#He has three brain cells on a good day

[machinemonstrosity]

hjust a qusetion but , would you consider writing for the minions of mafioso's...... im really fond of them freaks << 3 3 33 .

WARNINGS - NONE , silly headcanons for mafioso's henchmen , technically not an x reader but i don't know how else to tag it

a/n - i didn't know what to write since there's nothing about these guys other than one render......i'll write more next time, i promise! working through mobile sucks so i apologize if the image sizes and qualities are bad.

Mafioso's henchmen act like goofy cartoon villain sidekicks. While they can be serious and will get the job done, most of the time people are wondering how they even got into the mafia in the first place. They're a capable group of minions — just not the best in terms of scare factor.

To conceal their actual names, they nicknamed themselves with numbers. They also thought it sounded cooler.

ONE (1)

Out of everyone who tried to puff out their chest to claim the title, 1 received it due to being the oldest and most skilled of the group.

He's the most reasonable and level-headed of the henchmen, although that doesn't mean much. They all tend to bounce the same brain cell around like a game of hot potato.

The most stubborn when it comes to the gang's shenanigans and plans. Yet every time, without fail, he'll still cave and tag along. “Can't let the rest of ‘em get in trouble without me.” As he says.

He doesn't really express as much emotion as the others, but he will crack a noticeable smile or chuckle on occasion. Catching 1 letting out a full-on laugh is rare, normally only being something that happens with the rest of the minions. You're doing something right if he laughs around you.

TWO (2)

King of being competitive. Will absolutely take every small achievement or victory of his as a challenge to do better, especially if it's other people's. It happens to be playfully mutual among the others.

2 beats everyone at knife fights. Including 1.

He has a tendency to be the instigator of chaos. When they're inevitably caught causing a ruckus, all fingers are instantly pointing to him. Everyone still gets punished for it despite the snitching.

The tallest of the group. The running joke is that the tophat is the only reason for his placement on the height chart.

THREE (3)

The loudest of the group and the first to humor a terrible idea. That crowbar is always itching to be used.

3 is very short-tempered. He was unofficially banned from handling interrogations as the result of a group vote. The incident still isn't discussed to this day and is somehow still hidden from Mafioso.

Normally the last to show up for duty. This guy is an absolute night owl and stays up until the early hours of the morning. 

Magically, laundry duty always falls onto 3. Very cruel magic that has the other henchmen giggling and smiling like kids in a candy store. Laundry day rotations are basically nonexistent now.

FOUR (4)

Being the youngest of the group, 4 is a certified rookie. It gets him picked on sometimes, but it's all in good fun.

Surprisingly, he's only the second shortest of the group.

One of the most unconvincing gang members the world has ever seen. 4 is friendly to a fault, having gotten into multiple sticky situations in his naivety. His inexperience is sympathized with, but the boys are trying their hardest to toughen him up a bit.

No matter how many times the henchmen get asked about why they joined the mafia, 4 is the only one who never gives an answer.

Around you, the boys would be total sweethearts! They have one rule: if the big boss is alright with you, it's a pass in their book, too. Whether they were ordered to or not, they'll insist on keeping a careful eye on you and ensuring you're safe and sound. Escorts and free lunch are your new normal.

It may be a bit overbearing at times, but their hearts are in the right places.

Just know it won't be them answering the call if you get hurt. At that point, they're only the messengers.

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

“𝔐𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡… 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔶 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔞𝔭 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢… ℑ’𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔱” (hope yall get this ref)

Nam gyu x reader x thanos

Smoking weed with thangyu :3

Warnings: weed, smoking it, I don’t think they are crazy toxic in this one actually, kind of a poly relationship but not like officially in words? Idk, pre game/ no game AU bitch I have no clue. If you don’t like weed/aren’t comfortable pls don’t read and pls don’t judge 🙏

A/N: this is for me basically. I just thought this would be funny and I haven’t written in like 2 or 3 days and I wanna get back into it bc I miss it IDK😭 and these two are my favorites. America is geeking out and I’m stuck with it for 4 years so to cope imma write abt smoking zaza w squid game characters.

Also these are head cannons I just wanted to have that lyric as the title lol

_______

- dream and nightmare rotation somehow.

- I feel like smoking with them starts out chill ASF. Maybe yall start back at home and roll up, the three of yall cramped together on the couch.

- thanos is chilling at the arm rest end of the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he meticulously distributes the goods evenly on the paper and rolling it to perfection. He even knows how to make those cute pattern filters. He repeats this process a few more times

- you are in the middle, crushed between him and nam gyu. Your head is nestled right on his shoulder blade as he works, and your right arm is looped through his left. No matter how many times he does it, you still always comment on how he’s “faster than last time” or that he’s done a great job. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it

- and then nam gyu is PRESSED up against you. One arm is clutching your torso as he practically lays on you, and the other is reached all the way behind you to rest on thanos’ back. His hands are never ever still so he’d be lightly tapping a rhythm on your skin as he waits impatiently

- once thanos is all done it’s time to smoke 🙏 now here’s some actual stoner HCs. I’ll make it short

Thanos: I wouldn’t say he’s a light weight bc he can get super high and be SET. But he just gets super high every time. Somehow he glitched out of high tolerance hell. Also he is a joint hog >:( ik it’s infuriating to try and get him to pass the fucking joint. Prolly uses it as a mic. Smh.

Nam gyu: has to smoke a lot to get high. Like eventually he gets there but he has to smoke one together with yall (bc he wants to be included) and one for himself. Bro gets sleepy, HELLA. Don’t matter indica or stativa. Honk shoo mimimi. I would say it makes him not keep his hands to himself but when has he ever??? Be prepared.

Together: world’s most stoppable duo. Literally whatever brain cells they had die. They are hanging off each other, laughing at genuinely anything, they don’t make any fucking sense, and to make it all worse they reek but tell each other they don’t. Once they’ve smoked they like to hit the streets together, maybe go clubbing :3 ends in 14 arrests idek

- they don’t skip you in a rotation EVER. They take their system serious asf. It’s always been thanos, you, nam gyu, repeat. And they will be dammed if you don’t get your hits in. They insist on shot gunning it to you (and each other but you ain’t hear that from me)

- they will never say no to more, three joints is just TO START. They got bongs, pipes, carts, brah everything

- they are extra sweet to you when smoking weed. Very cuddly, keeping you between them and then holding each other. You are literally trapped that way. And they keep looking at you with hazy eyes…

- hungry bastards. Usually they get food to eat before and then they can partake after. Sometimes they take you out to like a street vender for a cheap munchie session.

- not often tho. They like you keep you inside and away from other people. They like having you curled up between them, looking at them with glassy eyes, smoking the weed THEY bring you. Thanos and nam gyu are really possessive guys so they like moments where it’s literally just you three chilling.

- they be talking about the most random shit if all time. If yall remember the shower thoughts trend, that’s just the shit they say.

- they the typa guys when high to ask if you’d still love them if they were worms

- (you said yes and that you’d make a little compost bin for them to live in. They liked it)

- compliment city!! “Baby you’re so pretty” from nam gyu and a “don’t look away señorita, i wanna see you” from thanos.

- they hold hands with you.

- if you happen to green out they are with you in the bathroom. Nam gyu will hold your hair if you throw up and thanos is getting water and setting up for bed.

- tbh not all smoke seshs end in getting freaky, but it’s high in likelihood. Bc like cmon. They are freaky. And sometimes the weed be weeding. And they love you, and each other.

- but sometimes they end in just yall cozied up together in bed, rambling abt random shit, holding each other tightly as smoke clings in the air.

_______

Idk I just thought this was funny. I think the world would be much better if politicians talked shit out over a fresh J imma be real. America is hell.

[yokumirumerafan]

Saiki. K Characters x reader

So I figured there's not enough fic about these cuties, and I should add more interesting shit to my writings cuz they're getting way boring day by day; so here ya'll go (if there's anyone like Merafan on this planet of course who actually simps for these guys and watched the show ;-;)

🧠 SAIKI KUSUO (THE RELUCTANT LOVE INTEREST™)

You somehow manage to get this man flustered despite the fact that he can literally read your thoughts. How?? He has no idea. But every time you look at him with that soft little smile, his brain just goes: "Error. Error. Malfunctioning."

He'll pretend to be unbothered, sipping his coffee jelly while you gush over something cute. But internally? He’s screaming.

You ever think about kissing him? Good luck because this man will literally TELEPORT AWAY before you even finish the thought. One time you tried to surprise him with a hug, and he just blinked out of existence. 💀

"Saiki, be honest, do you like me?" "No." "Okay, so if I start dating someone else—" "You will be vaporized."

The only reason he tolerates his friends dragging you along on their dumb adventures is that you’re the only person who doesn’t actively cause him migraines.

He swears he doesn’t get jealous, but if Teruhashi even thinks about flirting with you, this man will LITERALLY put up a psychic barrier around you. 💀

😎 KAIDO SHUN (THE CHUUNIBYOU BOYFRIEND™)

This man will write you a whole-ass love letter but disguise it as a "coded message from the Dark Reunion." 💀 "My dearest Y/N, the forces of darkness have their eyes on us… but do not fear, for as the Jet-Black Wings, I shall protect you with my very life—" Saiki, reading it telepathically: "You are so embarrassing."

If anyone flirts with you, he will literally step in front of you like: "Hmph… pathetic. Do you not realize you're talking to the lover of the great Jet-Black Wings?" Random guy: "Huh??"

If you ever praise him, his brain short-circuits. "Y/N THINKS I'M COOL. Y/N ACKNOWLEDGED MY POWER. I MUST TRAIN HARDER."

You jokingly call him your "dark knight", and this man DOES NOT SHUT UP ABOUT IT FOR A WEEK.

💪 NENDO RIKI (THE HIMBO KING™)

Nendo has exactly three brain cells, and all of them are dedicated to loving you.

He will just randomly give you gifts. A rock? A slightly squished sandwich? His left shoe? "Here ya go, babe. Thought of ya when I saw this."

Once tried to carry you everywhere like a princess. Saiki had to telepathically stop him before he threw out his back.

Calls you the goofiest nicknames like "sugar nugget" or "love muffin". You cannot stop him. Ever.

He 100% thinks holding hands = engaged and has ALREADY planned your wedding in his head.

💁 TERUHASHI KOKOMI (THE QUEEN OF "OH?!"™)

She was used to everyone falling at her feet, but when you treated her like a normal person, she was like: "HUH??? EXCUSE ME???"

But now she’s obsessed with you because you actually like her for who she is, not just her looks. She’s literally blushing and twirling her hair every time you speak.

She tries to act like the perfect "goddess," but you’ve SEEN her lose her cool, and she’s mortified. One time, she stubbed her toe and went "GAH, SON OF A—" in front of you and almost DIED from embarrassment.

Gets jealous so easily. Some rando smiles at you? She’s already plotting their downfall while keeping her angelic smile on.

"Oh?~ You like someone else?" Cute giggle *"Haha, just kidding" but she’s gripping her glass so hard it’s about to shatter.*

👓 AIURA MIKU (THE CHAOTIC BESTIE/GF™)

She LOVES teasing you. Randomly leans in all close like she’s gonna kiss you, then pulls away last second like "Oops, did I make your heart race?~"

"Babe, lemme do a fortune reading for our love life!" And then she rigs it so it says you’re soulmates. 💀

If she sees someone getting too friendly with you, she just slides in like "Hiiiii, babe~ who’s this?" and stares them down.

Random late-night dates where she just texts you: "Meet me outside in 5, don’t ask why." Then you end up at some beach looking at the stars while she cuddles you like "Told ya this would be fun~".

👔 TORITSUKA REITA (THE WALKING RED FLAG™)

This man SIMPS for you so hard but in the most CRINGE way possible.

Sends you texts like "Hey babe, wanna see me do a kickflip? 👀" and then immediately texts "nvm broke my ankle."

Tries to show off, but it backfires every time. Like, he’ll be like "Hey Y/N, watch this!" and then trip over his own feet.

If you call him handsome ONCE, he will NEVER LET IT GO. "So you think I’m hot? 👀 Don’t worry, babe, you can admit it."

The only time he’s ACTUALLY useful is when ghosts are involved. Otherwise, he’s just your dumbass fanboy boyfriend who worships the ground you walk on.

⚔️ KUBOYASU AREN (THE EX-DELINQUENT HIMBO BF™)

This man is the definition of "I am a reformed man… but I WILL still throw hands if necessary."

He tries to be a soft, chill boyfriend, but if someone so much as looks at you funny, his delinquent instincts activate. "Babe, I swear I’m different now—" "Aren, put the bat down." "…No."

Blushes SO easily. You grab his hand? Red. You kiss his cheek? Red. You call him "cute"? DEAD.

One time you joked about liking "bad boys," and he got SO TORN between staying reformed and going back to his delinquent era just to impress you. 💀

He’s the type to act all tough, but the moment you do anything remotely affectionate, he melts. "I ain’t some soft romantic guy." "You literally held my hand and skipped down the street yesterday." "…Shut up."

Protective AF. Like, he’s trying SO HARD to be a good boy, but if he ever sees someone bothering you, he has to physically restrain himself from roundhouse kicking them into next week.

Loves dumb couple stuff but refuses to admit it. Matching hoodies? "That’s lame." (He’s already wearing it.) Holding hands under the table? "Unnecessary." (His grip tightens when you try to pull away.)

He texts you the most contradictory things: "Babe, I’m a man of honor. I don’t do cute pet names." [5 minutes later] "Good morning, sunshine muffin 💖."

One time Nendo flirted with you as a joke, and you had to PHYSICALLY HOLD AREN BACK before he drop-kicked him across the classroom.

Gives you his jacket 24/7. Even if you’re not cold, even if he’s the one freezing, you’re wearing his jacket because that’s just how it is.

If you get hurt, he PANICS. "IT’S JUST A SCRATCH, AREN—" "WE’RE GOING TO THE HOSPITAL."

Dumbass delinquent love language: Will ruffle your hair aggressively as a sign of affection but then complain when you do it back.

Randomly confesses again even though you’re already dating. Like, you’ll just be chilling, and he’s like "Hey. Just so you know… I love you, alright?" as if you forgot. 😭

Secretly a huge cuddle bug. But only when no one else is around. Will literally trap you in his arms and be like "You’re mine now. No escape."

Tell me if this was good <33

[gojonanami]

SIT IN MY LAP - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you and satoru take your daughter to see santa at the mall, and satoru proves that he's just as much of a match for his daughter, as he is for you. ✴︎ contents: fluff, domesticity, satoru being a cute girl dad, crack, innuendo, daughter's name is satomi, implication of pregnancy, wc -> 1,350

Satoru Gojo was blessed in almost every single way — from his cursed technique to his looks, but the thing he was not blessed with was patience. 

