#I miss his long trenchcoat

[carry-on-my-superhell]

supernatural started going down the drain when they cut Cas' trenchcoat

[bellodazai]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. A sight to behold - Dazai Osamu

Dazai couldn't control the erratic pace of his heart at the sight before him. He had came home late tonight, by an mission that had gone for far too long for Dazai's liking leaving him yearning for him to be in your arms.

Dazai's soft gaze was on you, sleeping on the bed, covers kicked off from movement, his eyes trailed over your body halting to where you were snuggling a pillow, holding it close to your body as you would with Dazai. His heart clenched as he saw his crumpled button down shirt stretched over the pillow, the sight made his heart flutter once again.

As quietly as he could, Dazai discarded his trenchcoat, leaving it crumpled on the floor in a crumpled mess which Dazai is certain you'll yell at him (affectionately) about it in the morning for making his freshly ironed clothes all creased. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he kneeled next to your sleeping form as he tried to gently take the pillow out of your arms. He halted in his movements as you mumbled incoherently in your sleep worried for a moment he had woken you up from your slumber. A certain smells fills his nostrils and he can't stop his heart from beating faster. You had sprayed some of his cologne onto the pillow, did you miss him that much? Dazai couldn't help but cry inside that you would miss him that much, that someone would miss his presence.

He resumes to tugging at the pillow gently, not budging he pouts internally, he never thought he would be jealous of an object but here he was jealous of a pillow. Giving up on the gentle tugs on the pillow Dazai yanked it out of your arms finally in his reach the pillow letting it fly in the air landing somewhere on the floor with a soft thump. The loss of your pillow woke you up as you groggily opened your eyes looking up at Dazai with a sleepily.

"mm sorry my love" he said with a soft whisper his caressing your cheek gently. "the pillow was in my place"

You open the covers and arms for Dazai to rest in, he settles between your arms leaning his head against your chest to match his heartbeat with yours. "you stink" you say to him with a yawn, nose scrunched from Dazai's sweaty smell from the mission as you gently pushed his head away form your chest to see his offended face which turned into a exaggerated pout. "how could one say that about a hero!" he exclaimed dramatically. Dazai after not seeing you all day which had felt like centuries had been too eager to embrace his love to even think about showering once he got home. "I was out on a mission to save the wooorlldd-" he said cut off by you clamping your hand down on his mouth. "missed you" you mumbled just content to have him home once again. "m'here now" he said quietly placing a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for a moment before moving back to his original position against your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist.

Dazai sighed happily, your fingers running through his hair, he wished for this moment to never end, his heart swooning with his love for you. Your movements topped as Dazai heard shallow breathing indicating you had fallen asleep. Not knowing if sleep would bestow him tonight or not, Dazai was happy just to be in your loving embrace.

if you like this please reblog and like -- its my first fic :) divider credit to @/benkeibear

[spicybunni]

YANDERE KARL HEISENBERG HEADCANONS

I think I’m just gonna do Yandere headcanons for all the Lords because why not?

Karl as a yandere was so hard to write for 😰 he just has such a idgaf vibe! But I hope y’all enjoy it!!

WARNINGS : YANDERE TENDENCIES/ VIOLENCE TOWARDS DARLING / INVASION OF SPACE / SUBMISSIVE DARLING / BLOOD (not darlings)

⚙️Karl strikes me as a cocky yandere. He is obsessed with you but also loves playing with you. Meaning if you want to fuck around and find out he is all for it, but expect to be screaming for your life by the end of it. The best place to be is by his side always.

⚙️For example, he would let you roam the factory on your own. Making you feel a sense of freedom until you happen upon one of his awful experiments walking towards you. He has full control of course, and would only let his metal corpse puppets go so far until having them pull back and leave you alone.

⚙️Usually you would just run back to him out of breath and shaking. Cue his wolfish grin at your state “Why darling, back so soon?”

⚙️This guy is strong, so if you’re being a brat he has no problem just hoisting you up and taking you to your room/cage and settling you there for the remainder of a day.

⚙️I feel like Karl would use a metal collar or ankle cuff so if you get too ahead of yourself. It doesn’t matter if you’re defiant or compliant because he’ll just drag you using his metal powers with the collar/cuff.

⚙️Likes it when you cling to him. It makes him feel good. Will order you to hug him or hang onto his arm when going through the factory together.

⚙️You best believe this man has all eyes on you. If you think you’re alone roaming around, he’ll just interrupt your thoughts through the camera speakers “What are you up to darling? Anything interesting?”

⚙️Hates it when you ask questions about him or his family’s past. You either will get a passive aggressive answer or a long rant about Mother Miranda. Or he would just tell you to shut up.

⚙️A defiant darling would amuse him. He loves your resistance and spirit. Watching you struggle and overcome the horrors of his factory. But it only amuses him so long before he ends up chaining one of your legs to a bedpost and keeping you in a rusting metal room.

⚙️A compliant darling wouldn’t be as entertaining for him. But you would be granted certain freedoms for your good behavior. Such as roaming the factory with minimal jumpscares and no monsters purposely attacking you.

⚙️If compliant darling does get injured by a disobeying monster in the factory or outside, Karl will rescue you and kill his creation on the spot. You would whimper and shake at his brutality, but would still clutch to his trenchcoat for security.

⚙️A compliant darling would make him feel weird sometimes, like his chest hurts when you start to cry because you miss your family/friends or just simply because you’re afraid. His heart sinks but also tries to be as comforting as he can. Giving you a big hug parting you on the back “There, there! You’re going to be fine, enough with the tears!”

⚙️Yandere Karl Heisenberg is part Lycan. I can’t explain it, but he is. So he can definitely have bloodlust over you when you piss him off. He would just leave to hunt animals in the mountains behind the factory so he doesn’t harm you.

⚙️Comes back to you with either human or animal blood dripping from his mouth and on his hands. His golden eyes never leaving yours as he only says “You’re lucky I love you darling…”

⚙️Tries to get a rise out of compliant darling, but is immediately turned off when you start to cry at his teasing. Sometimes you do get pissy and he thinks it’s so adorable.

⚙️Almost too easy for defiant darling to get upset at his obvious teasing.

⚙️I feel that Karl wouldn’t force darling to sleep in his bed but knows that they will eventually come to him on their own? Because let’s be honest that factory is full of awful stuff that could walk into your room any minute. Like I said, the best place to be is by his side.

⚙️As a yandere I don’t think his goal is to have a mind broken darling that’s just a ghost around him. He wants darling to always be themselves, just so long as they can obey him and be by his side.

[bratdotcom]

Stay (The Hell Away from me)

( Billy Butcher x reader || neighbor!au, soft angst, Billy is caught yearning, good ending ♡ )

“You know I can’t stay long, luv. Ye know how it is.” Butcher sighs through his teeth, holding, almost gripping onto his phone. He can feel you hesitate to speak, your side of the line going quiet as you decide what to say. He could picture it clearly in his mind, as if you were right in front of him.

“I just want to see you, Billy.” You reply, leaning your cheek against the screen of your phone. God you missed him. How long has it been since the last time you saw him? Days blurred into weeks, weeks turned into months. Months and months of radio silence.

Butcher juts out his lower lip as he thinks of what to do. Endless possibilities leave his mind, in one ear, out the other. All of them end in him leaving you. But he couldn’t bear to do that. You could’ve just left him for dead on your street, but you didn’t. It’s been a while since he’s met someone as genuinely kind as you.

The world you both lived in was fucked, and Butcher didn’t know if you knew that or not but you made living more bearable for him.

Fuck it.

He sighs again. “I’ll be there in ten.” he says, one of his hands readily grabbing onto the wheel. He puts his phone on speaker as he places it onto the passenger’s seat, wanting to hear your voice one last time before he sees you in person.

You smile, even though he can’t see you. “I’ll be waiting.” you say, promptly hanging up after.

He arrives at your back door, rough knuckles gently knocking against its flimsy screen. Butcher unknowingly sneers as he waits on your back porch. The screen itself looked half-done, barely being kept in place by a rusty-looking metal door frame. He could probably do a better job drunk than whoever the hell installed your screen door.

Maybe one day, he’d come by with his tools, offering to fix your door as an excuse to see you again. Maybe you’d offer him lemonade as a way of saying thank you.

