#redrawing that shit as soon as possible
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the art i did today. thought making blaze’s legs shorted would make it better as a whole, but now she looks like a midget 😞
#redrawing that shit as soon as possible#i should probably draw some sonaze soon lol#expect a christmas drawing and a full body sally by the end of the year#hopefully i can do that last 1#sonic the hedgehog#sth fanart#sonic fanart#art#sonic#me art#fanart#sketch#blaze the cat#black people#artists on tumblr
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#ack …… it’s way too obvious that i felt like drawing this piece was a chore ………..#hhhnghgh not much i could do about it now bc i dont have much time left to finish it o(~<#solar-talks#kinda disappointed bc i really wanted to do this and i like my idea a lot .. i guess it’s just hard for me to actually draw something when#i Have to draw something yk#its just frustrating that i Know what’s wrong and i Know how to fix it but i can’t start back from scratch bc again it’s . due soon#urrrghgh.. welp ! it’s fine ! i’m glad i joined and did this in the first place !#it may be ugly right now but it won’t when i try redrawing it at some point 💥💥💥💥💥#and i wanna finish this piece as soon as possible so i could finally draw other shit#postepilogue yhk transgenderisms im coming for u …………….
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okay so it's been a bit... sorry about that??? ^-^; here's a quick doodle dump to make up for it with a brief (for me) explanation of where i've been at the end <3
some things that were meant as ask responses but i never felt like posting
scattered bits from a lore headcanon comic i have no plans of finishing... set when jax first joined and ragatha was still new, before shit happens (queenie abstracts) and things got worse for them...
idk i like thinking about the possibilities and i like it when characters start out hopeful and get it beaten out of them so i'm giving jax and ragatha that treatment in my head :)
here's the "behind the scenes" stuff i mentioned in the second of my raggedy ann tadc crossover posts
and here's me giving pomni varying levels of a hard time
old aggie board stuff
one of my first ragatha and pomni drawings on the left (nov 2023) and a lil redraw on the right.... (mar 2024) pls... don't mind my old ragatha design i didn't know what i was doing
and for those who like my sona, doodles inspired by the mafia roleplay/au(?) that's been around... not actually part of it, but i was part of a mafia roleplay myself back in 2020 so idk, consider it an acknowledgement of my roots :D
OKAY so where i've been... well at first it was a normal break, but then i figured i'd extend it until finals were over so i wouldn't get distracted! probably should've given some warning but ehhh i got busy fast and getting to go off grid for a bit was relaxing :)
anyway i'm all done so i'm back more or less??? still fatigued from studying for weeks straight so idk when i'll pick up the pen again but that'll be soon i hope...
and bc i drafted this before it was posted YES i've seen the episode 2 trailer!!! very cool i'm very excited!! gonna try and get ep 2 hype art out before it drops!! :D
#missed you silly people in my computer i hope you are well :)#the amazing digital circus#tadc#pomni#jax#queenie#kinger#ragatha#sona art#my art#chompni
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(tw: scissors, needles)
Pov: you get your friendship bracelet from Moon cut off :( (no literally that's the plot I'm not even joking)
Reblogs greatly appreciated!
Not his official outfit! I've since then made an actual design I like for him and will post that once I finish Moon's :> BUT I liked this pic and didn't feel like redrawing so gonna just have to deal
Details abt this one bc I feel like oversharing and have nothing better to do
. Y/n is a socially anxious nighttime security guard. They have no friends + are mega depressed + self-conscious and hide their face behind a pair of sunglasses even at night + chubby bc I SAY SO. Started a fic with them a long while ago but deleted it cause depression, they liiiiive
. Sun has access to a sewing machine (terrible idea on staff's part btw) in the crafting room and is obsessed with sewing costumes, needles, sewing scissors, that kinda thing bc of course he is. His outfit has degraded over the years so he tries to put it back together with random scraps of red fabric. He has a bunch of needles on his lil waist thing for easy access
. The daycare is actually shut down and has been for a long time, but y/n doesn't know that since they only see it at night. Sun has gone stir crazy without kids to take care of and spends his day making costumes and other crafts, preparing for children to arrive... even though they never will.
. Moon is dormant most of the time bc Sun keeps the lights whenever possible; he's very passive and sweet, and will tell bedtime stories to plushies as a way to cope with the loneliness. He's kind of aware Sun's gone batshit but can't really be bothered to do anything about it, at least not till he gets to know y/n better
I'm not sure if they're separate animatronics and Moon just goes offline when the lights are off cause like I'm prolly gonna give him a different outfit so
. Basic story idea:
Y/n is doing one of their night shifts and gets a noise notification coming from the daycare. Since they never got the memo about it being closed down, they assume there's a break in and goes to check it out.
Sun is nervous as shit when the two encounter each other, way out of practice with socializing, but quickly warms up and decides he must become their best friend at any cost. Y/n on the other hand is awkward as hell and doesn't know how to act around him.
Sun makes as many efforts to lure them into the daycare as possible, and slowly becomes more and more obsessive, going so far as to hack into the webcam of their laptop, the security cams to see what they can see, watching them at the start and ends of shifts to make sure they don't interact with anyone else
Just as y/n begrudgingly starts to warm up to him, the power goes out and they meet Moon for the first time. They have this rlly wholesome plushie bedtime story scene but Moon soon lets slip about the daycare being closed-
Y/n starts to realize some shit is going on and confronts Sun about it but at this point he's way too cheery around them and is always dancing around them and showing them his latest sewing creations... so instead they begin turning off the lights manually every night at set times, telling Sun it's for "routine maintenance" or something but really it's to get more info out of Moon
Perhaps Moon starts to become a lil protective of them too~ They are after all a lot better of a listener than any plushie...
At this point they're both fiercely protective/possessive of y/n and don't want them being friends with anyone else. Cue jealousy and the two fighting for their attention~
At some point or another Moon makes them a friendship bracelet since he knows that'll get to Sun since he likes them so much, and also to mark Y/n as his
Sun finds it the next day, grabs a pair of sewing scissors and cuts it off in his first display of outright anger
Beyond that?? No clue 🥲
I feel compelled to refer to this ver of him as Pincushion...
#inverted au#Metaltea rambles#yandere#tw yandere#tw scissors#tw needles#scissors#needles#just to be safe
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Hello guildmates!
The Nomination Period is now closed! Below the cut you will find a complete list of all the fanart nominations received for The Guild Awards this term! The mobile-friendly version can also be found in a Google Doc here that has the complete list!
You can find the list of all the fanfiction nominations here!
If you do not see your nomination, or you find issues with the links, please reach out to us as soon as possible!
We are going to give you 2 weeks time to enjoy all of the pieces nominated for this term! We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a comment to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!
The voting period will begin April 15th and end April 29th at midnight PST!
In order to be able to vote, you will need to login. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.
Got a question? Check out our FAQ Google Doc or send us an ask!
Message one of the mods directly: @classysassy9791 @phoenix-before-the-flame @kiliinstinct @ratretro @phoneboxfairy
Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this term absolutely wonderful and happy voting!
[please reblog to help spread the love of these amazing creators!]
FANART
Best Action/Adventure
“Jacked Erza” by @pkuinn (tumblr)
“Dragon / Goddess Irene” by @eepintothewoods (tumblr)
“Super Late But Happy Gruvia Day” by @hollie-artz (tumblr)
Best AU/AR
“Shiny Shiny Gold” by @fainttwinkling (tumblr)
“It’s Lisanna’s turn to be badass” by @pencilofawesomeness (tumblr)
‘Circus AU Lucy by @beanthespleen (tumblr)
“Just some late night Lucy star dress doodles” by @beanthespleen (tumblr)
“FarmLu” by @likubears (tumblr)
Best Canon
“Capricorn Star Dress” by @moxiepoxart (tumblr)
‘Dan Lucy, Your Bobbies’ by @boxonarock (tumblr)
‘Cuddling’ by @smappybubbles (tumblr)
“Like The Natsu I’ve Always Known” by @shiiro-arts (tumblr)
Best Angst
“I love them so much” by @shiiro-arts (tumblr)
‘Manga Redraw’ by @Azriaann (tumblr)
Best Dark
“Rogue on the Battlefield” by @celestialrayna (tumblr)
“He’s Fine. Don’t Worry About It” by @kitsunegender (tumblr)
“For All You Gajeel Thirsters” by @mavikiu (tumblr)
Best Humor/Parody
“they are too silly” by @heartonxions (tumblr)
‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ by @riveluart (tumblr)
“Them, Basically!” by @friedmeatbuns (tumblr)
“Shadowgear Lethal Company” by @firapolemos05 (tumblr)
FarmLu” by @likubears (tumblr)
“I Feel Like this Joke is So Them” by @acnologias-ass (tumblr)
Best Kiss
“Happy february to them” by @lav3nder-bees (tumblr)
“Punks and their short bf/gf (pic 3)” by @merryweathart (tumblr)
"A Bit Early But Merry Christmas Everyone!" by @hollie-artz (tumblr)
"Natsu's Kiss" by @disnimeartzy (tumblr)
Best Romance
“Sleepy afterschool lolu” by @l-owe-i (tumblr)
‘Untitled’ by @roseletterchan (tumblr)
“Untitled” by @bakutenshi (tumblr)
“This is how it should be” by @moxiepoxart (tumblr)
“Gruvia Week Day 3: Starlight” by @jmoart214 (tumblr)
Best LGBTQ+ Romance
“Untitled Fraxus Week Prompt” by @bluessom1 (tumblr)
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” by @nostalgiedromer (tumblr)
“My peppermint pookies” by @mousecracker (tumblr)
“Music!” by @itsfasterifyouroll (tumblr)
Best Character
“The Sun” by @moonylilies (tumblr)
“untitled color palette challenge (jellal)” by @acnologias-ass (tumblr)
“Lucy 🌻” by @melognut (tumblr)
“Levy bout to fuck shit up” by @phoenix-before-the-flame (tumblr)
“Erza for a friend :]” by @cassikitty (tumblr)
"Mira" by @imyourcoopid (tumblr)
Best Duo/Pairing
“Gajeel + juvia = besties” by @anniechuuu (tumblr)
“Natsu and Happy fanart” by @lostprinxe (tumblr)
Best Group Depiction
“It’s Nice to Have a Family” by @classysassy9791 (tumblr)
‘ Untitled’ by @watcher-ofthe-sky-art (tumblr)
“Levy and her boys” by @riveluart (tumblr)
“Dragon Fam Christmas Sweaters” by @pencilofawesomeness (tumblr)
Best Manga Coloring
“Fire & Lightning” by @fairy-edits (tumblr)
‘I Hyperfixated’ by @fairy-tail-trash (tumblr)
“Minerva Orland of the Sabertooth Guild” by @googler49 (tumblr)
“Congratulations 100 yr quest!” by @vaniliens (tumblr)
Best Redraw
“Screenshot Redraw of the Raijinshuu + Laxus” by @sheltered-uno (tumblr)
“manga redraw🫣” by @azriaann (tumblr)
“Gray and Wendy” by @heartonxions (tumblr)
“Some Manga Redraws (thunder legion)” by @zai-doodles (tumblr)
“Falling with the Stars ✨💫” by @limboistic (tumblr)
"Loke and Gray" by @konohamaru-sensei (tumblr)
"Team Natsu 🔥🗝️⚔️❄️💨😸😾" by @c-art-y (tumblr)
Best Overall
“Levy all Soft and Glowy” by @mavikiu (tumblr)
“Punk Boyy” by @heneryque (tumblr)
‘Erza Scarlet Art Nouveau’ by @Syenneart (tumblr)
“Erza for a friend :]” by @cassikitty (tumblr)
"Juvia Lockser" by @imyourcoopid (tumblr)
"Edolas Lucy Loml" by @robin-vb (tumblr)
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2023 WIP Art Wrapup
I couldn’t fit all of these so I made them into collages, hope you don’t mind
1. A gore piece of Ego during the Alduin fight, with Dragon Aspect
2. Wounded Rakell and protective Velehk
3. Sanguine lighting WIP
4. Dagon being grabby with Ego’s arm
1. Paarthurnax teaching Ego
2. The full sheet from the one post with Sam x Ego shenaningans
3. A scrapped concept of Dagon’s Prince of Hope design
1. Dagon x Ego big hands stuff (also a very early draft of something I went to redraw and finish!)
2. Akatosh concept and defo nothing else :]
1. Sanguine x Dagon
2. Rakell getting the shit beat out of him by Kyrahk
3. Ego and Sam in their pirate wear
4. Shadowmere, Mory, Brenna, and Veezara
1. Sanguine carrying Ego away from a fight
2. Dagon giving a thumbs-up
3. Sanguine dancing
4. Oz, another alter ego (in the same way that TES Ego is a branch of an alter ego), this time for Bloodborne’s universe!
1. Caspian losing his eye to a firework
2. Cicero
3. Sanguine looking very mischievous
4. Nervous Ego x Sanguine
And an animation base for Caspian losing his eye :]
There is a very grand possibility that I finish none of these, but it’s not impossible that I finish a few! However, it’s more likely that I simply take these concepts and remake them entirely
See you soon with an art wrapup!
#2023 wip art wrapup#wip art wrapup#wipes#wip#my art#here we go tagging everyone again just in case I need to find some bastards later#ego#Rakell#velehk#sanguine#Mehrunes Dagon#Paarthurnax#sam guevenne#martin the marten#Akatosh#kyrahk#shadowmere#Mory#Brenna#Veezara#Oz#caspian#Cicero
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The Nomination Period for the 3rd Term 2023 Inuyasha Fandom Awards is now CLOSED!!
Hey everyone!
Below the cut you'll find a complete list of all of the Fanart nominations received for this term! You can also find it on Google Docs.
Click here for the complete list of Fanfiction nominations.