“We have to wait how long?” Your husband grumbles as you two wait in seemingly a line longer than the Nile itself all to take for your precious daughter to take a picture on Santa’s lap. 

“I don’t know how long, Toru, it’s probably going to be 45 minutes at least,” and you swear he pouts more then your three year old does, “Santa is very busy this time of year, isn’t he, baby?” You ask your sweet daughter and Satomi only grins up the two of you, after she insisted on standing on her own. 

“Very busy,” she repeats, and Satoru softens for a moment before he sees the long wait still ahead even as the three of you round another corner of Santa’s miniature workshop they had built in the middle of the mall, “Daddy gotta wait with us!”

“Why can’t Daddy go to the car and take a nap instead?” He grumbles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Because daddy has to be in the picture with Santa, otherwise you’ll end up on the naughty list,” and his lips curl, “and not the good kind of naughty list,” you add in a whisper. 

“Daddy has already been naughty!” Your daughter exclaims as Satoru stares down at her dumbstruck. 

“What?” 

“You ate my pancakes this morning,” she huffs, and you stifle a laugh at Satoru’s indignant expression 

“I took one bite—“ but her glower said she did not care, “only three years old and already turning on me,” he mutters, “who carried her this entire time around the mall when she didn’t wanna walk? Doesn’t that earn me some points?” 

“Well I think you’ve been a good boy, aside from the impatience,” and he’s sporting a glower similar to your daughter now, as you giggle between the two of them, “how about this? We’ll all have a treat when we go home if the two of you behave,” and you lean to whisper in Satoru’s ear, “and if you’re a really good boy, maybe I’ll sit in your lap tonight,” 

And he perks up at your words, eyes raking over you, “And are you going to tell me what you want for Christmas?” 

You kiss his cheek, warmth blooming where your lips touched, “I think you know,” 

And a small blush settles over his cheeks, even as he grins shamelessly, whispering, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Definitely not,” your lips skim his outer ear, drawing a shiver from him. 

“Daddy are you cold?” Your daughter notices, but you scoop her up in your arms. 

“Daddy is running a little hot I think,�� you chuckle, as you watch him try to adjust himself, his tight pants doing little to help his situation, “he’ll be fine, right?” 

And he pouts again, “I’ll be fine,” he presses a kiss to his daughter’s forehead, “can’t say the same for your mom when we get home,” 

Finally, after many brain cells lost and almost an hour of time, you reach the front of the line. “Santa” sits in his chair, looking quite jolly, despite having to deal with children all day, and he welcomes your daughter, who, for all of her spunk when dealing with her parents, now was hiding behind your leg. 

And before you can say anything, Satoru is kneeling beside her, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He’s running his fingers through her soft white locks, “do you want daddy to go with you?” 

And she considers it, lips in a cute pout that’s all too similar to her father’s, and then nods, “daddy, come with me,” 

“Of course, baby,” and his fingers intertwine with her smaller ones as he takes her up. You hang back a little, your phone ready and poised to take pictures and a video, as you beam. 

Santa holds your daughter as he asks her what she wants for Christmas. Your daughter says something half whispered that you can’t make out, but Satoru does, his cerulean eyes widening slightly before his lips curl into a grin. 

And before you can ask what she said, you’re pulled in to take a picture. You three leave, Satomi in her father’s arms, nestled on his shoulder, peacefully sleeping, “what did she wish for?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

He snorts, “Sworn to secrecy by Santa,” 

“What’s that? A hidden confidentiality clause?” And he only smiles, as you roll your eyes, “pun definitely not intended,” 

“I’ll tell you when we get home. Too many prying elves here,” he jerks his head at one of Santa’s elves sitting on a bench, clearly on their break with earbuds in either ear. 

“I don’t think they care about a three year old’s wish,” and Satoru’s lips part and eyes comically big in mock offense. 

“This is not any three year old — she’s the next Gojo heir, my successor, the fruit of my—“ and you glare, “our loins,” 

“More like mine,” you cross your arms, tilting your head as you glance at your daughter, “you’re not the one that pushed her out,” 

“Yes I’m the one who put her in there—“ and another scowl makes him clam up, smile bit back, “I’ll tell you when we get home, after I get you on my lap that is,” he adds with a grin. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t know if you’ve been so nice though,” and his free arm slides around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead, curling his lips. 

His voice low as he murmurs in your ear, “The real question is if you have been, baby.”

And finally, when Satomi is fast asleep in bed — arms and legs tangled in her blanket like a menace, you emerge from her bedroom, sighing, “finally down,” you collapse on the couch beside him, lying your head on his shoulder, as his arm wraps around you, pulling you close, “are you gonna finally gonna tell me what she wished for?” 

And he hums, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Sit in my lap, and see,” and you tilt your head, but you slide over his lap, sitting with your knees on either side of his waist, “good girl,” 

“Satoru—” and he’s kissing you slowly, lips meeting yours in a languid kiss and you can taste the sweet hot chocolate on his lips he drank earlier. 

“Been waiting to that all day,” he murmurs, gaze leaving a trail of heat as it slid over his body, and his hands follow, squeezing your hips and making you lurch against his hips, “definitely on the naughty list from that noise,” he grunts. 

“Weren’t you supposed to tell me what Satomi wanted?” You mumble against his lips, as they meet again, before pressing kisses down your jaw and the hollow of your throat. 

“Oh, we wanted the same thing,” and you raise an eyebrow, and he’s grinning up at you, “she wants a sibling,” you breath catches — both at his words and at his darkened gaze — and you can feel his erection press against you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your sides, “wanna make a Christmas wish come true?” 

And your heart flutters, “do you think we’re ready?” You had been talking about possibly having another kid, Satomi was getting older — ready to start school soon enough — and you wanted your daughter to have a sibling to grow up with. 

Satoru’s gaze softens, his palm sliding across your cheek, as you lean into his touch, “I know we are — as long as you want it to,” and you can almost see it now — a little boy with Satoru’s blue eyes and your hair, nights spent up with the baby, days spent as a family, the baby sleeping on Satoru’s chest as you do Satomi’s hair, and another piece of your family complete. 

So you kiss him, lips sliding gently against his, and you smile at him, “Luckily, you both knew exactly what I wanted for Christmas.” 

✴︎ note: i don't celebrate christmas, but i got this cute fic idea in my head and i couldn't get it out lol. i love girl dad satoru.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.

Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola

Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot

Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none

Word Count; 4.6 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~

Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.

Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child. 

“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.

Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.

What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.

Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.  

The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.

“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.

“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.

Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.

“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.

Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine. 

The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.

“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.

After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open. 

Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.

Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.

You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.

…

…

…

By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.

You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word. 

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”

Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.

The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.

The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.

“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”

Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.

Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.

The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”

Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.

With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.

“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.

…

...

By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.

Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.

You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.

But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.

… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.

Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.

| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends  | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

| Mama’s Boi | Yeah, I’m down | What time? | . . . | And what’s fiid?

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Ginger, derogatory | IT WAS A TYOP | *TYPO | I MEANT FOOD | F O O D

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?

| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me

| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!

That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.

…

Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.

“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”

Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”

He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend? 

“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.

Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.

He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.” 

You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.

“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”

Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.

Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.

You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.

Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.

You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”

Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies. 

“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”

You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”

Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”

Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”

You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up. 

Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!

You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.

“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison. 

You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.

You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.

But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.

The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.

Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…

Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.

“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.

You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.

You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place. 

All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.

Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.

When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?

He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.

And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!

...

...

...

...

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.

If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Happy Songkran!

Not sure, but a few of the Thai shows may be impacted by New Year this next week.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

April 2025 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 24 end - Can you believe we made it through 24 episodes (like this is 2014 or something)? Anygay...

The single brain cell committee trying to put together The Proposal was kind of funny. I do think that of all the couples to get married this is the one that shouldn’t. They are the least healthy, but what can we do? 

I knew from the get-go that I was going to struggle to figure out how to rate this show. Twice as long as most other BL’s and with 3 fully represented main couples, played by pairs that I have mixed feelings for. Thus I have to go straight down the middle. I would’ve given our first story a 7/10, our second one an 8/10, and our final a 9/10, which brings us in at a solid 8/10. Frankly, that feels like that’s what this show was, about 80% of a good BL.

Conclusion

This was workmanlike Thai BL in a university setting in which nothing happened to some very nice boys in fun friendship groups. The most noted thing about the show was its source, GMMTV punched down and phoned it in with this one. The kissing was good, the pairs were decent, and the directing was... well it was there. Each of the three main couples turned in solid performances to the best of their respective comedic abilities. Your enjoyment will wholly depend on which pair/story is most to your taste and how much you managed to tolerate the others (and the sides) as a result. I highly doubt this will ever be anyone's favorite BL. 8/10 is a fine rating for something this mediocre. Puts the B in BL.

Top Form (Thurs WeTV) ep 4 of 10 - Drunken shenanigans and their consequences. Especially when the boy is obsessed with you. (Meanwhile, the hair in the eyes is driving me batshit.) I'm still enjoying this. It’s sort of old-school BL in a very odd way. I like that. Especially with nothing out of Japan right now. The 21 day courting was cute. And of course I loved the linguistic negotiation. But he’s definitely gonna catch that cold.

Oh the HONEY.

I forgot this part was coming. ARGH NO too sticky!!! The carnage. The clean up. Twas sexy tho.

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - Whipping boy trope is a go. But also this dentist is so gone on this broken sunshine with self worth issues. The dorky earnest friend is good too. Enjoying.

My Golden Blood (Weds iQIYI) Ep 5 of 12 - I just can't. It's too awful. I did try. DNF.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Heesu in Class 2 (Korea Fri Viki) eps 5-6 of 10 - I love this show. Love. It. The catastrophic trip. Heesu being an utter frenetic basket case. The PINING from Seungwon and the fact that we all know he isn't ever gonna do anything (unless some one forces his hand lips). It's fantastically maddening.

Secret Relationships (Korea iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - Ooo truly unhinged. Excellent. Honestly, I just feel sorry for Da-on with all these boys obsessed, even our puppy. And now the "kidnapping for love" trope. Very old-school. China used to adore this one. It's nto my favorite but it suits this show.

Business as Usual (Korea Thurs Viki) Ep 2 of 7 - Mostly back story not a whole lot happened. Looks like we are in for a meaty confrontation next week tho. Good.

Fight for You (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 12 - I don't mind a fake dating trope, even if I'm not sure how we got here. Actually, this has gotten oddly cute. I like them more as they fall in love and flirt and drink than I do as solo characters. 

Exclusive Love (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - more death. Not enough of blondie. And none of my beloved sides? Bah. 

It's airing but......

Sashes and Hearts (Pinoy YT) 13 eps - Philippines is doing Drop Dead Gorgeous only all gay boys queening their asses off. Doesn't interest me, not sure if it's BL.

Last Meal Universe (Thai ????) 8 eps - An alien who has come to destroy earth instead falls in love with Thai food and then the Thai boy who cooks it - realistic, actually. I got a link to watch but it still wouldn't work for me, so I guess I'm waiting to see what happens.

Lost in the Woods (Weds Gaga) 7 eps - Not my thing, dropped at ep 2.

Boy Next World special - only available paid, so I didn’t bother.

Your Sky of Us - Normally, I don’t really report on the specials or the extras or even the spinoffs or season twos, but I gotta say in episode 2 Lee’s claiming sendoff was one of my favorite things to happen in BL this year. That silent "back off" was so perfectly executed. Most of the rest of this special has been just fluff, but it might be worth watching the whole thing just for that 30 seconds. (Sorry couldn't find a gif of it, but TRUST ME. Chef's kiss!)

In case you missed it

Secrets Happened on the Litchi Island (China YouTube) - This one unexpectedly dropped and there are still a few follow up snippets/adverts continuing with this couple.

Summary

This was an interesting, beautifully atmospheric but plotless BL about a boy who falls in love with his older brother‘s best friend in an idyllic countryside jungle setting. The boy is quite femme and open about his identity but his lover is... not. This dynamic ads an element of queer authenticity that's often missing from all BL, let alone something from China! I don’t know what it actually wanted to be, but it felt like a BL had a love child with one of those weird Chinese relaxation farm propaganda channels. The kisses are great, the chemistry is lovely, and the setting stunning. It’s odd but charming in a very weird, very queer, way. I have to say, I quite enjoyed it.

As a BL it gets an 8/10 from me, but as a piece of queer cinema I actually think it's worth more than that. You should all watch it. Who knows how long it will be allowed to stay up on YT.

Next Week Looks Like This:

COMING IN APRIL

4/16 Something Is Not Right (Korea Weds Viki) - trailer Blueming spin off. Ba U and Hun have been friends since they were kids – but Ba U has harbored unrequited feelings for Hun for years. Eventually, Ba U tries to cut off his entire relationship with Hun, much to Hun's confusion. In a last-ditch attempt to get over his feelings, Ba U takes his friend's advice and asks Hun to date for a single week. Hun accepts.

4/19 Secret Ghost (Thai Sat Viu) ?? eps - The trailer dropped and it looks particularly awful.

4/20 Boys in Love (Thai Sun YouTube? ) 10 eps - Our only true high school BL from GMMTV this year and it's fresh faces for the youths and old favs for the teachers. It's milk teeth Make it Right and fine with me. I like lotte milk. Also DIMPLES! Yay! I suspect they are using this one to test pairs for future shows. Like a Project 101 Thai BL. (Honestly I just invented an amazing reality TV for you GMMTV, you're welcome.) Like My School President in 2023, this could be a major sleeper hit for me.

4/20 My Stubborn (Thai Sun ????) ?? eps - trailer Mflow's next high heat office romance involving best friend's younger brother, boss meets intern, bit of a love triangle, GL crumbs, and few other tropes.

4/25 My Sweetheart Jom (Thai Fri YouTube) 12 eps - trailer Saint is back in a BL, but this is what he chose? When he gets int rouble, Yothin needs to find a safe place. Instead of sending him overseas, his father sends him to the countryside. There, he is under the watchful eye of the village headman Jomkhwan.

4/26 The BangkokBoy AKA Bangkok Boys AKA The Bangkok Boy (Thai Sat ????) ?? eps trailer - Action, crime and revenge meets gangs, mafia, and more. Oh my.

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Well that bit from Your Sky of Us with Lee's nonverbal MINE of course.

Yes I liked it more than the honey, honey.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[ladykailitha]

Eddie Lives!

Here we are at the final day of celebration! Thank you all who have followed along with me and sent me all the asks.

Sorry I didn't end up doing the headcanon asks, but I've done a lot of headcanons in the past and I still had a bunch of asks from WIP Wednesday so I hope you weren't too disappointed.

Summary: Steve hauls Eddie out of the Upside Down and now is forced to wait until he wakes up from his coma. A million seconds. But who's count? Steve.