Knowing you, the lemonade would probably be more sweet than his liking, With sugar decorating the rim of the glass.

He’d bear through it. If it meant he could see you.

You finally open the door, hugging him immediately after. He freezes up, not expecting you to hug him so quickly. Your hands run up the sleeves of his trenchcoat, your arms wrapping around the collar. Already, you were caring for him. Without even realizing it.

“I missed you.” you say softly, resting your head against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, every little rise and fall of his breath. His hands gently rested against the small of your back, Butcher was genuinely scared of hurting you.

“I missed ya too, luv.” he says back, the usual gruffness in his tone softening.

Shrugging off his coat and putting his boots near the door, Butcher follows you to your living room. The couch creaks under his weight. He watches as you hand up his coat, leaning against the couch cushions.

As soon as you turn around, he pats his thigh, inviting you to sit in his lap. He wished he could grow used to this. Hell, wanted to grow used to this.

Eagerly, you sit down, wrists perched against his broad shoulders as you kiss his lips. Butcher melts into the kiss, leaning in with his hands resting on your hips.

He tilts his head, the coarseness of his beard rubbing against your chin.

Butcher pulls away for air, a stupid smirk on his face as he sees you catch your breath. “Missed me that much, eh luv? Outta breath all because of me?” he teases, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

“Shut up.” you say back, and he does that. You lean in for more, his hands scoot you closer to him by the hips. Being the man that he is, he pulls away in between kisses to make even more comments. “Can’t get enough of me, huh? Look at you, all desperate f’me like you’ve never kissed anyone else but me before. It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here for ya.” Butcher was admitting things he didn’t even realize he was saying, they came naturally to him.

He was saying things he’d probably admit after at least five shots of jack, things he’d probably never tell to your face.

And yet here he was, saying these things. While having you in his lap.

Pulling away and looking up at him, your eyes soften. “You really mean it?” You ask, mindlessly fiddling with the chain around his neck.

“I..” for a moment, he hesitates to reply. He's pushed away so many people in his life that he was scared of pushing you away too.

“I do.” He says, looking back at you with the most sincerity you've ever seen in his eyes.

“I really do mean it, luv.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Hi, I missed you, I love you can back <3

I need obslove with baji, murder, blood, jealousy, yk

Yandere!Baji Headcanons

♡ NSFW, fem reader, naive!reader, gf!reader, reader is in denial, jealousy, murder, blood, arson, toxic relationship, rough biting, soft sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation ♡

note: you're a person of few words anon, but I think I got the jist of what you were aiming for lol 🩷 I hope you enjoy

note 2: I just wanna take a second to thank y'all because I just realized I hit 700 FOLLOWERS 😭🫠 Who? What? When? Where? How? Why? I don't know the answers but I'm done asking questions, just know that I love y'all so much 🩷😫

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Possessiveness/Marking His Territory

At first you just thought that Baji just liked biting you as a joke, now you wake up every morning covered in bite marks and it's obviously not a joke at all. You don't mind, it seems like it's just a habit of his, like his own little form of affection. But sometimes, you're left to wonder if it's a sign of something more when he bites down hard enough to draw blood, or when he bites down even harder when you tell him it hurts. Of course it couldn't be anything serious though, besides, as long as he's happy it should be fine.

The Things He'll Do For Love

He's fully prepared to kill someone for you, just say the word and it's done. He won't kill right away though, he'll watch the person he plans on killing and leave them cryptic warnings. Most people realize something's wrong when their belongings start having random burn marks and holes on them. Fortunately, he's only had to kill one person that got too close to you. The way the guy's hands ghosted your hips and the way he looked at you just disgusted Baji to no end. He really didn't have a choice but to get rid of the guy and that's exactly what he did. It's so much easier to clean up a murder when you just light the whole crime scene on fire. Of course he was still considerate of you, he sat right next to you and held you when you got the news. He sat next to you at the funeral too, grateful for the closed casket.

Intimate Moments

Baji was very...affectionate, that's how you'd like to describe him anyway. Sex with him was so different from how he'd normally act, it was like he did a whole 180. He was so soft with you, treating you like porcelain, like you were so weak you'd crumble under his rough touch. Of course he'd still bite, but he was much more gentle about it, lightly sinking his teeth into you like a wolf that was scared to break a lamb's neck. His grip was firm on your hips and the way he thrust into you had you seeing stars. He'd always fuck you raw, he liked to feel every inch of you gripping him. The look on your face, the little noises you made, the sound of your pussy squelching every time he rammed into you, everything had Baji on cloud nine. He could never get enough of you and if satisfying himself meant cumming in your pussy all night and overstimulating you, then so be it.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi, I sent an ask, but I never saw an answer. Maybe Tumblr ate it. So I'll ask again. I'm looking for an old sterek fic where Stiles goes missing, and I actually think he was kidnapped. He gets free and returns to Beacon Hills, but he comes back with Ethan and Aiden, but they're like 12 years old, and Stiles trained them on martial arts, so they're fantastic fighters. They find Stiles is severely injured and he breaks into a bakery for food, but it sets off a silent alarm. Stiles was basically the pack mom and he'd been missing for like 5 years at least. That's all I can remember, sorry for the long ask. Thank you!

Hi @independent-thought-alarm! @midnightwinterhawk says it's this series.

The Guardians: The Ones That Stands Against by Trenchcoat Hunter (Reedt)

[cursedconstellation]

I just had the absolutely diabolical thought-

After Cas died the last time, Dean just shut down. He wouldn't let Sam speak of him, he wouldn't let himself think of him, if he saw a man in a familiar trenchcoat, he'd just turn away. Any of Cas' belongings made it to an old shoe-box, stashed away so well it could only gather dust, intentionally forgotten. As far as Dean Winchester was concerned, Cas might have not existed at all.

Sam, of course, wouldn't leave it alone. Every once in a while he'd mention the angel fleetingly, only to be ignored. He tried being forward, cornering Dean and begging him to at least acknowledge a part of their life was missing. He tried being careful and gentle in his approach, trying to spot a hint of vulnerability in Dean, that momentary, blink-and-you-miss-it look in his eye when he'd hear his name. He tried to be casual, off-handedly say something to catch him off guard.

"Oh, I think this was Cas' favourite mug," off to the shoebox it went.

"Cas really liked this song," and coincidentally, he'd never hear it again.

"Cas would've loved that," and whatever 'that' was would never be mentioned again.

No matter what he said, as soon as Cas' name was uttered, Dean suddenly could not hear it. Even when it was left unspoken, as soon as it became clear who 'he' that Sam incessantly talked about was, it fell on deaf ears.

Months went by, and Sam would not give up, he'd never give up. However his attempts would become more sparse and he'd go weeks without even trying to say anything alluding to Cas. In fact, at a certain point, although he could not remember exactly when, he actively avoided the topic, just as Dean did. Some days he was too tired to confront the reality of his brother being severely unwell, and played into it, just to give himself a couple of days of false normalcy. Because Dean was 'fine'. He said so every time Sam dared to ask. So, some days Sam allowed everything to be just 'fine'.

It was one of those streaks, then. They'd have breakfast together and make a small talk, about anything and everything - as long as Cas wasn't mentioned. Dean would make a bad joke, and Sam would roll his eyes. They fell back into decades long routine, only occasionally broken by Sam, who would always end up coming back to the topic of the angel. He'd always try and catch Dean off-guard, even though he knew the outcome by heart by then. Dean would simply look away, the same, dark look over his eyes, and while he'd stand still, the same as before Sam said anything, he seemed miles away.

That day Sam didn't plan on saying anything. In fact, he himself forgot about it, caught in Dean's denial. It was truly easier that way, to just take Dean at face value, to ignore the fact everything he said, did, or perhaps even thought was a facade. The day itself wasn't remarkable in any way, either. It was as if the entire world adjusted to ignore the fact Cas ever existed in it.

They had their usual banter over breakfast, only to split up after finishing - Sam hid away with his laptop in hands, Dean would leave to work on Baby. In fact he worked on her so much, Sam wasn't sure there was anything left to improve. He never doubted that was in fact what Dean was doing, as he'd always hear banging and scraping of metal even through the walls. It was like that then, too. There was clanking, and music, and occasional roars of the engine. Yet-

At one point it stopped.

Sam only noticed it after a couple of minutes - the music still played, echoing through the bunker, but there was no other sound accompanying it. There was no delicate vibrations from tools being tossed onto the floor.