Thank you to everyone who participated in this term for taking the time to do so. We hope you enjoyed your experience! If you do not see your nomination, please reach out to us as soon as possible!
We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a review to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!
As a reminder, we are giving 3 weeks time to enjoy all of the creations. The voting period will begin October 6th and end October 20th.
In order to be able to vote, you'll need to register so we can keep it all neat and clear. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.
Got a question? Check out our FAQ or send us an ask. You can also message one of the mods directly!
Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this 2nd Term absolutely wonderful, and happy voting!
Best Action/Adventure
“Running with the wolves” by @ashenkite
“⚔sɪʙʟɪɴɢ ʀɪᴠᴀʟʀʏ⚔” by @pachworldx-1
“Jewel of the Seven Seas” by @stardust414
Best AU/AR
“Always” by @kalcia
“Orgullo & Prejuicio” by @m2moon94
Best Canon Universe
“the dumb shit dad told u not to do” by @stillunderyourbed
“Wisteria” by @razdazberry
“Mega oof” by @devilatelier
Best Angst
“For someone you loved” by @mama-ino
“Rain” by @elevenharbor
“Final Conquest” by @ashleys-canvas
Best Dark
“INUYASHA 📿” by @masonkaye
Best Humor/Parody
“He’s talking shit” by @cherisenae
“Battle Couple” by @clearwillow
“Fuck You Sesshomaru” by @devilatelier
“Sesshoumaru as Drake Meme” by @ridiqlumdrum
“Mega oof” by @devilatelier
Best Kiss
“They are SO cute” by @brain-rot-hour
“Wisteria” by @razdazberry
“Dibujo-que-hice-con-referencias-que-vi-del-sesskag” by @inumysuzue
“Human Kissing” by @spiralofdragon
“Final Conquest” by @eliza-faust-diary
Best Character
“𓆩✧𓆪 Midoriko 𓆩✧𓆪” by @inusmasha
“Untitled” by @dazzelmethat
“Moonlit Kagome” by @theundeadfandom
“half-demon Inuyasha 🔮” by jyundeeARTs (X, formerly known as Twitter)
“Kagome Higurashi, the girl who overcame time” by @dulcealuf
“Sesshomaru🌸” by @zeldacw
Best Duo/Pairing
“It’s been a while 💛❤️🧡” by @geda-art
“Inuyasha and Sesshomaru” by @momosartgarden
“girl crush girl crush” by @moonnue
“Final Conquest” by @ashleys-canvas
“Shopping Trip!!” by @skyguyy
Best Doujinshi
“Hanyohime” by @hanyohime-comic
“Make a Wish” by @len-barboza
“From Something Old to Something New” by @clearwillow
“Mother-in-Law” by @daikiidokii
Best Redraw
“🌷 Kikyo 🌷” by @midiatamente
“Redraw manga” by Lucky_chandl (X, formerly known as Twitter)
“Redibujo del primer encuentro” by @m2moon94
“Swimsuit Kag” by @julytheartist
Best NSFW
“Keep Me Warm” by @mamabearcatfanart
“Blindfolded” by @julytheartist
“Not a shampoo bottle” by @weeeting
“she’s beauty and she’s grace” by @katerinu
Best InuKag Romance
“inukag happy summer sunset beach vibes 😎” by @justafewsmallsteps
“Welcome Home” by @katballesteros
“♥︎𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕♥︎” by HulloYokai (X, formerly known as Twitter)
Best SessKag Romance
“Drag Me Down” by @momorhea
“Locked Away” by @razdazberry
“Día de Lluvia” by @valgreys
“First Comes Marriage” by @rannyunny
Best Romance
“Aftermath” by @eliza-faust-diary
“Untitled” by @generalmoony
Best Group Depiction
“Pink Bellflower” by @tmetta
“SessKag (+ kids) go to the most magical place on earth” by @elevenharbor
Best Traditional
“Kinda proud of this one 😁” by @tarkovskyshoe
“桔梗” by @toutousai
“Tiny Paintbrush” by @mama-ino
“Cuddles from a demon cat” by @the-lone-huntress
Best Overall
“Kikyo” by @geirahood
“Locked Away” by @razdazberry
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Whatever this conversation is about, I don’t think they’re happy.
Redraw of this.
#henry stickmin TT#None of them want to be there right now and they're dealing with it very differently#Charles is going to have a mental breakdown someone help him#Ellie is trying to be small and possibly keep herself from punching someone#Henry is just done tbh same shit daily#A redraw kick y'all gonna be sick of me soon
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It all came crashing down. Edward slowly peered out to look up at the stars. The ones that had only just started to fade to the whims of daylight and the ground might as well have opened up to swallow him.
They were crooked. Edward couldn’t find a single constellation, not a planet or galaxy among the sky. It was all misaligned. Distorted and wrong.
INSTANTLY fell in love with @liathgray‘s new fic capra. instantly. before the first chapter was released i was already in love, then i began redrawing a scene as soon as physically possible and it ended up taking way too long because i have no self-restraint. anyway this is inaccurate in about 500 different ways and i Know this and i’m Sorry, but hopefully i captured the feeling of the scene somewhat because goddamn, that shit hit me like a freight train
basically.. guys do urselves a favor and read all cece’s work. you won’t regret it
#art#fanart#fma#edward elric#digital art#I REDREW THAT FACE. 300 TIMES AND IT STILL DOESN'T CAPTURE THE EMOTION this is why writing is a superior medium#ok but for real never again will i draw a phone booth. never. the trees and the face and the lighting were so fun but if i even so much as..#..look at a phonebooth ever again in my life i'm going to cry#anyway.. the time of day's wrong and the hand is wrong and the phonebooth is wrong and also the hair and expression and DEF the clothes#but fuck it I MADE SOMETHING FOR CAPRA :D
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KAITO HAS OCD
Okay, a breakdown of OCD behaviors let’s go:
COMPULSIVE BEHAVIOR
He immediately fixates on finding pandora+getting vengeance, cannot be convinced to do anything else to get to this goal except be Kaitou Kid as soon as he decides that’s the path he’ll take. He’s already got his plan, he’s NOT gonna deviate from it.
And he goes after gems that he already knows aren’t Pandora because he’s compelled to complete Kaitou Kid’s MO/rise to challenges.
(from DC ch.965, I pasted the panels together for the relevant bits)
He also goes after targets when OTHER people send notices. (see: chapters 11 and 14 of Magic Kaito.) Yeah he wasn’t the one who started it, but he WILL finish it.
There’s absolutely no rule that says he has to go through with every single heist notice that he or someone else sends! It’s just his own compulsion.
OVER-PLANNING: BACKUP PLANS OF BACKUP PLANS
OCD makes you doubt yourself: what you do, your surroundings, so you have to over-plan to make sure everything goes Just Right, or else there will be consequences. And with heists, there really will be! But assuming he’s got OCD then he feels like *everything* he does has consequences if it doesn’t go the way he planned.
So he’s over-prepared always!
Even when going to school, have you seen all the tricks he keeps up his sleeves just for casual pranks with his classmates? He’s always *always* ready to toss confetti everywhere! To disappear with a smoke bomb! To put a mask of his own face on a classmate to get away! He just carries these things around In Case he needs it!
He just has an entire magic arsenal with him at all times for no good reason, school and other mundane situations.
WAY MORE EXAMPLES AND ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT:
So here’s some over-preparedness on heists:
(DC ch.1019)
He’s got calling cards made ahead of time to go along with whatever plan he ends up using-- and even though they say he “spontaneously” decided to act, having all those cards there means he DID have every single plan laid out for whichever he decided to do. He figured out which plan he needed to do, and acted accordingly.
(DC ch.963)
This is the one that really gets me. He brought enough disguises to be able to pick someone AT RANDOM to disguise as, and then he has an entire heist planned around the person he picked on a whim.
You could say he just improvises, but a lot of what Kaito does *has* to be planned out in advance. Yes he can knock someone out and steal their clothes for an impromptu disguise, but he still needs masks prepared-- and for disguising as Agasa which he does in this chapter, that’s a whole costume to get the body shape right! He just HAD THAT PREPARED. JUST IN CASE.
(MK ch.23)
Kaito for the love of God what on earth would you ever need to memorize this man’s driver’s license number for. This is a new level of over-prepared. Kaito how did you even memorize that number along with all the other nonsense you need to remember for heists and disguises.
And in the manga we see several times that when his plans go awry, his first reaction isn’t usually to improvise a new plan, but rather to yeet as fast as possible because his brain can’t deal with a plan being ruined. (like above)
AND OKAY MEMORIZING ALL THOSE NUMBERS ACTUALLY BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT:
COUNTING
The above example isn’t technically counting, but it does lend to an obsession with numbers and being hardwired to just have them in the back of his mind without thinking about it.
Alternately, he may have just glanced at the drivers license while handing it over and memorized it on the spot! Counting it without even thinking about it! (Either way, holy shit.)
He can also quickly and accurately count how many people and objects are in a room-- or you know an entire building-- in a matter of seconds. And he remembers all of it!
(MK ch.28)
Okay I think that’s all of the canon examples I’ve got on hand?
So with all that, some OCD headcanons about the boy:
-He over-plans even in mundane situations like deciding what kind of ice cream to get at the store. He’s gotta think about what if his favorite and second favorite and third favorite flavors are out of stock, and how much each brand costs, and if he’s willing to go to another store to get his favorite flavor if they don’t have it, and how long it will take to go to another store and the different prices there-- he over-plans for everything *just in case*.
-He obsessively re-checks and over-checks plans. Gotta make sure everything is right for heists.
-Counts things repeatedly/on a loop when left alone with his thoughts, and often taps along with his counting which outwardly looks like fidgeting or boredom. (I also headcanon that he has ADHD as well, so the tapping looks like a stimmy adhd thing)
-Pretty bad anxiety about messing up/consequences/break in routine, but hey live and die by the poker face, so no one knows it.
-He’s got rituals/routines to calm himself down that he doesn’t even realize are rituals: mindlessly shuffling or counting cards; tracing the scars/creases/etc on his hands, tapping/counting. (more things that just look like stimming basically)
-He also has a rewriting/redrawing habit. Mostly with his Kaitou Kid doodle, but he’ll do it with words too. His school notes have a lot of repetition because sometimes a word feels wrong so he’ll just rewrite it (sometimes several times) before he moves on with the rest of his notes.
-He plans his entire days ahead of time with a list in his head down to really stupid details.
-Yes this includes branching possibilities for different things that might happen that day. Backup plans of backup plans!
-On days where he’s feeling bad or can’t get his thoughts in order, he’ll take the list to paper so he can double check it as the day goes on. He always feels better if he has a plan he can check back on, mental or physical.
-Most importantly, he has absolutely no idea he’s got OCD. He assumes all of this is just normal behavior for an entertainer and a thief. Of course he pays attention to how many people are in a room and how it’s laid out, he’s in the habit of casing places. Of course he’s got 143 plans laid out for the day, it’s only practical that he knows what he’s gonna do. Of course he checks his heist plans two dozen times in the same night, he can’t afford to mess this up!
Anyway that’s all I’ve got for now love y’all byyye.
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Dude, there has been soooo much drama everywhere lately it seems like and it's always the same shit??? I'm looking to maybe to a thesis for my brain and cog sci & psyc degree about these "collective identity" argument and the black-and-white thinking that pairs with the us-vs-them mentality. Of course I'm doing (and have been doing) actual research, but got any thots to throw my way?
(I saw that post about whatever their username was. Started with a d, may have been derranged-something or delirious-something (how fitting lmao) or whatever, and thought it would take in nicely with what I'm working on)
man, I have no idea. it’s such a broad subject, but it is something I’ve been noticing for a while. I think way back in 2012/2013 even, I was looking at this webbed site and thinking to myself that a lot of people on here would be the sort of people likely to end up in a cult.
I think, in its most simplistic form, black and white thinking is absolutely imperative to an us vs them mentality, because when you organise like that you absolutely need to put things in boxes. what makes us Us, and them Them? there has to be a kind of guideline, I suppose; an easy way to run through a checklist and find out what “side” somebody is on as quickly as possible. obviously this is a very complicated thing to do, as the human experience is vastly nuanced and impossible to describe from person to person, even regarding the same exact subject or identity or experience. so what a person has to do, in order to achieve the impossible, is grow stricter and stricter with the parameters. this quickly results in black and white thinking -- if something is this, it’s that, and if something is that, then it also has to be this. from there, it’s just a slippery slope.
of course, a lot of people slip into this through purely innocent reasons. it’s human nature to want to belong. we’re a social species. we instinctively seek out similarities, and it’s fun when you see something highly relatable and assign it to an existing part of yourself. it’s validation. to a certain extent, this is normal bonding behaviour. however, it definitely has a dark side, and it’s very evident on this website and over on Twitter. I’ve spoken before about the posts on here that’s like “gay culture is [highly specific thing]” or “only people who are [identity] do [thing]”, and how while they seem jokey at first and many are posted in good humour, the overall attitude they encourage is harmful. not only does it encourage black and white thinking, it also makes people who don’t relate feel excluded from groups they belong to, and it can also foster an us vs them mentality within the groups themselves. when you add in all the other, more insidious lines being drawn, it certainly encourages the right kind of mindframe for people to end up getting really lost in the sauce.
basically, at its root, I think it’s a form of protection. in a lot of high-drama situations, these people think they’re championing a good cause. for some reason, a lot of people seem to believe that in order to champion a good cause, you have to be Pure and Perfect yourself, and if you’re not, that somehow invalidates the cause you support. naturally, absolutely nobody is free of sin, or of making mistakes, or of having occasional bad judgement, but in the current political climate an innocent mistake or an edgy joke made when you were 14 is enough to get you, a grown adult who has matured and moved on and is barely recognisable to who you were then, thrown out of your social group for crimes against humanity. every single person -- every single one of us -- has multiple things in our past that could cause this reaction, and a lot of these people are living in fear of it being exposed and essentially ruining their life (or at least a sizeable chunk of it). so what do you do, when faced with something like that? you keep moving the goalposts. you keep redrawing the lines. you water things down to their bare essentials. if you do this you’re bad but if you do that you’re good, and I do that so I am good. if you’re in this group you’re bad but if you’re in that group you’re good, and I am in that group so I am good. if you like villains you’re evil and if you hate villains you’re good, so I am going to make posts about how much villains suck just so everyone knows I do not support genocide. the lines get crazier and crazier, and before you know it the situation is so far past anything that’s rational to apply to human behaviour at all that there’s no point arguing. it becomes performative and empty. everyone’s blogs are posting the right things, but you know what’s going down in their Discord server.
so, in conclusion? the more people strive to appear perfect, the more inevitable it is that they’ll be exposed. nobody is perfect, everyone has secrets, and as soon as one is discovered the rest of the social group will self-cannibalise in order to expel the problem and divert attention from themselves. then they will be safe, until the next slip-up. rinse repeat. it could all be avoided very easily, but I think we can all agree that that horse bolted years ago.