Also this is loonnnng. Like longer than I would normally put in one post, but I'm taking my hiatus starting tomorrow and I really don't want two stories hanging over my head when I already have the dream soulmate one that I'll still be putting out.

~

March 27th, 1986

Steve woke up in hospital, his sides, arms, and back completely bandaged and one angry Robin glaring at him.

“It’s a good thing you fainted after getting Eddie to the hospital,” she growled. “But that doesn’t excuse from fainting in the first place. You were septic! You could have died!”

Steve grimaced and said, “But I didn’t?”

She glared at him harder. He wasn’t sure how she managed it, but somehow she managed to look even angrier then before. “Yet! I haven’t decided if I forgive you or not. So you still might end up on the Missing; presumed dead list yet!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, glowering.

Robin launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. “I thought I lost you, dumbass!”

Steve sighed and held onto her just as tight. “It’s gonna take a lot more than an evil wizard and all his minions to keep me from you.”

She pulled back and looked at him, tears streaming down her face. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he swore. “Now, tell me about everyone. And I mean everyone. Even if it’s just we don’t know yet. I desperate for news.”

“First off,” she said sitting back down with a sigh, “we only know that El is alive because she piggybacked on Max to take out Vecna, but we don’t know if the others are with her. Max is alive. She has two broken arms and one sprained leg, but they have her in a medically induced coma for the shock. Lucas and Erica ran afoul of the Three Stooges, Jason, Chase, and Andy, but Lucas managed to kick his ass and get the headphones on Max before the damage was done.”

“Assholes,” Steve growled. “Once I’m out of here, I’ll kick all three of their asses personally.”

Robin snorted and cocked her head to the side. “Jason’s dead, the bastard. A vine burst through the Upside Down and bisected him. So yeah...Erica is still insisting that was the most traumatic thing she’d every seen.” She went on to tell him about the whole event in the Creel house attic.

“May he rot in hell, then,” Steve said fiercely. “I’ll just kick Chase and Andy’s asses then. Jesus fuck, Andy needs to be in jail or something. Psycho.”

“Agreed!” Robin crowed. “So they’re all okay. Dustin busted his ankle, the idiot, trying to get to Eddie. Everyone else is fine.” She paused for a moment. “Which I guess is just me and Nance.”

“You’re avoiding talking about Eddie,” Steve said bluntly. “Did he—”

“We don’t know yet,” Robin said waving her hands back and forth. “He’s in surgery. Still. But! He’ll be in here with you! If–I mean when he gets out of surgery.”

“Robin...” Steve warned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

She sighed. “I hate it when you’re the one with the brain cell. It’s so annoying.” He glared at her until she folded. “Fine. They aren’t sure he’ll survive the surgery and that if he does, he’ll make it twenty-four hours before succumbing to his injuries anyway.”

Steve let his head drift back onto the pillow and pressed his lips together, he let out a shuddering sigh and then another. “I want to be angry. Or even sad or surprised. But I’m not, I’m more surprised that either of us made it to here if I’m honest.”

Robin sat in the crummy plastic chair and let that sink in for a moment. “Yeah.”

Steve drifted off to sleep to the sounds of Robin breathing and the beeping of his own heart.

~

March 28th, 1986

They wheeled Eddie in at 3:27:09 in the morning. Steve had been awake before that, dozing in and out of consciousness when the nurses came in with Eddie all bandaged up.

The first thing Steve noticed was that they hadn’t touched his hair. It had merely been pulled out of his face so his neck was clear for them to operate. The next thing he noticed was that his hands were free of any harm, just a couple of nicks and cuts, but no real damage.

From what Steve could make out craning his neck, it seemed the most of the damage had been to his neck and torso. Which was good, that was where Steve had concentrated his first aid efforts. It was nice to see he had been right.

The sound of Eddie’s heart monitor lured Steve back to sleep.

~

Steve woke up the that morning and looked over to see that Eddie was still not awake. He sighed. He knew that the doctors didn’t have faith that Eddie would last another day, much less wake up. But he had to believe.

The alternative was just too horrible to bare.

Robin was there first thing in the morning, hugging him dearly. “Have they said anything about how the surgery went?”

Steve shook his head. “They’re waiting until Wayne gets here.”

They didn’t have to wait for too long as Wayne showed up not long after Robin had. The doctors soon afterwards.

“I have to admit, your nephew is one tough son of bitch,” the doctor said, cocking his head to the side and then shaking it. “Every time I thought I was going to lose him on the table, he would come back even stronger. We have him in a medically induced coma to help him heal that damage. He looks like one of those kids from the news only eaten instead of their limbs being broke.”

“That’s horrible,” Wayne said, his brown eyes filling tears. “Will he wake up?”

“That’s up to him I’m afraid,” the doctor said solemnly. “If he manages to stay stable for six to seven days, then we will take him off the medicine and let him come to naturally.”

Steve breathed a sigh of relief at that, and Wayne did too. Eddie was a fighter, no matter what the Upside Down tried to teach him, he stood his ground when it mattered most.

But most importantly, something the doctor said made the hamster wheel in his head, start turning.

Robin eyed him critically as Wayne and the doctor talked about treatment options and how the next few days were going to look for Eddie.

As soon as the doctor left, she rounded on him. “All righty, Steve. I can smell your hair burning from here. What’s got you thinking?”

“The doctor thinks that Eddie was one of the serial killer’s victim,” Steve said slowly, “Max too, I bet and since they were brought in together, so if they say that it was...” he paused for dramatic affect and both Wayne and Robin leaned forward in anticipation.

He cocked his head to the side, “Say, Jason Carver?”

Robin slapped his arms. “Holy shit, Steve that’s perfect. Carver’s dead, both Max and Eddie are in coma’s. Lucas and Erica would totally agree to say it was Jason.”

“One problem,” Wayne said, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “You’re not going to get Andy and Chase to turn on him.”

Steve grinned like a hyena. “Oh but I know I can. I’m pretty sure the threat of prison for the torture of one Gareth Hughes would be stellar incentive to say that Jason made them do it.”

Robin and Wayne shared a glance. Then Wayne looked over his shoulder at his nephew. He turned back to Steve.

“Yeah, son,” Wayne said slowly. “That about sums it up. I’ll let Hopper and that Dr. Owens know and get the ball rolling. The only reason he’s not in cuffs right now is the police don’t know he’s here, not with so many people injured, missing or dead thanks to that earthquake.”

Steve looked over at Eddie. “And the faster we move the less time he’ll be in handcuffs, better if it’s no time at all.”

~

March 30th, 1986

They released Steve two days later. He didn’t like it, he tried to protest that he would be better taken care of there at the hospital, but was told that they really needed the beds. They were letting go anyone who wasn’t critical and could manage without much help. Which unfortunately meant him.

So with Robin’s promise to help him change his bandages twice a day, Steve signed the release forms.

Then he strolled right back up to the reception desk and signed in as a visitor. The receptionist glared at him, but couldn’t turn him away. But she did make him wait.

“We are putting someone else in that room,” she huffed. “So you’ll have to wait until the nurses are done getting it set up.”

Steve blinked at her for a moment, slack jawed and then he nodded and sat down in the waiting room.

Robin came up to him and sat down beside him. “You do know that Wayne is in there watching him? You could go home, get a shower and come back.”

Steve blushed a dark red and hung his head. “I know and I should but I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll be bombarded with people wanting things from me when all I want to do is be here, for Eddie and Max.”

“Oh.” Robin blinked at him for a moment and then put her head on his shoulder and took his hand in hers. “I know it’s hard when everyone is pulling you different directions and you feel like you can’t say no, but you really can. Tell them no. Tell them that from visiting hours you are otherwise engaged and that if they want something that they can wait until afterwards.”

Steve sighed and rest his head on top of hers. He knew she was right but it was so hard. He just wanted to do something good for a change, and staying with Eddie felt like that was that.

“I’ll stay here,” she promised. “Hold down the fort and will call you if they let us back in before you get back.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. “And you’ll help me with the bandages again?” he asked chewing nervously on his lip.

“Of course I will,” Robin said and gently pushed him off her. “Now go!”

Steve got unsteadily to his feet. Robin snorted and shook her head.

“And maybe a nap you dork,” she huffed. “And don’t give me that BS about needing your bandages back on, I know you’re a stomach sleeper. And it would be good to let the water dry before getting back into your car.”

Steve blushed deeply and then nodded. He shambled off to his car and then got in. He braced himself against the wheel and tilted his head back. He wasn’t sure he should even be driving. He knew he shattered but didn’t want to leave Eddie behind.

Suddenly there was a tapping on the window. Steve startled and looked the window to see who had scared the shit out of him. His jaw dropped and scrambled back out of the car, throwing his arms around Hopper.

Hopper grabbed his face and sobbed happily. “I heard you got hurt and feared the worst, but you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“And you’re alive!” Steve whispered back. “I think that’s the greater miracle here.”

“I’m okay, Steve,” he said with a wobbly smile. “So is everyone else. Joyce, Mike, Will, Jonathan, El, and even Jonathan’s little stoner friend. I’ll tell you all about it later, you looked like you were heading somewhere.”

Just then Steve’s knees buckled and Hopper was forced to catch him before he fell. “Or maybe you should be back in the hospital, kid.”

Steve shook his head. “I literally begged them to stay, but there are too many people who need beds and I’m low priority.”

Suddenly he felt a warmth infuse his bloodstream and he was a little less exhausted. He looked over Hopper’s shoulder to see El standing there in an all white jumper wiping a bit of blood from her nose.

“Supergirl!” he cried and she joined in the huddle. “I’m glad you’re all okay.” He kissed the top of her head. He could feel the weight being lifted off his shoulders now that there were actual adults in town.

Hopper turned to El. “Hey, sweetie, would you tell Joyce and the boys that I’m going to take Steve home and will be right back?”

El nodded. “I’m glad everyone made it out okay,” she whispered before she slipped out of their grasp to do as she was told.

“Come on, kid,” Hopper huffed, “let’s get you home.” He gruffly got Steve into the passenger seat and slid into the driver’s seat.

The wheel hit his knees. He snorted and spent a good while adjusting everything so that he could fit in the damn car. As he pulled out of the hospital parking lot he cursed, “This is why I prefer trucks.”

“Maybe after this all blows over we can get me one,” Steve murmured from where he was pressed against the glass of the window, almost asleep.

Hopper looked over at the now sound asleep Steve and shook his head. “Yeah sure, kid. Whatever you want.”

~

Hopper manged to get Steve showered, rebandaged, fed, and into bed with very little fuss, though he could tell that Steve was clearly worried about the Munson kid. And after getting the story from him he could see why.

He decided he was going to make a short pit stop on the way back to the hospital. Maybe with the Ghost of Chiefs Past, he might be able to scare them into dropping the charges on Eddie Munson.

He knew the kid, better than he would have liked to admit; having bought weed off of him a time or too many. But Munson was as dangerous as a roasted marshmallow. He might appear hard on the surface, but he was soft and gooey on the center.

So Hopper strolled into the police station and no one stopped him. Probably thought he was ghost. And maybe he was. He hadn’t felt alive in a long time. Not since Sara died. Yeah, sure, the Upside Down and El had pulled him out of a funk. Joyce, too. But feeling alive?

He couldn’t say that for sure.

The door to his old office was open.

Good.

He strode right up to the desk, slamming his hands on the desk and growled, “Boo!”

Calvin Powell let out what could only be called a shriek. Then he saw who was standing there in all his six foot three inches of not dead Jim Hopper glory and shrieked again.

“Miss me?” Hopper said gruffly, a slow grin taking over his face.

“But you’re supposed to be dead!” Powell cried.

Hopper stood up and slammed the door shut, then he pulled up a chair, flopping in it. He put his boots up on the desk and settled into chair, locking his fingers together over his belly.

“The news of my death has been grossly exaggerated.”

“You’re actually alive,” Powell said breathlessly. “Holy shit. Where have you been?”

“A Russian prison fighting monsters from another dimension,” Hopper said with a grin.

Powell stared at him. “Uh, okay. Um... yeah. So how long have you been back into town?”

Hopper glanced at his watch. “Five hours, seventeen minutes and roughly twenty-three seconds.”

The sound that escaped Powell sounded like a cross between whine and a whimper, much like air being let out of a balloon.

“Oh.”

“So Cal,” Hopper said dryly, “I’ve been hearing some very not good things about how the police have been run while I was dead.”

“Now see here!” Powell said leaping to his feet. “You don’t know what’s been going on, kids being murdered in gruesome ways, other kids run around trying incite a mob, and even more kids trying to be cops. I’ve had my hands full!”

Hopper licked his lips slowly and examined his finger nails. “You’re even dumber than I thought.”

“What?”

The look on Powell’s face was comical. He looked like a fish out of water.

“You put Rick Lipton in jail for a start,” Hopper said shaking his head.

“He’s drug lord!” Powell huffed. “Of course I put him in jail.”

“Yeah, so who’s supplying the drugs now?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“No one!” Powell cried out, his breath starting to quicken. “That’s the point!”

“See? That just proves how dumb you are.” Hopper shook his head. “Drugs were found in the Munson trailer, right? So where did they come from if Lipton was in jail?”

Powell’s jaw dropped.

“You were so concerned about the murder that you didn’t look into anything else,” Hopper growled. “I used to be like that until that Byers boy. But killing the snake you know just invites snakes you don’t to fill the gap. Also what do you really have that proves Eddie Munson did any of the killings?”

Powell frowned and slowly sat down. “How do you know about that?”

“For fuck’s sake Cal,” Hopper growled sitting up, waving his arm. “It’s all over town. I’ve heard it from four separate people and I’ve only been in town for less than a day.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’!” he snapped. “You only have the word of two traumatized kids that he, what? Levitated them, broke their bones and gauged out their eyes? You want to know what that sounds like to me?”

“Drugs?” Powell whispered, hanging his head.

“Drugs, Cal!” Hopper bellowed. “And I hear you let that Carver kid just take over the town meeting and he damned near got the whole town after someone who you had no evidence of wrong doing? I’m even willing to bet that you don’t even know that Munson is in the hospital in a coma from being ripped apart. You want to what I think?”

Powell let out a shuddering breath. “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.” He settled back against the chair.

“Sounds to me that someone has been killing these kids in a ritualistic murders,” Hopper said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Munson is just one of the victims not the perp. The kid doesn’t have a wicked bone in his body. I don’t know who I’d pin for it, but not him.”

“He deals drugs to high school students,” Powell said, ticking things off on his fingers, “he repeated his final year of high school twice, his dad is in prison and who the hell knows where his mother is? Probably drugged up in a ditch somewhere. Wayne Munson never graduated from high school. He plays that game. The ‘kid’ as you call him is a bad egg, Jim and you know it.”