Perhaps it was his hunter instincts kicking in, or perhaps simple paranoia, but there was something unsettling about that silence.

Sam carefully put his computer away and followed the music up the stairs, listening in closely for any sound of distress, or even any sound at all, but Led Zeppelin blaring from the speaker drowned everything out. Once he reached the garage and the music barely sounded like any melody at all, with mild annoyance, he turned it off, for a moment relishing in the sudden silence.

Except- he heard heavy breathing, as if someone was gasping for air despite being locked in a place deprived of oxygen. It was loud, it was panicked, it was-

It was Dean. Dean, sitting with his back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, tears streaming down his pale, clammy face. Before Sam could even move, Dean looked up at him, eyes wide and glistening, and he looked so terrified and helpless, for a moment it felt like he was just a scared kid, who saw something in the darkest corner of his room.

Between heavy, disorganised breaths, he managed to pant out,

"My ears keep ringing, and it sounds just like him."

[bunnybunbun0]

Boyfriend Cass headcanos!

Pairing: Castiel X reader

Warnings: based when little feathered lovie fell and became human

A/N: I wanna really get back on my feet when it comes to writing this year (happy new year's by the way!!) And what better way to start than headcanos? Not proofread and typed on my phone so probably much typos!

• I wanna start ou saying how adorable it would be helping him out to understand humanity!

• Just imagine in the morning he asking you for help to start the toaster cause he have no idea how but he knows he likes his bread toasted!

• once he got the hang of it better tho he would spoil you as best as he could with his limited skills and his clumsiness

• he'd make you a pbj every single time he makes one for himself,cause if he feels hungry he bet you does too

• becoming human would also make him so much more empathetic than he already is when it comes to you being hurt

•the tiniest scratch on you and he's fumbling with the first aid kit

•would be the CEO of taking care of you when you're on your period! Makes sure you drink plenty of water,gives you medicine for your cramps and eagerly massages every teensy part of your body

•confused anytime you make and obscure pop culture reference, giving you a more than glad excuse to introduce him to some of your favourite films

•i know this man loves gossip,so fill him in on every little drama happening everywhere,would listen to you babble about celebrity drama for hours

•when everything was set and he came back to the bunker he was sharing a room with you,and it was just an angelical drop on your girly room

• so you took him to a target to let him get a piece of decoration to make it sure it's his room too! He chose a bee plushie cause he's still fascinated by them<3

• honey would be his pet name for you,he thinks it's classic and still sustains his love for bees and for you

• your kisses are the only thing to make him relax when he's nervous or overthinking,he loves forehead kisses more than anything!

• he doesn't have much things but loves sharing what he has with you

• he's a true gentleman and always let you use his trenchcoat when it's windy

•loves loves loves holding hands!

• he loves being in contact with nature so expect a lot of outdoor dates like picnics or hikes

•is ridiculously gentlemanly, opens car doors for you,grabs your hands when you're coming down the stairs, and things like that

• his biggest role models to be a good boyfriend are things like really old black and white romances and radio novels

• as much as he doesn't say so he misses his angel days dearly,so the way to compensate it is telling you every single story of his celestial days

• he gives you a feather of his wings like a prized possession,as a reminder he'll always be with you with powers or not

•OMG WHEN HE DISCOVERS WHAT A CUDDLE IS!!! you're obligated to sleep flushed to his chest every night or else he wont have a good night sleep

•if you get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom or have a glass of water he will just follow you and wait for you staring at you like a cat with his sleepy eyes

• I feel like one day out of the blue he'll just randomly ask you to marry him

• when got confused and startled by his question he just said he thought that's what he did when humans loved each other

•long story short as soon as there's not an impending apocalypse you plan on tying the knot!

•the time of most happiness in his millenniums of life having a domestic life with you was his favourite thing

[joviepog]

Oh god this might become an issue. I’m in my hunger games phase and I’ve reread all the books and rewatched like, all the movies. So now I’m head over heels for young!coriolanus. Lmao enjoy my first BOSAS fic!

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Weakness

Warnings: Mention of killing, cursing, suggestive if you squint really hard, kissing (if I missed anything let me know!)

Who: Young! Coriolanus x reader

Pronouns: She / her

Word count: 1,122 words

Tag list: @phxntomsdusk @haunted-headset @ax-y10 @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons (ask to be added)

Main plot: Corio realizes he finally has a weakness after so long, you.

This story is NOT proofread!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-ᰔ-

Snow is used to being the most powerful in the room. He’s used to having control. He likes having control. In all his years he had never had power until now. So when he finds out he finally has a weakness after so many years, he almost panics. Almost.

Corio would only have one weakness. Your smile. And at first, he didnt pay it any mind.

He didnt pay it any mind when you were just an option. He didnt care at all when all he cared about was if you were dutiful enough to be the first lady of Panem.

But now?

God he hated himself for not paying it any mind beforehand. Because now that you sit here, next to him in a counsel meeting, he regrets ever picking you to be his wife. The way you smile sends his heart aflame. The way your eyes close and your head tilts when you smile makes his breath hitch ever so slightly. You were like the sun in a room filled with cold hearted people. Your dress only brought out your smile more and he hated the people that let you wear such a beautiful outfit.

For so long he tried to avoid seeing you. It was more because he saw no point in seeing you. The only reason he married you was for the money and for the eyes of the people. Not for love, not for romance, and definitely not for his own selfish desires. And at first it stayed that way. He feared that the more he saw your beautiful smile, the more in danger he would become. He only saw you during important counsel meetings that you had to attend to.

At first, he was going to “get rid of you” because of his new found weakness. He was going to blame it on “natural causes” and hope he could find another wife. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He told himself that it was “just in the meantime” so that he could have time to find a new wife. But suddenly he started looking forward to those counsel meetings. And suddenly he started to see you in the hallways, or the library, or even the garden.

Totally not because he had memorized your entire schedule.

He hated how fucking weak you made him feel. He wanted to figure out why. Why had you made his heart skip a beat ever time you spoke? Why had you made him choke on his own drink when you would simply look at him with a warmhearted smile? Why was it that you had him following you like a lovesick puppy around the mansion?

Why. Why. Why

To find his answers, he started to speak to you. Only to find answers of course. When he would see you in the library he would make smalltalk. He started to dine with you instead of eating in his office. He started to walk you to your chambers to make sure you got there safe. He even walked with you in the garden on a daily just to see y- to get answers.

He wrote all his feelings down one day. Just like a child would write in a diary. And he hated it. So he burned it and made sure there was o evidence of his lovesick words. He would toss and turn every night, thinking about you, wondering why the hell he felt the way he did. He would daydream everyday at work when you weren’t there, imagining you smiling in front of him. And when you were there he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Why were you so kind? Why did you smile at him every day? Why did you bring him his favorite food twice a week to his office?Why did he feel so helpless around you?

Why. Why. Why.

He asked himself this for a whole year. He soon began to get eye bags from not sleeping enough at night due to his tossing and turning. (He had to cover them up with makeup for public appearances) He soon became fond of your walks in the garden. (Sometimes holding your hand and adding more of the flowers you liked) He soon bought you new bookmarks with different colored roses for your books. (One almost every week) He soon began to pop into your office with your favorite food twice a week just to see your smile. (Just like you had done)

He was completely clueless to his own feeling. His thought process was that it was “For you not to feel uncomfortable.” It wasn’t until one day he overheard of the maids talking about how happy he had seemed since you came that something had clicked. Every time he was with you a slime crawled on his face. Every time he looked at you his gaze softened. Hell, every time he heard your name he would instantly cheer up!

“Shit.” He grumbled as he turned around and went to find you.

‘One last test.’ He thought. ‘One last test to see if i really do love her.’

So, he barged into the library. He saw you sitting by a large window, face hidden in a book and the sunlight hitting you softly. You looked like a goddess. You perked up when you saw him, a smile appearing on your face. That damn smile was going to be the end of him. “Coriolanus! I thought you had just left for a meeting-“ You were quickly stopped when he moved the book from your hands and kissed you.

