#{(this was a disaster from bottom and less to top)}

[gyusimp]

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]

ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ

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

Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.

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

I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.

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

He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.

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

He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.

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

Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.

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

It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.

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

This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.

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

There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.

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

He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.

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

He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".

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

As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.

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

It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).

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

He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.

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

He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.

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

He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.

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

He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.

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

If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?

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

He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.

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

He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.

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

In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.

[txrully]

BLLK BOYS AND SLEDDING!

chars. : isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness , hiori yo x gn! reader ( all seperate )

a/n : i do love me some good chaos :3

isagi yoichi

“guys, let’s do this safely!”

famous last words before he absolutely bails halfway down the hill, face-first into the snow. somehow still manages to have a great time. he’s the one who suggests a friendly sledding competition, but it’s less “friendly” and more “aggressively competitive” by the end. you're paired with him on a sled once, and his focus on "the perfect trajectory" has you crying laughing.

bachira meguru

this menace doesn’t even wait for the sled to stop before he’s tumbling off, yelling, “AGAIN!” he’s the one who convinces everyone to build ramps for “extra fun.” manages to convince you to double up with him, and when you hit one of those ramps, you swear your soul leaves your body. he lands laughing, though, and you can’t help but join in.

itoshi rin

“...this is stupid.”

still ends up participating because someone (cough you cough) drags him into it. surprisingly skilled at maneuvering the sled and smirks when he’s the fastest, but the moment he flips over mid-sled, he’s done. sits grumpily at the top of the hill with snow in his hair, but his pout is cute enough to forgive.

nagi seishiro

"too much effort," he says, but still gets on a sled after reo pushes him down the hill. he somehow makes sledding look like the laziest activity ever, lounging like it’s a couch ride. when you crash into him because your sled goes rogue, he’s like, "oh. hey," as if this wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen. still fun to hang out with at the top of the hill while everyone else goes wild.

chigiri hyoma

graceful even while sledding. how?? takes his time picking the “best sled” for speed and spends an embarrassing amount of time convincing you to race him. spoiler: he always wins. but he’ll go slower if you ask to ride with him because he secretly loves your laugh when you’re having fun.

mikage reo

buys the fanciest sled for this outing and somehow still eats snow on the first ride. you laugh so hard you can’t even help him up. by the end, he’s making it his mission to perfect his sledding form. insists on you going with him “for moral support,” but honestly just wants to hear you cheer him on.

shidou ryusei

what is this guy even doing? forget sledding; he’s sliding down on random objects like trash can lids or a snow shovel he stole from someone. he’s also the one to start a snowball fight halfway down the hill, hitting rin square in the face. absolutely screams “FULL SEND” when you agree to double up with him and nearly takes out half the group at the bottom.

itoshi sae

“how utterly lukewarm and stupid.”

but somehow gets roped into it after you call him boring. his technique is surprisingly good (of course), and he smirks every time someone else falls. secretly loves seeing you have fun and, by the end, is casually asking if you’re free for hot chocolate afterward.

michael kaiser

“watch and learn, losers.”

he’s all talk until he flips spectacularly on the first run and comes up with snow in his hair, looking like a grumpy snowman. still tries to outdo everyone and will not stop until he’s proven himself the “sledding king.” tries to impress you by offering to ride together, but he mostly just yells at ness to bring him a new sled every time one breaks.

alexis ness

poor boy is just trying to keep kaiser alive. gets dragged into the chaos but lowkey loves it when you cheer him on. he’s surprisingly good at sledding, but his attention keeps shifting to make sure kaiser’s not doing something stupid. will 100% join you on a sled if you ask and ends up having way more fun than he expected.

hiori yo

“i think i’ll just watch, thanks.”

he says this, but he’s secretly keeping score of everyone’s sledding fails. eventually gets dragged into it by bachira, and to everyone’s surprise, he’s really good at it. finds a spot with the perfect slope and offers to share his sled with you, grinning when you scream on the way down. honestly? he’s just happy to see everyone having fun—and will totally remind kaiser of his epic wipeout later.

© 𝘁𝘅𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 2024

𝖽𝗈 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒, 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾, 𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗌.

it aint december but its kinda alr snowing here saur .. 🤔

[rambling-at-midnight]

Whatever You Need

Request: Jason helping reader through their period

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Summary: Your period takes you by surprise. Luckily, Jason's there to take care of you.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry this took so long... I started four different Jason fics, which means none were finished. But they should be finished and posted sometime soon.

Sprawled on the couch in your pajamas, watching an episode of The Great British Bake-Off that you’ve seen at least twice before, you feel the first twinge of pain in your abdomen. You don’t think much of it at first, which is a mistake. There are still two days before your period is supposed to start, and you ate ice cream after dinner even though you’re lactose intolerant and ran out of Lact-Aid a couple days ago. You figure you’ll head to the bathroom to deal with the consequences of your actions if the need arises, but you’re too comfortable to move when the weighted blanket on top of you has a name and that name is Jason Todd.

You’ve been on bedrest (or couchrest) for the past week and a half after a bad fall in the rain during patrol twisted your ankle. It swelled to twice its normal size. The upside was that it happened during winter break so you didn’t have to make the choice between limping to class or skipping. The downside was that you wanted your superhero persona to have more of a presence with Gotham’s goons. As a part-time hero, unlike Jason and most of his family, you get much less respect when suited up than, say, the Red Hood.

As a contestant’s dough fails to rise and they begin to have a breakdown on the screen, your stomach cramps again.

Sometimes, if you ignore it, the pain will go away. You’re too comfortable to get up now.

To distract yourself, you run your fingers through Jason’s messy curls. He doesn’t have a wash routine, so they’re always frizzier than Dick’s, but you’ve never minded. He’s devastatingly handsome either way. At least like this he looks a little bit less like something come to life straight out of your fantasies. He’s just a little more real.

Jason hums sleepily and pushes his head into your hands, a bit like a cat nuzzling at you. It’s been a lazy day for you both. You’ve been in the same position on the couch for hours—you on your back, half-watching the show, half-dozing, and him on his stomach in the cradle of your legs, head pillowed on your stomach, not even pretending to watch the show, judging by his closed eyes.

Your stomach cramps again, and this time you feel it—the ache even lower, and a wet heat blooming between your thighs. “Oh, fuck me.”

Jason takes a minute to respond, still interested in your fingers that make his entire body tingle when you massage in just the right way. Then he cranes his neck up, brow furrowed and bottom lip jutting out with his confused frown. “Okay?” He starts to sit up, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you draw your legs up and out from under him and roll off the couch.

“No, not literally,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck—did I stain the cushion?” It was no big loss—you’d found the couch on the side of the road and Jason helped you bring it up to your apartment and sanitize it—but a bloodstain would stand out on the light brown color.

“Oh,” he says with realization as you run to the bathroom and slam the door behind you. “The couch is good!” he calls.

Your pants aren’t. It looks like someone died between your legs. You’ve always had heavy periods, especially the first couple days, accompanied by strong cramps. If you get ahead of them and take pain meds, they’re not too bad. Sometimes you can even patrol. But playing catch-up with ibuprofen is a recipe for disaster.

The rest of the day is going to suck.

Because you always feel gross when you’re on your period, and because no amount of wipes would fully clean up the mess between your legs, you hop into the shower and turn up the heat until your skin is bright pink. Jason pops in for a second to drop off a change of underpants and sweats, then ducks out just as quickly.

Turning off the water starts the race against time. As quickly as you can, you apply your preferred hygiene product before any more blood can leak down your leg. Then you towel off and shrug on the new clothes. You still feel icky, but the new clothes and shower helped slightly.

Something sizzles in the kitchen when you open the bathroom door.

“Hey, honey,” says Jason without turning around, standing in front of the stove. He points at the table. “Meds and water are right there. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” is your response. You down the pills and almost set the glass back on the table, but at his insistent look, finish it off. Hydration helps with cramps as well.