“Weed,” Hopper huffed. “He sells weed. I’m gonna bet that the other drugs that were found weren’t enough to sell, probably only samples.”

Powell got up and went to his filing cabinet and pulled out the Munson file. He opened it up and proceeded to flip through it. He muttered the amounts and then let out a sigh.

“I wouldn’t even consider them samples,” he huffed, handing the file to Hopper. “They’re barely enough personal use.”

Hopper looked through the file, slowly and methodically. “You ain’t got jack shit and you know it. Were you really going to railroad this kid on so little information? Like this would barely make it past Mac’s desk let alone a fucking jury.” He slammed it on Powell’s desk. McKenzie Peterson was a hard-nosed district attorney who had gone after former mayor Larry Kline with both barrels.

“So what do you expect me to do, Jim?” Powell asked. “They’re baying for my blood and want answers now, not later.”

“Your fucking job for a start, Cal,” Hopper said standing up. “Find out who really did it. Because it sure as hell ain’t Eddie Munson.”

He walked out the door, leaving a defeated Sheriff Calvin Powell in his wake.

~

April 2nd, 1986

Over the next couple of days, between the efforts of Hopper, Dr. Owens, and Wayne, the police department posthumously declared Jason Carver the killer and the town got to focusing on healing and rebuilding their town.

Steve spent everyone moment that he could visiting Eddie and Max, the hospital putting the two of them in the same room.

Which helped assuage Steve’s guilt about wanting to make sure Eddie woke up and being their for Max.

So every day Steve watched both of his friends. Everyone else came through on a rotation, Wayne being the only constant. Lucas had wanted to spend everyday with Max, but his parents insisted he go back to school.

The basketball team refused to look him in the eye and the Hellfire Club had been disbanded, permanently.

Well, all right Nancy and Robin were fighting to get it reinstated, but for now it was dead in the water.

On the fifth day, Max opened her eyes. And after several tests, they determined that she would see again, but with needing glasses.

“Great,” she huffed. “Now I’m going to be a nerd.”

Lucas burst out laughing. “Welcome to club.”

Steve could tell she wanted to cross her arms but couldn’t with them both in a cast.

Soon enough, Susan had gotten everything ready for Max to come home, and the hospital released her at the end of the week.

Steve stopped one of the nurses as Susan wheeled Max out to her car.

“Who’s going to replace Max in Eddie’s room?”

He didn’t want it to be some stranger who’s family might not appreciate Eddie’s presence in their loved one’s room.

“No one,” she promised. “We’ve been able to clear out a lot patients to other hospitals or sent them home. We don’t need to double up any more. He’ll be able to have the room to himself.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief. “That’s great. Yeah, really great news. Thank you.”

She nodded and then went to help Susan get Max into her car.

He let out a shuddering breath and went back into Eddie’s room. After making a pit stop for the trunk of his car, that was. He knew that even with the press and the police saying Eddie was innocent that certain people might take exception to that. And he was going to protect Eddie at all cost.

~

April 5th, 1986

Steve stopped at the door when he saw someone he didn’t know.

“Uh, this room is off limits if you aren’t on the approved guest list,” Steve growled, moving slowly toward the lamp in the corner in case he needed to defend Eddie.

The man, or rather kid turned around. He was black kid wearing a Megadeth t-shirt. His hair was neat shaven and Steve could tell he had an easy smile.

“I think I’d be more concerned that you’re on it, Harrington,” the kid said, cocking his head to the side, “then me being here if I’m honest.”

“I’m the one who resuscitated him and brought him barely breathing to the hospital,” Steve said with a sneer. “So you if you don’t tell me who you are I’m gonna start screaming.”

The kid held up his hands. “Jeff Lawrence I’m in Hellfire and Corroded Coffin with him, you know, his band?”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “The other guitarist, right?”

Jeff blinked at him for a moment and then huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, man that’s me. I’m not as good as Ed, but I do alright.”

“I’ve only heard him play once,” Steve said with a shrug, coming further into the room. “And that was a six minute song that came out only three weeks ago, so if he’s more impressive than that, then he really should be selling out stadiums, not playing to five drunk dudes every Tuesday.”

Jeff stared at him in wide-mouthed shock. “Holy shit. How do you know so much about him?”

Steve moved to the other side of Eddie’s bed and Jeff’s body moved to keep him in his sights. “I’ve been soaking up whatever information Wayne or any of the kids have been able to tell me.”

“Kids?” Jeff’s confusion only cemented more and more with each word out of Harrington’s mouth.

“Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler,” Steve said with a shrug, picking at the blanket draped over Eddie like a shroud. “I think they’re all in Hellfire with you guys.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeff said. “I know them, but how do you them?”

Steve raised his head and Jeff was struck by how haunted Steve looked. His eyes had bags under them, his cheeks were shallow, and his clothes hung off him.

“Man, what the hell happened to you?” the words were out Jeff’s mouth before he could even think not say them.

Steve looked at him slack jawed for a moment before he realized what Jeff was asking. “Oh! Eddie and I were both mauled by the same animals, so I’m getting over my own injuries. I just wasn’t bad as Eddie was so I got released a couple of days ago.”

“Maybe they should readmit you, dude,” Jeff said cocking his head to the side. “Because man, you look like shit.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “I’ll bounce back, I always do.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Jeff said pulling up a chair and sitting in it. “So back to how you know Eddie’s lost sheep...”

“I’ve known them since they were barely middle schoolers,” Steve huffed with laughter. “Mike Wheeler is my ex’s little brother and they’re friends with Jonathan Byers’ little brother, Will. You know, Zombie Boy?” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean. Like it wasn’t as though he was actually dead.”

“You’re different than what I thought you’d be,” Jeff admitted. “I thought you’d deny knowing them if I’m honest. Because those kids talk about nothing else but how cool you are. But you straight up defended them like a mama bear. I like that.”

“Oh!” Steve said, the light coming back into his eyes even just a little. “I get it. Bit of an ass in school, couldn’t possibly be the hero the kids described. I’m not sure I believe half the stuff I’ve actually done to protect those little shits and I did them!”

“There was the pack of wild dogs...” Jeff said, listing off the things they’d brought up.

“True,” Steve said shaking his head. “But that was because Dustin brought home a baby one and thought he could raise it on his own.”

Beat.

“It ate his cat.”

Jeff leaned forward, eyes wide. “No fucking way?!”

“Oh yeah,” Steve continued deadpan. “And then I had to help the little shit track it down when it escaped from his basement. Never getting a dog after that, man.” He shuddered a bit.

“Yeah okay that’s fair,” Jeff said, settling back in the chair. “What about t-boning Billy Hargrove’s car because he was about to run over a couple of them?”

“Don’t even regret it,” Steve said shaking his head. “Dude was a real asshole. Like the genuine article. Piece of shit. May he rot in hell.”

“Amen.”

Jeff looked at him for a moment. “So you were in the mall fire, too, huh?”

Steve nodded, fussing with Eddie’s blanket again. “Concussion number three.” He held up three fingers.

“Shit, dude,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “How many have you had?”

“If we include being hit in the head as baby, four that I know of.” He cocked his head and then nodded. “Yeah four.”

“What were the other two?” Jeff asked, even though he knew he really shouldn’t. It wasn’t any of his business. But here was King Steve sitting vigil next the bedside of his very comatose best friend and he was compelled to find out why.

“Jonathan Byers, junior year,” he half shrugged. “I deserved that one. But I was very upset and wasn’t thinking, I just wanted to hurt him the way I felt I had been hurt.”

Jeff could tell there was more to that story than what Steve was telling, but this time he really wasn’t going to pry. It was clearly too personal.

“And number two?”

Steve looked him in the eye and Jeff felt a fierce protectiveness coming from like the mama bear he had compared him to when Steve had walked in ready to fight him off.

“Billy Hargrove went after a friend of mine,” Steve growled, “because he was black boy daring to talk to his step-sister.” He tilted his head to the side. “Hargrove not the kid. I fully believe that if I hadn’t stepped between them, Billy would have straight up killed him. I had him on the ropes, too. The bastard cheated.”

Jeff snorted. “Yeah, how’s that?”

“He took a plate and smashed it into the side of my face,” Steve said, then shoved his tongue into his cheek.

“Wait...” Jeff huffed. “I think I do remember that. You came to school the following Monday looking like someone had dragged you face first into hell. And Billy stayed clear of you after that.”

“Yeah.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment.

Jeff’s eyes drifted to the far too still form of his best friend. Eddie Munson wasn’t meant to be lying in a hospital bed, still as death. He was supposed to be jumping on tables and climbing things he shouldn’t.

“How long has he been here?”

“What day is it?” Steve muttered, wearily.

“Saturday the fifth,” Jeff supplied. He briefly wondered what kind of life Steve was living that he didn’t even know the day of the week.

“Eight days, twelve hours, seventeen minutes,” Steve rattled off and then he looked at his watch. “And 52 seconds.”

“And you’ve been keeping him safe the whole time?” Jeff breathed, leaned forward again.

Steve shook his head. “I was out of commission for a couple of days, but as soon as I could, I put myself between him and those that would hurt him.”

“Why?”

Steve frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Why are you throwing yourself into danger for a guy you barely know?” Jeff asked frowning back. “Like, you two are opposite sides of the cliques in high school. Hell, I know you were on the basketball team and that’s one of Eddie’s favorite topics to rant on. I don’t think the two of you had even spoke more than ten words together and now you’re swearing fidelity like some knight taking an oath from his king.”

Steve cocked his head to the side as he regarding the other boy. “He was the first person who treated me like a whole person and not just someone they could get something from. Even if that thing was protection or friendship. He saw me when everyone else just saw that jerk in high school. I gave all that up my junior year. Like I had almost a year and a half of not being that, but everyone makes excuses for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘Oh don’t mind him, he’s a reformed former jock’, ‘He’s a little dumb, but he means well’, ‘If it wasn’t automatic, he’d probably forget to do it, but he’s really good at hitting things, that’s why we keep him around.’”

Jeff’s breath caught in his chest. “And these people are your friends?”

Steve let out a snort of laughter. “They have other qualities that endear me to them, yes. But there was no judgment with Eddie. I think it was because he recognized someone who had been counted out again and again and decided he wasn’t going to add to the shit pile. So yeah, I would walk into hell for him.”

“Orpheus and Eurydice.”

“With a less tragic ending,” Steve whispered. “I hope.”

“Me too, man. Me too.”

~

April 8th, 1986

There was a knock on the door to Eddie’s hospital room.

Steve stopped from where he was reading “The Last Unicorn”. They had just gotten to the gypsy encampment.

He turned to the door where Amanda was peering around the door in at him.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she said with a sad smile. “But it’s just that visiting hours are up. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Steve looked down at the book with a sigh. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll just be a minute and then I’ll clear out.”

She nodded. “Just don’t forget to sign out this time. You forgot yesterday.”

He gave her a jaunty salute and she laughed. She shook her head and closed the door behind her. Steve turned back to look at the still sleeping Eddie.

Because he was sleeping now. He had long since been taken off the medications that kept him under.

Long.

Steve snorted. As if it had been weeks or even months since they removed the tubing. It had been roughly four days. But it felt like an eternity to him. Because the long Eddie stayed in the coma, the less likely he would ever come out of it.

He started packing up his things and throwing away the garbage that had built up as he read to Eddie.

They all took turns reading to him as the doctors said that he could hear them. They all tried to read to him from the same book as to not confuse him with too many plots, but Wayne would read the newspaper to him. As if he was keeping Eddie up to date on all the happenings in town. As if Eddie would care.

Maybe he would.

Steve wouldn’t really know.

He shouldered the bag and walked over to the bed. He had been allowed to wash Eddie’s hair in a basin so it wasn’t a rat’s nest, so it was soft as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” he murmured. “They want me out of here. I don’t know why visiting hours end at five, not with most people getting off work then, but they won’t bend the rules for anyone. Not even your uncle. Which I thought was rude. He’s your flesh and blood. He should be able to visit you any time he wants.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his brow. Like he had the last two nights after talking to Jeff. After the comparison to the Greek myth, Steve come to realization that yes, he was in love with Eddie. And that he had been bisexual for a really long time.

Only this time as Steve pulled away, he found that he was looking into the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Eddie?” Steve breathed.

“Steef?” Eddie mumbled back.

“Holy shit!” he said gleefully. “You’re awake! I have to the tell the nurses. But it’s so good to see you awake.”

Steve looked at his watch and the time read 5:13pm, he would have to do the math later. But Eddie had been asleep for almost two weeks.

He pounded on the call button.

Suddenly the room was being flooded with nurses as they responded to the call. They began fussing with Eddie’s equipment. Steve bounced on his toes for a moment and then rushed out to the pay phone.

He rummaged around for change but he didn’t have any.

“Shit!”

He pounded the zero and let it go to collect then dialed Wayne’s temporary digs.

“Please state your name for the person to accept your call,” came the polite female robotic voice.

“Eddieisawake!” Steve huffed into the phone.

But instead of hanging up and not accepting the charges like Steve thought he would, the call went through.

“Are you sure?” came the clipped voice of very worried Wayne.

“Yeah,” Steve said, a little breathless. “The nurses are in with him now. He said my name, Wayne. He remembered who I was.”

“I’m so glad you were there with him,” Wayne said, his voice cracking. “I’m on my way.”

“Would you at least call Dustin so he can spread the word?” he said, his own voice starting to wobble.

“On it!” Wayne said. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye.”

Steve ran back into the room and skidded to a stop just steps into the room. It was just Amanda and another nurse topping off Eddie’s fluids and adjusting the bed.

“I should have known you’d do anything to stay longer,” Amanda teased over her shoulder. “But I didn’t think that you would go so far as to wake up my patient.”

Eddie and the other nurse chuckled as Steve turned bright red.

Eddie held out his hand to Steve and like a moth to the flame, Steve took the steps to take his hand.

“I made it,” Eddie said with a crooked grin.

“You absolutely did,” Steve confirmed giving his hand a squeeze. “I called Wayne, he’s on his way. He also is going to make sure everyone else knows you’re awake.”

Eddie nodded. “Is– I mean did everyone else make it out okay?”

“Yeah, man,” Steve murmured, petting Eddie’s hair to soothe him. “Everyone’s fine. More than, actually. Apparently Jim Hopper is alive. But Vecna for sure is dead.”

Eddie let out a huff of laughter that turned into a sob of relief. “You swear it? Everyone is okay?”

Steve squeezed his hand again. “Yeah, we just waiting on you to be dramatic and come to.”

Eddie’s lip quivered as tears ran down his face. Steve started whispering all the things that had happened while he was asleep, by the time he got to the part where Steve fainted after bringing him barely breathing to the hospital, Wayne had arrived.