It was an angry kiss -sure- but a passionate one at that. It took you a second to process what was happening before you kissed back. He put his hand on your cheeks as he bent down to kiss you on your chair. You could only put your hands on his chest to steady yourself. After a few moments, he pulled away and put his head on yours. You both gasped for air softly and his lips were only a few centimeters away. He looked down to your lips and you blushed. “Coriolanus? What was that fo-“

“It’s Corio for you. Corio.” He interrupts. You smile, that damn smile that captivated him a year ago. “Okay then Corio. What was that for?” He pulls away and smiles at you before turning away, “Just double checking something.” He then walks away and leaves you dumbfounded on the chair. And as he walks through the long hallway of his mansion, he tastes the strawberry chapstick that you had on his lips. He smiles as he walks to his meeting. What was he going to do with you? His only weakness.

If you do want to be added on my tag list pls let me know! If you want to be taken off, private message me :)

[dira333]

As always, here with a request for my bby Asahi for your plotbunny game❤️❤️

For you, my love, something special:

The Muse

Recently I've been thinking about Asahi as a muse. Yes, yes, I know he's the designer. But think about it. He's into fashion, he's going to dress well.

So you spot him in the streets, trenchcoat following him like the cape of a superhero or the trail of a wedding dress, and his hair, swallowing the sun, dropping from his head like Molasses. He's so strikingly beautiful that you just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and take pictures.

And of course, you can't just post these like that, you have to know if he's okay with that, so you run after him, reach him, finally, at the door to a coffee shop, and he doesn't hear you at first, your breathless mumbles over the noise of the people inside and the people outside, and all the cars rushing by.

"I'm so sorry, do you need help?" He asks, leaning closer, his breath washing over your face and you want to take another picture, like that, his face so close, his eyes so dark you fear you're going to drown in them.

"You're really pretty," you manage to get out, "I took some pictures for my blog, can I... can I post them?"

And then there's laughter, the heavy slap of a hand on his shoulder that almost pushes him into you, face into face - and maybe lips on lips?

"Did you hear that, Asahi? She thinks you're pretty. Why's no one taking pictures of me, huh?"

"Stop it, Suga!" The man, Asahi, it was - mumbles, his cheeks pink.

"Come on," Suga's grin is all sharp and teasing, though his eyes are warm and confident. He reminds you of a lioness or a crow. intelligent, though never with ill intent. "Sit with us. Show us the pictures."

Asahi agrees, over cups of overpriced coffee and your camera passed around, that you can post the pictures. He can't get enough of them, too, picking up the camera again and again for another look, pulling out a notepad to sketch something until he remembers he's got company and puts it away again, flustered, blushing up to the tips of his ears. He's incredibly cute and you want to do it gain, this, drinking coffee with him and his friends, but also that moment outside, when you'd seen him and time stopped, maybe permanently.

-

The next time is at the park.

You asked for his number and he asked for a chance to show you his newest collection.

You arrive a little early, get lost in the sea of fresh green and budding flowers. You spot him by accident, lying halfway behind a bush, trying to get a picture of a camera-shy squirrel.

He's standing in a circle of trees, their arms outstretched as if they are praying to him. Asahi's well dressed and while your followers are probably going to appreciate the outfit inspo on the picture, you can't stop snapping pictures of the way he looks up, face angled in a way that leaves his neck open, vulnerable... kissable.

Later, after you've climbed out of your hiding spot, the squirrel forgotten, after you've gone through his designs, you go through the pictures together.

Your heart beats painfully in your chest at each shot that appears on the screen. To you it's painfully clear, but you wonder if he sees it, the adoration seeping through.

He goes back and forth again, looks twice, three times over all the pictures, ignores the sound of his phone in his pocket.

If you hadn't been looking for it, you might have missed the redness spreading over his skin. You might have missed the way he leans into you as if trying to communicate over touch.

"You can post them... if you want."

"I won't do it," you tell him, voice soft and almost breathless. "Not all of them, I mean. Some are too... personal, to me."

Asahi smiles, soft and warm, like hot cocoa. The back of his hand knocks into yours and you grab it, eagerly, greedily, as if you'd been longing for it all of your life and only just now realized it.

"Can we do this again?" He asks on the way out of the park, hands swinging between you too. "I have some more designs I want to show you."

You think of them, how they had resembled you more than his usual stuff - because of course you googled his work the moment you said goodbye at the coffee shop - how your pictures had been more of him than fashion, and you nod.

"Yes. I'd love that.

-

When you step into the Genkan of your new apartment, there's a picture hanging on the opposite wall. Many visitors have commented on it, though you like to smile secretively when they ask what it's about.

A river of dark brown running over a canvas of milk? Brown silk over Linen? A painting, resembling your favorite colors?

They all get it wrong.

It's Asahi's hair, running smooth and heavy over his skin, his exposed temple, the side of his face that you kissed just moments prior. He'd been sleeping and the sunlight had hit him just right and the camera had been there and...

After all this time, he's still your favorite - perhaps only - muse.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

I wanted to avoid posting about this cause I prefer not experiencing spoilers and experiencing it all for the first time when I watch it with mio fratello but I have so many thoughts up in my teeny lil brain I just gotta post em.

First: Hank's gonna be Cyborg Supes! That was pretty obvious seeing how random his death was in the finale but it's still cool. I like how he's got the Lexcorp symbol on his chest.

In the bottom left you can see a Kryptonian (Kara it looks like?) with three other individuals, one of whom seems to be bearded. They all have long trenchcoat jacket things. Also on the left is Intergang. I guess they just needed to fill the screen up, unless these guys just casually go back to fighting Clark in S3.

Gods I hope Conner is the one who makes Lex bald that would be so in-character and funny. But also we got a Conner of color! Thank you MAWS for making the cast diverse cause the longer I stare at an all-white cast the further they all look like Zac Efron to me. Although his origin may be different since both Clark and Lex are so mela-non I think a sunburn would actually just kill them. Maybe he'll be experimented on and given the powers (and then at that point you could do animal testing and give us Krypto? Please??). Maybe he just has a different skin tone and it's not that deep. Idk but I can't wait to find out.

Punk Conner I've missed you. The only people who think the leather jacket look is dated and should have died in the 90s are also folks unaware of the punk scene today. Punk menace Conner you will always be famous to me.

"GET YOUR FUCKING DOG BITCH"

"It don't bite :)"

"YES IT DO"

[mlmxreader]

Social Calls | John Constantine x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ 45. "You can't save yourself or save your soul"

With Constantine please ❞

: ̗̀➛ Social calls with John aren't exactly a regular occurance, but they happen often enough that you've become more than used to it, and know to appreciate every single second of it.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

'Dancing with the Dead' by Powerwolf was playing loudly on the speaker as John carefully sat down on the stool nearest the window; taking note of the bedroom as best as he could with the low lighting. The bed had been made, and the television screen was still warm.

The window was wide open, more so than usual, thanks to the unusual bout of heat. Folded clothes on the bedside table waiting to be put away. He drummed his fingers against the windowsill, watching as the smoke from his cigarette followed the movements of his fingertips.

Impatient. Almost a clockwatcher.

But then the bathroom door audibly opened, and he relaxed as he got up and grabbed himself a drink from under the bed; quickly unscrewing the lid before taking a long, hard gulp of Grant's whisky. He put it down when he heard your footsteps coming closer, daring to smile, and he even waved when you finally walked in with the towel wrapped around your waist.

A quick shameless look followed by a sly raised brow of approval. You just scoffed, dropping the towel and tugging on a pair of grey jogging bottoms, quick to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

John smiled, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Shame, I preferred the towel."

You rolled your eyes. "You'd prefer if I wore nothing at all."

"Am I so predictable?" He asked with a shit eating grin and a soft laugh.

You reached for the bottle and took a long, hard swig before handing it back and stealing his cigarette. "So, why are you here? Another problem with Brucie?"

John shook his head slowly, raking a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Social call, believe it or not. You know how much I enjoy our private time."

You dared to smile back, trapping the inside of your bottom lip between your teeth for a split second. "You haven't made a social call in quite a while."

"So it's overdue," he bit back, another swig of whisky. Sharp on the tongue. "Is that an issue? It's not like you're going on a date now, is it?"

You scoffed, playfully offended at the suggestion. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, between us," he could hardly keep a straight face. "I know that you prefer me above everyone else."

"And?" You mused. "Why does that mean I can't go on a date with someone?"

"Because they're not me," he pointed out, knowing that he was fucking right. "Are they?"