“You’re two days early.”

“Well, I haven’t been patrolling. Exercise changes can throw my cycle out of whack.” You sniff. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken stir fry.” You peek into the pan and see broccoli, bell peppers, and a couple other vegetables frying with the chicken. The covered pan behind it, you know without looking, contains rice. “I also have ginger tea brewing.”

All of it, every part of the meal, is meant to help reduce your symptoms and pain.

You can’t help it. How is he always so thoughtful? You throw your arms around Jason’s middle and squeeze. So he can keep stirring the food, he shifts until you’re tucked beneath one arm. His hair is in complete disarray from your fingers like he just walked through a tornado. When he notices your gaze, red colors his cheeks and he flattens his hair down self-consciously.

You press a kiss to his shoulder, the highest place you can reach without stretching.

“Go sit down,” he pretends to scold.

In response, you lean into him, heavier and heavier, until he’s practically carrying you. Jason doesn’t even blink at the added weight.

“I plugged in your heating pad,” he says. “It’s right by the couch.” Another thing right next to the couch is a coffee table he stole from the manor when he was pissed at Bruce. On top of it is a bar of dark chocolate and a freshly-washed bowl of your favorite berries.

You kiss his shoulder again. Jason kisses the top of your head, then nudges you away with his chin. “Go. Sit down. Rest your ankle and your uterus.”

“That is not how it works,” you say, mirth in your voice.

“It’s how I think it works,” he mumbles.

When the food is done, he brings two bowls over. You lift your legs and he slips underneath them. He uses your shins on his thighs as a makeshift table, balancing the bowl between them, and absentmindedly rubs your weaker ankle with the hand not holding his spoon.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence as The Great British Bake-Off plays. You finish first, and as soon as he sets his bowl down, you sit up slightly and make grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

Jason pretends to roll his eyes, but judging by the line of kisses he trails from your wrist to the inside of your elbow as he lies down, he doesn’t mind your bossiness too much.

You shiver at every brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your forearm. It’s almost enough to distract you from the cramping that’s beginning in your abdomen again—a cramping that eases slightly when he’s atop you again, resting the gentle pressure of his weight on your stomach. Warm, fed, and with his weight on you, is it any wonder you fall asleep?

You’re only woken by Jason’s gentle hand shaking you, telling you that it’s been eight hours since you last applied your feminine hygiene product and you need to change it. You’re tired and sore and cranky, but as soon as you blink your eyes open he has pain medication and water for you to take.

You do so in the bathroom in a daze and tumble into your shared bed, tugging Jason in with you. He goes down easily, using his huge, warm form to surround you with his easy, comforting scent. You left the heating pad on the couch, but the thick arm Jason winds around your stomach does the job well enough, and you drift back to sleep quickly, never fully awake in the first place.

The next morning, you wake to an aching back and stained sheets.

You stare up at the ceiling and swear, which unfortunately wakes Jason, who lifts his head and stares at you, one eye still crusted with sleep. His curls are in wild disarray, one side flattened from the pillow and the other on end as if he’s been spending his spare time sticking forks in electrical sockets.

If the cramps have gotten to your spine already, then the next few days are going to be hell. And this was a nice pair of sheets! The blood had better wash out.

Jason grunts and lowers his head. “Everything we own is bloodstained, honey. Though usually it’s mine.”

You leave him in bed. Your hair feels way too greasy, and your skin feels tacky, and even after a half-hour shower, you still don’t feel great.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Jason is there with chocolate-chip pancakes he made himself, accompanied by a fresh bowl of fruit and more meds.

Emotion rises in your throat. You want to tell him so much, like that you love him even though you haven’t said it, or that you can’t fathom going through your period on your own anymore, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect. You know that? You really don’t have to do all this—or stay home from patrol for me.”

Jason tousles his messy curls and shrugs. “Well, I’m gonna anyway. You need me, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me!

[yeahspider]

luther ❄️

Spider’s note - SO ITS MY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYY (finally 21 woohoo!) and i made this as a lil gift to myself . also first post of the new year are we excited ? ot8!skz x reader . just a fluffy piece of self indulgence ive decided to share . thx for enjoying ! stay happy and healthy <33

Counting the amount of candles in the cake Chan was starting to realize this was a bad idea. With so many candles, 21 to be exact, and a small cake, this was a recipe for disaster. Or at the very least a fire hazard. This reminded him he needed to check the batteries in the smoke alarm soon.

“Why does nobody in this house have a lighter?” asked a very frustrated Seungmin. Poor boy has been searching the apartment from top to bottom for ten minutes. Yet no lighter has been found

“did you try Hyunjin’s room? He has incense so he must have a way to light it,” suggested Han from his spot on the couch. Felix banned him from the kitchen after failing to help with the cake. Preferring to lick the frosting and sneak sprinkles into his mouth.

“they’ll be back from the mall any second now.” minho voiced after checking your location. Jeongin and Hyunjin have taken you on a mini shopping spree. To give the boys more time to set up and to appease their need to spoil you, seldom letting them.

Keys at the door sent the whole house into a frenzy. You weren’t supposed to return yet. Nothing was in place. Ballons still need to be blown, streamers need to be hung.

“is the cake done yet?” Changbin asked stepping into the house. Oblivious to the panic his arrival caused moments prior. Causing a collective groan to be heard from the house members . “so I’ll take that as a no then.”

“found it !” Seungmin shouted . just as Felix put the final candle in place.

“Are you guys sure they’re gonna like it?” Felix asked, letting his insecurity seep into his voice. Everything had to be perfect for you in his mind. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.

“it’s pink with sparkles I’m sure they’ll like it just fine,” Seungmin stated. Not before receiving a glare from Chan. Although he didn’t understand why. Nothing he said wasn’t true. You did like pink and sparkles.

“It’s perfect lix they’ll love it.” Chan comforted. Causing Felix to smile and clap his hands in excitement.

With the familiar sound of your keys at the door the boys ran into places as the trio returned.

You stumbled into the darkness. Confused as to why it was like that. The boys were home when you left and you all had the day off. Were they called into work? Sadness seeps into you at the thought of all your boys not being together for your birthday.

You feel Hyunjin put a hand on your back.

“turn on the lights love” he whispers in your ear.

With a flick light floods the room. Standing in front of you are all your boys with the prettiest cake you’ve ever seen.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” they all shout in unison. Lightly laughing at your shocked expression.

“Is this for me? You didn’t have to guys,” you say as joy fills your heart. Veins warming at the fact they went out of their way to surprise you.

“you know we’d do anything for you. Chan said with a kiss on your forehead. You watch as everyone gathers around the table. Cake in the center. Seungmin takes the lighter he worked hard for and lights the candles. Soon the cake is ablaze. Looking around the room at all the faces singing Happy Birthday is as hard not to smile. You were truly so happy.

“All right now make a wish.” jeongin says beside you. His hand on top of yours.

You close your eyes and make your wish. Silently of course. Taking a deep breath you exhale. Hoping you’ll be blessed with many more birthdays with your boys.

[zara2148]

I like to joke about how in-ho is bottom-coded in the six-legged race (shitty at playing a top and fishing for praise from Gi-hun) but I think it's also a good reference for how he manages to stay under the radar despite being a 001 that could set off alarm bells in Gi-hun's head.

One of the things that gave away the old man in Season 1 as the actual games creator with hindsight is how knowledgeable he can be about the way the games are played. Excelling at Red Light Green Light, having a secret strategy for Tug of War, etc.

In-ho, as Young-Il, takes the opposite tact of seeming to know nothing! He is constantly acting very dependent on Gi-hun's guidance, and yes that is fueling my shipper brain but also it's a clever way to make himself seem less suspicious.