Steve stepped back and let the two of them have a moment alone. He chewed on his lip a moment before deciding to go back to the waiting room.

Thankfully it only had a couple of people in seats so he was able to have his pick while he waited for his friends to show up.

He was grateful when everyone showed up, even Eddie’s friends and Chief Hopper.

“He’s awake and talking,” he said, standing up to meet them. “The nurses have looked him over and everything is normal. Wayne’s in with him now.”

Dustin ran into Steve’s arms. “Thank you so much! He wouldn’t have made it without you!”

Steve put his arms around him and held him tight. As much as he wanted to refute the claim, he knew it was true. His first-aid skills combined with literally carrying Eddie out of the Upside Down and getting him to the hospital was why he alive to fight to live in the first place.

“Yeah, bud,” he whispered.

“Whoa!” Wayne said, coming out of the elevator to see the assembled crowd. “I wasn’t expecting to see all’y’all.”

“The news spread like wild fire,” Mike said with a shrug. “He’s our friend. We all wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Wayne chuckled. “Only a couple at a time and don’t stay too long.”

They all agreed and it was decided that the Corroded Coffin boys went first as they had been his friends for longer.

They all chatted while different groups went to talk to Eddie.

While waiting for his turn Dustin sat next to Steve and just put his head on his shoulder.

After a moment or two he raised his head and frowned. “What’s wrong with your watch? It’s flashing.”

Steve hummed and then looked at the watch. “Oh that. I was timing how long Eddie was in the coma.”

“Why?” Dustin asked, his brow furrowing deeper.

“Something to keep my mind off why he was in the coma I guess,” he said with a shrug. “I was reading about how if the coma went on too long he might never come out of it and I–”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dustin murmured. “Something to ground you when it seemed all impossible.”

Steve worked his watch off his wrist to show it to Dustin. “It’s a got a little stop watch feature that includes days, so I’ve been counting on it. I stopped it when Eddie woke up.”

Dustin gently took the watch, know how important it was to Steve not to accidentally erase the time.

Then he just started laughing.

Everyone stopped to look at him in confusion. The other patrons were eyeing him, clearly annoyed.

“How accurate do you think this is, Steve?” he said when he finally caught his breath.

Steve shrugged. “I mean, as accurate as it can be, why?”

Erica got up and took the watch away from Dustin and then raised an eyebrow at Steve. “There’s no way this is real.”

“It is though,” Steve defended. “They forgot to take off my watch when I fainted, and when they wheeled Eddie in I pressed the stopwatch button. It’s not like there are three dozen clocks in this place, so I just never used it for that.”

“What’s going on?” Wayne asked as he stepped into the waiting room with Jeff, Brian, and Gareth.

“Eddie being as dramatic as possible,” Dustin huffed with a giggle.

Both of Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. “And how’s that?”

Erica tossed him the watch which he caught.

“Eddie was in a coma for eleven days, thirteen hours, forty-six minutes, and 40 seconds,” Dustin said with a grin.

Wayne looked confused as everyone else good at math groaned.

“That dramatic asshole,” Jeff sighed.

“Anyone want to fill the rest of us in?” Robin said dryly, arms crossed over her chest. “For us people in which math was a struggle?”

“Eddie was asleep for one million seconds,” Mike said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wait, what?” Steve said, cocking his head to the side.

“That’s how long Eddie was asleep,” Dustin said. “He woke up after a million chances.”

“Knowing Eddie,” Gareth said, “he probably heard the words one in a million chance of surviving the night and his brain took that to mean a million seconds.”

Steve laughed brightly. “Yeah, that sounds like Eddie. Dork.” He shook his head.

“Ed is asking for you, son,” Wayne said to Steve. “He just wants to talk to Steve alone for a moment and then he’ll see everyone else.”

There were some grumbles, but Max pointed out that Eddie probably wanted to thank Steve for saving his life and didn’t want other people there to see him blubber.

~

Steve walked into the room to find that Eddie was lightly dozing. He had had a rough day after all. He came up and stroked Eddie’s hair, gently rousing him from his sleep.

“If you need me to go out there and tell them to come back tomorrow so you can sleep I will,” Steve said fiercely.

Eddie shook his head. “I want to see everyone, I’m just resting my eyes.”

Steve snorted. “Nice try, Bilbo, but I’ve seen that movie.”

Eddie broke out into a grin. “Should have known there was a secret nerd buried in you somewhere, Stevie.”

“Do you even know Dustin at all, man?”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “You have a point. But yeah, I wanted to talk to alone for a moment.”

“And here I am,” Steve teased, throwing out his arms.

“So Jeff and the boys were telling me that you were my personal bodyguard while I was under.” Eddie twisted the sheet in his hands nervously.

“I know too well that once someone sees you a certain way,” Steve said with a half shrug, “that you could turn into a hellbeast and they’ll treat you like you never changed at all.”

Eddie winced. “The whole asshole jock that everyone else seems caught up on? Even though you haven’t been that dude in literal years?”

“Right in one,” he said. “Though yours is a lot more dangerous to your continued survival and I wasn’t going to let them undo all my work to keep you alive.”

Eddie ducked his head and Steve could make out the barest hint of a blush.

“Is that the only reason?”

Steve reached out and covered Eddie’s twisting fingers with his own to still them. “Did you want another reason?”

“Some would consider it an act of true love...” he mumbled.

Steve brought one of his hands to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “That’s because it was. I love Nancy, I always will, but I know how bad we are for each other.”

Eddie raised his head and looked Steve in the eye for the first time since he walked into the room.

“You’d want to be my boyfriend?” he whispered in awe.

Steve laughed. “Yeah, Eddie. I’d like that a lot.”

“Yay!” Eddie said with childish glee.

“And when you get out of the hospital I’ll take you on a proper date,” Steve promised.

“It’s a deal, Stevie,” Eddie murmured, fondness just oozing out of every pore.

Steve pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “I’m going to get the next gaggle, okay?”

“Yeah, babe.”

Steve kissed him again and then gave his hand a squeeze, before leaving to do as he said.

As the kids went into see Eddie, Steve turned to Robin.

“You’re on the clock now, missy,” he teased her. “You have until a certain someone gets out of the hospital to be the first of us to go on a gay date. So you better ask Vickie out before then.” He winked at her.

Robin’s eyes went wide. “You sly dog! I can’t believe you got a boyfriend before I got a girlfriend. I’m going to hate you forever.”

“No you won’t.”

She sighed. “No I won’t,” she repeated, putting her head on his shoulder. “I’m happy for you, dingus.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

As he sat there in the hospital waiting room waiting for his friends to come back, he never thought he would find love after Nancy and his relationship blew up. Back then he would have told you he had a one in million chance especially here in Hawkins, but now?

It was the start of something beautiful, he could feel it. He had something to look forward to for the first time since the defeated Vecna. He had a date to plan.

~

Tag List:

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Tim Drake Fics On A03

These are my list of Tim Drake fics on A03. It has everything. Angst, fluff, funny sibling relationship, family fluff, The core four etc... There are few TimKon fics thrown here and there too. Have fun.

Tim Drake (Doesn't) Drink Coffee by BabblingBookends

Every year, Tim goes on a caffeine detox for a month and has to deal with the resulting withdrawal symptoms. He doesn't tell the rest of the Bats about this, because, uh, reasons!

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’

Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then-

‘Don’t tell Bruce.’

Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.

Play it Again by Jazz020

The manor feels too quiet without music. Tim and Damian bond over music.

Send to All by kerosceene

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

-

The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

This is on of the most funniest batfam fic I have ever read.

four brothers, one crush, and absolutely zero brain cells to be found by Ms_Trickster

Tim: i need to know what’s the best way to a boy’s heart 

Damian: Easy. The best way to someone’s heart is through their ribcage. Everyone knows that. 

Damian: Come on Timothy, I expected better from you. 

Dick: I-

Dick: Try again

-

Tim is having boy troubles.

Tim goes to his brothers for help.

Tim...did not think that plan of action through.

(In which the batbros give Tim advice on relationships, told entirely through texts.)

Their sibiling relationship is too damn funny.

Home by sElkieNight60 

“Why didn't you call home?” the Red Hood is scolding him, bizarrely making his head spin with how unreal everything suddenly seems. “Why didn't you call Dad? You've been missing for three days and he is losing his mind―he thinks you've been kidnapped again―everyone has been pulling double runs all over the city trying to find you! You fucking disappeared! Seriously, Baby Bird, give us one good reason why we shouldn't drag your ass back home right now and have Dad bench you until the end of all days!?”

The two vigilantes are staring at him equal parts furious and equal parts relieved, but there must be some kind of mistake, because:

“Who is Tim?”

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake

If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?

Excerpt: “Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.

“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.

“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date.”

Bloodlines by chibi_nightowl for exiled-one (mistralle)

“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.” 

Tim blinked. “My what?” 

“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.” 

“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”

No words. This fic is just mind blowing.

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

“You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer.”

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos 

"I'd be doing humanity a favor." Tim grinds out, "And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I've done worse."

Only A03 users can read this fic

Liberal Usage of the Bro-Code by heartslogos for protagonistically (the_protagonist)

“You’re never going to guess who’s blood is on my shirt – similarly, this is not my shirt but these are my pants.”

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Here's a Reminder (That You Haven't Fallen Through the Cracks) by popsunner

If it’s a salesperson, he’ll shove them a hundred dollar tip and tell them to go away, if it’s some religious do gooder, he’ll direct them to Metropolis. If it’s a Rogue, he’ll tell them he’s busy and to please get in the fucking line. If it’s one of his siblings--

“Hey, Tim!” Dick says brightly, forearm braced against the doorframe.

Dammit.

i totally don't have amnesia by impravidus for odd_izzy

Based on this john mulaney bit: “I also think it's weird in movies when someone has amnesia and they wake up in the hospital. A lot of times they'll be surrounded by friends and family, but when they open their eyes they go "Who are you?" Because that's not how you act when you don't recognize somebody. That's very rude. It would be chaos out there if every time you saw someone you didn't recognize, you went, "Who are you?" I always try to be really polite in life, so like if I had amnesia, you'd never know it. I'd wake up and they'd be like "Hi John, we're so happy you're awake." And I'd just be like, "Oh, hey, man, how's it going?", "Oh, hey, dude, nice to see you again." because that's how you act when you can tell that someone recognizes you and you have no fucking clue who they are.”

Detective Timothy Drake and the Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Dildo by JpegDotJpeg

Tim had a lot of experience with problem solving. Every goddamn day he was solving problems. There was no shortage of problems in Tim’s life. He’d learned how to deal with overbearing parents, underbearing parents, malfunctioning equipment, in-team conflict, lawsuits, emotional breakdowns, financial difficulty, broken ribs, ill-timed boners, and a whole host of other bizarre, anxiety-inducing, or life-threatening issues that plagued his existence.

None of them had prepared him for finding a dildo in the dishwasher.

I had so much fun reading this.

Little Overlooked Dreams by Lunette3002 for Marzue

Tim weighed his options. He was alone at night in some alleyway in Gotham. He had nothing except the clothes left on the ground by someone and the cloak wrapped around his skinny shoulders. His camera was nowhere in sight. His backpack was gone too.

He brought the device to his ear. “Hello?”

Whatever talking had been on the other end of the line immediately cut off at his hesitant greeting.

“Who is this?”

Family Photos by KelpieCodyne 

“I thought you quit your photo stalking?”

“In my defence, I never said I was quitting, and you never asked if I would,” Tim immediately counters. “So really, this is kind of on you.”

Just because Tim became a bat, doesn’t mean he stopped taking photos of bats. Several times Tim took photos of the batfamily, and one time they took photos of him.

One of my all time favorite fic. And only A03 users can read this fic too.

picture perfect memories by Fandom_Trash224 

“I… require assistance with something. I believe you are best-suited for it.”

Tim raises an eyebrow, but motions for the younger boy to enter his room. As Damian does, he slowly closes the door behind him, and Tim notices a small piece of what Tim assumes to be paper in Damian’s hand. Then, he realizes it’s not just a piece of paper: it’s a photo.

Damian approaches Tim, holding out the photo at arm’s length once he’s close enough to do so, saying, “I would like you to explain this photo to me.”

Tim glances down at it, and to both his surprise and mild horror, he recognizes the photo.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Biphasic Reaction by renecdote

People may have allergic reactions all the time and be fine, but they can also die from them. He has a flash of sudden, morbid curiosity about what the exact statistics for fatal allergic reactions are.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

miles and miles (in their shoes) by JUBE514

Where is Damian? Why can’t he see anything clearly? Where is the little brat? Damian had been by him in the cave when everything had exploded, they had been arguing like always when the two of them had gotten the punishment to go clean the trophy room, stop yelling at each other, stop being at each other's throat for two minutes and go clean the goddamn trophy room-

They had been cleaning, got into another knock out drag out argument, and it had come so close to blows and they had been screaming more than cleaning and-

The stupid fucking shoe, in the magical section- exploded out-

--

Tim and Damian switch bodies, the two of them realize exactly why the other does the things they do.

The Waynes, Damsels in Distress by hitthedeck

Roses are red, violets are blue, Bruce Wayne and his kids get kidnapped every other week. Some things are just universal, undeniable facts of life.

Or, in which Bruce Wayne is still Batman and his kids are still Robins, but they keep letting themselves get kidnapped because they think it's funny.

Have You Seen My Kids!? by Cute_Bear

Five Times Bruce's kids interrupted him as Bruce Wayne and One Time they interrupted him as Batman with the Justice League.

This is not Tim - centric, but it has really nice batfam fluff.

ten cents richer by Ms_Trickster

You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

That’s how the saying goes. Take enough punches from the universe and eventually it becomes harder and harder to pop back up, to see the worth in fighting back, to stop yourself from turning around and delivering some punches of your own.

Tim never wanted to become the villain—

“Appendicitis,” Tim breathed in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

—but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to burn the world to ashes when shit like this kept happening to him.

A Saturday Evening by malcyon

Jonathan shrugs, catches the expression still on Tim’s face. “We did throw out the cyanide.”

“Only because it expired.”

“Marty.”

“Well, it did.”

*****

Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.

unfurl by shipyrds

"Hey, Dick," Tim says. He's in costume, and fiddling with his gloves, but he doesn't remove his mask: nervous, and trying to hide it. "You've had sex with aliens, right?"

"I'm not going to like where this is going, am I?" Dick says, resigned.

"How did you deal with the whole. Junk situation," Tim says, in his best professional Mission Report voice. Its success is kind of undermined with how red his face is below the domino. — Tim asks some questions. Bruce and Clark come to some realizations.

The Conner Kent Conspiracy Board by Hayleythewriter

Tim figures out Kon’s feelings before Kon does.

His Baby by Musafir

Bruce once made Tim a promise that he would never break, just have to reaffirm later in life.