You stood, getting between his legs and holding his shirt collar. Excitement in his eyes. "You really think you're so special, Johnny?"

He spread his legs, grabbed the waistband of your jogging bottoms, and tugged you closer. "Oh, I know I am."

You broke, laughing loudly as you pressed your mouth to the side of his head to try and muffle the sound but to no avail. "I missed you."

"I know," he murmured, almost lost in your laughter. "How you been, love?"

You hummed, pulling away and giving him the cigarette back so that you could play with his hair. "Not too bad, actually. Bruce keeps me busy, you know that."

"Hm," John nodded slowly. "Sounds like he wants to get in your trousers."

You couldn't help but to let out a bark of laughter. "Please! Bruce ain't interested in me... and he isn't my type, either."

"So what's your type?"

"Dirty blond," you started, "dirty trenchcoat. Bit of a pillock, really, but he's loveable. Snarky. Comes knocking on my door drunk as a skunk singing Delilah because he knows how loud I sing it at the rugby."

"He sounds like a charmer," John mused with a chuckle. "Can I meet him?"

That earned him a light playful smack to the back of his head, forcing him to look up at you with that stupid sly smile that always made you shiver.

"G'on, John," you dared. "Sing Delilah."

"You start," he told you.

"Now now," you tutted. "It's a dare. And I know you can't save yourself or save your soul, but a dare is a dare and the forfeit is that you'll have to go without your smokes for... let's say a day."

"Fine!" John huffed. "I saw the light on the night that I passed by her window, I saw the flickering shadow of love on her blind, she was my woman, as she deceived me I watched and went out of my mind - why the fuck do you lot sing this at the rugby?"

You shrugged, grinning. "It's our unofficial anthem. You should know that."

"Tom Jones isn't exactly my thing," he pointed out. "He's not exactly Rob Halford."

You let go of his hair, putting your hands on his shoulders and keeping him at arm's length for a moment. "Remember what I said about being a snarky pillock?"

"Mm."

"I've missed it," you whispered, kissing his cheek softly before sitting back at the edge of the bed. "You gonna stay the night?"

John considered it, knowing that it wouldn't be the first time. But the more time he spent with you, the closer you were brought to danger, and even with Bruce on your side, there were some things that you did not want to be near at all.

He was better off being closed and isolated, but... but you had a few magic tricks up your sleeve to make him forget all about that when you leaned back on the bed. Legs spread and your hands under your head. John grumbled, knowing he was more than weak. Shrugging off his trench coat and straddling your waist.

Trying not to grin when you grabbed his tie and yanked it. Feeling your breath on his skin as he hoped he wouldn't get too weak. Knowing that he already was the second that he leaned down and kissed you; all strength drained from him when your other hand went to his hair and grabbed the strands firmly.

Bollocks.

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, please consider sending some to help Hayam and her family

[peanutbutter-doodles]

He is....

Summary - ‘’W-what…i-is..it then…?’’ The young man asked, stuttering. Eyes widening with fear as he swallows nothing but the air in his lungs, trembling as the fire crackles before him and his fellow mates, all of them with different expressions. Ranging from boredom, excitement, fear or interest as the old man gets up and walks to him.

Crunching the leaves and bugs underneath those boots loudly, the crickets chirping and the faint sound of something being heard nearby but can’t be identify as…

_______________

No warnings ;D!

Note: mini fic!

Comments and Reblogs are Greatly appreciated!

The full moon would be white tonight,

Till a spill of red would be dropped.

Supernatural events will happen throughout,

Till the sun rises as soon as the moon will fade.

If some of you are out when the moon is full or have risen, take protection.

In the cabins, if there’s scratches on them. Avoid those, see any wolfsbane or a silver bullet around. Take it and collect it, load it and pump it.

You’ll be safe for the time being.

If you see the signs, read them and don’t look back.

If you are across from the woods, near them or at the entrance.

Don’t go into them.

If you look or peak, you’ll see…

‘’Holds up picture’’

A Bearded man with long black hair, long as day. 

Wearing leather clothing along with a black trenchcoat, staring at you with a smile that'll make you feel safe or wanted whence you've seen it but will make you scream when it turns upside down.

Brownish-goldish eyes that could pierced through your soul with just one look, claws that are sharp enough to maim or kill you and a voice that may sound inviting to some but demon-like to others.

He may seem kind or charismatic, but don’t be fooled by his looks or voice.

You’ll end up as his dinner or a toy to him.

Women and even men aren’t safe, especially for a pretty boy like you.

''M-me?!"

‘’He Points to a man with curly hair, doed eyes, face of innocence, wearing white pants with a purple crop along with black boots.’’

You might end up with him, I apologize but I don't want anyone to go missing, attacked or killed while you and all of you are under my watch. I may be an old man but that thing in there is no man, no ordinary man or creature at all. 

‘’W-what…i-is..it then…?’’ The young man asked, stuttering. Eyes widening with fear as he swallows nothing but the air in his lungs, trembling as the fire crackles before him and his fellow mates, all of them with different expressions. Ranging from boredom, excitement, fear or interest as the old man gets up and walks to him.

Crunching the leaves and bugs underneath those boots loudly, the crickets chirping and the faint sound of something being heard nearby but can’t be identify as…

The old man leans in, staring directly into the young man's face.

Without skipping a beat, the old man….

Speaks creepily…

‘’He is….’’

The young man's heart races, the old man breathes…

‘’The…’’

The others leaned in, surrounding the two of them as the moon glowed slightly. Clouds almost covered the moon as they passed…

‘’Devil…’’

Howling is heard….

‘’Himself.’’ 

[bangsinc]

🖤 Dot by Dot, Heart to Heart - Chapter One ⚪️

Hi everyone! So, this is my first fanfic. Ever, lol. I mean ever that I was confident enough to post. Credit to @trenchcoatbees for the wonderful idea! And thank you to @indago-snake for tagging me! So, this is going to be run by chapters, and I might upload it on Ao3. cool, right? Just gotta wait.

Enjoy! I hope the read more thing works

The Brooklyn streets came alive with the vibrant rhythm of the city, each step echoing with the pulse of a thousand stories aching to be told. Many stories had finished long ago, but not this one. His pace is quickened as he adjusts the misshapen, rather unfashionable hat atop his head.

A man walks through an empty alleyway in Brooklyn, a worn-down trenchcoat clinging to his misshapen figure. He was a man of many talents, but little features, the only discernible thing about him was the holes that lined his body, which was covered by blank, canvas like skin. He walks with no purpose, although he used to. He’s not the same man, not anymore at least. And nobody remembered who he once was.. not a soul who wandered the crooked, ever-changing streets of New York City cared to learn what happened to Dr. Jonathan Ohnn..

No.. not Jonathan Ohnn.

The spot.

He’d given that name up long ago, back when he had lost everything.

He walks the streets mindlessly, hoping to come across something that might help his dilemma. A man with a power he can’t even comprehend correctly, no friends, no family, no job.. not anymore. What was once everything he knew was nothing but an unfinished story, one that ended too early.

Spot steps on something, his foot quickly dragging away from it onto the pavement. He looks down, his orifice squinting to get a better view. The figure on this paper was oddly.. familiar. Perhaps it was something that could help him, although highly unlikely. He gave up looking for things such as that.

Things that.. who.. who is this?

He picks up the paper curiously, his opposing hand brushing the dust and attempting to straighten it to its former integrity. He wasn’t sure why this called to him so much.. it, it echoed to him almost. Like a distant memory, an old friend who was calling to him. A warm feeling he wished for, a feeling he hadn’t felt since the collider.. had..

Those who pass by might only see a man who’d found something of no interest. They pass with no curiosity or solicitousness, getting on with their lives as they always had. But The spot stayed there, his grip on the paper softening. It was a photo, more specifically of him. He’d know it from anywhere, from the idiotic, carefree smile he had to the hooked nose and unkempt hair. His fingers trace upon what once was, a tinge of envy settling in his new form.

But that wasn’t what truly had caught the enigmas attention. No, it was the words below his old photo. ‘MISSING’ was written in big, bold letters. The red font had faded with age, some of the text failing to be read, but he could understand the greater picture of the narritave, and it’s that someone was truly looking for him. Someone, out there, in the big bustling city of New York, missed him.

