail me.’

“I thought it might be a nice change,” Steve fibs and presses a cold can of beer into Billy’s hand. “Robin came here with her girlfriend a few weeks back.” Billy turns to look at the car next to them, a Volvo where the inhabitants have gotten started on a few activities that are definitely not suitable for anything family friendly.

“I can see the appeal,” Billy says, with a leer. He cracks open the beer and takes a quick chug. “Alright, Harrington. I’m sold. What are we seeing?”

“Sixteen Candles,” Steve says, with a shrug. His can of Coke is dripping condensation down his fingers already. The film wasn’t his first choice, and it certainly won’t be Billy’s, but he had no other options. He knows full well that Heather Holloway started hanging around Billy at work, and it’s not because of her sudden need for a caffeine fix. “There wasn’t much choice for this week. It was this or the early family showing of Minions.” Billy makes a face.

“Yeah, no, I’m not feeling you up in front of a bunch of kids,” Billy says, shaking his head. Steve snorts and opens his coke.

“Honestly, Hargrove, that’s an insult to my honor,” he says, pausing to take a long drink and hoping that the sugar hitting his system will improve his mood. “I’m not that easy.” The hand that slides into his lap startles him so much that he nearly lets go of the coke. His breath catches in his throat as Billy’s hand slides itself neatly up his bare thigh and along the inseam of his shorts.

He wishes he’d been able to be that bold. Billy’s the first guy he’s tried to actually date - and not just share drunken hand-jobs and a walk of shame with the next day - and he hasn’t quite figured out the rhythms yet. Robin had almost burst laughing when she’d found out that Steve Harrington, King Steve, didn’t know how to make a move.

“Now you know how the rest of us feel,” she’d said, bluntly. “Most of the world feels like this, Steve. We don’t always know the next move in the game.”

Steve hates it. He always has the moves, has the control. Knows exactly how to sweep a girl’s hair off her shoulder, how to carry her bag, when to kiss her. It’s a dance he knows well, having done it countless times between high school and now.

He forgot all the steps the day he saw Billy for the first time.

“I think you are,” Billy says, his voice a low rumble. His teeth are just a faint gleam in the dark. It doesn’t matter because Steve knows exactly what Billy’s smile looks like. Mischievous, wicked, just a little bit hungry. In the few weeks that they’ve been officially dating - and the many, many months of flirting before that - Steve has become intimately acquainted with that smile. His hands shift to rub at the front of Steve’s shorts and Steve can’t stop the strangled moan that escapes from his throat. He was half hard the minute Billy touched him and the slow drag of Billy’s fingers over his erection completely unravel any control he might have had.

“I'll just take that,” Billy murmurs and relieves him of the dangerously tilting can of coke before it can spill all over the upholstery. The minute he’s set it down, Steve yanks Billy towards him, curling one hand in the material of Billy’s shirt.

“Okay, so maybe I am,” Steve admits, because if there ever was an understatement. Nancy could write about it in one of her journalism classes; local man absolute slut for barista. “What are you going to do about it?”

Billy pulls him into a deep kiss, swallowing the surprised gasp from Steve’s lips with tongue and teeth.

“Cocky bastard,” Steve mumbles against Billy’s mouth, unwilling to stop kissing him for even a second. Billy presses a few open mouthed kisses against his jaw, drifting away down the curves and dips of Steve’s tanned skin.

“You love it,” Billy counters, fingers inching up to flick open the buttons on Steve’s shorts. Steve hopes that they’re not gonna get thrown out before the film even starts for indecency.

“Bite me,” Steve says, tilting his chin up, half challenge, half invitation, and Billy tugs back just enough material so that he can sink his teeth in the curve of Steve’s shoulder.

“Oh, shit,” Steve gasps, and it’s only Billy’s hand at his waist that keeps him from falling back against the car door. He didn’t know this before Billy, the way the slight edge of pain makes his knees buckle, and his breath catch in his throat. The girls he’s been with before hadn’t tried it, save for Nancy and the razor-blade she took to his heart.

Because now that he has this, he’s not sure he’s willing to give it up. The sharp scrape of teeth against his skin, fingers wound a little too tightly into his hair, a hand pinning down his wrists. It’s an addiction he has had a taste of and now, like an addict, craves every fix that comes his way.

They’re pulled apart by the sudden shrill sound of a girl screaming.

“I didn’t think there was screaming in Sixteen Candles,” Billy says, brows knit together in confusion. His mouth is red and wet, his hand still grazing the top of Steve’s boxers, the sound having cut them off before he had a chance to slip inside. Steve slowly shakes his head and turns his eyes towards the screen, which has long since started without them.

“Definitely not Sixteen Candles,” Steve sighs, watching Chrissie Watkins cling to a buoy and sob, before the killer shark finally pulls her under. He must have read the timetable wrong or something. Looked at the 29th of June instead of July. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Billy tells him, rubbing a thumb over Steve’s jaw. “I like Jaws. We can still make out to Jaws.”

“You’re from California,” Steve says skeptically, because he watched Jaws on a sleepover when he was ten and it may have affected his desire to never swim anywhere but the local pool. “You lived by the sea. How can you like Jaws?”

“Awww, and you’re from Bumfuck, Indiana, and still too afraid to go in the ocean?” Billy says with a smirk, the swipe of his thumb over Steve’s inner thigh stopping his words from being too sharp. He likes that about Billy - that the bite in his words is as far as it goes.

“Ha ha,” Steve says dryly and then sighs. “I suppose blood and mauling and the shark roaring in the last act are as good a backdrop as any.”

“I thought it was Jaws 4 when the shark roared?”

“Well, yeah but it does in the original on the Orca when…hang on, why are we discussing this when your hand could be in my shorts?” Billy grins.

“We can get back to that when you tell me why it’s such a big deal that the movie isn’t what you expected,” Billy says, nodding his head at the screen. “I mean, I was intending on blowing you no matter what we watched but it seems to bug you, so spill, Harrington.”

“It’s just…” Steve starts and then feels like the biggest loser of all time for getting upset over this night not going exactly perfectly. Because nothing about Billy, from the bulge in his jeans to the flush in his cheeks, suggests that this night isn’t already going pretty well.

“Just?” Billy prompts and Steve has to turn away from the intensity of his bright blue eyes. But he’s stuck in a car, in the middle of fucking nowhere and even if he wasn’t, it’s not like he can lie to Billy anyway.

“It’s just not romantic,” Steve says, with a shrug that doesn’t quite hit casual and sails all the way past it to tense and annoyed instead. “This isn’t really what I had in mind for tonight.” Billy’s mouth splits into a grin so delighted and wicked that Steve immediately wishes he could trade places with Chrissie.

“Harrington,” he says slowly, fingernails grazing the delicate skin of Steve’s lower belly, setting every inch of his skin on fire. Their first few dates were limited to making out and a very messy grinding session and Steve craves more like it’s air. He’s spent the past six months thinking of Billy in every shower, every quiet moment in the dark. “Were you actually trying to seduce me?”

“No,” Steve says, defensively. Billy slides his warm hand back up Steve’s bare thigh and Steve sighs, the sound unwilling pulled out of him. “Alright, maybe,” Steve begrudgingly admits.

Billy startles him by pulling him into a kiss, one very unlike the kisses they’d shared only minutes before. This is deep and sweet, Billy moving his hand to curl around the back of Steve’s neck.

“I don’t need wining and dining, Stevie,” Billy says, once they’ve pulled apart. His voice and eyes are oddly gentle, completely unlike the cocksure Billy from their first three dates. The same Billy that Steve knows from the cafe - the one who flirts with everyone, the one who smells like rich coffee and leftover cigarette smoke, and serves lattes in between jam sessions and college work. “I like you, okay? That’s it.”

“I know,” Steve says, resting his hand on top of Billy’s. It’s a little hard to do as Billy’s fingers are mostly under his shorts - inching closer to right where Steve wants them - but he makes do. “But I want to. Because I like you too.”

The car falls silent as they stare at each other and Steve can see Billy’s mouth purse, as though he’s just realized something.

“Is this us going exclusive?” Billy asks, and any fear that he’s about to be dumped is swiftly negated by Billy moving his hand to slide his fingers into Steve’s.

“I think so,” Steve says, because it’s not really a milestone he’s exactly hit before. He and Nancy never really had a talk their senior year, they just fell right into being in love. Or so he’d thought anyway.

“Huh,” Billy murmurs, watching the way their fingers look wrapped around each other. “That’s new for me.”

“Me too,” Steve says, heart in his throat. He’s still not sure whether he’s going to be okay from here on out, or if he still wants to trade places with the corpse that Chief Brody is currently investigating on a beach. “But I like you a lot.”

“Good,” Billy says roughly, and pulls Steve into another kiss. The movie passes and Steve doesn’t notice.

“We’re missing the movie,” Billy says finally, and the waver in his voice could be put down to breathlessness or where Steve’s hand is currently located. “You think we’d be okay to just go?”

Steve touches the curl hanging by Billy’s ear. Maybe this night will go how he wants to after all.

“I have this on DVD?” he suggests, with a grin, reaching for the keys.

***

Coda

“You were right,” Billy says, lazily running his fingers up and down Steve’s bare back. “That was definitely roaring.”

“Told you,” Steve says sleepily, every inch of him a long, pleasurable ache. There’s bite marks on his ass, fingernail marks around his lower waist and a wet smear of sweat and lube on his inner thighs. But he’s sprawled across Billy’s chest, watching Billy suck salt off his fingers as Brody and Hooper swim to shore. He thinks he’s never been happier.

“You’ve ruined this movie for me, I’ll have you know,” Billy tells him, pinching the skin at Steve’s hips. Steve jabs his fingers into Billy’s ribs in response.

“Your head was facing away from the screen for most of it,” Steve smugly reminds him. The DVD had gone in shortly after round one and they’d been too preoccupied with round two to watch most of it until the end. Billy rolls his eyes and lifts the pizza box off the bed. He easily flips Steve over and climbs over him, straddling Steve’s hips. There’s evidence of Steve all over him: every bruise, the dark marks on his neck, the sticky smears on his belly, and Steve feels a low prickle of satisfaction.

“When will your roommate get back?” Billy asks, his eyes turning dark. Steve groans as Billy lightly grinds down. He doesn’t think that they’ll get round to sticking on the next film.

“Not until tomorrow,” Steve promises and then tries to hang on for the ride.

#harringrove #harringroveweek #harringrove week #harringrove week 2022 #Billy Hargrove #steve harrington #modern au #barista billy #I've never seen sixteen candles #so I improvised

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