“Hi Tim. I’m Bruce and I am always going to be here for you.”

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone.

(If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks 

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time.

Only a03 users can read this fic.

charity by Valkirin for Ms_Trickster

The biggest downside of being adopted by Bruce Wayne is putting up with rich people events, including one where Jason will be in a room with a bunch of rich kids for a couple very long hours while Bruce goes to the adults' meeting. Jason is ready for a very bad time but the Drake kid listens to him from the start and keeps backing up Jason's ideas even though they've never met.

Jason warms up to Tim Drake long before Mad Hatter tries to take over the meeting and Tim backs him up again.

city of stars by lovelyre

College friends-to-lovers AU with Tim Drake.

This is Tim drake x Reader fic. Trust me its really good.

Tricks of the Trade by Jazz020

Jason and Damian learn about Tim's fool proof method of getting what he wants from Superman

Security Updates by Jazz020

Hal, Clark, and Barry find an unexpected guest playing with the watchtowers security.

Vacation at the Watchtower by Jazz020

A continuation of Security Updates

It may have been a mistake to let Tim stay at the Watchtower while he heals from his injury but the kid really needed to get away from his brothers.

“Wait, what if I go to the Watchtower with you.” “I don't think-” “It’ll be great. I'll even help out if you need me to. I'll be the best unpaid intern the Justice League has ever had.”

Birthdays by Jazz020

Bruce was always aware that Jack and Janet Drake were bad parents, but every once in a while they give him an unfortunate reminder.

Loss by Jazz020

Out of all of Tim’s self-destructive tendencies, it was his willingness to die for his loved ones that frightened Alfred most.

Sick by Jazz020

Tim’s never quite figured out the proper behavior for someone who’s sick. Instead of resting, he often makes his way to the Watchtower.

We Can Work It Out by blackash26, Tigrislupa

Damian endeavors to make up for his treatment of Drake and apologize properly; however, Drake refuses to forgive him no matter what he does. Tim does his best to deny, avoid, and ultimately deal with the fact that the demon brat has a crush on him of all people. (Pulling pigtails never felt like quite such an understatement.) Meanwhile, the rest of the family takes sides.

In all of this, there's only one thing everyone agrees on.

Don’t tell Dick.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

you'll never find a thing like today by remrose

"I'm just saying, I don't think I've ever been to one of these things that hasn't ended in explosions," Bart tells them, eyes on the crowds as he tugs at the ends of his cuffs.

To the Boy Who Called Yesterday by Shirokokuro

Bruce wonders when six-year-old Tim changed, when he shed that sad look he’s wearing now.

Or, perhaps, when he got so good at hiding it.

Cough syrup by Stardustwrites17

It’s the coldest night in the year. So of course Tim falls into the Gotham-fucking-harbor.

Featuring a worried dad, Tim's missing spleen, and of course, Tim battling with himself between being independent and letting himself be loved.

Chili dogs seasoned with tears by Robin_The_Robiner

Ever so slowly, Tim looked down at his plate. On it was a steaming chili dog, topped with fried onions and fresh parsley.

“Oh.” he whispered.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taking the place of a beloved dead boy was difficult, but Tim managed to do a decent job. He's smart, confident, and put together, so he wasn't effected by their devastating grief at all.

Tim is also a dirty little liar when it comes to his mental health.

A Pile Of Pillows By The Couch by reinersbigtits

Tim has always hated getting sick. He hates the haze and the pain. But, when he finds out his family is sick he jumps in to help without a second thought. However, without a spleen, he's incredibly susceptible to the illness and quickly realizes just how much he's missed out on.

Or: Tim Drakes repressed trauma followed by worried family feels and lots of comfort.

stepping on landmines by Ms_Trickster

There is a scar curved around Drake's neck that Damian does not understand.

So he asks Todd.

the butler's neighbor by deargalileo

It starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne's property. it's alfred's job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more.

after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds?

Stranger than Fiction by foxy_mulder

"There are details in this document that absolutely no one should know unless they have inside information on us. There’s hints that they know our patrol schedules and regularly keep tabs on us. I don't know who's behind this, or what they want with Batman, but tracking the writer needs to be a priority."

"And this document is… a fanfiction?"

_________

(Tim Drake writes Batman fanfiction. He doesn't expect Batman to actually find it.)

There are many many more fics which i will post later. Have fun reading

[panics-side-blog]

Alucard romantic headcanons

Auughauhahahhagaguughggg

Yea, more brain dump that I developed while working. A tiny bit of x reader and a tiny bit just him and how I imagine he would deal with romantic relationships and feelings.

I'm also thinking about doing the same/similar thing just about sexual relationships but we'll see.

🦇 A part of me thinks that he is AroAce another part things that it's just the vampirism that wore him down and honestly I'm more so leaning towards that part considering.

�� In his past as Dracula he definitely did have a few lovers (definitely hinting at Dracula's three wives), be it women who willingly wanted to be with him or women who got picked out from their village after his army steamrolled it.

🦇 Yet after the years became many and him seeing nations fall and rise his mind and heart turned cold and the desire of partnership became few. When he saw the first few people around him turn old and die of age or sickness, he fully grasped the concept of what it means to be a vampire and how it would affect him in ways he didn't think of just yet.

🦇 He still indulged in things every now and then but over time he had one too many lovers who died out of old age. Attaching himself to someone became hard and not many want to become a vampire in order to stay with him, so he decided to just give up that part which I believe is also him stripping himself from another part of humanity. To reject the very human way of falling in love and caring for one another.

🦇 Also a part of me believes it's a way of self punishment, someone like him doesn't deserve love, he is a monster meant to shred people apart, to eat the dead and drink the blood of the living, only the moon and night being his loyal companions for many years. A creature waiting for someone who is finally worthy and strong enough to kill him and pierce his heart, love will only make him attached to the undead life he has.

🦇 Now that doesn't mean he didn't have casual meet ups with others in a more physical way but that's a whole different thing I maybe let simmer inside my brain another day.

🦇 As Alucard he fully concentrated himself on work, it was one thing he still was passionate about and actually enjoys. Be it while working with van Hellsing or with sir Integra. It kept him entertained and his mind busy even if he never really found someone who could rival his strength and skills.

🦇 It kept those thoughts away long enough, the screams and begs of the once that get their flesh torn apart by him filling the void for some sort of deeper connection be it platonic or romantic.

🦇 Now, who will be the one who melts those ancient walls of regret, bloodlust and loneliness? Honestly depends, I don't think he has a certain type but he definitely has a few preferences when it's about catching his attention. Be it someone who is utterly human, down to the very last cell in their body, or someone who is pained by their own past, future and present like he is.

🦇 I think if it is a person who has a lot of humanity in them it can go multiple ways. Is it someone who clings to their kindness, who wishes to protect the good in the world and still wants to believe that there is good out there no matter how many atrocities happen? Amusing him for their nativity but still making a spark of respect flicker in him for them to not give up and show their determination for the good.

🦇 A person who has many flaws and complexities in them but still tries their best no matter how many mistakes they make along the way? He will admire their willingness for change and want to do better, to be better no matter how long it will take and how many times they will stumble and fall.

🦇 Or someone who just really gets on his nerves and making his blood boil yet he can't kill them because there is just something in them that makes him want to wait and see what will happen, in hopes he can unravel and understand them? To be constantly pushed by their eccentric nature, making it hard to get their strangeness out of his head like a nagging migraine.

🦇 If the potential love interest is more so the gloom and doom like he is I feel like it starts more so as mutual respect and understanding and slowly becomes something more if neither of them avoid their vulnerability and accept that, despite it all, a bit of company can be a balm for the soul.

🦇 This would be more of a slow burn than any of the others because not only is there one complex person/vampire dealing with a lot of shit but now there are two. I can imagine that it wouldn't be out of reach to think that they only would get together after at least a few years of careful testing of their own souls (or lack there of) and needs. Like two feral animals finding comfort with each other.

🦇 But the most important thing no matter who the person is, is that they will accept every part of him. Even when he shows something that is vulnerable and weak he is still Alucard, he has his own twisted way of showing affection and love. Seeing his enemies turn into minced meat and finding a good rival that can push him is something he craves. His partner has to deal with the fact that there are horrors beyond their comprehension inside him and that certain actions during his murdering (even if it is righteous) can make their stomach flip and the bile crawl up their throat.

🦇 Also considering that me most likely won't fall for a regular civilian considering his line of work, all of the options and for a potential lover have to be tough as nails to a certain extent.

🦇 There will be moments of gentleness tho after a long process of getting closer to each other, he'll hold them close and feel the warmth of their skin, listen to their heartbeat and feeling their breath tickle his paper white skin.

🦇 He'll whisper words of morbid passion, how he would gladly rip his heart out and place it on golden plates for them to eat and taste the love straight from the source.

🦇 Flowers will be placed in their room, some living some dying or already dead. If they have someone they absolutely hate, and he finds time, without hesitation he'll kill them and place their head on the table for them as proof.

🦇 Once they have him by their side there is no turning back, they stay with him for a long while. Vampire love is no joke especially with a man like Alucard, they have a taste of heaven and hell in one bite.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

bad decisions - i. sae, b. meguru & m. reo

summary; let's make some bad decisions.

genre/extra tags; rambling post?/scenarios???, fluff but not really, diet fluff, and diet angst, late night thoughts combined with day light thoughts, might be ooc

a/n; im gonna go out on a limb here and say you dont want yandere obsessive tendencies in the relationship (i dont write yandere bc i hate that trope and i dont understand the appeal). i only did three bc this was all i can think of, im so sorry- hope you enjoy this either way. thank you for requesting and for your patience.

i think we all saw this coming when i say, sae probably gotta have some odd habits and thoughts when it comes to being a relationship. he's precise and serious in his soccer, and that bleeds into his relationships. it has nothing to you, no, not when he's so used to seeing into every detail and every possibility. he keeps trying to predict what you will do, and then you surprise him when it's not what he expected. most of the time, this happens when you're just doing something without much thought. he gets kind of weird about it though, he just blue-screens and had to take a moment before asking what is wrong with you because you didn't do the thing he expected. you have to tell him that this is just how you are, and he refuses to be outsmarted by his partner when he's usually the one with the brain cell between you two.

he feels the need to check on you a lot because he doesn't express it outright. he observes you like he's in a game match. it's cute at first but then you realize, "oh god he's really paying attention a little too well..."

he hates if you ever even try to interact with rin. he is one jealous little shit. if he's in a good mood [which is hard to tell with him], you have like a higher chance of talking to rin. but most days, he's keeping you away from him.

bachira is unpredictable and he's crazy. he loves you a lot. and i mean a lot. he's extremely clingy towards things he cherishes and that probably stems from the lack of friends he had back then and he's just scared to lose you. but sometimes he really impedes on the day-to-day routine. he needs reassurance when you're gone. he texts you a lot. very standard clingy person.

he feels the need to be a guard dog. he's possessive but not in the way sae would be with his jealously. no, bachira is possessive but he's confident that he will keep you protected from others. but also he loves to wreak havoc so he likes being loud about being clingy and protective. it can get overwhelming.

i'm gonna be real, this one is short because bachira's traits could probably be pretty amplified in a relationship and honestly, i would go as far as to think that most of his traits would just be either better or worse in a relationship.

overbearing. that should be enough to explain it.

he's got a weird complex with him. at least that is what i think. he really stuck with nagi a lot, and i think he would do the same in a romantic relationship. he's gotten too used to coddling nagi and he does the same to you. he spoils you. and it's great at first, but it can be a lot at once. and honestly i think he feels the need to compensate for something. what is the thing he's compensating for? i don't know, but he gives me those "compensating for something with money" vibes.

i think it's safe to say that all the boys have a pride to uphold and reo is no different. he hates being inactive. he wants to help you all the time. and i mean all the time. he wants to be useful but he goes at it terribly. he wants to be relied on.

is it crazy to say that i think reo is the worst out of the three here? probably but whatever.

[see-arcane]

I know it's a day late, but I'm thinking about the possible Watsonian reasons for Renfield simply not addressing Jonathan at all, even to say he does not know him, whether it'd be a truth or lie. We know the Doylist reason is that Stoker flubbed the meeting in the initial version and Jonathan only got tucked into the visiting group after the fact and so he didn't get a blurb where Renfield does his 'ooh look how much I know about you~' bit.

But hey, Jonathan's there, technically. Renfield obviously sees him. Yet he goes unmentioned. Let's examine the possibilities:

A) Even reduced and dehumanized as he is in his cell, it's a slight flex of class. Mina he did not know when she arrived. He outright guessed that she might be the girl Jack proposed to--therefore assuming she was someone of good background. Jonathan is a surprise to him, a blank space among these well-known higher class gentlemen. Being a blank space, it could be assumed he is the lesser/nobody among the group. (Which, in terms of the social and societal ladders, he is.) So, in the most uncharitable light, the silent treatment for Jonathan is a little bit of leftover toff peeking through as Renfield puts on the former-upper class peacock routine. I personally don't buy it, but the possibility is there.

B) Renfield simply does not have a PowerPoint presentation locked and loaded about the guy who Jack and his asylum have known for barely three days. Doesn't have so much as a gossip flashcard on him. Embarrassing. Move on, don't make eye contact.

C) Renfield is shown to have some kind of heightened Sense when it comes to Dracula's presence. Whether that's the Count himself or things saturated with his essence (ala the dirt boxes), somehow Renfield is extremely aware of all things Dracula, perhaps as his own wisp of psychic talent. And that means when Jonathan Harker walked into the asylum, he got a strong twitch. When he walks into the cell, it's like a mallet to the brain.

Because here is someone who spent two solid months having Dracula's presence inflicted on him every single night. Even with a few months behind him, there's no scrubbing that out. Renfield Knows this young man was in Dracula's jaws, literally and metaphorically, for most of a season. And he's wearing a wedding ring. Like Mina's. Dots connect.

Confronted with this, and with the betrayal trapped under his usurped tongue, and with the full knowledge of what a monster he's sold himself to and what that monster must have inflicted on this earnest and haunted man just shy of being a boy, what can he say? What must he want to say to this member of the group more than any other, even dear Dr. Seward?

("He has been here! He can enter this building because I invited him! He has come to her, he will come again, he knows what she has done against him, what you have done in slipping him, what you are to each other! You know his teeth, you know what is coming! Both of you must run before it is too late!")

I imagine all this and more came sprinting up his throat the instant he recognized Jonathan Harker for who he was, even if he had no name for him. He sensed it. And with that urge, that impulse to address Jonathan directly in a deluge--Dracula slams his mouth shut and turns him firmly away from Mr. Harker entirely.

Only the others can get your song and dance, pet lunatic. Not a word to the solicitor. Do not even look at him.