[afewproblems]

For the prompts #39 things you forgot to say and number 23 things you were forced to say steddie hurt/ comfort

Thank you for this combo - I hope I’ve done it justice but my hand slipped and this got long and it got sad…so I apologize in advance!

“Shit!” Steve hisses, wrenching his face away from the open oven door as a cloud of hot moist air rushes out, he wipes his face with the free hand not holding the oven door handle. 

“You good man?” Robin laughs from where she’s perched on the counter, her dangling legs swing joyfully back and forth. 

“Peachy,” Steve mutters, grabbing a hot-cloth to pull out the baking tray, he shakes the mini pigs in a blanket around to dislodge them from the foil before putting the tray back onto the middle rack, “put on another fifteen would ya?” he says over his shoulder to Robin.

She snatches the little blue egg timer from beside her thigh and twists it to the appropriate time before placing it back onto the counter. 

It's not the only snack he's prepared, granted to call it preparation would be a bit of a stretch. He had grabbed chips and pop, beer, and juice -just in case, that afternoon. It wasn't as though he hadn't needed a grocery run, and the most intensive snack was now baking in the oven, it wasn't all out, not really…

“Going all out I see,” she hums with a quirked eyebrow and a growing smile.

Steve smirks, ignoring the heat that blooms across his cheeks and ears that has nothing to do with the open oven door. She knows exactly what he's trying to do and who it's for. 

Eddie had somehow, after everything, burrowed his way into their lives and never left. 

And it was nice, he had a wicked sense of humor and warm brown eyes that made Steve's heart quicken in a way he couldn't quite explain. 

He and Robin had talked it to death in fact, analyzing each small moment, each lingering glance or touch that had occurred between them over the last few months since Eddie had been discharged from the hospital.

Steve had even begun hanging out with Eddie alone, invited along for movie nights in the new Munson trailer. 

***

“Come on,” Steve scoffs as he throws a handful of popcorn into Eddie’s face from his side of the couch, he laughs as Eddie meets the projectiles with an open mouth, “Han Solo Harrison Ford could totally take out Indiana Jones Harrison Ford, no contest!” 

Eddie snorts and shakes his head sagely, “Oh Steven, sweet Steven,” he takes a long drag on the joint between his fingers and blows it out through his nose, “you forget about Rick Deckard! The trenchcoat alone man!”

“Who?” Steve says as his face scrunches into a slight frown, he gestures for Eddie to pass the joint and takes a long pull before coughing roughly as the smoke hits his lungs, it’s been awhile since he’s actually smoked but, ah well, when in Rome.

Eddie grins and launches into an explanation of something called Blade Runner and the pros and cons of the retelling of something about electric sheep? He vaguely remembers the title on the Hawk Theater marquee, but he was also pretty sure that was the year he and Patty Campbell made out while The Thing played in the background, so he must have missed it. Steve feels himself drift away, slightly lost as Eddie continues to speak, he watches the way the metal-head’s hands fly around - emphatically gesturing as he lists his points. He’s so pretty like this, his eyes bright and his dimples on full display--

Oh. Oh shit.

The familiar bubble of warmth blooms inside his chest and travels up, spreading into his hands and dusting his face with a light pink that he hopes is obscured by the dim light in the Munson living room. Shit.

“Family video should have it, we’ll pick it up for next time,” Eddie hums, he reaches for the joint, letting his fingers brush Steve’s own and it feels like sparks dance along his skin. 

Oh, double shit.

Eddie suddenly sits up straight, his legs slide off of the couch and onto the floor, nearly toppling the ashtray on the rug. 

“I mean, not sure when we’ll get around to uh, to doing that though you know?” Eddie says quickly, keeping his face trained on the ashtray below as he drops the roach into it. It bounces once and hits the carpet prompting a low groan as Eddie scoops it up before the ash can stain. 

“With Hellfire I mean, I don’t,” Eddie swallows, he looks at Steve once before dropping his gaze back to the floor, “you know how difficult it can be to schedule the kids and then with trying to find a place to host everyone--”

“I could have you,” Steve says, the words leap from his mouth loudly with little to no thought, “I mean, I could host,” he says quickly, his ears feel as though they’ve been engulfed in flames but he presses on, “Hellfire I mean, you know, if you want?”

Eddie’s head tilts slightly as he finally turns to look at Steve once more, his large brown eyes flick back and forth between Steve’s own before he grins and clears his throat, tucking a handful of curls behind his ear. 

“Alright Big Boy, I’m preparing to be wow’d,” Eddie says as he leans back against the arm of the couch once more and brings his feet back up, stretching towards Steve - just shy of his thigh. 

Steve can’t help but beam at Eddie, even as his heart hammers at a mile a minute, he  leans into the ratty couch cushions as casually as possible, “Nothing but the best for his highness,” Steve murmurs as he points his face back towards Harrison Ford on the television screen. 

He calls Robin as soon as he gets home that night, it’s late, nearly midnight, but she still takes his call - much to the disapproval of her parents. 

Thank God for Robin Buckley.

“When are you going to get your own line Robs,” Steve huffs once Mrs. Buckley finishes scolding him for the late hour, he’s lucky she bothered to even get Robin for him but Steve has managed to ever so slightly charm Mr. and Mrs. Buckley over the last year or two. He’s fairly certain they think he and Robin are dating, but if that’s the case they haven’t said as much.

“Not all of us are rich you dick,” she yawns into the receiver, “now spill it, what's so important that you’re calling this late?”

“I..I think,” he swallows, the silence on the other end of the line makes the words stick in his throat, “I like someone, uh I’m kind of freaked out about it Robin…”

"You like Eddie, you mean?" Robin says, so matter-of-factly that Steve almost drops the phone, he scrambles to keep ahold of it, “Steve?” Robin’s confused voice floats out of the receiver in soft tinney tones as he brings it back up to his ear.

"How did you--”

“You’re not exactly subtle dingus, plus you had a crush on me before so I’ve gotten pretty good at seeing when you’re mooning over someone,” she says with a laugh in her voice, it finally manages to pull a small grin out of him.

Steve groans, pressing the heel of his hand into his left eye until stars flash in his vision, “What the hell am I going to do Buckley? I’ve offered my place to host Hellfire”.

“Why on earth would you do that?” She hisses in exasperation. 

“It just came out!”

She sighs and it crinkles in his ear like static, “Well then,” she hums after a beat, “we’re going to need a game plan”.

***

Steve shakes his head slightly, and winks at her, "You know everything I do is to impress you Buckley," he snarks back, flipping the oven door closed with a snap. Steve grabs a discarded tea towel from the counter to wipe his hands before he stretches the fabric out into a lax bridge between his hands, he spins the towel suddenly and whips it out to catch at Robin's jean clad knees.

She squawks and leaps away from the counter with a wide grin, "asshole," Robin says affectionately, snatching the makeshift weapon away from him.

She wanders over to the fridge, popping open the door and leaning down to inspect the shelves. Robin huffs out a breath, "I don't think I've ever seen this many drink options outside of a literal vending machine," she turns slightly to look over her shoulder, "not impressing anyone my ass". 

Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring the flutter of nerves in his chest, it wasn’t the first time he had hosted the kids for a game night but this was the first time for the rest of the Hellfire group and the first time Steve would be meeting Eddie's friends and bandmates.

It shouldn't be as nerve wracking as it is. 

"Is it too much?" he asks lowly, crossing his arms over his chest, it had been Robin’s idea after all to cater to their stomachs, as the old saying went.

Robin stands up with a can of coke in hand, she cracks the tab and sips it, her eyes never leaving his face, she stares contemplative for what feels like an eternity before eventually rolling her eyes. 

"Nah, as much as it pains me to say, I think it’s pretty perfect,” she tips the can towards him as if in a toast, “plus, if he still hasn’t caught it yet I'm sure you'll have to really spell it out.” 

Robin gestures towards the fridge with a wry smile, "perhaps using the bountiful drink selection you have for us".

Steve snorts and feels his chest slowly begin to unclench, "don't tempt me Bobs" he mutters under his breath.

A shout and chorus of groans and, 'what the fuck man's’ ring out from the living room where the group have set up, Steve snorts at the mutinous tone in Mike's voice which carries farther than any of the others.

"Better get a move on with the snacks, the mob is getting restless," Robin says sagely before grabbing a handful of chips from a nearby bowl.

Steve swears if he rolls his eyes harder they'd fall out, but he grabs two bowls and makes his way over to the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the dining room.