Like, if I was Gi-hun, would I think the Front Man was the guy shackled to me hitting himself over how shitty he is at throwing a top? Noooooope, I would not think the Front Man was a disaster gay, and therefore I too would get played by In-ho.

[sylver-star]

⭑.ᐟ Just Cry - Yoon Jeonghan x reader

genre: blurb, hurt/comfort word count: 555 warnings: mentions of break up rating: PG / SFW

Disclaimer: My works are fictional and do not reflect real-life situations, cultures, or individuals. All characters are purely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

The room is cold from the open window, but neither you nor Jeonghan wants to get up to close it. On the floor lays a number of empty bottles of soju and the pillows that you're sitting on, since the couch behind you is still wrapped up in plastic. You pour more soju into Jeonghan's mug and he thanks you quietly. You couldn't find any glasses, seeing as most of your stuff is still in moving boxes that you were supposed to pack up and put in place in your new apartment. Those plans changed when Jeonghan came over with booze - no sentence has ever rung so true.

"Cheers," Jeonghan says once you've topped off your own mug. "To new beginnings."

Your mugs clink together. They both have little Hello Kitty characters on them, and you smile at the sight of Jeonghan drinking out of his so casually. Your knees are pulled up to your chest as you try to keep warm. The soju is helping a little. The blanket that Jeonghan had wrapped around you earlier is helping a little more.

"I didn't think I'd be able to get a new place this soon." You look around your new apartment. "Thank you."

"You know that you don't have to thank me." He's looking out the window.

"Still." You chuckle. "I can't help but be grateful, right? I was in such a shithole..."

You laugh a little more. It feels good. It feels like you have to. "When he told me that he was kicking me out, I genuinely thought 'this is it'. I thought I would have to move back in with my parents- that would've been a disaster!"

Jeonghan's not laughing, but you keep on doing so.

"Hey," he says, "We said not to bring up the ex."

"I know! I'm sorry!" You force out more air from your lungs, it's starting to sound less and less like laughter now. "I'm just so happy that I can laugh at it now! It's ridiculous, really..."

Your laughter dies down and the clump in your throat starts forming again. Jeonghan finally looks at you and sighs. "Don't force yourself to laugh. You know that you can just cry with me, right?"

There's a sadness in his eyes, but more than anything his eyes show understanding - like you're being hugged emotionally. Your bottom lip shakes and you quickly look down at your knees. The tears start building up in a matter of seconds, and it doesn't take long before you're a sobbing mess. One of Jeonghan's arms wraps around your shoulders and brings you in closer to his side.

"Just let it out," he hums. "You don't have to hold it in."

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you take your chance to wrap your arms around his neck. It's uncomfortable at first, but Jeonghan quickly shifts around so that you can sit down in his lap.

"It's so embarrassing." You sniffle. "But I was really scared."

"I know." Jeonghan puts his chin on top of your head. "And it's not embarrassing to be scared over that. I'm here for you."

You nuzzle yourself a little closer to him, and Jeonghan's arms squeeze you. Things may not be perfect, but they're as good as they can be when he's here with you.

[pluckyredhead]

The past few days I've been thinking a lot about the General Slocum disaster.

It's a mostly forgotten story now, but the General Slocum was a passenger steamboat that was used for excursion trips around New York during the turn of the 20th century. In 1904 it caught on fire and sank in the East River, and over a thousand people died (there were less than 1400 aboard to begin with). Most of them were women and children. They were on a church-sponsored picnic outing.

From top to bottom, the story of the General Slocum is about corporate greed, and corruption, and incompetence:

The fire was probably started by a match or cigarette (!) in the Lamp Room, which was full of straw, oily rags, and lamp oil (!).

A child told the captain that the ship was on fire, but the captain ignored him. The crew didn't properly inform the captain of the fire until ten minutes later.

The captain inexplicably made for North Brother Island, even though other islands were closer. Steering directly into headwinds spread the fire faster.

The crew hadn't practiced a fire drill in the past year.

None of the safety equipment on the ship worked, because the steamboat company found it cheaper to pay off safety inspectors than to keep their ships up to code.

There was a hose on board, but it was so old and rotten that it burst when the crew tried to hook it up. The crew then gave up trying to put out the fire or help anyone and abandoned ship.

The lifeboats were wired to the deck, and the wires had then been painted over, rather than removing the lifeboats each time the ship got a fresh coat of paint, so it they were impossible to lower.

The life preservers were filled with cork. They were supposed to weigh a certain amount, so the manufacturer had put lead bars in some of them to make weight.

Others were so old that the cork inside had disintegrated into powder. Solid cork floats. Powdered cork sinks.

That meant that some of the mothers who survived described putting life preservers on their babies and throwing them into the river to escape the flames, and watching them sink.

Very few people could swim at the time, and everyone was wearing the heavy wool clothing of the period. Hundreds of people drowned.

The disaster decimated the immigrant community of Little Germany on the Lower East Side, where most of the deceased were from. Fathers who hadn't been able to attend the picnic because they were working got home to find their wives and children were all dead. Dozens of bodies were either never found, or found but never identified.

Though multiple safety inspectors and employees of the steamboat company were indicted, only the captain - who very much became the scapegoat for the whole thing - was convicted. The steamboat company paid a nominal fine. The one silver lining was that state and federal safety regulations were strengthened in the aftermath.

Like I said at the beginning, this story is mostly forgotten. A lot of historians credit that to the Titanic upstaging it just a few years later. Adella Wotherspoon, who survived the General Slocum as a baby and lived until 2004 (!), said she knew why: "The Slocum people were very poor or middle class. They were often German immigrants. The Titanic and other ships had celebrities."

I don't really have a moral to this story, except that safety regulations matter, ships full of immigrants are just as important as ships full of rich people, and humans have pretty much always been the same, as far as I can tell.

(If you want to know more, I highly recommend Ship Ablaze: The Tragedy of the Steamboat General Slocum by Edward T. O'Donnell, the excellent Wikipedia page, and the Bowery Boys podcast episode on the disaster.)

[simply-ivanka]

Kamala Harris’s ‘Joyful’ War on Entrepreneurs

When Democrats talk about boosting the middle class, what they mean is government employees.

By Allysia Finley Wall Street Journal

Americans who tuned in to Kamala Harris’s coronation last week heard from plenty of celebrities, labor leaders and politicians. Missing from the “joyous” celebration, however, were entrepreneurs who generate middle-class jobs.

No surprise. Cheered on by the crowd, Democrats took turns whacking “oligarchs” and “corporate monopolists.” By the time Ms. Harris took the stage, the pinatas’ pickings had been splattered around. This is what Democrats plan to do if they win: destroy wealth creators so they can spread the booty among their own.

Corporate greed is “the one true enemy,” United Auto Workers President Shawn Fain proclaimed. Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders insisted the party “must take on Big Pharma, Big Oil, Big Ag, Big Tech, and all the other corporate monopolists whose greed is denying progress for working people.” Pennsylvania Sen. Bob Casey railed against “greedflation” and accused corporations of “extorting families.”

Barack Obama lambasted Donald Trump and his “well-heeled donors.” “For them, one group’s gains is necessarily another group’s loss,” Mr. Obama said. “For them, freedom means that the powerful can do pretty much what they please, whether it’s fire workers trying to organize a union or put poison in our rivers or avoid paying taxes like everybody else has to do.”

Democrats treat wealth as a zero-sum game, and so Mr. Obama’s straw men are rich. They get richer by making everyone else poorer—and taking away from the well-off is the only way to enhance the lives of the poor and middle class. Hence, the left’s plans to raise taxes on “billionaires” and businesses to finance more welfare.

It isn’t enough that the top 1% of earners already pay 45.8% of federal income tax, which funds government services and welfare for the bottom half. As for poisoning rivers, perhaps Mr. Obama forgot that his own Environmental Protection Agency caused the 2015 Gold King Mine disaster, which spilled toxic waste into Colorado’s Animas River.

Quoting Abraham Lincoln, the former president invoked “the better angels of our nature” even as he appealed to America’s darker angels. His speech brought to mind a recent homily by my local parish priest about the dangers of class warfare and envy, one of the seven deadly sins.

Success, the priest explained, isn’t a zero-sum game. When a businessman succeeds, he creates jobs that help the poor. Envying and tearing down the successful makes everyone poorer. Rather than plunder the wealthy, society should celebrate success and try to help everyone prosper.

Democrats derisively refer to such ideas as “trickle-down economics.” They denounce and diminish business success, and claim the wealthy have profited from greed and government support. Who can forget Mr. Obama’s line in 2012 that “if you’ve got a business, you didn’t build that”?

Rather than try to make it easier for businesses to succeed—say, by reducing taxes or easing regulations—Democrats want to do the opposite. They call for “leveling the playing field” and “growing the middle class out,” euphemisms for taxing success so government can hand out money. But government doesn’t create wealth. People do.

While business success isn’t zero-sum, government growth can be. Its expansion makes it more difficult for business to thrive. The result is fewer jobs, lower wages and less tax revenue, which finances essential public services such as law enforcement and the “safety net” for the indigent.

Mr. Trump’s appeal in 2016 partly stemmed from slow economic growth during Mr. Obama’s presidency. The Republican promised to make all Americans richer by liberating businesses from government’s shackles. Mr. Trump’s deregulation and tax cuts worked: Average real wages increased nearly 70% faster during his first three years than during Mr. Obama’s presidency.

Yet most Americans have become poorer under Mr. Biden, as government spending has fueled inflation, which has eroded wages. Job growth has become increasingly concentrated in sectors that depend on government spending. When Democrats talk about boosting the middle class, they mean the class of government workers.

Government, education, healthcare and social assistance account for more than 60% of the new jobs added in the last year. In the 17 states where Democrats boast a “trifecta”—control of the governorship and both legislative chambers—the share is 98%. In the 23 states with Republican trifectas, it’s 47%.

Likewise, average wage growth since the start of the pandemic has been lower in high-tax states such as Illinois (13.6%), New York (14.4%) and California (17.2%) than in low-tax Florida (22.5%), Texas (23.3%) and South Dakota (26.9%). If middle-class Americans want to get richer, they ought to move to Miami, Dallas or Sioux Falls.

“As long as we look to legislation to cure poverty, or to abolish special privilege,” Henry Ford once observed, “we are going to see poverty spread and special privilege grow.” That’s the joyous future Americans can expect during a Harris presidency.

Appeared in the August 26, 2024, print edition as 'Kamala Harris’s ‘Joyful’ War on Entrepreneurs'.

[waytooinvested]

Fic: Small Problem...

A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19

.............

There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.

She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.

As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.

Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.

Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.

J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.

And Kara was-

Not there.

Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.

‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.

‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’

Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.

‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’

Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.

‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.

Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.

‘Oh, that can’t be good…’

Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.

‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

Lena froze.

The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.

‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’

‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’

‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’

They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.

‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.

The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.

It couldn’t be… could it?

She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.

Nothing.

Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.

‘Woah! The room’s moving!’

Ah hah.

Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.

‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’

‘Yes! How did you know that?’

‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’

They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.

Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.

‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.

And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.

‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.

She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.

‘I… shrank?’

‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.

Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.

‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.

In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.

Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.

‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’

Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.

‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.

She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.

‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.

Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.

Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.

As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.

It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.

[melinoelliones]

Vincent had a long days work ahead, files and documents covered his desk from top to bottom. However, he had just called you to his office, what could he need from a maid?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist 

Warnings: Slight manipulation, choking, affairs, blowjob, cursing, teasing, crying, lust, one night stand? fem reader

1.7k words

This is so rushed i’m sorry Black Butler fans!!!

“Are you just going to stand there? I called you down here for a reason, now come” he demanded, not even lifting his eyes off of the stack of documents on his desk. “Oh, sorry, yes master” you shuddered, jumping out of your trance and making your way over to his side, not forgetting to bow, “Why are you acting so shy and modest all of a sudden, this wasn’t the side you showed me the other night now was it”.

Your master, Earl Vincent Phantomhive had thrown the party of all parties a couple days before for all the elites, one thing may have led to another which ended in you sleeping with him. It was not what you had intended to do, you were his maid afterall, if anyone was to find out it would be a disaster. Why would he bring it up now? Especially considering after it happened he had said to keep it between you both.

“W~What are you talking abo~ ah” you shrieked ever so slightly as you felt a hand between your thighs, riding up your dress, “stop being so loud she’ll hear you, but back to why I called you here, will you be ever so kind as to help your master relieve some of this stress” Vincent asked as nonchalantly as could be, again eyes never leaving the papers.

“How would you like me to do that? I could get Tanaka to maybe make you some tea, let me go get hi~” “you know that's not what I want” he looked up at you, pushing his chair out from under his desk to grip onto your dress as you attempted to walk away. “But I’m just a maid”, “a maid who’s almost begging for me to touch them? How foolish do you think I am exactly?” he laughed, your eyes widening as his eyes turnt to you for the first time today.

“Ever since that night I’ve noticed you avoiding me, claiming to be unwell and taking days off yet you seemed perfectly fine to me when you were getting off to me in your quarters. Or did you think I wouldn’t know?” he crooked his head, wondering how you would dare to respond to those accusations. As you attempted to think of a lie he cut you off, “even now your dress has less petticoats, I can practically see your entire body, this was what you wanted no?”.

You couldn’t even deny it, this was a fantasy you had had for a while but you hadn’t expected it to play out like this. Not with him in control of the situation anyway, but you were not going to let it slip away that easily.

“A lady mustn't reveal all her secrets, my lord” you smiled, taking a step between the desk and chair before moving to your knees under it. “That's what I wanted to see” he smirked, freeing his cock from his trousers. A small gasp leaving your lips as he took it out, the night you spent together was nothing but a blur so you hadn’t remembered him being as big as he was.

As you took his piece in your hands you were met with a slight groan from him, letting you know how pent up he was, which was perfect for you of course.  You gently moved it towards you, molding it in your palm as it grew with each movement.

“Show me what you’ve been so desperate to do.” Vincent grinned peering at you under the desk, “yes, my lord” you nodded, placing your fingers on the cusp of his cock, pressing tightly as you stuck your tongue out letting a drop of your saliva cover his tip. “But why must we rush, you like to tease do you not?” you jested, watching his thighs tense up.

Whilst you kneaded his aching piece in your fingertips he huffed, unsure of how you would steer the situation, “only one of us is in the position to do the teasing, you are still just a common whore that so happens to be my wife's maid”. Your body responded for you, tightening as he chuckled “Oh, does that turn you on?” he smirked.

Without another word you skimmed your tongue along his girthy shaft before parting your lips attempting to take his entire length in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the lingering burn in his stomach, “A~Atta girl, you got it”.

You bobbed your head up and down taking as much as you could, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. “Fuuuck, full of surpr~rises are we”, he asked as his hand slid to your hollowed cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, a slight pressure being added. His body turnt back to simultaneously finish his work on the desk whilst his fingers curled around your tied up hair.

You hadn’t expected the Earl to be so forward with you, not when you knew his wife could be almost anywhere in the manor, either way it was turning you on little by little. Your heated cheeks along with the large ache between your thighs almost taking over your body as you squeezed them together, allowing yourself that bit of pleasure.

Vincent's groans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling. You slid a hand between the folds of your skirt, “f~fuck” you cried out against his cock as you ran your fingers across your sopping underwear, the friction from the fabric against your swollen clit sending you into a spiral. If only you could see the sloppy handwriting you were causing the Earl to have.

As the scene was at its peak you heard the door creek open, both of you freezing almost instantly, “Goodmorning my love, have you seen that girl anywhere?”. Although you could only hear the woman, you knew exactly who it was, Vincent gave you the fiercest of expressions before lifting his head to his wife, “Who are you referring to my dear?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“That maid you hired for me, I remember her saying she felt a bit under the weather so I wanted to see if she would like to take a stroll with me down to the river, the fresh air could do her some good I think” Rachel beamed, completely unaware of the scene just on the other side of the desk. Your body ran cold as she spoke, Rachel was the sweetest and most patient of women and always treated you almost like an equal yet here you were, sucking off her husband.

“Oh is that r~right”, “darling, are you alright?” “YES, yes I’m fine, don’t step any closer” he commanded, his body folding over the papers on his desk at your actions. The guilt of the situation had weirdly given you a boost, it was almost as if you liked this. In the middle of the conversation you had run your hand down his cock, toying with his balls.

“I think she’s c~closer than you t~think” he hissed, pushing your head further into him as you choked out, his crown hitting the back of your throat constantly as tears ran down your face. “Oh, okay dear thank you, I will speak to you once you’ve finished up those papers” she curtsied, pulling up the door to continue her search.

His eyes widened as he lent back in his chair, before he could even say another word you felt him shudder, and as if on cue he released, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, holding whatever remained in your mouth. “W~Well I didn’t e~expect this”, you could hear his subtle whines as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

“G~od you’re fucking amazing, now cmon and show me the mess you’ve made”, his voice bellowed, watching you slow down, using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as Vincent used your hair to pull you off his cock. You gazed at him alluringly, tear stained cheeks on display as the trail of liquids from his shaft and the sides of your lips broke, allowing you to show him your tongue.

“Perfect, now swallow” he ordered, pulling you up from the ground to your feet, his piece still on display as you took it all down. “You have no shame do you, tears down your cheeks yet you didn’t seem to slow down as my wife spoke. She would be so disappointed in you right now” he sighed sarcastically, using his thumb to wipe the corners of your lips, your pathetic face almost laughable.

“Well? Why are you still in my presence, your ladyship is looking for you is she not?” The stern Earl scoffed, your body not even sure of how to react. “Oh, um, yes, my lord” you stuttered, slowly edging towards the side of the desk, his blank stare burnt into your mind as you turnt to face the door. Had this all meant nothing?

As you went to push off the desk you felt a presence, “How amusing” he cooed in your ear as you stomach hit the desks face, his body hovering above your back. “Taking our time are we? Well, what should I do with you now” he growled, a hand inching your skirt up as he nibbled your neck. His bare cock pressed up against your lower half, you needed him badly. 

Watching your pitiful attempt at leaving was almost comical to the Earl, but he had never intended for you to leave so soon, not when he knew you were a whore with no morals. He was more than ready to make use of his wifes little expedition, your body was his for the taking and you were more than eager to give it to him. He would not stop until all his stress was gone.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Chaos and Calm

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1551 Tags: fluff, domesticity, single dads, pre-relationship, outings in the park, feeding the ducks, rain

Notes: For Day 1 of Dreamling Week 2024 as organized by @mr-sadman, for the prompt 'hunt'. Also dedicated to the wonderful @chaosheadspace, whose single-dads AU Castle in the Sand rotates in the back of my head quite often - I meant to have this coincide with your birthday but didn't quite make it, alas.

Summary: Searching for rain boots and meeting friends in the park. No real plot, just meandering domestic parenting vibes.

On AO3

"Robyn! You 'bout ready, kiddo?"

Hob winces at the sound of something heavy thudding on the floor above, and then his son appears at the top of the stairs. "I can't find my boots!"

Hob suppresses the urge to sigh. "Do you remember where you had them last?"

Robyn's brow furrows. "Maybe? They might be in the cupboard? But I think I might have used 'em as astronaut boots and forgot to put 'em back."

"Did you check by the washing machine?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. You keep looking in your room; I'll check down here and then come help you look if I don't find them."

"'Kay." Robyn scrambles back up from where he'd started down the stairs and dashes back to his room, and Hob heads to check the coat cupboard in the front hallway.

They're meant to be meeting Dream and Orpheus at the park in fifteen minutes. The day has turned out to be dreary and grey, light rain off and on keeping it misty and damp and a raincoat plus wellies are definitely called for.

If only he or his son could be relied upon to consistently put things back in their expected places. Ellie had always scolded them about it, gently, and for all the years since she's been gone Hob has kept trying to do better, but it's not always top of his mind and they're both surviving okay, despite the current inconvenience.

He checks the bottom of the coat cupboard; no boots.

He lets the sigh out this time, since Robyn's not there to see the frustration. He checks the utility room next, where last year's too-small snow boots are still sitting next to this year's because Hob hasn't gotten round to dropping them off at the charity shop yet. This year's snow boots will have to do if they can't find the wellies, but he's not giving up yet.

He's not going to tear the house apart looking, either, though; he's eager to get going. Letting Robyn spend time with his best friend is important, but also. Hob really looks forward to seeing Dream, for—well. For lots of reasons, that he's comfortably aware of but cautious about acting on because the kids would be caught in the middle if it didn't work out and that's the last thing he wants. Right now he just wants to let himself enjoy the possibilities. Hanging out, conversations while the kids play, watching Dream's pretty face go soft and expressive as they talk.

So. Best check all the likely spots in this comfortably-cluttered chaos he lives in, then, so they can find the boots and get going. It would certainly be easier if his home was less messy, but he's a single dad with a very active kid, he teaches secondary school, and taking the time to make his home look like a magazine spread is just not on his agenda. And sure sometimes it bites him in the arse, like now, but most times the chaos is of a manageable level and more importantly, it works for them.

Just. Not today, apparently.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, fires off a quick text to Dream.

May be a few minutes late We've a crisis of missing wellies over here Keep you posted

Dream's response comes through almost instantly.

I wish you luck in your hunt, then. We will wait.

Hob smiles, tucks the phone back in his pocket and heads up the stairs to join the search.

Robyn's room is a little bit of a disaster zone, as he's been throwing things around in his haste, and Hob kneels to crawl around the floor and help him look. He'll help him straighten up later, too, but for now they're boot-hunting.

Robyn is a little worried, as it turns out. "What if Orpheus and his dad leave before we get there? What if they think we're not coming because I can't find my stupid boots?"

Hob laughs, a small laugh full of kindness. "They wouldn't," he assures, pulling his kid into a one-armed hug as they sit on the floor. "And besides—I texted Orpheus's dad so they know we're running late." He drops a kiss in Robyn's hair. "Now let's find those blasted wellies so we can get going, yeah?"

The boots are not under the bed, or the desk in the corner; they're not in the toy chest, nor the basket for Robyn's dirty laundry, nor under the laundry that hasn't quite made it into the basket. Hob helps that last category get to where it was meant to be and sits back with a sigh, making a mental note—and hopefully he'll remember later���to be sure to run a load of Robyn's clothes.

"Alright, kiddo, is there anywhere you haven't looked yet?"

Robyn ponders for a moment, face scrunched in thought, and then lights up. "Oh!" He scrambles off the floor and over to the wardrobe, yanks it open. Hob would have thought that would be the first place to check, so he hadn't looked himself but obviously he should have, because Robyn dives into it with a little yell of victory and emerges with a boot held high in either hand and triumph radiating from his grin.

~ They're only a little bit late to the park; Robyn and Orpheus spot each other at the same instant and yell in excited unison, charging across the wet grass and crashing into a hug that also involves a lot of jumping up and down. Hob grins at their enthusiasm, eyes searching beyond them to find Dream looking for him as well; the smile that blooms on Dream's face, visible even at this distance, makes Hob's heart do a pleasant little flop in his chest.

"Your hunt was successful, I see," Dream says, when they are close enough for speaking; they are trailing after the boys, who are cavorting in the general direction of the duck pond, splashing in collected puddles on the path. Dream's got his umbrella up, even though it's not raining right this moment, which somehow just enhances his general goth vibe.

Hob stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, time to do a major cleaning. His room's a bit of a mess but we finally found his wellies in the wardrobe. Which honestly would have been the first place I checked if I'd realized he hadn't. Kid brains work on different logic, I suppose."

"True." Dream shifts a little, casts a glance sideways at Hob. "Robyn is fortunate to have a father so skilled at finding lost items."

"Got a lot of experience misplacing my own crap," Hob offers, laughing to cover the flustery warmth seeping into his chest at Dream's simple compliment. "And he found the boots himself, just needed some help thinking it through."

"As I said. He is fortunate to have your guidance," Dream reiterates, and Hob is saved from having to respond when Robyn comes running back to where the two of them have stopped at the path's edge. Orpheus is over by the pond, bending down to peer between the rails of the short wooden fence that surrounds it as several ducks swim toward him.

"Dad! Did you bring the peas? The ducks're hungry!" There's eager excitement in Robyn's voice and Hob smiles.

"'Course I did, kiddo, here." He rummages in the bag at his hip, slung comfortably across his chest, and hands over the snack-size freezer bag of peas; Robyn thanks him and dashes back over to Orpheus. Whether or not the ducks are 'hungry' is arguable, but Hob won't deny his kid the human joy of personifying the world around him nor of feeding the ducks, which is generally their purpose in coming to this park. He glances sideways at Dream—who is Hob's own private secondary reason for any of the activities they do together with their kids—and finds him watching the boys with the softest little smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He's so beautiful.

It starts raining, then, just a light misty sprinkle. The boys put up the hoods on their raincoats and carry on tossing peas to the eager birds who've gathered for the feast; Hob is about to dig his own umbrella out of his bag but Dream steps closer and shifts his own broad umbrella over Hob as well. His arm presses up against Hob's, from shoulder to elbow, and Hob swallows the urge to lift his arm and put it around Dream's shoulders, leans solidly into the touch instead. It's nice.

It's so, so nice, and Hob revels in the imagined warmth he can feel seeping into the contact despite the layers between them, the way that seconds turn to minutes and neither of them moves away, how they both watch their boys in comfortable silence. Hob's thoughts and emotions often feel chaotic and jumbled up in the same way his house manages to be a mild-but-functional disaster zone but this—sharing an everyday domestic moment with Dream, the casual unremarked closeness between them—it quiets something in his head, makes anything and everything seem gloriously possible.

This, this is a feeling worth finding, a feeling he did not even realize he was searching for.

He is still entirely grateful to have found it.

= Started: 6/2/24 Drafted: 6/3/24 Posted: 6/3/24

[yousaydisco]

THIS GOT SUPER LONG WHOOPS

I can't stop thinking about this post (TL;DR it is about how Kim's life is almost as sad as Harry's due to how he has lived his entire life as horribly repressed, not allowing himself the freedom of his own silliness which is why he is such a good pairing for Harry, since they are both silly) and I started thinking about thoughts

specifically how this knowledge would fit into a swap AU

like a lot of other people here, I really like a swap AU and I think it allows for a fun way to flip each character on its head and examine a Harry who is more cleaned up vs a Kim who is more of a disaster, and how Harry would fit taking a more patient role to a Kim that lost his memory. But! A problem I have with a lot of swap AU's is that Kim just. . . would never be allowed to be a disaster like Harry is.

If Kim was like Harry, who was brilliant and highly capable and basically the perfect detective except for substance abuse problems, explosive personality, narcissistic traits (looking at you, Superstar), and overall impossible to control, he would get fired. He wouldn't be given 500 chances like Harry (presumably) has. So in his swap AU, Kim is still his highly controlled self and Harry is slightly less of a disaster. Enough so that he doesn't drink himself to amnesia at the start of the case, but he is still a mess dealing with all his stuff.

So how did Kim lose his memory? Probably a car accident. Had to get dragged out of his precious Kineema and its completely totaled, he was hold up at the Whirling-In-Rags as he healed and woke up with just. No memory.

And no reason to repress anything anymore.

Some scenes:

Harry arrived at the crime scene days late because he was avoiding work to get drunk, which is also why Jean Vic isn't with him either because he's sick of babysitting him so when he gets to the Whirling and hears that the other officer hasn't been picking up the slack and instead is horribly injured he's like. Fuck!

Kim doesn't remember shit. Not about him, not about the world, but after some time wandering behind Harry all dazed and confused he finally sees Harry's car and GASPS and rushes over. He examines this thing top to bottom and spouts off trivia facts a mile a minute at Harry, who is just standing there like 'I thought this guy had brain damage' but he listens. So patiently.

He eventually does have to stop him though. He says its for the case, but it's really when Kim starts looking at the interior and he doesn't want him to see the mess in there. Or how badly he's taking care of the car.

Harry isn't sure why he's suddenly so insecure about being seen as messy in front of his guy. Whatever.

During the field autopsy Harry, who is horribly hungover, still throws up. Kim still comforts him by rubbing his back, probably went ahead and pull his hair away from Harry's face, and then pats around his pockets for the handkerchief.

Kim gets an inkling of a feeling that he's missing something (his notebook, though he doesn't know that yet) but Harry doesn't notice what is going on in Kim's head yet, when he probably normally would, because his highly highly repressed bi-sexuality is rearing his head because there is this guy just casually touching him lovingly and he can't think.

(Kim probably also lost his gun and badge, it fell out of his jacket when he was being dragged from the car, but Harry told him that in their first conversation. He wouldn't know that Kim is also missing a notebook)

Kim is also putting in all his effort into the field autopsy. He's like, I'm a cop? Okay, let's solve this!

When Harry suggests that Kim get on his shoulders to get the hanged man down he's like, hmm you look strong enough to carry me alright let's try that, and Harry barely has time to register that this guy called him STRONG LOOKING before Kim is climbing on him and he has to try and appear COMPLETLY 100% STRAIGHT.

He succeeds, but mostly because Kim is too focused on getting the corpse down. If he looked at Harry's face it would be very obvious.

But the actual autopsy = Kim probably approaches it mostly fearless. And he's trying to be really observant to make up for his eyesight not being all that great, and he's probably talking out loud about everything since he can't write it down. But it would still be Harry who noticed the bullet. Kim probably compliments Harry on his ability to see it and, again, Harry loses it a little bit.

Kim's interactions with Cuno and Cunoesse helps him unpack a few sense memories of going undercover with juvenile delinquents and he thinks the best way to talk to them is to relate to them. Somehow. All he can remember his trivia facts about Pinball and the best strategies to get a high school, and in between his lecture on it he sometimes breaks into rants about how Pinball sucks actually, and he hates it, and it makes him feel bad for reasons he doesn't know.

Harry tries to make Kim seem less weird by throwing in facts about Contact Mike.

More than anything it just baffles Cuno and Cunoesse.

When Kim hears that "Welcome to Revachol" for the first time he doesn't remember that its racist, but he does know how it makes him feel, so he's instantly pissed off. Harry, who is overall a good guy but has absolutely said racist stuff while drunk and probably the day before, goes off as well and stands up to the racist so Kim doesn't do something WORSE and get in trouble. It's not that Harry is socially aware enough that has a white guy he can get away with more stuff, he wants Kim to like him.

You know how at the end of day briefing in the game has Harry calling Kim so cool, and it feels like that is the moment where Kim is really endured to Harry? In this AU, Kim will say something like hey. We should hang out once the case is over. And Harry, who has a whole thing about feeling like he's terrible and horribly unlikeable and just wants someone to see him as a mess worthy of their time rather than just a fucked up person, finally admits to himself that he cannot repress this anymore and he might have a crush on this super cool weirdo.

(that doesn't mean Harry feels any better about himself, really. He's now just convinced that he has to Fix Himself Completely overnight so that he can actually help this guy regain his memories.)

(OH ACTUALLY! No, Harry doesn't want to help Kim regain his memories. He's not going to actively try and stop it if it happens, but he will secretly hope that he never remembers the world in case they met while Harry was blackout drunk and Kim won't like him anymore.)

A scene where Kim fiddles with Harry's radio and it starts playing disco. He can't help but let out an audible "ew." before switching it to Speedfreaks. Harry is offended to his CORE and they have a playful but still loud/heated argument about music.

THE BOARD GAME SCENE! Harry still gets Suzerainty and when he starts popping out the cardboard pieces Kim just SNATCHES it out of his hands. No apology. And he's having such an obvious blast just poking out the pieces and then taking out every part of the board game so he can see all the components (classic autism moment) that Harry impulsively (classic ADHD moment) buys multiple more board games just to give Kim more fun little pieces to poke out. And Kim loves it, and Harry thinks "I'm winning at making friends. I'm going to win a prize at making friends and the prize will be a friend :)"

They do eventually find Kim's badge and gun and Harry is very happy at that, but Kim is still like. Hmm. Something is missing.

When he finds his notebook he's just. SO HAPPY! He thinks its like being reunited with a friend. Probably hugs it/clutches it tight to his chest. But when he opens it he's like "god damn my handwriting is awful."

Harry asks to read it, mostly joking around, fully ready to steal it when Kim isn't looking, except Kim just. Hands it over. And doesn't stop Harry from reading it. And of course Harry does.

Kim doesn't really KNOW about homophobia so he probably just. Says gay shit all the time. And Harry can't deal with it. The scene with the smoker on the balcony is still really funny but it's less of Harry having a bi-panic moment (he still has elements of it though) but when Kim starts flirting back in earnest Harry is just. Jealous out of his mind. Puts a stop to it ASAP he's like "OKAY WE WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. ACTUALLY ONLY I WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. KIM LET'S GO!"

When Jean comes into the picture and starts arguing with/berating Harry, he's about ready to turn it into an all out brawl right there in the cafeteria, but Kim is like "HEY! You ass! He's been very helpful this whole time! Just because he's a drunk and he smells bad doesn't mean shit!"

Harry has heart eyes.

The tribunal has the injuries reversed, Kim gets shot and Harry gets the concussion and needs to keep Kim alive. Harry, who has been trying to sober up during the case for Kim's sake, takes speed to allow him to stay up to monitor Kim's health and as soon as Kim wakes up he's like "great! fantastic!" and passes the fuck out.

The whole thing with the Phasmid is the first time where Harry nerds out over something and not Kim. And Kim listens. And Harry probably cries because like, it's something he's allowed to like that isn't related to WORK and someone actually cares about what he is like when he isn't DETECTING and it helps him feel like a person rather than the Superstar Cop.

(Right after his rant on cryptids, Kim goes on a tangent about his cool camera and tells Harry every little thing about it and they just. Nerd out together).

[changelingsandothernonsense]

I'm curious, what are Josh's preferred alcoholic drinks? Would he like to rank them?

Helloo! Josh most certainly has a ranking system and very strong opinions on what can be found in both Morrowind and Skyrim (and may have committed crimes as a result of disliking a particular type of mead). So without further ado.

Best of the Worst- Smashing Edition!

You want my opinion on liquor? Mate, no one asks me my opinion on liquor... I mean I have opinions on drinks... a lot of opinions on drinks it's just I got told I was being a dick about it so I...

No you know what, fuck it! Here's my top an bottom fives.

5. Best- Shein

I'll be honest, I find Shein to be mid as far as drinks go. Then again, I'm pretty sure I prefer something with a flavour profile that can be described as "Dwemeri Oil" because I can't taste shit so take my opinion with a grain of salt. Shein skews a little bitter an sour if I remember rightly an it's not overly strong. It's 'ight in a pinch, yeah? But I wouldn't order it if there was other stuff on the menu.

5. Worst- Ancient Dagoth Brandy

Look, this shit's been sitting in a blight infested hole for the last five thousand years. You can believe Neloth an that fucking Ash Vampire all you want about how "developed" the vintage is but I'm always gonna come back to how it makes me feel like fucking shit! I don't drink to feel like shit, I drink to not feel like shit. So it's shit!

4. Best- Flin

I'm partial to the odd import from the heartland an Flin's one of them. It's a whisky that appeals more to Dunmeri pallets than that of Imperials but because of the old tariffs it's expensive as all fuck! If you can get your hands on it, it's worth the buzz. I can't really speak for anything produced now but when I was younger an could still taste shit it had a smooth, smokey flavour. Doesn't wack out your head so much either. 4. Worst- Greef

An your Morrowind equivalent... if you can really make a comparison. I was never a fan of anything that was comberry forward and greef is like you got a bush of the shit an threw it in a wet barrel for six years an... actually I think that's just how you make it. Point is that I started drinking it when I was like 15 coz it's cheap as all fuck. I don't know how that equates to how men age but it's like early adolescenceish. Anyway, point is I drank so much of the stuff that I was spewing for the whole next fucking day. Shit gives me a headache almost immediately these days. I'll drink it only if I'm desperate.

3. Best- Wine, just wine!

It's hard for me to find shit I like in Skyrim and Cyrodiil. Mostly because they keep insisting on mixing everything that isn't mead with milk an that's a fucking disaster waiting to happen! My go to in the lands of men is wine. It gets me sloshed an goes down well enough. I've noticed Nords like jazbay grapes but I've always found they turn shit a little... weird? I don't know how to explain it. Usually i'll order an imported wine to avoid the addition of that ingredient. Get's me nice an drunk relatively quick so that's a good enough reason for it to be here. 3. Worst- Emberbrand Wine

This isn't because it's bad, necessarily, quite the contrary if I'm honest. Like sure there's that jazbay weird going on but um... This is on my shit list because it's a bit too potent, if you know what I mean? Like I shouldn't get two cups in an start feeling an urge to commit arson, yeah?

Give it a skip if you like sleeping in your own bed.

2. Best- Sujamma

There's a reason sujamma is a popular drink back home an that's because it does a few key things- One it fucks you up well an good an two it makes you feel like you're on top of the world. Sure it fucks with your magicka but who the fuck cares when everyone sounds less fucking annoying an you feel like you could mount a wild Alit. Um... don't try that.

Geldis makes a pretty fantastic version of it. Pretty much every clan has their own recipe, so sujamma from Blacklight tastes different from what you'll find in Narsis. Regardless, it's always a treat.

2. Worst- Honeybrew Mead

Look, I just don't fucking like mead, okay? It's weak as all shit an I need like half a keg to get the same buzz I'd get after a few glasses of sujamma. That means I'm spending too much money to get my hit, an if you know me you'll know I hate having to spend fucking money! I hear that mer generally don't like honey wine an I'm no exception. Maybe I'd feel different if I could still taste sweet things but considering I pretty much choose what I drink based on mouthfeel an how quickly any beverage can get me sloshed mead just comes up short every time. At least honeybrew doesn't remind me of warm piss which is like the worst crime you can commit in my opinion. I'd still choose this over my worst option...

Best- Matze

What isn't there to like about matze? It's a smooth drink that goes down easily an can be infused with whatever the fuck you want. It's a type of saltrice wine that some westerners compare to beer but like it's not any sort of beer I've tried. Beer tastes like piss, this doesn't. My favourite is a brew infused with jasmine flower an strained until the liquid's clear. You pair that with like some choice grapes and a steaming bath an a good book an you got yourself an evening. Matze, like sujamma is cheap as all fuck an each region back home has their own version of it. It's potent enough that you don't need much to make you feel like you're on top of the world an it's cheap enough that you can supply a whole group of idiots to join you on that alit mounting adventure I mentioned earlier. Still don't recommend trying to mount an alit though. What Erra's good at is not the kind of shit I'm good at, and probably not what you're good at either.

You want to know the quickest way into my bed, buy me a round of this. 1. Worst- Black Briar Mead

I don't want this, I don't know anyone who fucking wants this! If you want this I seriously have to fucking question your taste in literally everything! Not even Sydari likes it an she's the whole reason this shit's flooded every inn in fucking Skyrim! Look, Miluth likes gold more than liquor an I like liquor more than I like breathing so... you know. I remember when she dragged me to the brewery there whilst doing an inspection for the Guild and left me on a "Tasting Tour". That was mistake number one. I've always been really um...vocal to her about my dislike of Nordic swill but I didn't think anything could be as fucking bad as what's in this shitty blue bottle right here! I tasted enough varieties to tell you that I was still sober after an hour an I was fucking livid about it. Then I was given this reserve an I was beside myself! I seriously thought I was being fed piss. So I thought I would do a bit of an experiment, yeah? I pissed in an empty bottle coz even if you're not getting sloshed this shit still goes right through you an I just placed it back into the shelf. I never intended for the guide to pull it straight from the shelf an feed it to the fucking brew master who was possibly the most miserable looking s'wit I've ever met! I'd never laughed so hard in my life! Anyway I'm not allowed back in there an if you ever feed me this shit I'll do the same to you!

[indilaras]

crossdressing haitham x bi disaster cyno, inspired by this post! I also put in some not-so-sneaky references ehe

ID: a drawing of Cyno and Alhaitham from Genshin Impact. Cyno is the only one fully colored; he is blushing and wide eyed, with an exclamation mark and three hearts in pink, purple, and blue around him. Alhaitham is not fully colored save for his eyes, and there are seven of him in various clothes. Unless specified otherwise, he keeps his soundproof earpieces. On the bottom left corner, he is in a dress, with flowers in his hair. Above that, he is wearing a hijab with a brooch, and he is tapping his chin, looking aside. On the top left, he is wearing a sweater, a long skirt, hair clips, and rectangular glasses; he's smiling and has stacks of books in his arms. On the top middle, he has much longer hair and does not have his earpieces, and he is winking; there is text pointing at him saying "wig #1". Below that is him wearing clothing inspired by female Eremites, holding the handle of a hidden weapon. His hair is slicked back. On the top right, he is in a shoulder-less dress and thigh-high garters; he is sitting with one leg over the other, holding a cup of wine. Below that, he is holding a mug with steam coming out of it, smiling and looking up; his earpieces are off, his hair is shoulder-length, and the text pointing at him says "wig #2". On the bottom right, he has on a looser hijab, a long-sleeved long dress, and glasses. He has his hand up, adjusting his hijab. End ID.

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: The Spartan & The Freelancer...

In the less-than-sparkling confines of the UNSC frigate Inflexible, the ambiance was about as welcoming as a tax audit. The room's lone light flickered like it was deciding whether today was a good day to finally die, casting irregular shadows over the two figures leaning against opposite walls.

John, Master Chief to those who preferred not to get too chummy, had taken up a position that suggested casual indifference but was really just the most strategically advantageous spot in the room. Across from him, Agent Washington or "Wash" for short, seemed to mirror John's casual slouch. The title 'Agent' always felt a bit ostentatious for someone who spent his formative years tripping over his own feet.

"You know, Chief," Wash began, breaking the silence with the ease of a man used to talking to himself, "I always figured if I met a Spartan, we'd be duking it out over the last piece of pizza, not swapping war stories."

John's helmet tilted slightly—a Spartan's version of raising an eyebrow. "Pizza is a serious matter. But yeah, sharing tales from the trenches wasn't high on my list either."

Wash smirked, his tone lightening. "Glad we agree on the pizza. But seriously, being the underdog? I was practically the poster boy. My squad had a betting pool on how I'd mess up next."

John shifted, the faint whirr of his armor filling the small space. "We all start somewhere. The point is climbing up from that rock bottom. Makes standing at the top feel earned, not given."

"That's one hell of a climb though," Wash chuckled, the sound rich with irony. "My first mission was a disaster. I was known by my squad as the guy who took a grappling-gun to the balls." John’s laugh was a low rumble, almost lost beneath his armor.

"...Yeah, I specialize in the 'accidentally heroic'," Wash admitted, shrugging. "Makes life interesting, at least." John’s stance relaxed as he leaned back, the reflective visor hiding his eyes but not the thoughtful tone in his voice. "It's the unexpected victories, the ones you scrap and fight for, that stick with you. They teach more than any training drill."

"Speaking of drills," Wash mused, "ever feel like they just make up those exercises to see if we’ll actually do them?""Wouldn’t be surprised," John conceded with a grunt. "Half the time, it feels like we’re part of some grand experiment. Which, technically, we are."

Wash nodded slowly, his voice dropping a notch. "And trust... that's the hardest part. I've seen teams fall apart over less than a misfired blaster. But when you find that group, the kind you can trust with your life—"

"—It changes everything," John finished, the weight of his words felt rather than seen. "Makes a soldier into a guardian."

"Guardians with a penchant for causing trouble," Wash added with a wry grin. "Or stopping it, usually by causing more in a different direction."

John’s laugh was more pronounced this time, the sound bouncing off the metal walls. "Sounds about right. Makes for a good story, at least."

The alert from the console chirped, more a reminder of reality intruding on their brief respite. The two stood, their movements a symphony of clinks and clatters, armor meeting armor."

Guess it’s time to add another chapter to those stories," Wash said as he picked up his helmet, the lines of his face set in a determined, yet amused expression."Lead the way," John responded, a note of camaraderie in his voice as they moved toward the armory, their steps in sync. "After all, what's life without a little chaos?"

[steddiebbang]

in the heat of the summer (you’re so different from the rest) | Explicit | 60k

Author: @strangethetimes

Artist: @xandriumbat

Beta Reader: @steddie_steddie

[Link to fic] |  [Link to art]

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Minor Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler, Minor Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson & the Party, Minor Steve Harrington & the Party, Minor Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson.

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Erica Sinclair, El/Jane Hopper, Max Mayfield, Wayne Munson.

Tags: Post-Season 4, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Falling in Love, Sort of Slow Burn, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Mental Illness, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Suicide and Suicide Attempts, Implied/Referenced Period-Typical Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Eventual Smut, Top Steve Harrington, Bottom Eddie Munson, Summer Vacation.

Trigger Warnings: Implied/Referenced Mental Illness, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Suicide and Suicide Attempts, Implied/Referenced Period-Typical Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse.

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

Around the third time the trailer got vandalized, Eddie had something of a meltdown. Over a year had gone by since his name was cleared, but the people of Hawkins still hated him and the thought of leaving was just that. A thought. It was getting to be a bit too much — suffocating, actually — and he told Steve that he had to escape. Even if only temporarily.

And that was the thing about Steve, he made things happen. More than that, he had a good track record for blowing Eddie’s expectations out of the water. He snagged the key to his family’s lake house in upstate Michigan and told Eddie that it was theirs for all of August.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to agree to. Spending an entire month with the guy he had a huge crush on? In a beautiful waterfront cottage, no less? It was a recipe for disaster as much as it was an alluring siren’s song, but Eddie wasn’t really known for his sense of self-preservation.

So, for the next four weeks, he had to try and keep his wayward heart on a tight leash (or risk ruining his friendship with Steve forever). But, through bonfires and bed sharing, through county fairs and karaoke, through sunbathing and skinny dipping, it wasn’t going to be easy.