[onesiesdaydream]

i love ur writing so much aAAAAAAAHHH im gonna squeal like a badly written shoujo lead

can i request platonic !! skk and reader hcs? just three idiot besties glued together by a mediator lol

would also love to see how dazai's departure would affect dynamics actually-

The Handler I Dazai Osamu x Platonic! Reader x Chuuya Nakahara (Headcanons)

Summary: you're the mediator friend in a trio of idiots.

A/N: Hey loves!! 💖 Wow, I seriously went overboard writing these headcanons—I had so much fun diving into all the feels and messy friendship dynamics. Tumblr’s being a pain and won’t let me post everything at once, so I’ll be dropping another post soon with the headcanons for after Dazai’s departure. Thank you so much for this request, it's adorable 😭💕I love you all so much aAAAAAAAHHH!! Keep those requests coming!!

TW: Dazai being Dazai (sucidal), use of fem! pronouns.

MASTERLIST

Dazai = Chaos Instigator™

Chuuya = Chaos Reactor™

You = Chaos Manager™ (Reluctant Therapist, Designated Adult, Chaos Containment Unit)

You all share one collective brain cell that is passed around depending on who’s having a good day. Spoiler: it’s usually not Dazai.

Your dynamic is as follows:

Dazai: stirring shit for fun.

Chuuya: two seconds away from strangling him.

You: holding Chuuya back with one arm and cleaning up Dazai’s mess with the other.

You & Dazai:

He immediately clocks you as “the normal one” and thus someone he must harass.

Dazai’s idea of “harassing” you is sending you ridiculous, cryptic texts at 3 AM just to see if you’ll actually respond. 

You usually do — partly because you’re worried he’s up to something dangerous, partly because, well, you’re his “normal one” and he secretly craves your presence.

He has a sixth sense for when you’re just starting to relax — and that’s precisely when he appears with a “fun little favor” that usually involves blood, bribery, and at least one felony.

He absolutely uses you as a human shield during Mafia meetings. Not out of fear — just for the drama. 

“See, if they shoot me, they shoot you, and then what would they do without their therapist-slash-logic buffer?”

You found Dazai once, bleeding from a botched mission, clearly trying to downplay how bad it was. 

He laughed, joked, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll just walk it off!”

You looked him dead in the eye and snapped, “Sit your ass down or I’ll knock you out myself.”

He blinked. Sat down. Let you stitch him up in silence. Afterward, he quietly said, “Thanks, Doc.”

He’s never called you that again but after that incident he’ll leave sweets on your desk with goofy notes every so often.

Despite everything, he listens to you. Every time. Especially when your voice drops into that low, deadly calm that means you’ve had enough.

Once, after a brutal mission, he didn’t show up for three days. You found him in a crumbling safehouse, bandaged badly, feverish, too tired to keep up the act. He tried to laugh it off — “Guess I overestimated how immortal I am, huh?”

You didn’t say anything. Just knelt down, took his hand, and said softly, “You don’t have to be okay for me to stay.”

He turned his face away, but his grip on your hand didn’t loosen all night as you helped him back to your place to get properly looked after.

Dazai has nightmares. Rarely, but when they hit, they’re ugly — violent flashes from the past. He once called you by mistake mid-panic attack. 

You stayed on the line until he could breathe again. Neither of you acknowledged it the next day, but he brought you coffee — your exact order, with a note: Thanks for picking up. 

You & Chuuya:

Protective older brother energy to the max, even if he grumbles about it constantly.

Chuuya’s gruff exterior melts when it comes to you. You might catch him softly brushing dust off your clothes or silently standing guard when near you — actions he denies but doesn’t bother hiding.

Chuuya yells a lot, but you’re one of the few people he never yells at. He grumbles, mutters, and swears—but not at you.

He once tried to give you fighting tips mid-mission because it’s not exactly your strong suit. You responded by knocking someone out with a coffee pot. He hasn’t offered since. 

He does mention the coffee pot story every time someone doubts you.

After particularly bad missions, Chuuya gets twitchy. Not from fear but from adrenaline crash and guilt he’ll never talk about. 

He always mumbles some flimsy excuse—“Needed to check something,” or “Forgot my tie here”—just so he has an excuse to linger in your apartment. 

He hovers near the kitchen, pretending to look for snacks, while you quietly brew a fresh pot of tea.

Without fail, you hand him a steaming cup of chamomile lavender (his favorite, though he’d never say it). You watch as he inhales the scent, closes his eyes for the barest second, and lets his shoulders unclench.

He never says thank you either, but you’ve caught glimpses of him meticulously straightening cushions, wiping down counters, even organizing your books by height. It’s his way of “thank you,” unspoken but unmistakable.

You’re the lone sane presence who makes sure they don’t kill each other or get banned from every coffee shop in Yokohama. But you're also their emotional tether, which neither will ever admit.

Chuuya calls you “Handler” as a joke. 

Dazai once said you’re “Our Emotional Support Human” — but when you respond by playfully threatening to charge rent for the emotional labor, both men pause, realizing that you’re absolutely right.

You once tried to assign nicknames based on personalities. 

Dazai got “Menace,” 

Chuuya got “Napoleon,”

You once made the mistake of saying, “I don’t care what you do, just don’t involve me.”

Dazai immediately made it his life mission to involve you in everything. 

You have a group chat. It’s mayhem. 

You muted it 12 times but Dazai just messages you directly if you don’t respond fast enough.

Recent message from him:

“Hey, can we use the Port Mafia’s resources to build a moat around my apartment? For reasons.”

Chuuya: “No. What the hell is wrong with you?”

You: “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Dazai: “You get paid???”

You once tried to take a day off. You returned to 63 missed messages, two emergency meetings, and a voicemail from Chuuya that just said, “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU.”

Dazai once dared Chuuya to do karaoke drunk. You watched in horror as he smashed a soulful rendition of “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” by ABBA. 

Dazai did film the whole performance, complete with Chuuya dramatically belting into a beer bottle mic, doing impromptu spins that nearly took out a waitress.

Since that day, you set Chuuya’s individual ringtone to “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!”

You haven't changed it.

You caught Chuuya adjusting Dazai’s coat collar once — silently, grumbling, like he hated every second of it. Dazai didn’t even blink. You didn’t say a word, but you secretly took a picture.

Sometimes, one of them will fall asleep on your couch. You’ll drape a blanket over them, knowing they sleep better near you.

You’ve fallen asleep between them, too — Chuuya seated rigidly by your side, pretending not to watch over you; Dazai lying nearby, eyes open in the dark, quietly guarding the silence.

They’ve both been called monsters, weapons, tools. But when they’re with you — just with you — they feel human again.

They never say it. But the way they lean into your touch, the way they show up even when they don’t have to… says everything.

[astroboots]

Superhuman stamina

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: The dangers of dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it's going to leave you sore.

Content: Miguel is a demanding menace. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasm. Squirting.

Word Count: 1.4k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

The thing about dating a man that has been genetically imprinted with the DNA of a spider is that one of the side-effects of such an occurrence means he has superhuman stamina.

It's something Miguel had told you in the early days of your relationship, listing out this characteristic as just another facet of his personality, much in the way someone would say that they're a Virgo on their Tinder profile.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time, too distracted by the list of characteristics that preceded it: retractable talons? telescopic night vision? ORGANIC WEBBING?!

In retrospect, that was naïve. The talons don't really affect your day to day. They do come out when Miguel's emotional state is particularly elevated, which has lead to incidents. Like that time you had to replace your new purchased armchair, when you were on top and post-sex your new armchair looked like it had been mauled by an escaped zoo lion.

The telescopic night vision? Incredibly convenient at night when there's a blackout and you need to find your cell phone.

And the webbing... the less said about that the better, really.

But now that you've dated as long as you have, the superhuman stamina, you realize is by far the one that has the most profound consequences on your life.

At the time you hadn't realized that those enhanced attributes weren't limited to aerial battles against the latest villain of the week when he was fighting mutant lizards, or rhino men. It also haunts you in the privacy of your bedroom.

Because this is what happens when you date a man with superhuman stamina: You'll often oversleep and barely make it on time to work. On most days you've lost your voice. You'll be sore a lot.

And the thing about dating Miguel specifically is that the man is stubborn, relentless, demanding and that too extends into your bedroom.

"Fuck, Miguel, I can't."

"'Course you can, nena, look at how well you're taking me," he says as he stares down at the space between your legs where you and him join. Where you're spread snugly around him. Where his thick cock, slick with you both, disappears into your cunt then re-emerges.

It's wet. It's messy, the sheets beneath you soaked and sticky, from the last three (four?) rounds. As snug of a fit his thick cock is inside you, he's filled you so full there's no space left for you to fit what he's spilled inside you, over and over again. It keep leaking out with each press and demanding thrust as he buries his cock inside you as deep as he goes.

You shake your head even though you know it's useless. Pleading with him has never gotten you anywhere before. You don't know why you think it's going to make a difference now.

"Please, I-I can't-- nngh, too much," you plead. You whine. You sob.

"Shh, nena, it's okay," he hushes. Again with the cooing. Again with the sweet little nicknames, but he's not showing mercy, his hand moving down from your hip, down between your legs, until his thumb presses down on your clit.

Electricity crackles through the length of your spine. Your back arches, lifting off the bed, you don't know if you are chasing into his touch or running away from it: the first? latter? both? neither.

You can't form a coherent thought anymore. It's good and too much, and your brain is short-circuiting from it all.

"There you go, see? Doing so good. Look how pretty you are taking me."

Even in the dim light of your bedroom, you can see his expression clearly. Eyes a piercing crimson red, the corners of his canine teeth peeking out from his self-satisfied smile.

He bends down, nearly folding you in half as he presses his cock as deep as it goes, until he's nudging at that sweet and perfect spot that has your vision go white and blinding behind your eyes.

Sweet, sharp ache scrapes close to your bones at the sensation of him filling you again. The way he stretches you to your limits, until you've forgotten how to breathe, and may very well be the death of you.

It's there again. The oppressive warmth that swirls sweetly in your stomach as a warning. Tears prickle your eyes as everything in you squeezes tight at the sensation.

Oh shit, it's--

"Fuck that's it nena. That's it. Come on my cock again. Come on it and I'll fill you up."

It rises in you. A pressure that builds and builds and builds, and robs you of your breath until you have nothing left to give. It's overwhelming, the way the pleasure burns at every one of your nerve endings, until your face tingles with a numbness and you can no longer feel your legs.

"Mi-Miguel," you stutter, "I can't--"

"Yes you can."

The pressure is still there, expanding with an ominous volume, and no, he's wrong. You can't. Something is different. This isn't like before. You squirm underneath him, feet planted against the mattress for leverage.

"Settle down," he says, but you don't know how you're supposed to do that when your entire body has been wounded so tight you think the whole of you are going to snap.

You shake your head frantically, sobbing with a raw burn in your throat as you thrash underneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. Oh fuck-- it's too much.

Oh god, you can't-you can't-you can't--

You raise your palms against his firm chest, pressing back, in a half-formed attempt to make him ease up, but it only spurs him on. One arm loops behind your back, lifting you from the mattress to meet his hips as he snaps them into you. And oh fuck!

It hits something devastating inside. A pin prick of pleasure that strikes every nerve in your body. It hits a frequency that makes your teeth shatter, every cell in your skull vibrate. Your leg kicks out, body twisting and turning to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

"Callate," you hear his warm strained breath in your ear.

His free hand locks around your wrists, pinning them to the side, then he's lunging forward, his mouth pressed to your shoulders and you can feel the sharp warning of his fangs resting on your skin. "Calm down, or I'm gonna bite you."

You still, shivering as his hips pulls back, then he hits that devastating spot again and again.

Every muscle in you locks up tight until you can't move and for a moment you wonder if he really did bite down. But you can still feel his mouth on your throat, his tongue lapping gently at your sweat-soaked skin until the whole of your neck tingles.

He doesn't go easy on you, thrusting into you with the same demanding pace as before, and God. The sensation is heavy and ominous like nothing else you've felt before. Large and looming with nowhere else to go, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it, and you know that if this doesn't stop, if Miguel doesn't stop, then all of you are going to burst.

You open your mouth, trying to warn him, but all that comes out is the first syllable.

"Miii--" The rest dies in a wail, and you realize it's already too late. The pressure shatters and breaks.

You come with a rush of wetness that spills out of you. It soaks everything, your thighs and his, drenching his stomach and drips down against the sheets to join the mess that's already there.

Everything sounds distant like you're pulled under water. You can barely even register Miguel's voice in your ear. "Oh shit, are you-- fuck, that's --"

He sounds surprised. But he doesn't stop. Miguel fucks you through it. Your climax and his, with frantic thrusts, until finally he settles into a slow and gentler pace.

When you come back to yourself, he's kneeling above you, his large bodyframe looming over yours.

"Fuck, babe..."

He palms at his softening cock, glistening wet with your mess as he stares down at you with darkened eyes. Slowly jerking the length of it with a lazy pace that has you mesmerized. It twitches in his grip with interest, and you know it's not going to take long before he's ready to go again.

"One more time," Miguel says. "Let's see if we can make you do it again."

Jesus fucking Christ

Your head drops down to your pillow with exhaustion.

The thing about dating a man with superhuman stamina is that it may very well kill you.

Dedication & Credits: To my beloved @thirstworldproblemss who I hope is driving safely across the country through the mountains I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

And to poor @guruan who I woke up with my other fic and robbed her of her beauty sleep.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[octuscle]

Late Night Possession

Inspired by @malevessel

It was a terrible day. Meetings that dragged on like chewing gum. The air conditioning in the meeting room was faulty, it was well over 30 degrees Celsius outside, much higher inside and the humidity wasn't much below 100 percent. I hate it when lawyers suddenly join us at the end of a project. They talk everything up without even having understood for five cents what it was all about. And my client's in-house counsel was not only annoying, he also stank from the mouth and smelled terribly of sweat. The air in the meeting room was stifling. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when we thought we were finally finished at 8pm. And then the pain in the ass said he had a few more questions….

It was really lucky that I got the last train home. I still had a three-hour journey ahead of me. It would be 02:00 when I was finally in bed. What a day! But I would take a nap now. The train was almost empty, I was sitting in the rest area, no one would disturb me.

"Hey bro, I swear! The bitch was begging for mercy. And then I fucked her all the more!" I am rudely torn from my reverie. Two seats away, a guy has sat down. A migrant with Arab roots, I'd say. Not a Muslim, because he doesn't perform ablutions. It smells of sweat and tobacco. The guy is on the phone at 11:30 at night in the train's rest area. On the phone? No, he's shouting. Without a headset of course, I can hear his "bro" on the other end just as well as I can hear him. And the guy is smoking. On the train. That's all I really needed today to be happy.

I may look weak. I am weak. Sport was never my thing. But I'm not anxious. Even if the guy has arms that make my legs look skinny. But he's not allowed to use the phone here. And he's certainly not allowed to smoke here. I stand up. I go to him. He only looks at me for a split second and immediately turns his attention back to his conversation partner. "Excuse me, this is a non-smoking train and you are in the rest area… So may I ask you…" BAAAAANNG! His fist hits me without any warning. My eyes go black.

Shit, why does my fist hurt? Shouldn't my head be hurting? I rub my fist. And see myself. On the floor. Knocked out. Shit! Shit! Shit! I look in the window. At my reflection. A migrant with Arab roots. "Yo dude, you good? Yo bro, spill the tea, what's the 411?" I hear from the cell phone. I pick up the phone, say that everything is okay, but that I have to take care of something here and hang up. I lie on the floor and sniffle. So it's the other one. Or is it me? Damn it! What's happened here? Take it easy now. This is a dream. I have brain trauma or something… What would I really do now if I were in that bastard's body? I'm like remote-controlled. I take my wallet out of my jacket pocket. I take my watch, the gold cufflinks and my glasses. I put everything in my laptop bag. The next station is coming. And I jump out of the train. I need a cigarette now. I don't smoke, but my body is obviously addicted to that shit. There's a Zippo and filterless Marlboros in my bomber jacket. I'm still a bit inexperienced with it, I have tobacco crumbs on my tongue. But the smoke feels good. So good. And my head is finally starting to work properly again.

Okay, I'm in the middle of nowhere in Stoke-on-Trent. Shit, I've got the belongings of a man who's been knocked out on a train to Manchester. I'm going to need money. I take the money out of my wallet, take the credit cards and pull the maximum amount out of the ATM in the deserted station concourse with each one. According to the departure board, there's a train back to London in ten minutes. The platform is empty. I get on, leave the laptop bag with everything that might remind me of myself in an empty compartment and quickly get off again. The train departs. Shit, shit, shit! I need one more cigarette first. I smoke the second one much more routinely on the station forecourt. Opposite the station is a somewhat shabby-looking hotel. While I'm thinking about going in there, a bus arrives. Destination Birmingham. Without thinking twice, I get on the bus. Birmingham. I drove through there a few hours ago. In a completely different body. I fall asleep.

It's dawn when my cell phone wakes me up. The phone of the guy who knocked me out. Mine after all. Shit, I'm not awake yet and the situation is challenging. The phone isn't vibrating discreetly, it's quite loud. BILLY TSTRK as the ringtone. One of my favorite hip-hop artists. He's also from Beirut. It's my buddy Dylan. He asks if everything's okay because I haven't been in touch. I say I've had a bit of stress with the wanker on the train and am now on the bus to Birmingham rather than Manchester. Dylan says cool, he'll tell Hamza and he'll pick me up at the bus. "You're a man of honor, I'll kiss your eye!" I say and hang up.

It's 05:30. I've been on the phone with Facetime. Without a headset. Several pairs of eyes stare at me in annoyance. "laenat alfilastiniiyn alkufaar" I curse and close my eyes again.

Had to go into hiding for a few weeks. The police were looking for me. Of course, there were surveillance cameras at the station. As far as I know, my old body is in a mental hospital. The story of the investment banker who suffered brain trauma after being mugged on a night train and then thought he was his tormentor was in the press. Not that I still read the papers. But it even appeared on Yasin's Instagram account, which is now my account.

My boys had to get used to it a bit. The investment banker is still in me. And that's a good thing. As Yasin, I have a pretty complex company to run. Import, export, all sorts of different stuff. I wash the money in investments in shisha bars and fitness studios. Hey, I only invest in things I know something about. And I practically live on the weight bench and in the shisha lounge area. Even though I think shisha sucks. I'll stick to cigarettes.

[flowerfreya]

Cherry Wish

Deny

Cherry Wish Masterlist

Pairing: Omega!Simon x Alpha!Soap x Beta!Reader

Content: Johnny and Simon are in a established ten year relationship and Reader works at a grocery store, hasnt been in a relationship in three years and can't go to sleep without Nyquil, and they want her but she likes to be alone (not really, in fact it's quite the opposite)

They found you working at the grocery store. Immediately enthralled. Had to have you. Their one collective brain cell couldn’t think anything other than mine.

Simon and Soap have been together for 10 years, never thinking about taking a third, of course they have bouts. One night stands but the longest they had kept one was for a month. It doesn’t usually work out, they don’t discriminate with designation either , Beta, Omega, Alpha it’s really up to them. 

But your scent calmed them , smelled like fresh laundry and lavender and one of those perfect fall days. 

~

You smiled at them when you saw them, just like how you did with any other customer. You’re kind of over today , just wanted to go home and curl up with a good book and maybe some wine and Nyquill. You are checking them out with all their stuff , when you glance up again and see that they are just smiling at you. You give them a brighter smile and a small and awkward , okay. You haven’t seen two Alphas in a relationship for a long time, it’s actually very uncommon but not impossible. Good for them. 

“Hi”, the  one with the mohawk says. 

“Hi” you reply back hoping to be polite but also get the point across that you don’t really want to talk. 

“You smell nice”, the taller one says , which has you giving him a wide eyed stare. God damnit. Of course they are weird. It’s always the cute ones that are fucking wierdos. You know your beta and most of the time betas are with other betas, considering that the only gender that can really make an alpha’s knot comfortable is omegas. It is possible for other genders too , but it’s a lot of stretching , prepping , and messy. 

For a beta, you do have a pretty strong scent, multiple people have told you that, but that is about where the similarities stop with identifying with omegas. 

Mohawks gives the bigger guy an elbow to the gut and shake his head, “What he means is that you are really pretty and maybe you would like to go out with us?”. 

You’re unamused but you know some men can’t take the fucking hint, “I have a boyfriend”, you shrug in a what can you do motion, “sorry” , you tac on just in case. 

“You don’t smell like you have a boyfriend”, tall one chides. 

“What’s it to you?” , you reply back, who the hell does this Alpha thinks he is talking to you like that. I mean he’s right you don’t have a boyfriend, haven’t had one in three years, you wouldn’t smell like someone else even if you wanted to. 

“Woah, woah,woah, let's calm down everyone, no harm done, `M sorry hen didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” , you can smell him pushing off a calming scent. 

“He started it”, you mumble under your breath. Looking up at the tall Alpha. And when he quickly shifts his eyes down it shocks you. Most alphas would stare you in the eye until you broke but not this one. Maybe he was broken. 

“Stop”, mohawks chastise the tall one , and he bows his head and sort of shrinks into himself, smelling of shame and humiliation. 

Oh. 

Oh

An omega. Interesting, you’ve never seen one so big and tall and so Alpha. It’s interesting, and you want to know more. 

Mohawk turn back towards you, “Sorry about him, I guess he forgot all his training at home” , he laughs at the end , you guess trying to make everything a joke, “Anyway, thank you for all your help, and see you around”, you watch them leave , feeling confused and sad and more lonely than you felt in a long time, maybe you should have gave them you number but maybe not.

Simon is angry at Soap , “You know she doesn’t have a boyfriend”. 

“I know that” , he replies, calm, cool, collected, it makes him mad that he’s not upset about this. 

Simon stumps his feet, having a tantrum, “So why can’t we take her out”, he whines. Soap already put the groceries in the back and is moving to the front of the car but to the passenger side, since he can’t drive because he could just pass out. Randomly. With no warning, so no driving for him. 

“If she lied about having a boyfriend, she obviously didn’t want to go out with us”, Simon knows that, he just doesn’t understand why. It’s making him upset and he knows he’s stinking up the car but he can’t help it. He put his foot on the brake and is just about to push the button when Soap stops him , “You okay to drive?”

“Maybe I need to take a second”, Simon answered, as an Omega, getting rejected is hard and it makes his emotion all over the place but usually the only one that gets conveyed is anger, “She smells so good”, he groans out. 

“I know hen, don’t worry, we’ll figure something out”, Soap answers with authority that only an Alpha with a plan would have. 

[peachycheekz]

Come What May Creator's Challenge #13

May 25th Mend/Mayhem a/n: craving something sweet. Also I wrote three different takes on the prompt words and they're all so vastly different, wow. I was all over the place today. WC: 1.4k

read on ao3 previous, next part 2

Soft to the touch

If Eustass Kid was great at one thing it was causing chaos.

Getting into fights and getting himself hurt were his specialties. And refusing treatment after his forte. And not listening to a word out of your mouth was his personal favourite hobby. He thrived off of making you worry, it seemed.

The latest fight against a marine brigade had left most of the crew on the Victoria Punk in pretty bad shape, the captain included. Not to mention the ship itself. Poor girl.

Most of them were glad they had you to take care of them. That you stuck around even though you didn't have to. Well, everyone except for Kid actually. Somewhere between getting kidnapped from a marine ship and becoming the Kid pirates' unofficial doctor you had managed to gain the trust and friendship of the crew. And Kid was regretting ever thinking taking you along was a good idea.

Every time he saw you laughing about a stupid joke with Killer or having one of those absolutely ridiculous girls' days with Emma and Quincy he damned the moment he'd thought kidnapping you was a great idea. He couldn't even pinpoint the moment you turned from prisoner to friend. One day Wire had just refused to put you back into the glorified broom closet Kid had assigned your cell and the next day Emma had you sleeping in the girls' quarters and then you sat at dinner and every meal thereafter. He had missed the time frame in which he could've gotten rid of you. If he tried now, he was pretty sure his crew would lynch him.

You were infuriating. Annoyingly so. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Have you seen Kid?" you asked Heat after bandaging up the last of the injured. You'd only seen him briefly after the battle but from what you could glimpse he was hurt pretty badly. "Try the workshop," he responded. "He'd sooner weld himself together than let you take a look but good luck."

Kid's workshop down in the belly of the ship was a sacred space, one you'd learned the hard way was off limits. But your need to make sure he was okay forced you to take the steps. He may not be the nicest person towards you but he did tolerate you on his ship so the least you could do was take care of his crew and him. If he let you that was. He usually kept his distance from you. As if you were something possibly poisonous. Dangerous.

You knocked softly, he grunted in response. "Kid?"

"Fuck off." That was surprisingly civil for his standards. He must really be in pain.

Getting ready to get screamed at for entering his space, you slowly pushed open the door, wood creaking over the sound of his colourful swearing.

His shirt hung off of him in tatters, the once white fabric more similar in colour to his hair. The bleeding should've stopped by now, but there were still fresh rivulets dripping out of several wounds across his torso and side. He looked pale, sickly. Weakened.

Seastone bullets.

You were by his side before your brain caught up with the rest of your body.

"Sit down, you look like you're going to pass out."

"I said fuck off." He shoved your hands off, settled a levelling glare on you but you were used to his antics and weren't scared of his ill-tempered reactions anymore. He swayed, hand gripping the surface of his workbench so hard his knuckles turned white.

You pulled up a chair behind him. "And I said sit down."

Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was the seastone addling his senses but he huffed, irritated, and let himself sink down on the chair with a thud. Small wins.

You'd done this a thousand times before, back when you were still a nurse for the marine outpost you were taken from. Treat big men with bigger egos. But you were persistent and maybe a little stubborn and Kid was probably a little delirious.

"I can handle this myself. I don't need your help." He slurred his words, watching through half lidded eyes as you fished what you needed from your emergency kit. You definitely would have to restock after this day.

"Oh, quit the act, you big baby." He arched a brow, unused to such bite from you. Armed with forceps and a clean cloth you knelt by his side, ignoring his grumbled protest. It was halfhearted anyway.

He didn't flinch when you started digging around in his wounds, pulling out the seastone splinters that were giving him such trouble. With every piece removed he seemed to sit up a little straighter, seemed to gain a bit more colour. Seemed less close to passing out.

Kid watched you work with rapt fascination.

Your brows were furrowed in concentration, your hands steady. Unsurprisingly soft. Not that he had spared a thought to the state of your hands.

He couldn't quite grasp the reasoning behind your friendliness towards him, especially given the fact he wasn't exactly nice to you. Ever. Especially considering the fact he'd kidnapped you. You were the oddest thing he'd ever seen.

You moved to sit between his legs and Kid was glad he could attribute the hitch in his breath and the tensing of the muscles in his abs, his chest to the injuries he'd sustained. You pulled the last bit of the damned stone shards out of his body and he wanted to relax but you wouldn't stop touching him.

Skilled fingers found scratches he didn't even know were there, gashes he hadn't noticed until you disinfected them. And then you stood and cupped his face in your agonisingly smooth hands and he made the mistake of looking at you.

There were specks of a different colour around your pupils, he noticed offhandedly. He was close enough to see the faint freckles dusted across the bridge of your nose, your cheekbones. A faded scar, barely visible, adorned the ridge of your left eyebrow.

You had pulled your bottom lip between you teeth, absorbed in your work and the most absurd thought crossed his mind.

Heat spread to the tips of his ears and he averted his eyes, fixing them on something that wasn't you. You were too close, too gentle, too pretty and Kid wasn't able to form a coherent thought anymore.

"You really should be more careful. You're not indestructible, you know?" Your genuine worry took him by surprise. You stroked a thumb over his cheek soothingly before pulling away and taking a step back, out of his personal space. Kid fought tooth and nail not to lean into your touch, not to chase after your hand like some touch-starved stray dog.

"What do you care?" He grumbled embarrassed by his own body's reactions to your close proximity. He couldn't even muster up the nerve to be mad at you for whatever it was he usually was mad at you for.

"I care a great deal about my captain's health." Kid's heart skipped a beat in a way he couldn't chalk up to any of his injuries. You hadn't missed a beat calling him that. Hadn't hesitated. When did he become your captain?

Your smile was disarming. Distracting.

"I don't remember recruiting you."

"Then let me off at the next port."

"No," he said too fast, too panicked. Too honest. Your smile widened and whatever game he didn't know he was part of, he'd just lost. "You're of use to the crew." He quickly tried to cover his slip up with technicalities but you only hummed, packing your things together. Amusement tugged at your lips.

"I'd be a fool to let the only person with sufficient medical knowledge in this place go." He didn't manage to sound the way he wanted to. Cool, aloof, disinterested and you noticed. You turned his way again, hands on your hips.

"Then you better get used to my fussing if you can't keep yourself out of trouble, Captain." He liked the way your lips curled around the word far too much.

Hidden in the shadows of the hallway, Killer couldn't suppress a grin beneath his mask. Wire snorted a laugh. "How long do you give him?"

"Couple months tops. He's smitten."

"Try a couple weeks," Quincy chimed in, nodding to where Kid made space on his workbench so you could sit and catch a quick break from tending to wounds all day. He even managed a quiet 'thank you'.

"Seems about right."

Kid was a goner.