The sounds of arguing increases, as Steve steps over the threshold, he smiles fondly at the sight of the kids. Will has his face in his hands, he's seated cross legged in one of the dining room chairs, Lucas is seated next to him with an arm on his shoulder, his eyes volley back and forth watching Dustin and Mike snarking at each other. 

Mike is standing, leaning over the table and gesturing emphatically at the plastic mat draped over the wood surface of the Harrington dining room table. 

It had belonged to his maternal grandmother and had been collecting dust since Steve had been old enough to reach the stove, old enough to be left on his own while his parents traveled for work.

At least now it was finally being put to good use, maybe not as Nana Marino intended, but Steve didn't think she would have minded. 

Dustin stands as well and picks up a small model, thrusting it into Mike's face, "look me in the eyes and tell me you think that's a good plan," he snarls as Mike swats at Dustin's hand, the plastic goes flying as Mike's hand connects. 

"Hey, hey," Steve shouts as Dustin pushes Mike away by the shoulders, "break it up, Jesus Christ you two". 

He sets the snack bowls on the table, ignoring the huff from Lucas who immediately moves them off the mat. 

Steve rolls his eyes as he bends down to grab the discarded figurine, it's a tiny…dwarf? At least that's what Steve thinks, he's sure that Dustin has told him his character's name and that the word dwarf has been used a few times that night, but he's unsure -and the spotty paint job does nothing to make it clearer as he holds up the model to his eye line. 

"Whatever Steve, you don't get it, Dustin is being an asshole-"

"Me?! You're the one-" 

Steve blows out a sharp whistle before bringing his hands up to form a T shape, "Time out, Jesus, where is your mediator, your Dungeon Man?"

"You know that's not what he's called," Mike grumbles under his breath while Dustin scowls and points to the sliding glass door to the backyard. 

Steve nods and pockets the figurine, ignoring the loud, 'Hey!' that Dustin bites out as he wanders towards the door.

"Relax, you'll get him back when you can guarantee no one's going to have him jammed down their throat," Steve calls over his shoulder with a smirk.

Steve slides open the glass door and steps out into the cool evening air. The sun has set but the last hints of pink and periwinkle paint the horizon, bathing the yard in blue twilight. Steve hears voices from around the corner of the house and the unmistakable smell of cigarettes floats his way as he steps closer. He's about to clear his throat, announce himself, when he hears his own name. 

"So what's up with Harrington?" The first voice says, Gareth, Steve thinks to himself, he blinks at the tone, it's curious if a little…teasing?

"What about him?" Eddie says, a lighter clicks in the background before a short pause. The smell of tobacco blooms once more, stronger now than before. Steve settles against the wall of the house, it's not right to eavesdrop -he knows that, but he can't help but wait, his feet rooted alongside his mothers rhododendrons.

"I mean come on, how is it that King Steve is hosting us in this fucking 'McMansion'," another voice says sharply, Jeff, Steve thinks, ignoring the small wave of hurt at the old title. 

"It's just…,” there’s a pause, “kinda weird man," Gareth says quietly. Gravel crunches and for a heart stopping moment Steve thinks he'll be caught, "I didn't think you were friends?" 

Steve presses himself into the wall, willing himself to move, to run back to the house as quickly and quietly as he can, but he can’t seem to move, he holds his breath as Eddie speaks.

Eddie snorts, "You think I'm friends with a guy like that?" 

The words hit Steve harder than he thought they would, cutting into his chest, settling in alongside, Bullshit, and, Asshole. They curl together and sink into his skin like a bruise.  

"It's okay if you are Eddie," Gareth tries again, a soft grunt joins the words, and Jeff mutters something in begrudging agreement.

Eddie laughs. 

He fucking laughs.

"You guys are hysterical, he's friends with the sheepies, and yeah he offered this house, why wouldn't we want to take advantage of it?"

Right.

Steve nods to himself, letting the last threads of hope tear apart, he slips away from the wall as quietly as possible and makes his way back to the sliding glass door, grateful he left it open, silently making his escape.

He closes it as quietly as possible and considers latching the door for a brief moment before scrubbing his hand roughly over his face. 

That was the old Steve talking, the one who would have locked the doors and kicked everyone out over something as trivial as someone not wanting to be his friend. The one who rejected others before they could reject him first, who wrapped himself in barbs and venom and sneered at people who were unapologetically different. Like Eddie.

But Eddie wasn't just someone, and Steve hadn’t been King of anything for a long time.

And, unless Eddie had forgotten, Steve was fairly certain they were friends, or at least it shouldn’t have been a completely unfounded thought that he and Eddie were at least on some kind of friendly terms.

Steve shakes his head and swallows the newly formed lump in his throat. 

He always did this, his heart ran ahead of his head and got itself hurt, again. At least this time he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself.

Steve sighs and tamps down the wave of hurt that sweeps through his chest, he shoves it into a corner, into a little box on its own, and shuts the lid. 

It was fine, he was fine. 

The kids have settled down at this point as Steve walks back towards the dining room table. Mike is laughing at something, Will's face has been removed from his hands and Dustin and Lucas are indulging in handfuls of chips from the bowls Steve had brought out earlier. One is nearly empty and at least Will has the good graces to look sheepish as he spots Steve walking in. 

"Sorry Steve," Will says with a soft smile, as he grabs the bowl to hand over, "We might have gotten a little carried away". 

Steve smiles but it's tight at the edges as he reaches out to take the bowl, he can feel Will's eyes on him as he moves to the other side of the table towards the kitchen door, "don't worry about it little Byers," Steve mumbles mostly to himself. He misses the worried glances that Will and Dustin exchange with one another as he walks back into the kitchen. 

Robin has left her perch on the counter to stand beside the oven, magazine in hand, she doesn't look up as he walks in and places the bowl on the counter. 

Robin looks over at the egg timer with narrowed eyes, "five more minutes, wanna have a look at em?" she hums as she puts the magazine on the counter, a picture of the Charlie's Angels graces the cover.

He shakes his head and grabs another bag of chips for the kids to put out, Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose --Robin knows him too well at this point to miss such a gesture. 

He clears his throat, "I'm sure they're good Robbie, let me just bring more fuel for the goblins out there". 

Steve meets her gaze for just a moment, her eyes narrow at him now and trace over his face. He rolls his shoulders, shaking off her stare and turns on his heel as Robin opens her mouth to say something, he beats her to the punch, "You stare any harder, you're going to turn into the Terminator scanning me like that Robbie”. 

It works for a moment, throwing her off kilter just enough for him to escape to the dining room as a laugh tumbles out of her open mouth.

The older boys have rejoined the group as Steve makes his way to the table with the refill, Dustin makes grabby-hands at the bowl which Steve hands over with a roll of his eyes. 

Jeff is seated next to Dustin, his eyes trail after Steve but his expression seems neutral enough for the moment. Gareth sits in between Will and Lucas, his gaze resting pensively on the figurine in his hands, he looks up when Steve enters and a small friendly smile slowly blooms, it settles Steve - just enough to allow a small smile back. 

Eddie stands on the far side of the table, where a binder has been propped up to block his notebooks and dice, his arms are crossed tightly across his chest and his shoulders form a stiff line. He’s frowning slightly at his books, if he sees Steve walk in he doesn’t acknowledge it.

 Steve's chest tightens at the sight, he gathers up the second wave of hurt and sweeps it away once again, latching the lid of the box this time.

How the hell did he read this so wrong? Where was the Eddie that shared in private jokes, leaning over to share an aside to Steve that was just for them, the one who called him Stevie and slung a warm arm around his shoulders as they watched bad movies late into the night.

Had he done something, Steve wonders? Something to piss Eddie off tonight? 

He wracks his brain, sifting through the events of the evening but nothing comes to mind. They had barely said two words to each other before Eddie had disappeared while Steve and Robin were cooking in the kitchen.

So where was this coming from?

Lucas leans over the mat on the table to snag another handful of chips,littering crumbs over the crudely drawn map and character models, Eddie tisks loudly and leans over to blow away the crumbs.

"You always get the best snacks man," Lucas says brightly through his mouthful to Steve, “and maybe even, make the best ones?” 

Dustin, Will, and Mike all turn expectantly to Steve, Dustin and Will with open hopeful expressions and even Mike has removed his perpetual scowl to look at Steve with something closer to begrudging anticipation.