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Ya’ll know how in the beginning of season 3, Tim’s just all mad/stressed mumbling and a lot of “I need to lie down”? Well, here’s some soft Tim and Martin bros because Tim is making me sad.
“What’s the deal with that Tim guy anyway?”
Brows furrowed, Martin peeks over a file he’s got held up close to his eyes as if the closer to his pupils, the easier he will understand the jumbled follow-up research. “Sorry. What do you mean?” He winces when Melane sighs loudly acrorss from him, her own hands tightening around the tape recorder she snagged from Martin’s desk.
“I mean all he does is mumble under his breath, snap at people, and then he sulks off to the cot.”
Melanie’s aggravation, Martin thinks, is understandably warranted, valid, and he carefully sets the file down before him, a muted huff of breath slipping past his lips. “Look, Melanie, a lot’s happened, and everyone’s working under a lot of stress right now. With Jon-”
“-missing, possibly wanted for murder-”
“-he didn’t muder anyone!” Martin doesn’t realize he’s slammed his hands against his desk until the burning sting begins to coat his palms. He swallows against the bubbling frustration creeping up his throat, his face a red mixture of embarassment and anger. “Sorry,” he sputters smally. “Everything’s just a lot.” His voice falls to a whisper, and Melanie’s posture eases up.
“I may not fully understand what you all have gone through, but until Jon’s back, there’s a lot of work that apparently needs to get done. And, Tim-”
“-I’ll talk to him.” Martin slips to his feet, smoothing his hands down his shirt because he’s not sure what else to do with them, not with Melanie staring down at him with an expression he can’t quite pick apart.
“Is he-”
“-sleeping on the cot for the fourth time this week? Yep.” Melanie answers, popping the ‘p.’ She stalks off, offering a single nod toward Martin, before closing the door of her office, and Martin waits until he can hear her recording before he leaves to find Tim.
The door’s closed when he arrives, and he offers two courtsey knocks, eyes rolling at the gravely “go away” that comes from the other side.
“Tim,” he calls out softly as he nudges the door open. “It’s Martin.”
“Okay,” Tim drags out lowly. “Go away, Martin.”
Martin slips into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He can’t keep the frown the pulls tightly at his lips when he spots Tim lying flat on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. Though obscured, he can still make out how pale Tim’s face is, the few worm scars that are visible standing out a stark gray against washed out skin.
“Are you okay?”
The sigh that slips past Tim’s clenched teeth is loud and long, as if he’s expelling a year’s worth of swollen stress that’s been pressed against his lungs. “You’re still here.”
“Well, yeah,” Martin stutters lightly, fingers pulling against the sleeves of his sweater. “I’m worried about you, Tim.”
“Oh, save it.” Tim drags out, voice weak but edging a dangerous line. He lifts his arm and heaves himself into a sitting position, throwing his legs over the side until they hit the floor, and he glares hard when Martin gasps loudly across from him.
“Tim, you look terrible!” Tim’s face, now fully visble, looks sunken in, his cheeks almost as hollow as his eyes. Beads of sweat line his temples, and his hair, normally styled neatly, is lying flat, a few strands sticking to his forehead. The dark circles painted under his eyes appear almost black against his ghostly white skin, and for a moment, Martin considers how many times he’s seen Jon like this, and he silently curses this place for draining people of what little energy they can muster as soon as they walk into this damned building.
“What do you want, Martin? It’s Melanie’s turn to record.”
“I came to check on you,” Martin answers as if it’s the most prominetly obvious statement in the world. “You’ve been coming in here to rest a lot. I just wanted to see if you were alright.”
“Am I alright?” Tim laughs, weak, bitter. “Do I look alright to you, Martin? I haven’t slept since...” His voice falters, the stained image of the body on the archives floor redrawing itself once more in his mind. “Not to mention all of the absolutely insane supernatural shit that happened that I’m still not sure was real or not.” He rakes his fingers roughly through his hair, grimacing at the hot, damp sweat clinging to each strand. “And Sasha-” his voice cracks, and Martin’s quick to take a seat beside him, offering a warm, steady hand to his shoulder.
Tim hunches forward away from Martin’s hand, elbows dropping to his knees and face falling into his cupped hands. “I just don’t know how much more I can take of this, and yet, I feel overwhelmingly nauseous when I even consider quitting.”
Martin drops his hand to his lap, and his eyes cast to the floor. He understands completely how Tim feels, and because of this, he can’t concoct a single sentence that would even remotely touch the pain that’s been brewing within Tim since Jon’s disappeared, leaving behind a dead body in his office.
“What can I do?” He asks instead, knowing that, more than ever, he and Tim need to stick together, to lean on each other while they struggle to wrap their minds around what’s real and what’s not.
Tim sits up with another, long sigh, and he turns toward Martin, exhaustion pulling so evidently at his face. On instinct, Martin reaches out and gently brushes the back of his hand to Tim’s cheek, not surprised at the damp heat.��
“I really just need some time away. I need to sleep. I can’t keep... thinking about this place.”
“I’ll tell Elias you’re ill,” Martin says, pulling his hand away. “You’re feverish, and you look like you could faint any second now, so it wouldn’t be a lie in the slightest.”
“What about you?” Though feeling poorly himself, Tim can’t ignore the stress lines etched in Martin’s face, or the numerous times he’s caught Martin sighing almost longingly at the archives door. “You’ll drive yourself into ground.”
“I’m okay,” Martin smiles, small, but genuine, and the look that colors his eyes is bright, determined. “I don’t know what happened that day, but I know that Jon didn’t murder that man, and while I don’t know where he is, I’m going to do what I can here to help, even if that just means picking up the slack until he comes back.”
“You’re unbeliaveble.” Tim slips to his feet with a small shake of the head, his mind immediately pulling in all directions, wavering his vision, and he brings a hand to his head just as Martin jumps to his feet and plants a steady hand to his back.
“Easy, Tim. Should I phone for help?”
“No, just...” Tim groans, his jaw clenched tightly, “give me a moment.” He breathes through his swimming vision, willing his heart, that’s thumping so loudly in his ears, to settle, and after an endless moment where’s he’s not entirely sure he won’t wake up on the floor, the pain in his head eases to a dull drum along his temples.
“Will you tell Elias that I’ll be back in a few days?”
“I’ll tell him you’re running a fever and will be back when you’re well, even if that takes a week.” Martin stands firm with his statement, and Tim smiles tiredly at him, dropping one hand to his shoulder and offering a weak squeeze.
“Thanks, Martin. And, sorry... for unloading all of this on you.” He waves his hand about weakly and starts out the door with Martin at his side.
“You know you can always talk to me, Tim.”
“I suppose I can,” Tim mutters softly. He starts toward his office to grab his things, stopping when Martin, who’s stayed back, calls out to him.
“I’ll swing by after work with dinner. Is soup okay?”
“Does it come with bedside poetry reading?”
For the first time in what feels like countless incredibly long, drawn out years, Tim laughs, warm and genuine, as Martin’s face flushes an imposibly deep red, and Martin starts sputtering, nervous, shocked.
“T-Tim! How did you... Did you find my tapes!?”
#tma#the magnus archives#sickfic#whump#whumpfic#tim stoker#martin blackwood#martim#my writing#my tma writing#tma s3#melanie king#jonathan sims#hurt/comfort
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This is going to be my feelings/opinions towards all of the main characters in Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc. This is directly related to my interpretation of events in the series! If you disagree with my thoughts/feelings that’s totally cool but this isn’t meant to be a debate!
A lot has been going on right now and I don’t have the energy to do much digital art right now, so I figured I’d just open up a little more about one of my favorite series! Maybe I’ll do my opinions on characters for the other games next.
** This post will contain information that will spoil the series for you, so continue at your own risk**
Makoto Naegi:
Honestly I really like Makoto. He is really average but honestly I think that’s what makes him so appealing. Not only that, but he comes off with a type of charisma that only “average” people can pull off. He has a base knowledge on a variety of subjects that allows him to talk to the other students. That and I find the concept of his “luck” very interesting. Also, side note, but that sprite of him focusing with his finger under his chin is probably one of my most favorite DR sprites ever. It’s just so cute! (I might redraw it someday hehe)
10/10
Aoi Asahina:
While I adore Hina, I really wish that they would have made her more than just a ditzy character who was obsessed with donuts in this game. I loved her energy though! Her interactions with everyone always made me smile. My appreciation for her character just increased exponentially after watching the Despair Arc of Danganronpa 3. All in all I’m super glad that her character survived in THH.
8/10
Byakuya Togami:
Honestly, I have mixed feelings about Byakuya. I think he’s a great antagonistic character, truly, but beyond that I’m not sure. I definitely think that his character is humbled throughout the course of the game, and in later games/animes he seems a lot less asshole-ish, but I’m not sure if I like him or hate him. I guess that just goes to show just how great he is as an antagonist. One thing I thought was hilarious though was how he casually admitted to being a true-crime nerd. I’m really glad he survived because I think his “talent” was really important for the Future Foundation.
6/10
Celestia Ludenberg:
Okay so real talk, I used to be a huge Celestia fan when I first stumbled across the series. But now, I don’t really like her character all that much. I think that out of all of the killers in THH her motive was the most shallow and that really is terrible considering how much potential she had. Her disconnect with her true identity could have made for an interesting character arc. And I really hate how they gave her literally the most complicated murder scheme when it would make sense for her to take a little risk as possible. Her character design is really cute though.
5/10
Chihiro Fujisaki:
I think Chihro’s death was one of the hardest for me in the game. I played through all of his freetime events and was super attached to him (I know, a horrible idea in a game like DR), and as soon as he died I was just in shock. One thing I love about how they portrayed his character was truly allowing the brilliance of Chihiro shine through even after his death. He created the AI that not only helped aid in their escape, but ultimately saved Makoto's life. I also really liked the juxtaposition of Chihiro and Mondo (the seemingly weaker one ultimately being stronger after all). All in all, Chihiro is a great character.
10/10
Hifumi Yamada:
I’m not really a fan of Hifumi, but I definitely think he gets wayy too much hate or just gets overlooked completely. I think that the creators leaned a bit too far into the stereotypes for him, and that made him come off as stiff and just… there. I knew from the very beginning that he wouldn’t survive, and honestly he’s the only character I had that feeling with (minus Leon). There are some quirks about him that I like, though, like how he never fails to refer to the others politely.
4/10
Kiyotaka Ishimaru:
So I originally found Taka annoying but after playing THH again he became one of my favorite characters. I find his enthusiasm adorable and his free time events boosted my admiration of him. He’s the only Ultimate that makes a conscious effort to prove himself and not rely on his prodigy-type status. And his relationship with Mondo, albeit short-lived, was so pure. It was so obvious to me that he was happy to have a friend (because Mondo is the first friend he’s ever had), and having that suddenly ripped away and listening to his desperation at the end of chapter 2 made me sob.
10/10
Kyoko Kirigiri:
Kiri’s background made me feel really sad for her. I first thought she was just the aloof, cold, smart type that was a bit snobbish. But then you realize that she’s been raised to not be in the spotlight, to work alone and without credit behind the scenes. Detective work is basically her birthright and she’s clung to that like a vice. Her character development throughout the game was really nice, and I think her and Makoto are super cute for each other. The side plot with her and her dad in DR3 made me really sad, too. I really liked overall that she was unapologetically holding true to her beliefs, even if it made her come off as cold. She was a solid, strong female character.
8/10
Leon Kuwata:
It was super obvious from the beginning that Leon was gonna die. There was 0 attachment to his character for me and he just came off as just...kinda there. I don’t really have much to say about him, other than that I’m not a fan.
1/10
Mondo Owada:
Mondo was such a big sweetheart in his freetime events. I thought his character was really well rounded and I was so sad that he ended up killing Chihiro. Despite that, I thought it worked really well for the story and played off of both of their weaknesses. Again I really loved his friendship with Taka, and having it formed and ended so quickly surprisingly hurt.
8/10
Sakura Oogami:
Honestly I didn’t like how they made her character the spy, because it seemed ridiculously out of character for her. Honestly I think this would be something better suited to Celeste, as she would view it as a way to increase her chances of living if she’s in “kahoots” with him. I dunno, I think the spy thing was unnecessary anyways. I loved her character though and her friendship with Hina was super cute. I also loved how they mentioned that she wanted to embrace her femininity while also not wanting to give up being the strongest person in the world.
7/10
Sayaka Maizono:
Honestly even though I’m not the biggest fan of Sayaka I really like the role she played at the beginning and I think they played it off perfectly. Her desperation fueled by the fear and harsh reality that comes along show business and easily being forgotten really works in the narrative. She seemed like a well-rounded character but I think that if she had lasted past chapter 1 I would have liked her less. All in all her character did a great job of kicking off everything.
6/10
Toko Fukawa:
I hate how they portrayed her character in THH, but her obsessive and odd behavior (outside of her split personality) is easily explained by her traumatic past. She obviously has a warped sense of what “love” is, and that plus her intense delusions turned into obsession for Byakuya. I started loving her character a lot more in UDG, when she started becoming more well rounded and open around Komaru.
Also, I loved Genocider Syo’s personality. While I obviously don’t condone serial murders, I think that her character is extremely interesting. She doesn’t try and condone her own actions, admitting there is no rhyme or reason. Plus I think it’s really interesting that she considers herself a “professional” and is incredibly particular about the details.
Overall 6/10 in THH
Yasuhiro Hagakure:
I feel like Hiro gets a lot of shit as a character because they think he doesn’t contribute anything. I think he adds a lot of much-needed comic relief. Also I think that everyone glosses over the fact that once Taka goes silent he actually tries to encourage him to speak up again. And then tries to do his part and keep everyone together and upbeat. I really think that Hiro is a fun character who deserves more love, even though I can’t say he’s one of my favorites.
7/10
Mukuro Ikusaba:
I wish Mukuro’s personality would have been able to actually show through in the game. The only glimpse we really see of it is in the bonus school mode while she is still posing as Junko. I wish in the anime they’d have harped less on her odd obsession with Junko and focused more on her internal struggle. I think her character has potential but I can’t say I was particularly attached to her (I suppose that was kind of the point, though).
4/10
Junko Enoshima:
Junko is probably one of the most well-written villains I have ever seen in a series. At first I thought it didn’t make sense, and was confused how one person could have so much influence on a mass amount of people. Then it was revealed in later installments that Ultimate Fashionista was not her real talent, just a cover she forged for herself to help her blend in to the school. Her real ultimate talent as the Ultimate Analyst allowed her to predict people’s actions and more importantly, their reactions. Her innate ability and incurable boredom made her seek out something unpredictable: despair and chaos. I think what made me love her as a villain was the line “You can’t argue with me, because there's no reason for anything that I do.”
As a villain I give her 15/10. If I were to rank her as a person? -11037/10
Overall Opinion:
I really find most of the characters charming but it’s super obvious when comparing this game to the others that these characters were not as fleshed out as characters in other games. I found it hard to be super attached to most of them and felt that some of their actions were really uncharacteristic. However I really do like the characters and what they add to the story, even if some of it doesn’t add up completely. I’m the least attached to these characters out of all of the characters in the DR series, although there are obviously some exceptions. I think there couldn’t have been a better opening cast of characters.
#bevvy talks#bevvy rambles#bevvy's opinions#danganronpa thh#danganronpa thh characters#danganronpa opinions
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Adjacent, Against, Upon
Steve Rogers/Tony Stark; Explicit; Politics AU (Steve is a candidate and Tony is his campaign manager); 10k+ words
also on ao3
*
The room was silent save for the sound of the news anchor recapping the videoclip they'd just played.
Imperceptibly, Tony's hand clenched into a fist. Natasha sighed and turned back to her laptop, scrolling through tweets mentioning Steve.
"They should be here soon," Bruce said quietly, looking up from his phone. "Next engagement is just the dinner with the veterans tonight."
"Okay," Tony said, his voice calm. His knuckles were white.
"—follow up on the profiles for tomorrow, I want to know who were meeting and what questions they'll be asking," Steve continued to say as he opened the door as Pepper trailed behind him.
"What the fuck was that?" Tony barked, turning to Steve.
Steve looked up from his phone. "What?" Pepper, too, had stopped in her tracks.
"What the fuck—" Tony gestured to the TV, "was that?"
"Tony," Steve said, his tone measured but eyes hard, "let's talk inside my office." Steve had crossed the room and his hand was at the door. "Come on," he beckoned.
Tony stared at him for a few seconds before walking out.
The team, at this point used to these outbursts, dutifully turned back to their respective laptops. Steve shut his eyes and breathed for a few seconds before entering his office and shutting the door.
After a beat, everyone crowded around Clint and Sam. “So what caused it?” Bruce asked. Clint shrugged, eyes never leaving his laptop as he sorted through photos.
“Come on,” Natasha said, reaching out and stilling Clint’s hand from clicking on his mouse.
“Some vet brought it up?” Clint said. “I mean, maybe that was it?”
“I don’t think we should be… you know. Be hypothesizing. Anyway. Steve might hear.” Sam said, eyeing Steve’s closed door. They could all see him through the slits in the blinds; he was pacing while reading one of the papers from on the pile on his desk. Silently, everyone willed him not to pull out his phone and check Twitter.
“The one time I don’t attend an event,” Natasha said, frustrated. Everyone avoided her eyes. “I’m going to talk to Tony,” Natasha said, getting up and heading to the door.
"Hey," Natasha said, as she stepped outside.
"Don't," Tony said, and raised a hand towards her. “Do not.” Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before he tossed his pack to Natasha.
"Media's not even trying to contact me about it," Natasha said after she lit her cigarette. “They’ve just been playing the clip on loop.”
“Figures,” Tony said, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Fuck this. Fuck it all to hell, and fuck him,” Tony said as he adjusted his tie. “What a fucking idiotbrained—” Tony stopped when he saw Nat looking up at him, expression calm.
“It’s not that bad,” she said.
“I’ll handle it. Doesn’t mean I don’t get to be pissed off about having to handle it.” Tony fiddled with his tie some more before deciding to take it off. “Also ensure that you never miss an event with media attendees.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Natasha voice had a sharp edge to it.
Tony stuffed his tie into his pocket as he stepped back inside the office and headed towards Steve’s room. Clint was helping Sam choose footage for editing, and Pepper and Bruce were looking through tweets on her laptop.
Tony took a steadying breath before pulling the door open.
Steve looked up from his stack of papers, eyebrow arched. “Hope you’re happy with that display,” he said.
“I could say the same to you.” Tony reached over Steve’s desk for a whiteboard marker and flicked the blinds to Steve’s office shut. “What were you thinking?” Tony didn’t look to see his reaction, instead redrawing a table on Steve’s windows from memory: Key message, supporting pillars. The red ink was bright against the background of the white blinds. “I mean you just. Just, totally, you know, fucked everything and—”
Behind him, Steve sighed. Tony startled as he felt Steve’s hand on his elbow, stopping his scribbling. “I told you from the start that I didn’t want to lie. About anything. And I knew back then that that would cause trouble — and that's what I hired you for, right?" There was a small quirk to Steve lips, and his eyes searched Tony for any form of acceptance.
Tony looked down at Steve's hand, which hadn't left his elbow. Steve, belatedly taking notice, pulled it away quickly.
"Look, Steve. Today was supposed to be easy," Tony said, the metal of the marker clicking against the glass. "We were just supposed to drill down your commitment to addressing the issue of homeless veterans. Everyone supports veterans. This should’ve been a slam dunk for you." Tony pulled down on his cuffs, one of his tells of when he was impatient. "Now... Now no one cares about that. Did you think of that before you answered that question?"
*
As usual, the media had swarmed around Steve as he left the venue — this time, a high school auditorium they'd rented out to house different stakeholders supporting Steve's advocacy for vets. After delivering his speech and answering some questions, the floor had been opened for the vets to share their own stories, for them to talk about their difficulties settling back into civilian life, and some stories of how the army had just fucked them over.
Bucky had led Steve out of the exit towards the waiting van, a hand held in front of them in vain attempt to keep media away from them.
“Mr. Rogers, can we get a statement? There’s a Twitter account that’s posted numerous photos—“
“No questions please,” Bucky said gruffly, angling his body to better box them out. Steve made eye contact with the reporter, a young man who’d been trailing the campaign and doing everything possible to try and get a scoop over everyone else. Either he’s just an overeager reporter, Tony had told him, or he’s a blogger — either way, steer clear and stick to your talking points.
“Mr. Rogers, is it you in the photo? Can we get a statement on your sexuality?” A phone was shoved in his face, and Steve’s cheeks went red with memory. It was from years ago, fresh out of college at someone’s party—
“Look buddy, I don’t see how that’s any of your business—” Bucky said, turning away from Steve and facing the journalist squarely.
“Isn’t it my business? Is it you, Steve? We deserve to know!” The reporter pressed, his body flush against Bucky’s, a phone trained at Steve’s face, recording his reactions. Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed, a scowl on his face. In a flash, he remembered the stories of the veterans who had been sent home without a dime just because of who they loved.
“Yes it is, Jonah, that’s me.” Steve said. Bucky turned to him, mouth open. Steve had stopped just a few paces from the car and squared his shoulders. The rest of the crowd had stopped with him, vibrating with anticipation for his next words.
“Yes, I’m gay,” he said. There was a beat, and the only sound came from Clint’s camera as he took a photo of the scene, then: The crowd erupted into questions, and Steve frowned for a second before he caught himself, then waved before stepping into the SUV.
“Holy fucking shit,” Steve heard Clint his to Sam as they settled into the back seat. And then, the voice was directed at him: “Holy fucking shit, Steve.”
“Shut up,” Bucky said from the driver’s seat, turning the wheel to pull out of the parking lot. “Everyone shut up.”
Steve was thankful for the silence, his body still wound tight with tension - what had come over him? He sucked in a large breath and looked outside. “What’s up next again, Pepper?”
Pepper turned to him from the passenger’s seat. “Sir, we’re just on the way back to the office. Tony’s likely going to want a debrief about this.”
“Of course,” Steve said. His gaze met Bucky’s in the rearview mirror before Steve closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool window, steeling himself for the conversation to come.
*
“This isn’t going to do your numbers any favors,” Tony said flatly, scrolling through reports on his phone.
Steve has the courtesy to act chastened as he looked at Tony from where he leaned on his desk. “Wouldn’t this work in our favor though? Make me, you know. Relatable or whatever?”
“Or whatever,” Tony said, doing air quotes and rolling his eyes. “We could’ve had both demographics on your side and now we’ll have one. I don’t see how that works in your favor.”
“Look, Tony, I’m not naive enough to think that my platform will convert the crazy homophobes, but there’s got to be—”
“Steve. It’s my job to figure out the demographics and your messaging and how to spin this right.” Tony doesn’t have to say that Steve’s made his team’s job much harder for it, doesn’t need to say it. “Maybe next time just… run your ideas by the team before you execute. If that’s possible.”
Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed, staring at the table Tony had drawn on his window in an effort to keep himself from staring at Tony, instead.
“Anyway,” Tony said with a jolt, “I’m going to discuss tomorrow’s itinerary with the team. Along with everything else.”
“I’ll join you,” Steve said, straightening up and walking towards the door. He rested his hand on the small of Tony’s back as he led him out of the room. “I should probably say something, right?”
“Like an apology?” Tony laughed, turning to Steve as he pushed the door open. “God forbid you begin that habit now.” Steve huffed, dropping his hand from Tony’s back as he walked away. His hand tingled at the loss of warmth.
“I just want to reassure them that this isn’t that big of a deal,” Steve said. “I mean, it shouldn’t be, not anymore.”
“What do—Oh, Steve, seriously, it’s fine. No one gives a fuck. We can just go straight to our next steps,” Tony said.
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his mouth. “Obviously it’s not fine, and everyone gives a fuck!” Steve snapped.
“You’re making as big a deal as the rest of them,” he said, quieter.
Tony furrowed his brow. “Of course I am. Now they’ve identified a—well. I wouldn’t call it a weakness, but it’s certainly something that’ll draw people away from your platform and policies. I meant—I meant the team is fine. None of us are judging you. Frankly I’m a bit insulted that you’d think they would.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth—”
“That’s what you pay me to do!”
Steve raised his hands, placating. “Sorry. Sorry. I just, I knew this was bound to happen eventually, and I was hoping to do it on my own terms. Certainly not in the parking lot of a high school.” Steve turned away and rubbed his temples. “There should be a bootcamp for this,” he added, smiling ruefully.
“Well, there isn’t. And the team’s fine. Maybe a bit shocked at how quickly you got triggered to just throw it out there, but we’re used to rolling with the punches.” Tony clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed, in a gesture meant to be comforting.
“Well. It’s what I pay you for, right?”
Steve’s small campaign team had assembled in their largest meeting room: The Pantry. The still-relatively small room as a snug fit for all of them, as they had crowded around the two square tables and pushed appliances around to make room.
Bruce had dutifully wheeled in a whiteboard for Tony to write on, and everyone had rearranged the seating to face the board. In the corner, Clint was shovelling ramen into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. There was one chair in the middle of them all that was saved for Steve.
“Hey,” Tony said, twirling a pen in his hands. Steve cleared his throat. “Okay, well—go do,” Tony said, motioning to the space the team had made in front of the whiteboard.
“Hi team,” Steve said, nodding at them. “Today was, in a word, unexpected. But I know we’ll be okay, I know I’ll be okay, because you’ve got my back. We’ve weathered worse before, and I know that a month from now, we’ll all be in City Hall, laughing about the time a reporter pissed me off enough to get me to come out.” A small rumble of laughter rolled throughout the team. Steve smiled. “That’s all, really. Now, on to Tony’s capable hands.”
Tony rolled his eyes and bowed mock-graciously, “Thank you, sir. So main plan is deflect the shit out of this. Reporter comes and asks, ‘Hey Steve, so you’re gay,’ and the answer is ‘So what? It’s 2019, fuck that noise.’ Got it? Good.”
Bruce snorted and noisily opened his notebook. “Copy, boss.”
“Okay so: No media at the dinner tonight,” Tony said uncapping a marker and taking notes on the board. “Tomorrow morning we have?”
Pepper huffed from her perch on the couch Sam was seated on. “Roundtable interview with the Globe.”
Tony’s hand stopped scribbling. “I thought that was on Friday?”
“It’s Thursday today, Tony,” Bruce said.
From the corner, Steve started to laugh. “I want to say I’m sorry, but I’m really not.” Tony scowled at him before turning back to the board. “Okay, whatever, fine, a media roundtable, Bruce—”
“Revise talk points for tomorrow,” Bruce nodded at Tony.
“Prioritize our holding statement, I want it out before the dinner. Nat, anyone hounding you yet?”
“Just a few, most reporters are still covering Pierce’s event. We should expect him to say something about it, too.” Natasha said, eyes on her laptop which was balanced on her lap.
“Yeah, obviously. So, okay. Bruce, get out of here and write. Pep, update him after.” Bruce stood up and stretched before walking out of the pantry.
“Okay, next?” Tony said, turning back to Pepper.
“Then we have lunch with the Governor, and then a forum at the community college. Should be done with the day by five.”
“Fantastic,” Tony said, shaking his head. This was going to be a headache and a half. Steve smiled sheepishly at the rest of them, and said, “At least it’s not boring.”
*
The office always looked eerie at night, the sheer blackness seeming to leak out of the spaces in the blinds. That could be a metaphor, if he wanted it to be. But he doesn’t.
Steve pulled out his keys to unlock the door, but found it open. He made a small sound of displeasure, turning the knob. Must have been Bruce or Tony, they were the ones who usually stayed up the latest, he thinks to himself. Steve pushed the door open and the light from Tony’s office illuminated the floor. Brow furrowed in confusion, he slowly made his way there.
Tony was standing with his back to him, reading on his tablet.
“What are you doing here?” Steve said, hand holding Tony’s door open.
Tony whirled around in surprise and almost dropped his glass. “Fuck!” He yelped, scrambling, then, “I fucking work here???” Tony answered, shrilly. “When did you become a super spy?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Steve said, placing his hands on Tony’s shoulders in an attempt to ground the both of them. “I think I left my planner in my office,” he says, by way of explanation.
“Your what.” Tony said.
“My… planner? With my notes? And schedule?” Steve squinted at him, confused.
“A planner,” Tony said. “You—you know you have a phone, right? With like, a calendar synced across the team and with emails and, you know, a virtual notepad for your to-do list, do you even still have a to-do list, isn’t it all just Pepper,” Tony said, laughing a bit. “What the fuck, Steve.”
Steve smiled, rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “It sticks more when I write it down,” he said, by way of explanation.
Tony rolled his eyes fondly. “Sure. Okay. Clearly not sticking enough or you’d have remembered the round table interview you’re having later, before you—”
Steve glared at him and Tony stopped, then rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, walked back inside his office to and picked up where he left off.
“Found it,” Steve said, peeking into Tony’s room and waving his planner up triumphantly. “Congratulations, crisis averted,” Tony said from his desk, nodding at Steve.
Steve huffed out a laugh. “Are you drinking on the job?” Steve walked into Tony’s room and held up Tony’s bottle of whiskey, and scrunched up his nose as he scrutinized it.
“Technically this is overtime work. I’m not on the clock,” Tony smirked and plucked the bottle from Steve’s hands.
Steve tsked. “Well if that’s the case, pour me one.”
Tony looked up from his laptop, measuring. “It’s late.”
“Technically, it’s early.”
“Steve.”
“Tony.”
Their gazes held, seeing who would back down first. Then, with a small sigh, Tony opened his bottom drawer and pulled out another glass, pouring Steve a drink. “I guess we deserve it.”
Steve took the glass from Tony and nodded in thanks. “Cheers,” Steve said. “To your bad temper and my constant headaches,” Tony said, laughing.
They drank in companionable silence on the couch in Tony’s office until Steve started to feel a pleasant buzz at the base of his skull. He was exhausted. So was Tony, but he always was. How couldn’t he be? It’s not like Steve had made it easy for him.
“How did the dinner go?” Tony asked.
“Fine,” Steve said, before resting his head in his hands.
Tony reached over and placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder, rubbing slowly over the soft fabric of Steve’s sweater. Steve rubbed at his temples uselessly.
Above him, Tony said, “I want to lie down.”
“Okay,” Steve said, noncommittal. He didn’t want to move, at least for a few more minutes. But Tony got up from the couch and motioned for Steve to do the same.
Steve was confused for a second, but instead of focusing on it, ambled over to Tony’s desk to pour himself another drink. Tony pushed his coffee table out of the way before reaching under the cushions to pull out the bed.
“Why don’t I have one of these?” Steve asked, frowning at the sofabed now unfurled in front of them.
“Because you shouldn’t sleep in your office,” Tony said, matter-of-fact.
Steve hummed in response and sipped his whiskey.
Tony grinned at him and plunked down on the bed, untucking his shirt for maximum comfort. Then, Tony stretched and let out a groan. “That’s the stuff,” he said, before patting the space beside him. “Come on.”
“Huh?”
“Lie down for a bit.”
Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times, his brain tripping over itself as it dutifully supplied reasons as to why he absolutely could not rest, at all, maybe ever, for the next month and a half. Also: What? Steve thought, helplessly.
Tony grumbled and waved him down. “Come on,”
Steve looked down at Tony and stopped himself from letting too much fondness deep into his smile. Then, he finished his drink, toed off his shoes, and lay down. Steve sighed as he felt his body settle into the thin cushion of the bed.
“See? It’s nice.” Tony said, eyes closed and lips quirked in the warm smile of victory.
Soon, Steve felt himself falling in and out of sleep, and almost imperceptibly felt the cushion dip as Tony shifted, trying to get comfortable.
Steve turned and opened his eyes to be greeted the faint dusting of pink on Tony’s cheeks, the smell of whiskey wafting over the both of them. He squinted, checking to see if Tony was awake. And then, Tony’s arm was over Steve’s chest, his warm body flush against him.
Steve held his breath and felt something soft and quiet bloom inside him. Ah, fuck. He shifted a bit closer and shut his eyes, willing away responsibility and reveling in the feeling of being touched. “Move your head,” Tony mumbled, then tucked his arm under Steve’s neck.
They continued to move around until they lay down comfortably wrapped around each other. Steve was quiet, afraid of breaking the spell. Friends could do this, get drunk and hug it out after a bad day. This is friendly, he reminded himself. Above him, Tony’s eyes were closed peacefully, and he shifted a bit so his nose was buried in Steve’s hair. Steve turned his head, and realized too late that he was too close—his mouth brushed against Tony’s neck, and in an effort to make it, well, not a kiss, Steve let his lips rest there.
They were quiet. Steve willed his body to remain relaxed as he inhaled Tony’s scent: Smoky, whiskey, and a bit of spice.
They were quiet for a long time, the air conditioning’s quiet hum the only sound in the room.
And then: “Hey, we’re not going to—“ Tony said to Steve’s hair.
“No, nope,” Steve said, his lips brushing against Tony’s neck with every word.
“Right. Okay.” Tony said, adjusting his arm to pat Steve’s shoulder.
“Yup. Fantastic.” Steve said, suddenly stilted and hoping he didn’t sound it.
They lay for a few more minutes before Steve pulled away, struggling against the pull of sleep and the comfort of Tony’s chest.
“It’s late,” he said, sitting up.
“Technically, it’s early,” Tony said, smirking up at him from the bed. His shirt was rumpled, and Steve tore his gaze away from he exposed skin of Tony’s neck. His lips had just been there. Half of him wishes he’d done something. The other half had retreated into a small corner of his brain and was digging a grave for this memory.
“This was nice, though,” Steve said, and meant it.
“Yeah. Let’s do it again some time,” Tony said, sitting up as well.
Steve smiled at him before standing up. “Thanks for the drink. I owe you one.” Why do I keep smiling. Idiot.
Tony scratched his neck, nonchalant. “Yeah, you got a running tab.”
Steve huffed out a laugh before turning away to pick up his planner on Tony’s desk. “You should get some sleep. On a real bed,” he said.
“That an invitation?” Tony grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“For cuddles? Sure.”
“Aw come on, you were supposed to blush at that.”
Steve smiled at Tony again as he walked to the door. “Can’t make it weird anymore, Tones!” He said, sing-song, in an effort to sound like nothing mattered.
Steve was a few steps out of Tony’s door and Tony suddenly pushed his door open. “Hey, Steve?”
Steve stopped and turned to face Tony. “Yeah?”
“We’re okay, right?”
Steve arched his eyebrow. “Yes…?”
“Okay, just, you know. Making sure.”
Steve nodded at him, resolute now that there was space between them. “Sometimes people just need some hugs,” he said.
“Yes. Yeah,” Tony said. He nodded to himself. “Okay. Good night.”
Steve waved at him as he walked off. Yes. Yeah. Okay. People just need hugs.
*
“I thought I told you to get some rest on an actual bed.”
Tony woke up slowly, and Steve could tell the moment he registered Steve standing at the foot of his couch, shaking him awake. Tony made a small sound of reluctance before he brought his wrist to his face to check the time.
Steve sat down on Tony’s coffee table and held up a mug. “Good morning, Tony,” he said.
Tony groaned and sat up. “Why are you here,” he said, voice raspy. Steve nudged Tony’s knee with the mug, and Tony looked down at its contents before taking it. “Thanks,” he added.
“I wanted to go through the talk points Bruce wrote,” Steve said, sipping from his own cup.
“Why?”
“I don’t really agree with—”
Tony held up his finger as he gulped down his coffee. “Okay,” he said, putting down the half empty mug. “Now I’m alive. Again?”
“With how we’re communicating our stance on sustainability,” Steve continued, as if Tony hadn’t interrupted him.
“Okay, what about it?” Tony stood up and walked over to his desk, powering up his laptop.
“I just feel like it’s too conversational? I want to highlight the big facts and processes, things we’ll actually enact,” Steve said, rising from Tony’s coffee table and following Tony.
Tony was scrolling through the Q&A sheet Bruce and Natasha had worked on the night before, with expected questions and bullet-point answers. Steve leaned down and read over Tony’s shoulder.
“While I understand where you’re coming from, we crafted these to make sure you get the soundbites in,” Tony’s voice had taken a mollifying tone that Steve has gotten used to; it’s the tone of deference. Steve hated it and he’d never get used to it.
Tony leaned back on his chair and looked up at Steve, waiting.
“But issues shouldn’t be reduced to soundbites,” Steve said, leaning back on the desk and looking down at Tony. Tony, whose shirt was still untucked and rumpled. Tony, who still managed to look handsome in spite of his chronic lack of sleep.
“Steve,” Tony said, his jaw tightening. “We’ve talked about this.”
“I know, Tony, but I don’t like it.” Steve said. “We should be better than that.”
“It’s an hour before the interview,” Tony replied, already reaching for his phone. Steve glanced outside of Tony’s office: Pepper and Natasha were talking and pointing at something on Natasha’s laptop; Clint and Bucky were looking through photos; Sam was on his phone, video camera resting on his lap. Bruce was probably in the pantry, then.
“So Bruce has an hour.”
Tony didn’t look at Steve.
*
Everyone had given up on pretending they couldn’t feel the tension come off in waves from Steve’s office. They’d abandoned furtively sneaking glances and were all openly watching Tony gesticulate wildly at Steve.
Steve kept shaking his head. Tony was pacing and looking up at the ceiling while talking, as if pleading with some higher power. Then, Pepper’s phone buzzed with an alarm. Everyone turned to look at her phone, and then at her.
“Okay kids, it’s showtime,” She said, drawing herself up to her full height before she walked up to Steve’s room.
Steve must’ve seen her arrival in the corner of his eye, because he got up from his chair.
“You and I both know you’ll say whatever the hell you want to anyway!” Tony said, his back to Pepper.
Pepper coughed delicately into her fist. Tony’s body went rigid and he turned to her.
“We need to leave now, sir,” she said, smiling at the two of them as if nothing was wrong. Steve nodded at Pepper and picked up his jacket from his chair, adjusting his cuffs before putting it on.
“Do better,” he said to Tony, before shutting the door behind him.
*
Steve snuck a glance at his watch and turned back to a student who had used the question and answer portion of the event as a soapbox. “In sum, I think there should be an ordinance that requires community colleges to start vermicomposting. What do you think, Mr. Rogers?” she finished, a bit out of breath from speaking for so long.
Steve smiled at her. “Thank you for your question, and for your great input,” He started. “I do think vermicomposting is fascinating,” he added, “But it’ll be difficult to monitor with such a large scale. I do agree though that we need to look into different forms of waste management, particularly on the level of schools.”
In front of him, he saw Pepper whisper to the moderator. Almost time, then. The moderator stood and delivered a short message thanking Steve for his time, thanking the students for listening and participating, and then calling over the student organizers for a photo.
Steve stood in the middle of them all and flashed a wide smile. Beside him, one of the students turned to him and whispered, “Thanks, sir, for coming out yesterday.” Steve ducked his head to hear him better. “You’re really brave. I hope I can be that brave one day,” the boy continued.
“What’s your name?” Steve asked. Around him, the students had noticed and formed a small circle.
“Jason,” the boy said. Steve shook his hand and smiled. “Well Jason, thank you, too.”
*
Steve knew they were talking about him. He hated that there was an invisible wall between him and the team, one born out of necessity and propriety, one that said, you’re our candidate first, and unlikely friend second.
Steve leaned against the side of the door and listened. Bucky watched him from the couch, frowning. They’d just arrived from a friendly breakfast with other candidates in the slate, and for an hour, none of them talked shop. It was nice. And now, Steve had come back to an empty office and he knew, he knew that the team had taken the opportunity to discuss where they were at without him.
“You still have a month,” a vaguely familiar voice—Steve frowned. Nick? They’d invited Nick over to talk. Nick, a retired campaign manager who’d run Steve’s numbers before he even announced his decision to run, and who Tony had tapped to run focus group discussions on Steve’s taglines.
“And a half,” Tony supplied. The rest of the room had gone quiet, as if they’d known they were being eavesdropped on.
“We’ll just need our events to be harder working,” Tony said. “And buy more airtime.”
“Will do,” Natasha answered.
“Anyway, these are still unofficial numbers, right?” Bruce said, sounding hopeful.
Nick snorted. “You’re still down by 5 points.”
“He should be back soon,” Pepper chimed in, and then followed sounds of the team packing up, getting ready to file out.
Steve pushed himself off the wall and stalked back to his office. He wondered how Tony would break the news to him.
(He didn’t.)
*
Steve woke up to one message on Monday morning, but didn't read it until he was done with his run, had showered, and had a cup of coffee. He’d taken Tony’s advice to heart—advice he’d given after Steve announced his decision to run against the incumbent Mayor Alexander Pierce.
“If you want to make it to the end and keep your sanity intact, keep a routine,” Tony had said, all those months ago. “Shouldn’t be hard, with your background.” So Steve kept at his normal routine: Up at six, ready for work by eight, bed by midnight, at the latest. Well. He’d kept to most of his routine, anyway. No one could sensibly expect him to sleep when he needed to.
Steve was fully dressed when he flicked his phone back to life to pull up the message.
Do not turn on the TV. Meeting at Nick & Nat at 9. I’ll bring bagels.
Steve sighed, put down his phone, and turned on the TV.
*
Tony and Pepper were in the office when Steve and Bucky arrived. Bucky made a beeline for the pantry, drawn in by the offer of bagels, and generally uninterested in the numbers that would be discussed. All the needed to know was Steve’s schedule, and it riled him up to be up close to the politicking.
Tony and Pepper looked up from Tony’s laptop. “Good morning,” Pepper said, evenly. “I’ll go talk to Bucky about today’s itinerary,” she added, excusing herself.
“Have a seat. And a bagel,” Tony said, shutting his laptop and pouring himself what Steve guessed would be his second coffee of the day. Steve nodded, spreading cream cheese on a bagel, mostly to give himself something to do. He wasn’t really hungry.
“I’m assuming you turned on your TV. Or checked Twitter. Both? Maybe both.”
Steve hummed in response before taking a sizeable bite of the bagel, which was overflowing with cheese.
Tony stared at him for a beat, and then looked away.
Natasha and Nick arrived at nine on the dot. Natasha and Tony sat down beside Steve as Nick connected his laptop to the TV, ready with the survey results that they’d all already seen, anyway.
“So Pierce maintains his lead, and you’re down five points,” Nick skipped the pleasantries and dove right in, as he always did.
Tony, Steve, and Natasha were quiet. Tony patted Steve’s thigh, and let his hand rest there. Steve was grateful for the distraction.
Nick sighed, and began breaking down the demographics.
*
After the meeting with Nick, Tony had stalked out of the room, pack of cigarettes in hand.
“Those’ll kill you, you know.” Steve said, shutting the door to the office behind him.
Tony was scowling at his phone. And then he was scowling at Steve.
Steve shrugged in response.
“You never told me why, you know.” Tony said, apropos of nothing.
“What do you mean?”
“Why you had to say it. Why then,” Tony said, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve that had begun to roll down.
Steve stared at his mouth, then noticed himself staring. “Say what?” He asked, dumbly.
“Why you had to come out while everyone was streaming that ambush interview,” Tony said plucking the cigarette out of his mouth after taking a drag.
“I did tell you. I said I didn’t want to lie.”
“Well you didn’t have to fucking answer him, either!” Tony was suddenly all cold fury. Steve felt his stomach tighten, ready for a fight.
“There was a boy, last week, you know.” Steve said, his hands had balled into fists in an effort to calm down. “He thanked me. He thanked me for coming out.”
“Well that’s just lovely,” Tony’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe his one vote will beat out Pierce’s hundreds.”
“Maybe it will,” Steve ground out. “How many times do I need to say that I didn’t want to lie?”
“Well if you didn’t want to lie then you could’ve fucking told me!”
“I didn’t know sexuality was integral to a campaign!” Steve yelled, feeling off balance and defensive.
“It is if that’s what costs the campaign!” Tony said sharply, crushing his cigarette viciously against the ashtray. “For chrissake can’t you just stick to your goddamn talk points,” he finished, voice lower, eyes not meeting Steve’s.
Steve’s inhaled sharply. “I’m not some puppet you can dangle around,” he said. “I’m not paying you to write talk points. I’m paying you to win.”
*
Tony didn’t really talk to him much, after that. Maybe Steve read too much into it. But his schedule had been filled to the brim and it’s not like he had much time to read into anything, anyway.
*
It was week before the elections. Steve sent Bucky home after dinner, opting to go over paperwork in his office rather than his desk at home. The rest of the office was dark, and the team had left for a few Saturday night drinks, taking advantage of the unspoken truce of Sunday.
Steve startled at the sudden stop of music that was emanating through the shared wall between his office and Tony’s.
“Hi,” Tony said from Steve’s door, he looked tentative has he held up a bottle and two glasses pinched between his fingers.
Steve sighed. “I am Very Tired,” he said, enunciating his last two words.
Tony let himself into Steve’s office and placed the bottle and two glasses on Steve’s desk. “Hello, Very Tired. I have a bottle of gin and some bad ideas.”
Steve couldn’t help but smile at Tony, who had settled into the seat across him. Tony waited for Steve’s permission.
“Let’s see what shit sticks, then,” Steve said, and popped open the bottle. “This… certainly smells dangerous,” he said, the smell of gin and spices filling the room.
Tony huffed out a laugh and visibly relaxed, taking the glass Steve offered him. They drank in silence and Steve continued reading reports and signing papers. Tony left and came back with his laptop, and soon the only sounds between them were the soft taps of Tony typing out emails.
Steve stood up and stretched before refilling his glass and then slumping down on his couch. He knew that he wouldn’t be as productive seated there, it was too comfy—it had no business being that comfy in an office.
“This couch has no business being so comfy in my office,” Steve said, as he held up the first draft of his final campaign speech. He stared at the paper and waited for the letters to stop swimming.
Steve looked up, feeling Tony’s gaze on him. Tony was watching Steve from beneath his lashes, and Steve felt his breath catch. Steve turned back down to his speech quickly, clicking and unclicking his pen.
Sometime during Steve’s brave attempts at reading and Not Looking at Tony, Tony got up from his chair and had reclined on Steve’s couch, drinking as he scrolled on his phone. His knees were bent and his head was pillowed by his arm, keeping his head high enough so he didn’t struggle to sip from his glass.
Without thinking, Steve tapped his lap twice: An invitation that Tony took without missing a beat. Steve smiled and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d held. Once Tony had settled, Steve found his hand drawn to Tony’s soft hair, stroking it absently as he juggled between reading, and drinking, and refilling his glass, with one hand.
Tony had made small noises of pleasure that lit a fire in Steve’s gut. He prayed that it wouldn’t manifest physically.
A drop of gin fell from his glass and landed squarely on Tony’s cheek. Steve reached down to rub it off just as Tony’s hand raised to do the same—Tony’s delayed reflexes meant that his hand landed squarely on top of Steve’s.
“Sorry,” Steve stammered, moving to pull his hand away. Tony’s hand gripped his, then relaxed as he pushed Steve’s hand to cup his cheek. Tony’s eyes were closed, his lashes thick and dark against his skin. Steve tried to focus on breathing.
Tony’s head turned, his lips ghosting over Steve’s wrist. Steve shuddered, then, suddenly, Tony turned his head away and he let go of Steve’s hand.
Alarm bells were going off his Steve’s brain, and he suddenly wished he wasn’t this many glasses of gin in. All he wanted was to have Tony’s lips pressed against his wrist again. All he wanted was to have Tony’s lips pressed against his anywhere, and Oh my god.
Steve brought his hand back up to Tony’s hair in an attempt to bring things back to how casual they were minutes ago. Except, Tony shifted away and sat up. Steve downed his drink and belatedly noticed that Tony was seated right beside him, their legs touching.
They were quiet.
Tony swirled his glass before drinking. Steve reached out and held Tony’s wrist, not knowing anything other than the fact that his body ached for Tony’s warmth, anywhere, everywhere, now.
Tony looked up at him, and they stared at each other for a long moment, and Steve wasn’t imagining it, the space between them was closing—he could see how pink Tony’s lips were, the light dusting of stubble on his cheek. Steve licked his lips and saw Tony’s gaze track the movement.
Steve’s phone rang, and Tony slid away as Steve jumped up to find it.
The alarm signaling midnight continued to ring as Steve turned and watched as Tony left his office, laptop in hand. Steve squeezed his eyes shut in frustration.
*
Steve stepped out of the car and was overwhelmed by a wall of sound: Camera shutters clicking, reporters hounding around him with questions. He flashed a smile and began walking to the polling center as Tony trailed behind him, greeting the media as he went.
Tony placed a hand on the small of Steve’s back, guiding him forward unnecessarily. Still, Steve was thankful for the gesture. He was nervous. They all were.
Steve had sent a message to the team the night before, thanking them for their work. Of course, this was after they’d all received a final report from Nick—Steve’s numbers were better, sure, but not good enough. Steve was sure Tony and the team had spoken about it, without him. All Steve got was the report.
Once inside, Steve turned to the team: it didn’t have to be said that they’d all go together. He nodded at them. “Here we go.”
Tony reached out for a hug. For a moment, everything was silent. Tony turned up to look at Steve and pecked him on the cheek. “For good luck,” he said with a small smile.
“All I have to do is make sure I don’t tick the wrong name on the ballot,” Steve said with a laugh, pulling away to turn to the booth. He let out a small puff of breath and went in.
It felt surreal, seeing his name on the ballot, right beside Pierce’s. After all those months, all the forums, fundraisers, speeches—it had all led up to this. Everything, nothing, and over sooner than he thought it would be; Steve rubbed the space between his eyebrows, overwhelmed.
Tony was next in line, and they stood beside each other as they waited for the rest of the team to vote.
“Did you cry?” Tony whispered in Steve’s ear. Steve let out a small laugh. “Aw, Steve.” Tony said. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, I’m doing an informal study. First timers, they always cry. Even if only a little,” Tony said, smirking up at Steve.
Steve rolled his eyes fondly. “Maybe.”
Tony’s smirk relaxed into a small smile. Steve felt Tony’s hand brush against his, then, as if having finally decided, Tony’s laced their fingers together. Steve kept his gaze forward, and smiled when Tony’s hand squeezed his before letting go.
Outside the polling station, the media had gathered neatly around a podium. Steve stepped up with Tony and Natasha flanking him.
“Good morning, everyone.” Steve started. “Today is an important day for our city, and for our nation. Today, we get to make a decision that will affect the next four years. We hope that everyone takes this opportunity to exercise their civic duty, and choose wisely.” Steve nodded at the reporters. “Getting to today hasn’t been easy, but nothing ever good is. Meeting with people, listening to their stories of triumph and hardships, has given me an endless supply of reminders as to why we continue to fight. Now, I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I’ve learned to trust in the people, and to trust in them to make the right decision.”
Steve flashed a smile for the cameras before stepping off the podium.
“Remind me again why we needed to hire Bruce?” Tony asked, taking Steve by the elbow as he led them to the car. Steve snorted. “I can talk. Bruce can write.”
Tony shook his head in response, opening the door for Steve before climbing in after him.
*
Any plans tonight?
Well I was going to punch a bag until I passed out from exhaustion unless you have something better in mind
Want to watch the numbers come in
Not really
Wait is that really what you were gonna do tonight
I mean it’s my job
That sounds horrible
I’ll bring snacks
*
Tony’s apartment was modern, sleek, and neat.
“How did you find time to clean?” Steve asked as he looked around the room with barely concealed awe.
Tony shrugged in response as he shoved a bag of popcorn into the microwave. “Have a seat. Make yourself at home,” Tony said. Steve turned his head as he read the spines of the books on Tony’s shelves.
“I’m making myself a drink. Do you want one?” A beat. “Of course you want one, what am I saying.” Steve had never seen Tony this underdressed, just wearing an old tank top and sweatpants. Steve watched the muscles in Tony’s arm flex as he mixed their drinks, then let his eyes trail down Tony’s back and—Steve tore his eyes away and went back to looking through Tony’s extensive library.
The polls had closed over two hours ago, and all anyone could do was wait for the results to come in. Everyone had gone home, exhausted from all the on-ground efforts.
Tony had his laptop mirrored on the TV, a slow trickle of numbers coming in. Steve continued to work his way around Tony’s apartment, thankful for the distraction. He felt keyed up and tense, not knowing what to do with the nervous energy thrumming through his veins.
“Does it always feel this way?” Steve asked, as he took a glass from Tony.
“On tenterhooks, every time,” Tony said, sliding open the balcony door and stepping out. Steve followed, and raised Tony’s pack of cigarettes in silent question.
Tony looked confused for a moment, then nodded. Steve placed the cigarette between his lips and leaned over to Tony, who had clicked a lighter to life. Tony motioned to the chair and sat.
Steve sat beside him, their thighs pressed against each other. They were quiet as they sipped their drinks and smoked. Steve had thought about this, more than once: Just being alone with Tony, after that night, after both of those nights when they held each other and let themselves be held. Steve had turned it over and over in his mind, why he felt so comfortable around someone he’d met only barely a year ago, someone who was working with him (never for, Steve hated the idea of having people work for him like he was above them). Steve kept trying to figure out why someone who yelled at him a fair share—and who he’d yelled back at, too, sometimes—was someone he’d warmed towards rather than backed away from. Somehow, somewhere down the line, Steve had found a friend in Tony. But more than that, Steve found himself noticing the way Tony’s hands moved, the way he’d lick his lips after taking a sip of coffee, the way he’d keep touching everyone so casually. It drove Steve up the wall, trying to figure out if it ever meant anything, after those nights, after that time when their faces were so close Steve could feel Tony’s breath—Steve replayed that memory often. Steve thought about how things would’ve been different if he’d just leaned in a bit faster, or reached out to stop Tony from leaving, maybe finally know what it felt like to have Tony’s lips pressed against his. And then, Steve knew. Knew that he’d have to say something, and soon, because it would all be over soon, maybe (hopefully not), but Steve had to say something or else he’d explode.
Tony placed a hand on Steve’s knee and squeezed, jolting Steve out of his thoughts. Steve looked at Tony’s hand, and took a drag off his cigarette, tension beginning to pool in his stomach. Tony smiled at Steve, and Steve felt himself blush.
“Steve,” Tony started, and Steve shrugged off Tony’s hand and stood up, nervous now for different reasons.
“So. Okay, since, you know, we’re done with the campaign,” Steve said, beginning to pace and then stopping himself. “I should be honest.”
“With you,” Steve added, turning to Tony, and then turning away just as quickly. “Because that’s what we always strove for, in this campaign. Honesty. It’s the best policy, if you ask me,” Steve said, taking another drag of his cigarette. He felt a bit wild. He wasn’t sure if his hands were shaking. He was pointedly not looking at Tony.
“Anyway,” Steve said, willing himself to keep going, or else he’d just never speak again, ever. “Here goes, right,” he added. Steve reached over to the table and pulled out another cigarette, lighting it quickly. Tony reached over and lit a new cigarette as well, uncharacteristically quiet, and Steve was both thankful and horrified in equal measure.
“I may have… lied? About the cuddling being normal, I mean it’s not abnormal it’s just, I wanted to do more than cuddle, that one time, actually no, both times, I wanted to kiss you—I want to kiss you, a lot, all over your beautiful damn face, okay, and, there, I. Yeah.” Steve let out a long breath. “See, that’s why we needed to hire Bruce,” he said, and even to his own ears, his laugh sounded panicked.
There was ash on Tony’s pant leg, meaning Tony hadn’t moved his hand, and Tony was staring at him. Steve touched the back of his neck, scratched a bit at the skin there, not really knowing what to do with his hands. Tony stood up from the bench and walked up to Steve, placing his hands on Steve’s arms, grounding him.
“You always have to beat me to it, don’t you,” Tony said quietly, as if more to himself than to Steve. Steve breathed. Tony looked up at him, a small smile on his lips. “Well are you going to kiss me or what, Rogers?”
Steve smiled so hard it was as if his face would break. Then he bent down and pressed his lips gently against Tony’s.
Tony nipped at his bottom lip and Steve felt his brain short circuit at the touch, then kiss got messy, their mouths barely separating and only for them to gasp in breaths before kissing again, greedy with want.
Steve ran his hands down the length of Tony’s back as Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling them together closer. Tony let out a small, needy noise and Steve shuddered, needing more, needing absolutely everything.
Tony began moving them backwards into his apartment, dragging Steve expertly through his living room, their kiss breaking only briefly when Steve bumped into Tony’s coffee table.
Steve let out a low growl of frustration, and then hoisted Tony up against his hips.
“Oh Jesus,” Tony moaned, bending down to kiss Steve hungrily. Steve could feel Tony’s hardness pressing against his stomach, and a short burst of arousal zipped around his body as he walked towards Tony’s room.
They fell on Tony’s bed and laughed at how the sudden shift pushed the air out of them. Then Tony pushed Steve down onto the bed and began kissing down his neck, letting out a soft string of confessions and obscenities. “I can’t fucking believe,” Tony mumbled as he began unbuttoning Steve’s shirt. Steve’s hands were on Tony’s waist, and he ground up against Tony, desperate for friction.
Steve trailed his hand up Tony’s torso, stopping to pinch a nipple. Tony moaned into Steve’s chest, where he’d been trailing kisses as he unbuttoned Steve’s shirt. Steve pushed him away gently and tugged at Tony’s shirt, his cock straining even harder against his jeans now that Tony was shirtless. “Fuck,” Steve said reverently.
Tony smiled down at him and unfastened the last button, hands skating across Steve’s bare stomach. Steve sat up and kissed Tony again, his hands against Tony’s chest then moving out to grip his arms, then down to Tony’s hips, pushing Tony’s ass down. Tony’s hands moved to Steve’s fly, and he pulled away.
“Is this okay?” He asked.
Steve suddenly registered how Tony looked, eyes wide, lips pink from being kissed, perfectly coiffed hair now askew. Steve did that. He wanted to do more. Steve nodded enthusiastically, not trusting his voice from cracking.
Tony pulled Steve’s jeans and boxer briefs off before taking the opportunity to shuck off his sweats. Steve licked his lips as he surveyed Tony’s naked form, and then realized Tony was doing the same. Steve felt himself blush at the attention, before he leaned over and pulled Tony back on top of him, kissing him again, and again, and again, his skin on fire in every point of contact.
Steve flipped Tony onto his back easily. “I’m going to suck you off now,” he said, with probably more resolve than necessary. “I’m in heaven, aren’t I,” Tony groaned. Steve licked a small bead of precum off the top of Tony’s cock, reveling at the taste. Then, he took all of Tony’s cock in his mouth in one swift go, which elicited a strangled moan from Tony as he dragged his mouth back up and let Tony’s cock fall out of his mouth with a soft pop. “Now you are,” Steve said, grinning up at Tony, who had pushed himself up and was watching Steve, a look of wonder spread plainly on his face. Steve bent back down and continued to lick and suck Tony’s cock, his own arousal making him grind against the bed, fireworks going off in his brain when Tony reached down and tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, pulling and pushing along with Steve’s rhythm. “Please, please, please,” Tony moaned.
After a few moments, Tony pushed at Steve’s shoulder: “Mhn,” Tony said, eloquently. “Stop or I’m gonna—“ Steve wrapped his hand around the base of Tony’s cock and kissed the head sweetly. “Oh god, Steve, Steve,” Tony blathered, his hand moving from Steve’s shoulder and to the base of Steve’s skull. “Steve, please,” Tony moaned.
“Can I fuck you?” Steve asked, his hand rubbing up and down Tony’s thigh.
“What the fuck do you think I’ve been asking for?” Tony hissed, falling back onto the bed in frustration, then Tony turned away to dig through his drawer.
Steve huffed out a small laugh, and kissed Tony’s hand when he was handed a small bottle of lube. Steve coaxed Tony’s knees up and kissed down his thigh as he spread some lube on his fingers.
Steve pressed his finger gently against Tony’s hole, and Tony groaned at the touch. “Come on,” he pleaded.
Steve kissed the inside of Tony’s thigh as he pushed his finger in, curling it slowly. “That okay?” He murmured into Tony’s skin. Tony’s reached out and squeezed Steve’s shoulder, impatient: “More.” Steve pushed another finger in and licked a stripe of spit up Tony’s cock. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck,” Tony moaned, “more, please, faster.”
Steve began to suck Tony’s cock as he slowly slid another finger in, continuing to work Tony open. Tony buried his hands in Steve’s hair again, Steve’s hand on Tony’s hip stopping him from completely fucking Steve’s mouth.
“Fuck me.” Tony’s voice was barely above a whisper. Steve stuttered up, his body tight with arousal. “Please, Steve,” Tony added, his hand cupping Steve’s jaw, fingers soft against the base of Steve’s neck.
Steve crawled up against Tony, pressing kisses along his chest. Steve spent a few moments to kiss and bite Tony’s nipple, only for Tony to let out an impatient huff of breath, drawing a leg up and around Steve to pull him closer.
Steve bent down and kissed Tony, smiling down at him as he pushed his cock in. They moaned at the same time, Steve screwing his eyes shut. Tony felt perfect. This was perfect. Steve continued to ease himself in, and Tony’s hands alternated between clawing at the sheets and raking fingers down his back, chanting Steve’s name all along.
“You feel so fucking good,” Steve ground out, fully inside Tony now, stopping his movements to let Tony adjust. “Fuuuuuuuck,” Tony mewled, his hands pawing uselessly at Steve’s chest, his fingernails leaving red lines in their wake.
Then Steve started fucking him in earnest, hot and wild and pressing open mouthed kisses anywhere he could reach Tony. Tony raised his hand to touch Steve’s cheek, and Steve turned his head and sucked in two of Tony’s fingers in his mouth, desire pooling heavy in his belly. He reached between them and gripped Tony’s cock, and Tony let out a choked sound: “Steve, fuck, I’m—I’m going to.” Tony came on Steve’s hand, coating their stomachs with his cum.
Steve eased back, but Tony gripped his hips quickly. “Keep going,” he said, smiling up at Steve, completely blissed out. Steve continued to move, and then Tony reached up and tweaked Steve’s nipple and Steve saw stars.
He collapsed beside Tony, breathing hard. Tony reached over and rubbed Steve’s chest. Steve picked up Tony’s hand and raised it to his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” Tony said, laughing a little. “I knew you’d be a sap. But not this much of a sap.”
Steve shrugged, continuing to dot Tony’s hand with little kisses, eventually moving up to his wrist, then forearm. “Can’t help it.”
Tony hummed in response, then eventually got up. He came back with a wet towel and rubbed them down, Steve still lying limp on the bed. “That really happened,” he said, brain to mouth filter completely gone. “Yeah,” Tony said, smiling at him, sharing the disbelief. Steve leaned up to kiss him.
Then, outside, both their phones started to ring. They startled out of their kiss and ran outside, both of them picking up their phones.
“Nick?”
“Are you seeing the numbers?” Nick asked levelly. Meanwhile, Steve could hear the high-pitched screeching emanating from Tony’s phone. Steve and Tony turned to the laptop, and Tony watched as he refreshed the screen, and then refreshed it again.
“Oh my god,” they said, finally making sense of the numbers displayed on the screen.
*
Steve stood in front of the media, silently going through the talk points Bruce had rushed last night. Behind him, he could feel Tony shifting from foot to foot, mirroring the frazzled energy coursing it’s way through Steve’s body.
“Good morning, everyone,” he started. “Today we celebrate successful elections, the indicator of people’s choice in the democratic process. This win is not and will never be solely mine; today, we stand here with the people’s trust and expectations on our shoulders, and we will remain eternally grateful for this opportunity to serve.”
Steve flashed a smile for the cameras, then moved down to begin shaking hands with the reporters, many of whom he’d eventually become friends with.
“Mr. Rogers,” Steve nodded at the reporter who had essentially outed him to the world. “John,” Steve said offering his hand. John, the reporter, took it gratefully. Behind him, Steve noticed Tony making a face.
“It was only polite,” Steve said to Tony, after extricating himself from small talk with the reporter.
“And I’m proud of you, as your campaign manager. As your friend, I’ve harbored some less than charitable thoughts,” Tony answered, picking a bit of lint off Steve’s jacket.
Steve smiled at Tony, taking his hand and threading their fingers together. “That’s okay. I’m charitable enough for the both of us,” Steve said, giving Tony’s hand a squeeze before letting go.
“That’s debatable,” Tony said promptly. Steve snorted in response, and then stopped when Tony’s words had sunk in.
“As my friend?” He asked.
Tony looked up at him from his phone. “What?”
Steve furrowed his brow. “Tony Stark,” he said, unconsciously jutting his chin out, readying for an argument. “I would like to be more than your friend, eventually. Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?”
Tony furrowed his brow and shook his head, confused and a little peeved. “Tonight is your celebratory dinner with the team and funders,” he said.
“Tomorrow, then.” Steve said, not giving an inch.
Tony let out an exasperated sigh, “no, tomorrow you’ve got—” Steve let out a puff of breath and pulled Tony close, pressing his lips against Tony’s and then quickly pulling away.
“Steve,” Tony growled low. Around them, the room was silent.
Steve smiled serenely down at Tony. “I think as my chief of staff you’ll find some way to prioritize my personal time.”
Tony’s jaw clicked shut, then he let out a burst of laughter. “Congratulations to you too, Steve,” Tony said, projecting his voice to ensure that everyone in the room could hear. “I’ve always loved how affectionate you are,” he added, clapping his hand against Steve’s back in a move designed to look Strictly Friendly. He pulled Steve into a half hug and whispered, “I’m going to make you pay for this.” Tony’s breath against Steve’s ear sent a spike of electricity down Steve’s spine.
“Pretty sure I’m just asking you to do exactly what I pay you for,” Steve whispered back, and pulled away, starting small talk with the media as if nothing had happened. He didn’t want to make Tony’s job any harder than he’d already had. At least for now.
Besides, he had a date to plan.
#steve rogers#tony stark#superhusbands#stevetony#stony#stony fanfiction#stevetony fanfiction#i realized i never put this up fully on tumblr ANYWAY here hi hahasdfjsh#things i write
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i know it's a lot to ask but i'm very sad at the moment and don't know how to handle it - and i have birthday on the 9th august. would it be possible to get a (vampire) one shot from you? it would be so great but i understand if that's too much to ask for. ahh its a dumb thing to ask but it would make me very happy so i wanted to try sorry!!!
Sasuke was tired.
Not because of the night classes—no, he was pretty well-suited to those. He’d been nocturnal for as long as he could remember. And what they were doing wasn’t particularly challenging—just some poses, and Sasuke was acquainted well enough with the human body. It was nice to look at, Sasuke thought, and he liked to spend the time to learn all the different shapes that people could be. He liked to spend the time to look at them. There wasn’t much that made him feel motivated, nowadays, and it was hard enough for him to live on the schedule he’d come to have as it was. This was the first hobby he’d managed to have since…well, it was the only one he had now.
So—no, Sasuke wasn’t tired from class.
He sighed again, forcing himself to move on for once. He’d spent thirty of the last forty minutes drawing and redrawing the model’s neck, over and over again. He already had a tendency to do that, and he was trying to learn not to. Everyone else had managed a full…
“Alright, that’s it for today!”
Crap.
Sasuke sighed, and packed his things into his small, well-worn bag. He’d quit his job last week—or, well, they’d politely asked him to get the hell out of there once his I.D. had finally fell through. He’d very much appreciated the dim lights of the bar, especially alongside the added bonus of drunk, half-conscious people, but Sasuke had been starting to think the constant alcohol was getting to him. It tasted worse from them. Easier to get, though, and he didn’t have to hurt anyone too badly to get it, but he tended to need…more of it.
He hadn’t liked that.
Of course, now, he didn’t have that option as accessible. It was still there. He could still do it—still prowl the streets to look for easy targets and stifle the part of his mind that hated every second of it. It was a last resort, though, which is why he was so…
Tired.
Tired and hungry and a little bit dizzy, and staring at a naked man’s neck for the past three hours really hadn’t helped. Go figure.
He put his hood up and slipped through the door, keeping an eye on the ways everyone went—groups of three, four, five, six—one person there? No, a couple. Shit.
Sasuke leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone—which he’d naively continued to pay for, with the little money that he had, in spite of having a grand total of zero numbers to call—pretending to scroll his way through some screen or another. There were still a few students left in the class, so with just a bit of luck—
A body breezed past him, tucking two earbuds in. Good sign. A casual jacket hung off his shoulders, left unzipped—no necklaces to watch out for, either. Sasuke watched as the man walked a few more lazy steps, staring down as his phone as if picking a song, before promptly turning down the alleyway Sasuke had had his eye on for weeks.
Alright, then. The blond it was.
Sasuke pushed himself off the wall and imitated his own slow, distracted walk. He turned his phone screen off as he continued to stare down at it, letting his eyes get used to the night again—it took longer when he was tired, when he was like this, and he only had about another two minutes before the two of them would be back in the public eye again—he sped up his pace. He had almost mastered getting to them before they could notice—
“Wh—hey, the fuck are you—”
Shit. Sasuke was sloppy and stupid and the man wrenched his shoulder from Sasuke’s grip as soon as he’d felt the heat of his skin at his lips—Sasuke grabbed at him but only caught his jacket—the man spun around with a punch that Sasuke would have dodged if not for the jacket wrenching him in—
His nose would have bled, if he’d had enough blood left. As it was, he was dizzy and desperate and too far in to—
The man pinned Sasuke to the wall with his forearm, keys in his other hand. And a swiss army knife? For god’s sake. Of all the—
“Picked the wrong person to…what the hell?”
The man flinched back. Whether it was Sasuke’s eyes or his fangs that did the trick, he didn’t know. At least he hadn’t stabbed him, though.
Still—
“The hell’s wrong with your eyes?” the man asked, eyes wide, brow furrowed, knife in his hand.
“Probably the same that’s wrong with your brain, moron,” Sasuke snapped, sliding down the wall. He’d barely had the fight in him for that, and now his nose fucking hurt on top of it all. He felt slow and exhausted and fuck this—
“Wh—you—I’m the moron?! I just kicked your ass!”
“And you’re sticking around to find out what happens next?” Sasuke spat, pulling his hood back up. “Get out of here.”
Sasuke closed his eyes.
“I’m not going to turn my back so you can get another go, you know. I’m not stupid.”
“Great,” Sasuke said, tucking his head between his legs. “Stay here forever then.”
The pain pulsed between Sasuke’s eyes—in time with his consciousness, waving in and out. He’d been spacing out and losing his vision and—
“Are you…okay?”
Sasuke looked up, incredulous.
“Are you serious?”
“Well I’m not gonna let you die here—I’ll—there’s a hospital near here—”
“I don’t need a hospital,” Sasuke snapped, “either kill me or leave.”
There was a pause.
Sasuke closed his eyes again.
“What were you going to do to me?”
Oh, for god’s sake.
“What do you think, genius?” Sasuke asked, keeping his eyes closed. Maybe if he just fell asleep…
“You—come on. There’s no way.”
“You’re right,” Sasuke said. “There’s no way. So you should leave before the unhinged lunatic wakes up again.”
“…Is the unhinged lunatic going to wake up again if I leave?”
Sasuke opened his eyes only to glare.
“Your eyes are back to normal,” said the blond, knife still in his hand.
“And yet your brain remains firmly rooted in insanity. Leave me alone.”
“I’m serious,” the blond said, stepping forwards—and Sasuke flinched back, hitting his head to the wall, as the knife moved closer, “I—oh, shit, no, I’m not gonna—I mean I—”
The man’s mouth opened and closed, as if trying to decide whether to appease Sasuke’s delicate sensibilities, or continue to defend himself from an obvious threat.
“You know I attacked you, right?”
The blond continued to watch him.
“You don’t look too happy about it.”
Sasuke rolled his eyes.
“Yes,” he drawled. “It ended rather differently than intended.”
The man’s head inclined to the side, as if he was scanning Sasuke for something—
“I would have expected you to run,” he said, “after I—y’know—pulled a knife on you and all that.”
Sasuke didn’t reply.
“You can’t run, can you?”
Sasuke didn’t reply.
“Can you even stand?”
“Are you getting off on this?” Sasuke snapped, the wave of anger making him feel even more light-headed than before. “Leave.”
The man crouched in front of him. Sasuke flinched back.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out an empty hand. “Make your eyes do the thing again.”
Sasuke stared at him. The man’s wrist came closer. And he could hear the blood humming under his skin, feel the heat of it, he—
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said quickly, desperately—
“Hey,” said the guy, “they do glow. Cool.”
“You’re insane,” Sasuke breathed.
“I’ve still got a knife and I’m not gonna let you die. I save your life and you won’t turn me into one, yeah?”
“I have no idea how to even do—are you—” Sasuke stared at him, “are you serious?”
The man waved his wrist in front of his face—Sasuke snatched it out of the air before he even had another thought.
“Ooh, fangs too—wh—o-oh…”
Finally. Finally. Sasuke nearly collapsed with relief—he fell forwards, clutching the wrist to his mouth, groaning into the warmth—god, he’d been so—
“Okay—that’s—that’s enough. That’s—”
Sasuke let out a small half-strangled noise as the wrist pulled itself away. As the man pulled his wrist away, fuck, it was like he lost it in moments like this—
“That’s—I mean, uh, was that enough…?”
The haze in Sasuke’s mind slowly, slowly cleared.
“I…” he said, staring up into the blue eyes he hadn’t even noticed before—and the marks, on his cheeks, oh— “oh. You’re the one who’s always in class.”
The blond pulled back.
“Wh—yeah, ‘cause my dad owns the place—that’s the thanks I get for saving your life?”
The man waved his wrist in the air and stared Sasuke down expectantly.
The corner of Sasuke’s lip twitched.
“…Thanks,” he said finally.
“That’s better. S’weird though,” he said, bringing his hand back to him, “it didn’t hurt at all. I barely felt anything.”
Sasuke let out a breath, feeling the weight in his body slowly, slowly draining out of him. He hadn’t felt that bad since he’d woken up.
“That’s the general idea,” he said quietly. At least, he thought it was. He hadn’t gotten good enough to pick the arteries from the veins, but he’d at least minimized his impact as much as possible…when he wasn’t entirely desperate. “You should go.”
“Hm?”
“You’re going to be light-headed for a while. Go make it home.”
“Oh—well—yeah, I’ve donated blood before, I know that. Are you gonna be—?”
Sasuke snorted and shoved himself off the filthy (and wet, ugh, he hadn’t noticed it had been wet) floor.
“I’m fine,” he said, giving the blond a challenging look. In debt or not, Sasuke was dangerous. Surely the man knew that.
“Hey—can I see your teeth again?”
What the hell—
“You have the self-preservation of an opossum in the middle of a road.”
The man laughed and moved closer.
“Yeah, I’m a real dumbass—my friends tell me all the time. Open your mouth—lemmie see.”
He moved closer, and—
“Oi—you—” Sasuke said, flinching back, “get your hands out of my mouth—”
“Ooh, they are kinda sharper, aren’t they? Not as much as when you bit me, but—”
“They will be in a second if you don’t stop shoving your fingers at them—”
That did the trick, and Sasuke stared him down with a significantly sharper gaze. Just because he was satiated didn’t mean he was full, and this idiot was waving himself in front of him like a—
“Oh,” the man said, staring at him as if— “you’re scared you’re actually going to hurt me.”
“Wave a steak in front of a rabid dog and see how it ends for you.”
The man’s head tilted to the side, watching him with eyes that seemed too serious for that smile—
“You don’t seem too rabid to me.”
“I just,” Sasuke started, speaking slowly as if explaining something to a small child, “drank your blood. As food. With my mouth. I attacked you about two minutes prior to—”
“And you let me win. You could’ve bit me anywhere—I only punched you once and you backed off.”
“I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Yeah, you were,” the man said, “you were making sure you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t want to do it unless you knew I’d survive.”
Sasuke glared at him. Fine. Fine, yes, he was utterly terrified one day that he’d completely lose himself, and he’d spent more than a few hours in a night making sure every person he knocked down could get back up again—
“Fine,” Sasuke said, clenching his teeth together. “You’re right. Are you going to let me go, now?”
“What am I, holding you hostage? You can go any time.”
“You had a knife.”
“Still do, actually,” the man said, flicking it into his hand only to fold it away, “so don’t try anything, vampire.”
Sasuke rolled his eyes.
“Hey,” said the blond, “wanna help me find the headphones you so rudely ripped out of my ears?”
He stuck the keychain into his pocket and shot Sasuke a wide, innocent grin. Sasuke sighed, but let his eyes flicker to life again, just for a moment—
“They’re over there.” Sasuke nodded at them.
“Aw, fuck that’s cool,” the man said, trotting over to unabashedly grab at the disgusting floor. “What else can you do? You got like—super speed or something? Do you age? Wh—I feel like we would’ve noticed if you had no reflection in class—”
“That’s only a thing if the mirror is laced with silver, idiot.”
The man’s mouth made a small ‘o’ shape. Sasuke’s lips twitched again.
“And, uh, if it is?”
“I don’t know,” Sasuke said. “I’ve never found one where I know that’s the case.”
“Huh,” he said, “don’t you guys have like—a coven or some shit to teach you this stuff?”
Sasuke’s good mood faltered. (He hadn’t known he was in one.)
“None of your business. I’m leaving.”
Sasuke turned on his heel, walking back the way he’d come. He’d be fine for at least a few days, now—and he really needed to find a new job before he was kicked back the gym membership he’d called rent—
“See you next week, vampire!”
Sasuke flipped him off.
And he’d have to find a new hobby.
#sns fanfiction#sns fic#sns fanfic#sns#fics#tumblr writing#ep3otp#asks#anon#kinomi talks#bite me#vampire au#text post#long post#apologies if the formatting sucks I'm rushing!!!#apparently the internet is down for like my whole area dsjkfhfkds#rip my cell data#anyway let me know if you guys like this!!#and everybody say happy birthday anon!!
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As soon as I saw Obstagoon I fell in love partly because it made me immediately go “Keydance would train one of those.” Which led to me spending hours tweaking pokemon sprites to be my two most-hours-played d&d characters and finding out no, Keydance is not very much like the Harlequin sprite at all so I need to redraw like 95% of it, while Gabe on the other hand is just a friendly green Lt. Surge.
All unofficial pokemon sprites were made by conyjams! Pokemon AU talk below.
Gabe the Orc Barbarian with her team:
Emboar because she’s a wereboar who can beat up your dad. Also Emboar is so fucking cute y’all. Probably gifted to her as a Tepig after she was infected to snap her out of her “I’m a monster” funk.
Lycanroc because.. well there’s the lycanthrope connection again but the Midnight form also sounds like it has her brand of Rage: far more excited than angry. Possibly her first pokemon, since she was a farm kid.
Tyrantrum since 1: she likes neck ruffles too and 2: she is also in a place she doesn’t belong because someone who wanted to use her ripped her from wherever she was. She probably would have rescued them as a Tyrunt.
Kangaskhan since she’s the party mom. She hates being called that, but she gives too much of a shit about her friends to not be. Perhaps she helped the baby and this is one of those mutual respect captures.
Nidoqueen was probably her adoptive mother’s Nidorina, could have helped with mobility issues/leaving the house for help/being company since she was very sick but Gabe had to work.
Lanturn, because canonically Gabe fucking ADORES dolphins and this is as close as it gets. This one was probably as simple as spotting them and going I MUST HAVE THEM.
Keydance the “Human” Bard with her team:
Mr. Mime. What do you take her for? You think she’s just gonna not have a Mr. Mime cuz they’re a fairy type? Hell no this little bastard is probably her absolute favorite. 10 bux says she woke up one morning and he was just there doing his mime shit. She never told them to leave so hey she’s a pokemon trainer now.
Primarina, gotten as a Popplio. I imagine Popplios are not treated well in entertainment circles, so it isn’t surprising her chaotic good performer ass would come across one and bust her out. SURPRISE THE FINAL EVO IS JUST A SIREN BARD.
Seismitoad, a pokemon who does damage with the sheer power of Bass Boosted. They also have boobs on their head that spew paralyzing toxins. This is a Keydance as fuck pokemon just trust me on this.
Oricorio performs in the cheerleading style, something used to buff one’s teammates. That’s just a bard that dances. Also it’s a shape shifter! Oricorio tried to cheer her up SHOCKED THE SHIT OUT OF HER AND RAN OFF WITH HER FOOD A DECEPTION YOU WERE FOOLED.
Goodra isn’t just a dragon, they’re tragically hilarious but still sweet. They’ve probably been friends a good long while. Undoubtedly still babies them like a baby Goomy that might dry out.
Obstagoon because.. Y’all they’re a KISS badger with stripey legs doing a constant tongue-out face, I don’t even need to know how it acts, she’s got one LMAO.
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