“Yeah, it should be done right away here, gotta keep you assholes well fed before you go out and terrorize Waterdeep right?” Steve 

"Since when does King Steve know D&D?" Jeff asks with a laugh, his eyebrows crease together incredulously and he and Eddie share a look. 

“Jeff,” Gareth mutters at the same time that Dustin says, “I’ve been trying to convince Steve to play with us for ages but--”

“Pfft, Harrington? Play Dungeons and Dragons? I’d know if Hell had frozen over Dustin,” Eddie scoffs as he sits down roughly in his seat behind the binder, from where Steve is standing it obscures Eddie's face before he leans back in the dining chair. 

Right. 

Steve nods once and clears his throat before turning away from the kids, he avoids Dustin’s gaze which burns into the side of his face, “I think the timer is about to go, I’ll uh, be back in a sec”.

He walks swiftly in three strides towards the door, letting his foot catch it as it swings open with a thunk. 

“What the fuck Eddie,” Steve barely hear’s Mike’s muffled words through the closed door as he walks towards the counter and snatches the hot-cloth from where it lay next to the timer. They offer little comfort as he wrenches open the oven door.

“Steve?” Robin says softly, she’s using her wounded-bunny voice that he absolutely hates. He ignores it and the way it makes his chest clench again, the box is getting too full for this. 

“Steve,” Robin says again, she reaches out to touch his shoulder but he keeps moving and grabs the pan from the oven. A few of the pigs in a blanket are burnt, the dark brown, almost black, singing on the edges mars just of a few of them. 

It’s the last straw of the night. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, slamming the tray onto the stovetop with so much force that one of the pigs goes flying, he winces as it hits the floor. 

Steve bends in half to grab it, ignoring the sting as the hot pastry and meat connects with his fingers. He tosses it into the sink with a muffled metallic thud. 

“Jesus Steve,” Robin hisses at him, her eyes dart back and forth between his face and the closed kitchen door, “what the fuck happened in there?”

“Nothing Robin, just drop it,” Steve growls as he wrenches the cupboard open and takes out a large plate. He can’t do this now, not while everyone is still here.

“Steve?” a small voice says from the door, Dustin slowly walks into kitchen, approaching the pair of them like wild animals, “I wanted to--”

“Oh shit, right,” Steve says, deflating as he remembers. 

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly through his nose before pulling out the small dwarf model from his pocket, Steve tosses it over to Dustin who just manages to catch it. 

“Sorry man,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head as he schools his expression into something flatter, more neutral, “completely forgot about him, if you want to wait a second I’ll get these on a plate you can bring them over to everyone--”

“No, Steve--”

“I think we have mustard in the fridge and maybe a little relish left, I’m not sure what all goes with these guys,” Steve mutters, crossing to the fridge, he opens the door and sticks his head in.

“Steve--”

“Or what everyone else likes, um, you know what, just take all of these,” he sighs, gathering up the bottles and jars in his arms, he brings them over to the counter beside the plate and brings his foot back to kick the fridge door closed once more. 

Steve turns off the oven and haphazardly tosses the remaining pigs onto the plate before turning around to Dustin and Robin. Dustin’s face is pinched and red, his mouth cast into a deep troubled frown, while Robin scowls with narrowed eyes but the smallest hint of worry seeps through. 

“Anyway,” Steve mumbles, avoiding their gaze, “don’t destroy the house, just let me know when you go, and I’ll lock up”.

Steve sighs again and sweeps his hair away from his face, “I think I’m just going to go lay down for a bit, migraine,” he says, lifting his hand to gesture towards his forehead. 

It’s not even a lie, a steady ache has been building behind his eyes since he overheard the elder Hellfire members talking in the yard. He tosses the cloth in his hands on the counter and turns to the main hallway to head upstairs. 

“Have fun,” Steve says softly before sweeping away down the hallway. 

Steve makes it about halfway up the stairs before he hears light foot-falls on the carpet behind him, he glances over his shoulder to see Robin following silently. 

She’s still looking at him with an irritated scowl but her worried blue eyes undercut the ferocity he’s sure she is going for, Steve sighs and continues climbing, knowing she wouldn’t listen to him even if he told her to go. 

Steve opens his bedroom door and flips on the light for them, wincing at the sudden brightness, he closes his eyes and walks until his knees hit the bed and lets himself fall gracelessly onto the mattress. He hears Robin wander over to the desk lamp, turning it on with a small snick, she crosses the room again and flicks off the ceiling light before closing the door and joining him on the bed. 

“So,” she hums, prodding him roughly between the ribs with a rigid pointer finger, Steve jolts and makes a muffled squawk into the covers, “are you going to actually tell me what’s wrong or are you going to take it out on more pork products?”

Steve rolls over slowly onto his back before bringing his lower lip up to chew on. Robin’s eyes grow softer the longer he takes to speak, he has to tell her. 

“I was wrong Robin, we were wrong, he practically hates me,” Steve whispers to the ceiling, he feels her shift on the bed beside him, inching even closer. 

“Eddie??” Robin whispers as she reaches out to place her hand firmly on Steve’s chest and rubs a soothing circle over his heart, “you-- no, that’s not true”.

“I overheard him,” Steve says eventually, he clears his throat and reaches up to wipe his eyes which have begun to sting, damn migraine, “outside when I went to grab them, they were talking about me”.

Her hand freezes and her fingers clench into his sweater, Steve reaches up to gently pry her hand away, he offers a firm squeeze of her smaller palm. 

“What did he say Steve,” she whispers, her eyes dart over his face, as though cataloging each small change in his expression. 

Steve chews his lip again, this time, keeping a careful lock on the words before they tumble out, “just leave it alone Robbie,” he says softly, “I just want to forget this ever happened”.

Steve turns over onto his side, pillowing his head under his arm. He scootches over to make more room for her.

Robin hesitates for just a moment, turning towards the door with fire in her eyes, before Steve tugs on her hand, stealing her closer, down beside him.  

Robin sighs as she curls up, she reaches over with her one free hand and pokes his chest again, hitting him square in the sternum, “he didn’t deserve you anyway, he’s your Tammy Thompson,” Robin says shrewdly, nodding once to herself, “and my villain origin story,” she mutters after a beat, under her breath. 

Steve closes his eyes and nods silently, the words are meant to be comforting, he knows, but what little balm they contain do not help with the ache deep in his chest.

Steve opens his eyes as Robin kicks at his foot, probably harder than she means to, she at least has the good graces to look sorry. 

“I mean it dingus,” she murmurs, “I wouldn’t lie to you, and us single losers have to stick together after all”.

Steve laughs brightly and pulls her closer, letting himself bask in her warmth.

She wasn’t wrong, at least they had each other, and maybe, for now, that was enough.

You can read Part Two Here

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Random TokRev Headcanons (SFW)

note: just some random thoughts I had, this cold is kicking my ass lol

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🩷 Mitsuya might seem like the mom of the group, but he loves doing stupid shit just as much as his friends

🩷 Kisaki's first job was being a tutor

🩷 Shinichiro taught Emma how to braid and they'd use Takeomi as a test subject

🩷 Hanma pissed Kisaki off so bad once that Kisaki pushed him down the steps later that day

🩷 Baji is bad at writing, but surprisingly good at math

🩷 Chifuyu can juggle, it's just something he thought would be fun to learn

🩷 Kazutora chose to get a tattoo of a tiger not just because of his name, but because he sees them as strong, brave, and protective (everything he wants to be)

🩷 Draken hits his head on a lot of doorways because he forgets to duck down

🩷 Rindou tried to teach Ran how to do a backflip and Ran almost broke his neck

🩷 Izana plays the guitar (canon) and learns Kakucho's favorite song so he can play it for him on his birthday

🩷 Ran accidentally smacked Rindou in the face with his baton and broke his glasses

🩷 Pah-Chin once flipped a table over because he was losing a game of uno

🩷 Mikey sleeps so much that he misses meals, so Draken and the other captains have to remind him to eat

🩷 Takemichi is super charismatic, he's just awkward around people

🩷 Taiju owns a bunch of shark themed stuff, plushies, pillows, jewelry, even plates

🩷 Hakkai grew his hair out after Mitsuya suggested he'd look good with long hair

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @rinsprttyg @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies