#and my brain might turn it into 10 if i come up with an idea for a scene with tommy

[mustlovesteve]

this sequel miniseries was supposed to be 5 chapters

how did it end up like this it was ONLY A KISS IT WAS ONLY A KISS NOW I'M--

[ramblingautisticman]

So, I haven't stopped thinking about the dyslexic Wade headcannon- like at all- so here is the second part/expansive of this post!

I really like the idea of him being really insecure about it but slowly accepting it more and being more open about it.

I also wrote from my experience, and I'm not officially diagnosed don't come at me, but I struggle alot with reading and writing so yeah!

Anyway, enjoy. Please. I hope everyone likes this as much as I do!

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It isn't that Wade can't read- or that he doesn't want to- it's more that it's a massive fucking struggle. Most of the time anyway.

He's always had trouble reading (and spelling, but he can avoid that with emojis now! How technology grows!) ever since he was a kid.

And maybe it's because he didn't grow up in a great environment, or maybe it's because he was never really encouraged, but Wade never ever mentions it. Not to anyone.

He never told anyone when he was in school that sometimes words didn't really make sense to him, and that he was behind in work because of it, not because he would sit and talk (though he did that too). He never told anyone that he preferred art over english because it was easier to understand a picture to him than it was words. He never told anyone that he struggled to spell simple words like "bakery" and "shopping" but could spell "because" and "beautiful" because of a stupid rhyme he had heard once.

It was just something he had grown up with- something he had assumed other kids dealt with- u til he got to high school. Suddenly, he was surrounded by people writing 3000 word essays like they were nothing and people reading 200 page books during lunch, all while Wade still hadn't finished a single book he owned. While Wade still struggled to understand words that weren't in a specific font or colour- something he had realised shortly after turning 10- and everyone around him could just do it. They didn't take 10 minutes to finish a page of a book. They didn't get headaches from the concentration he had to use while staring at a page trying to figure out if the word "wandering" was spelt correctly. They didn't struggle to read the teachers writing because of the cursive writing. They could all just do it and Wade had to just sit and try.

Naturally, people noticed that he would read slowly and awkwardly when they read aloud in class, or that his work always came back covered in red pen from where he had misspelled simple words. He quickly became a target for bullying. Honestly, he probably wouldn't feel as self conscious as he does if that hadn't happened. If teachers had just stepped in and helped- noticed that something was wrong- he would've gotten some help and grown up with accommodations that would've helped him succeed. But he didn't get any of that. He got bullied for reading slowly and being dumb. He got kicked and punched because he had been spotted reading a book meant for younger kids (big mistake).

Wade tried. He did. He read books as often as he could to try and make his brain click- and it never worked. He would try and spell random words- and sometimes he got them and sometimes he didnt- and eventually he gave up. Eventually he succumbed to the voice in his head telling him he was stupid and that he was just going to have to go through life suffering.

And as he got older, he figured out stuff that helped and stuff that didn't. He managed to find a few fonts that helped, a few overlays that made it easier, and a few things to remind him how to spell certain words he usually struggled with.

He also got better at hiding it. Wade would tell people he preferred calls over text. He would open birthday cards and smile at the writing even if he couldn't quiet make out what it said. He would avoid anything that involved him reading in public.

And again, not because he couldn't read, but because it might take him alittle longer than it should, and the idea people would notice made his stomach fill with anxiety, sending him right back to being that scrawny kid I high-school who got beaten up every lunch time.

All of that only got worse after his accident. Well, the cancer and the torture and the murders, but ya know.

Now people were staring at him anyway. People would look and gasp and gawk as he walked down the street or went to the store to get groceries. Everywhere he went people stared. Everywhere.

So instead of being slightly worried people would notice him focusing too hard on reading, he was fully aware people were staring at him constantly because of his skin, and he liked to avoid giving them anymore reasons to stare.

To his suprise though, moving in with Al had helped. She was the only person he had told, and she was the only person who seemed to understand, telling him about something called dyslexia and telling him that his brain just worked alittle different than his. Then proceeded to pass out after using the last of her cocaine- but the thought was still there.

And she didn't seem to mind that he read alittle slower sometimes, because she still asked him to read her mail to her, and sometimes write letters or cards. Wade would have to ask her how to spell the words, but she never seemed to get angry about it, and she always seemed to know how to spell them. Plus, if anyone noticed it wasn't spelt right, they could blame it on her being blind (how was the recipient to know this letter hadn't been writing by Al? She could probably write stuff if she wanted. She's blind, not stupid.).

When he started to gain friends and family- somehow gaining a little group of them- he didn't feel as bad about them noticing. He still didn't say anything- didn't make it obvious- but he wanted them to know he read there cards. Make sure they knew he read the group chat messages. Make sure they knew he did care (and for some reason, probably because the writer loves this headcannon, it seemed like alot of him showing his cared had to do with reading and spelling), writing them birthday cards and Christmas cards, and responding to every single message.

He found a quick way around the messages. That was easy. Emojis, memes and gifs quickly became his best friend. They were easy to dichiper most of the time, and Wade loved them, so it was a win win! He did write things too, and auto correct usually helped if he was struggling that day, but he was getting better thanks to Al and her bossing about of writing letters to her grandkids.

Writing cards took a little longer, but he spent alot of time on each one, making sure everything look neat and was spelt well. It always made him proud giving someone a card that he knew he spent so much time on, perfecting every last word.

When Logan moved in, it was a topic Wade was trying to avoid. He knew he should tell him- they were getting closer and closer each passing day- but he always felt so stupid trying to explain it. It made him feel stupid, even if he knew he wasn't. Most of the time.

Luckily, it doesn't actually come up for awhile, not until they have moved into their own place and Wade is handing Logan a birthday card with a huge grin on his face, practically bouncing on his feet.

And Logan opens it and reads it, and smirks a little because "I don't think the word awesome is spelt like that" and suddenly Wade's smile is wiped off his face.

He really had tried- maybe he didn't read the word properly off his phone or something- because Wade is taking the card and trying his best to quickly read it but can't, and he let's out a grunt of frustration because rambling at Logan apologetically. "I really tried to fucking spell everything right- I'm the idiot for fucking trying to read the word to spell it- I mean, who does that when you can't even read properly? I can re-do it- gimme like an hour and a half to go get a new card and get Al on the phone to just ask her how to spell it and then I can give you one that isn't fucked up-"

And Logan shuts him up with a small kiss to the forehead, telling him that he "likes this one just fine, has more charm" and Wade wants that to feel reassuring but it somehow doesn't, and it just makes him more annoyed.

So after a small melt down and a good cry in the shower for fucking up Logan's birthday, he explains it to Logan. Tells him about how he sometimes struggles with reading and spelling, but he really did try with the card. He really does try to read and write properly but some days it's hard and some days he can do it easier, and that he never really told anyone until he met Al. He messily rambles about everything- including the bullying- and Wade expects to be met with some laugh or ridicule. Though, this is Logan- and somehow this man loves every other part of him- so why wouldn't he love this part too?

And Logan just apologises to Wade that he made him feel bad about misspelling the word awesome- makes a joke about how it's a hard word to spell- and that Wade shouldn't have been bullied for something he couldn't help. Tells him that it's nothing to be ashamed off, and that he shouldn't let it hold him back. Tells him that if he ever needs help with spelling something he can ask Logan, that if he ever can't figure out a word that he can ask Logan, asks if there are any accommodations he uses to help him.

And Wade tells him the things that help, the things that don't, thanks him for the offer of help, and suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying that Logan knows. Suddenly he feels better about it. Sure, Al had helped, but hearing this from Logan made him feel less afraid to hide it. Made him feel better about telling his friends so they knew.

And Logan stays true to his words. He helps him when he is struggling with a word- never jumps in a reads stuff or spells things without being asked first- and even uses some of the accommodations. He has his phone set to a font Wade can read easier, and his next birthday card is in big bold writing (Logan's writing is normally really scribbly and hard to read) and on a colour that helps him focus on the words more.

And he tells his friends and they understand, they do the same. They help if asked, they don't rush him in reading their cards or messages- Yukio starts to use more emojis and Collosus tries his best to give Wade mission debriefs in person or voice messages- and it helps him immensely. He gets more confident about his reading and writing, and he starts to work on ut even more. And yeah, he can't get rid of his dyslexia, but he can try and find new ways that help him. He can find books in safe fonts and listen to the audio book as he reads to help (Though, he does prefer listening to Logan read to him, because his voice is so smooth and gruff somehow, and he could listen to it for hours).

Wade hated that stupid part of himself for so long, but now- even if he is 47- he doesn't really mind it anymore. He makes jokes about his spelling errors or words he missreads, and he works on finding new things to help with Logan, and everything is alittle bit easier knowing he isn't going to be ridiculed and judged.

(People who said they wanted this, I hope you enjoy! @wadewnstonwilson @logictoinsanity @zerotoqueero @superbattrash @spoopderman @klszkas @ohitsthemindstuffagain @mangoob @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes (tagging yall who said you wanted to read it!))

[mismatched-sockss]

You're my future, past and present

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.

You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.

Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.

The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.

You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.

This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.

What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...

Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.

Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.

He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.

At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.

That's when it happened.

Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.

Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.

Now he had to knock.

Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.

A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.

You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.

“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.

You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”

God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.

His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...

He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.

And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.

“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.

His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.

'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.

A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.

“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.

The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.

“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”

Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.

A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.

You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.

With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.

“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.

Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”

He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.

“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.

“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”

Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”

You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.

He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”

“I'd really like that.”

It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.

[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]

About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.

He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.

The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.

Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.

After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.

Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.

“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"

"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”

“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.

“Rossi got married last year.”

“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.

“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.

“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”

“...Oh”

For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?

Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.

He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.

He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”

“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.

“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.

“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.

Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.

“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”

Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.

He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.

Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.

What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.

“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.

“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”

Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.

His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.

Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

[themultifanshipper]

penny for more thoughts on paddock bunny reader 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

If you were asked to describe your status on the grid, you wouldn't say paddock bunny.

You were friends with the drivers, and sometimes you fucked them. Simple as that.

Warnings: Foursome?, but two are just voyeurs, Dom reader, Sub Lando, Max and Charles are just there, choking, PinV sex, teasing, dirty talk? Praising, one singular use of mommy, bc Lando has a mommy kink but it's not him that says it, Lando get humiliated in this one guys but he likes it I swear

Part 2 of One of the Boys

If the drivers were asked, they'd say "she's just one of the boys" with a smirk, and move on.

It was more like a reverse harem, you decided who, when and where you fucked. It was all completely under your control, and that was how you liked it.

Some of them might get a bit possessive from time to time, but they understood your limits, and always respected your decisions.

That didn’t mean you didn't like to indulge a little bit, though.

Take Lando’s win in Zandvoort for example.

Max and Charles were two of the most possessive brats of the lot, and Lando knew just how to torture them.

You were in his hotel room, ready to give him his reward, when he told you his plan.

Why not invite Max and Charles over to watch? And only watch, while Lando fucked your brains out in front of them.

The size of this man's ego…

It was a fucking wonderful idea, you thought, and you sent a text in the group chat to tell Max and Charles to come over.

It took them less than 10 minutes.

Meanwhile you and Lando had arranged the room for your convenience.

You placed two chairs a the foot of the bed, for Max and Charles, and lay down on your stomach, propped up on your arms while you waited.

What Lando didn't know was that although he just wanted an ego boost, to show off in front of his rivals, you had other plans for him.

You wanted to knock him down a peg. Lando was a switch by nature, but you knew just how to push his buttons to make him whimper and squirm in no time, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

When the knock came, Lando opened the door and let them in.

You explained the rules to them: they were free to touch themselves, but no touching you, and no talking. This was all about Lando, not them.

Once the two were firmly seated, Lando got to work, spreading your legs and using his expert tongue and fingers to make you drip down his face as you heard the tell tale noise of zippers opening.

As Lando worked, you moaned loudly, overplaying it a bit, and Lando assumed it was to put on a show for Max and Charles. But you knew exactly what you were doing, it wasn't for their benefit, it was for his.

Lando quickly made your legs shake and you got close to coming, but at the last moment he retracted himself and you were left gasping and scowling at him.

He was going to be mean, huh? Well you could be meaner.

“I don't want you to come unless it's on my cock, sweetheart. Turn over and lift your hips for me”

An opportunity! You bit your lip to hide the smirk threatening to appear on your face.

“No baby, you won the race, it's your reward. I want to ride you.” You purred in your most seductive voice.

His resolve slipped so fast, bless his heart.

“You're right, I'll let you do the work” he tried to remain cocky as he lay down, head at the edge of the bed on the boys' side so you were facing them, “Why don't you show them how good my cock makes you feel, love”

‘More like I’ll show them how good my pussy makes you feel, you smug bastard.’ You thought.

You straddled him and winked at the other two, both of them palming their bulges though their underwear.

You held his cock against you, barely pushing the tip in as you rubbed it up and down your slit.

You could tell Lando was tensing up under you, but there was no way he was going to submit to you in front of his friends and ask for what he wanted.

So you lay his cock down against his lower stomach and rubbed your cunt over it, rolling your hips enticingly while looking at Lando through lidded eyes as his tip bumped your clit on every glide.

His pupils doubled in size and you knew you were on the right track.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, although the others were barely 2 meters away so they heard perfectly.

You leant down and kissed him sweetly.

“Giving you your reward, baby. I'm making you feel good, aren't I?”

He gasped out a yes and you bit his lip lightly, knowing that would drive him nuts.

His hands went to your hips to lift you off his cock slightly and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“I'm gonna fuck you now, love”

Adorable, he was trying to put up a façade in front of the others but it was rapidly crumbling.

You raised an eyebrow at him and took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip with your thumb. His hips bucked up involuntarily.

“And what's the magic word?”

He blushed and glanced at Max, who was closest to him.

You grabbed his jaw and turned his face back to you.

“Don't look at them, they’re not here. It's just the two of us.” Lando licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Now tell me, what do you want?”

He shuddered at your tone.

“I want to be inside you” he whispered.

You hummed and squeezed around his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds again to tease him.

You looked at him pointedly, waiting.

He blushed and his brain went fuzzy for a second before he spoke.

“Please”

“What was that? I can't hear you if you mumble” you popped just his tip inside before taking it out and resuming your movements.

He took a deep breath. “Please”

Bingo.

“Good boy”

You sank down on him in one go and he let out a guttural moan at both the stimulation and the praise.

You heard a sharp intake of breath next to you and you looked over to see Max and Charles gripping themselves, jaws dropped as they looked at Lando.

Now you were giving them a worthy show.

You looked back down and Lando had his eyes screwed shut.

This was so easy.

You raised your hips and dropped them back down, pulling a strangled moan from him before starting a rough pace, hands on his chest for leverage.

You clenched around him rhythmically and he whimpered every time. It was mean, but damn it if you weren't enjoying the sight of the cocky two time race winner falling apart under you.

His hips were jumping in time with your movements, which was a telltale sign that he was getting close.

“Lando look at me” he opened his eyes and moaned.

God, he always responded so well to your orders it was insane.

“Don't you dare come before me, baby”

He shuddered. “But I'm so close”

You chuckled. “Then you'd better hold it.”

“I can't” he whined.

“You can, and you will. Or you're never seeing this pussy again, Lando”

His eyes filled with tears and he gasped.

“No! Please, I need to come so bad”

You leaned down to mouth at his neck. “Then you'd better help me out, because I'm nowhere near, baby”

That was a lie. You were on the edge as well, you just wanted to see how desperate you could get Lando.

His hand went to where you were joined and he rubbed a thumb quickly up and down your clit, sending sparks flying through your body.

You couldn't help but let out a moan at that and he smiled lazily.

“Please, baby, come on my cock like a good girl” he said, almost managing to sound not completely ruined, and his hips started thrusting up into you with intent, nailing your g spot and sending you hurtling towards your own release.

Time to bring out the big guns, then. You looked up at the two older men, who looked dishevelled and quite close themselves, and mouthed at them “be ready”

They nodded quickly, not really knowing what they were supposed to be ready for.

You pinched Lando's nipple, hard, and before he could yelp, you wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed, cutting off his air flow. You quickly beckoned Max and Charles over to you.

“Fuck, such a good boy, making me feel so good, baby. Need you to fill me up, fuck all your come into mommy, while Max and Charles come all over your pretty face”

He let out a strangled moan as his hips bucked uncontrollably and he did just that, filling you up as you took over rubbing your clit and the sight of Lando's face getting streaked with cum was more than you could handle and you fell over the edge yourself, head thrown back and colours bursting under your eyelids.

Lando whimpered as you clenched around him, getting turned on again at the sight of the mess of the three men in front of you.

“Holy fuck, that was…” Charles started.

“unexpected!” Max finished for him.

You smiled at them and back down at Lando, who was staring blissfully at the ceiling, in a post orgasmic haze.

You pulled off of him slowly and leaned down to kiss him, your lips joining passionately for a moment.

When you sat back up the other two had zipped their pants back up and were staring at Lando open mouthed.

You followed them to the door, bidding them goodbye and giggling softly when they kissed you on the cheek.

You walked back over to Lando and noticed he hadn't moved an inch, but his face was red and his eyes were glassy.

You grabbed a wet cloth from the bathroom and wiped his face clean, making sure to not get any in his eyes, then wiped his cock gently, and lastly your thighs, where Lando's come was dripping out of you slowly.

You lay next to him, pulling the blanket over the two of you and stroked his arm tenderly when you noticed he was still staring intently at the ceiling with tears in his eyes. Oh… oh no.

“You okay, baby? Did I go too far?” you asked.

He blinked.

“I'm never gonna be able to look them in the eye ever again…”

You wrapped your arms around him and giggled. You'd forgotten how much Lando could overthink a scene after it was done.

“Don't be dramatic” you turned his head and kissed him. “They enjoyed it, you enjoyed it, I definitely enjoyed it. There's nothing to worry about.”

He hummed, wrapping his own arms around you and pulling you close.

“And besides…” you continued, stroking up and down his spine “If they give you any shit about it, i'll make sure you can watch next time I give them a reward.”

A few seconds later he groaned and buried his face into your neck. “Now I'm imagining covering Charles’ face in my cum and I'm getting hard again”

Well… “You did just win a race, baby. And I could certainly go another round…”

That was the fastest you've ever been flipped over in your life.

[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY PRIDE!!!

Could you, pretty please, write more of the Draco in the muggle world or Draco and the twins take down Voldemort AU?

Love your writings!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

George watches anxiously as Harry closes his eyes and Tori leans over him. He really, really hopes this works. They don't exactly have a backup plan if it doesn't.

Things are uncomfortably silent. He'd imagined this soul sucking business to be a lot more dramatic, but they can't see much under the large hood of Tori's pink robe and neither of them are making a sound.

Then she's drifting back and Harry's blinking rapidly.

"Did it work?" Ron asks anxiously, stepping forward to grab Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "Are you okay? How was it?"

"Wet," Harry says, eyes finally focusing. "I don't feel any different. Wait - my scar doesn't hurt anymore. Does that mean it worked?"

They turn to Tori, who gives a thumbs up. The dull gray of her skin has turned a shimmering silver now that she's consumed each piece of Voldemort's soul. All the dementors that had come to Hogwarts had sickly grey-black skin where it wasn't scabbed over. He wonders if that means they sent starving dementors to a school full of children and what idiot thought that was a good idea.

"Is it over then?" Fred asks uncertainly. "Voldemort's dead? For good?"

They all look towards Voldemort's soulless body that's still passed out on the couch.

Hermione raises her gun. Two shots and a smattering of brain matter later, she says, "Yeah."

"You seriously couldn't have waited to do that?" Draco complains. At least the polyjuice as worn off and he's wearing his own face again. "That settee is from the seventeen hundreds. It's going to take more than scourgify to get that out."

"Um," Harry says. "Okay. Well - should we. Tell someone?"

Draco waves a hand. "Yeah, sure, just leave me out of it."

"Leave you out of it?" Ron repeats incredulously. "You killed Voldemort and you don't even want the credit?"

"Technically, Tori did that - much obliged, Tori," he says, and she gives a bobbing head nod in acknowledgement. "And it was more of a team effort. Besides, no, I have a reputation to maintain if you've forgotten. I wanted Voldemort to stop hitting on my mother, now he won't, so this really doesn't have anything to do with me now." He frowns. "Besides getting the settee cleaned before dad notices. He'll go spare."

George thinks he might be more upset about the dead dark lord, but who knows with the Malfoys. Draco didn't turn out like this out of nowhere.

"You've been working to defeat Voldemort," Hermione says slowly, "because he was flirting with your mother?"

"Like that wouldn't be enough for you," he scoffs.

Ew.

Ron scrunches his face, then says, "Fair enough. But that still doesn't change how we're supposed to, um, handle this."

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm taking Tori back to the island. You guys figure that out."

"I'll come with you," George says eagerly, dodging Fred's hand when he tries to hold him back. He waits until it's just three of them to ask, "Do you really not have a plan for this part?"

Draco grins at him, wide enough that George can see the dimple on his left cheek. "Let's see what they come up with. I can't be the only one doing the heavy lifting around here."

"Okay," he says, wondering if now that Voldemort's dead, Draco will kiss him.

[apomaro-mellow]

Wrong Number 2

Someone said they liked when authors put their super-specific jobs in fics so I hope ya like Steve havin a (kinda romanticized) past job of mine.

For the first time in his life, Steve felt like the stereotypical young person who was always glued to his phone. Every time it made a noise or vibrated, his arm shot out like lightning, hoping with every fiber of his being that it was the mystery number.

It had been about five days since he'd sent that first message and he'd been worried about their conversations being stale. But that wasn't an issue. The only times their talks lulled was when they went to bed.

And even that was after texting late into the night. Steve would watch the clock go from 9 to 10 and promise to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. And then it would be midnight and what was a few minutes after that? Then he'd look up and it would be 2 in the morning.

Texting this guy had become the highlight of Steve's days. To the point where he didn't even realize Friday had come until one of his students mentioned it.

Then, purely out of habit, he asked: "Any weekend plans?"

"I've got a soccer game", Zach answered.

"My parents are having date night", Belinda said.

And normally Steve himself would be thinking about going out and finding someone for the night. But the idea hadn't come to him for once. He knew why, but he didn't fully process it until he got home to Robin, who was in the middle of cooking breakfast for dinner it seemed.

Steve was in the middle of replying to a text sent during lunch.

(12:15) I just realized you know about my off the wall job (12:17) But I have no idea what your 9 to 5 is (12:18) Your legally required to tell me if ur famous (12:18) Not bc im a clout chaser (12:19) But bc I might not have a clue who you are

[4:13] Not famous. Don't worry. I'm a teacher.

(4:15) As a former student I apologize

Robin opened the cabinet, looking for pancake mix. “Are you and that girl still texting?”

“Me and the who?”, Steve looked up from his phone.

“That girl? I assume you're finally setting up a date for this weekend?"

"She-" Steve racked his brain for a good excuse. But it was hard to do when the person who knew him the most was staring right at him.

"Whatever flaws of hers you're about to make up, I'm gonna call bullshit because your phone hasn't stopped pinging for days." She started mixing the pancake batter.

Steve looked down at the words on his screen. The one flaw of this guy was that they couldn't meet in person. But maybe it was time to close the distance just a bit.

"She's shy. Might just text a bit more before she's ready."

[4:19] No need for sorries. All my kids are great. But that's probably because I teach their favorite class.

(4:21) Oooh their favorite? (4:21) It's gotta be something like art rite? (4:22) Or are you being a smart ass cuz you teach like calculus or something?

[4:23] I teach cooking 😛

(4:23) Oh shit. (4:24) You're actually the favorite

[4:25] Toldja. Hey quick question and then possibly many more questions.

(4:26) Go ooooon

[4:27] How would you feel about spending the night playing 20 questions? Like are you free tonight?

Eddie bit his lip as he looked at Steve's words. He had picked his shifts this weekend to make sure he had plenty of time to talk to Steve. Which meant he was in fact free tonight. He replied as such and Steve said he wanted a little time to take a shower and then he'd be ready.

And because he was a little shit, Eddie took advantage of him being away from his phone.

(4:35) Since you're in the shower, I'm taking the first question. Boxers or briefs?

[4:54] Cheater. And I prefer boxer briefs. My turn?

(4:55) Go for it

Eddie was curled up on his couch, tv low and in the background as he waited for Steve's question.

[4:55] What's your name?

(4:56) THATS your first question? (4:56) Wait we've been texting for days haven't you saved my number? (4:57) What do you have me as?

Steve bit his lip, wishing he could lie to this guy, but he couldn’t. Instead he sent a screenshot of his phone.

(4:59) Misty? That’s the name of the chick?

[5:00] Yeah. But I guess I should put your actual name now, right?

It was a gamble. But this guy already knew Steve’s name. And by this point they’d been texting for nearly a week. He just wanted to know his name. He pushed back the part of himself that said he needed to know.

(5:00) It's Eddie.

Eddie. The guy he'd been talking to was named Eddie. Eddie with the long curly hair and the chunky rings who threw axes for a living. He was a far cry from the soft girls he usually dated. Or the preppy guys he usually dated.

(5:02) Favorite bug?

The question threw Steve for a moment but he decided to humor him.

[5:04] Bees 🐝I like how fuzzy they are. And I like honey. [5:05] What rings do you have?

A couple minutes later, Eddie replied with an image. It was taken from above and showed his hands lying flat on a coffee table. Steve zoomed to make out the details of each ring. He was also able to see a watch and a couple of wristbands on him.

[5:08] How did you take that picture? With your mouth? 🦭

(5:09) Did you did you just compare me to a seal???

[5:09] What other animal catches things in their mouths?

'I can be an animal with my mouth'. Thankfully, Eddie's fingers weren't as fast as his brain and he didn't send that to Steve. Eddie had in fact put his phone in his mouth the take the picture, having a real 'no thoughts, head empty moment' when Steve asked about his rings.

Steve was letting his own mind wander as he gazed at the picture. Eddie's hands were...his hands were...well they were-

(5:10) Favorite youtuber?

The adoration of Eddie's hands were interrupted by Eddie himself as their question and answers continued. The picture continued as well. Steve sent pics of his favorite pair of shoes, his hair products, and of his neck when Eddie said he didn't believe he had all these moles.

Eddie had sent pictures of one arm, covered in tats, his acoustic guitar, and a super worn copy of Peter Pan.

The hour was growing late and both of them were feeling more bold but at the same time hesitant because it felt like they were close to crossing a line.

Needing an outside opinion, Eddie consulted with The Council (the discord server with his band mates) about whether or not he should shoot his shot. Gareth told him to go for it, what harm could it do? Grant said to do it because it could potentially be the funniest catfishing story. Jeff agreed that he should, if only because their guitarist getting murdered would be a great back story.

With their unanimous approval, Eddie decided to start actively flirting with Steve.

(8:37) Soooooo ya like jazz?

[8:38] I do actually. I really love the piano.

Okay, that one was just practice. Be smooth. Be suave. None of that was in Eddie's wheelhouse but thankfully nothing he said turned Steve away. He always seemed just as eager to reply back.

(9:10) What's your oldest piece of clothing?

Eddie was thinking of his own oldest article a t-shirt that had started out overgrown on his tiny eight year old body but he'd grown into and kept over the years. It was super faded but filled with the memory of the first time he spent more than a couple of days with his uncle.

[9:12] I'd show you, but I'm wearing them right now.

Steve had closed his bedroom door before sending the text. There wasn't anything scandalous but it seemed like it could very quickly veer into that territory. All Eddie had to do was ask. If he wanted to see them, Steve would show it.

'I would like to see it.'

(9:12) I would like to see it

Eddie knew it could be anything. Maybe a holey sock. Or maybe he also had a super faded t-shirt with deep sewn-in memories as well. Maybe he was wearing a class ring?

[9:14] image.jpeg

Eddie was treated (and goddamn what a treat it was) to Steve Harrington's bottom half, barely covered in shorts with a school's logo on them. Thick thighs covered in hair. And a bulge that was there. It was very there. Eddie couldn't overstate how there it was.

He palmed his own crotch before remembering he was looking at a guy's junk and about to jerk off to it in his living room. And he had yet to answer. What was the most respectful way to say 'humina humina humina-wolf whistle-awooga'?

(9:16) Are you trying to kill me Steve?

[9:17] Do you like it?

'Awooga.'

(9:18) ❤️‍🔥 🔥 🥵

Eddie tried to think of any other way to tell Steve how hot he made him but it felt like typing words just wasn't enough.

(9:19) Can I do something insane? (9:20) And feel free to ignore me if it's too much

Steve was lying in his bed, phone of his charger now. Nothing Eddie could do would be too much. He could knock on his door and he would let him in.

[9:21] Go ahead

A second after he sent that, Steve's phone started to ring. It was Eddie. He stared for about five seconds before picking up.

"Hey."

"Hey."

If possible, Steve melted more into his bed. Eddie's voice...he didn't know what he expected but it wasn't that. He said one word and Steve wanted to wrap himself in it.

"That was pretty naughty of you, sending me that pic. I could show up to your school."

"You'd be a few years too late. These are my oldest shorts, remember?"

"Tiniest shorts maybe."

Steve laughed and Eddie was on cloud nine. He was so lost in bliss, he miscalculated and fell off the couch.

"What was that?"

"I uh, I fell. Off my couch."

"Did you fall hard?"

Eddie beamed as he got up and turned off the tv. Now that he had his voice, all he wanted to hear was the man on the other line.

"Oh super hard."

Steve let out a sound from the back of his throat and he wondered if Eddie had heard it. It was honestly amazing how the smallest things got him going. Or maybe he was just that into Eddie.

"You still there Steve?"

....."Yeah. I'm still here."

Part 4

Tag Team (closed)

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If you were tagged but it didn't show up in your notifications, lemme know and I'll do that thing where I tag you in a reblog instead. I know tumblr can't be trusted to function XD

[scoops-aboy86]

Realize You’re Living (Secret Admirer pt 5)

Steddie Week 2024, July 5: Reunion / exes to lovers or getting back together / Wasted Years by Iron Maiden

Sorry. Not for the delay in posting, I just think I'm gonna get yelled at for reasons.

wc: 2815 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

There isn’t time to send Steve another letter before Friday. 

There isn’t time, not through the mail, and there’s no way Eddie is risking physically putting something in the Harrington’s mailbox himself. That would mean running the risk of someone finding out, and that still ignites an old fear in the most primal part of his brain that screams at him to run. No matter who it is. 

On the other hand, standing Steve up for their phone date is not an option. The very idea makes his insides freeze over. They’ve both had to reassure each other that they want to continue this epistolary romance, Jesus H. Christ—there’s been too much hot and cold already to pull something like that. 

Eddie rolls over on his bed to lay face down and screams into his pillow. It's like they’re in a relationship, except Steve doesn’t even know who he is. It's absurd. An absolute clown town of his own making.

Okay. Okay, no, he can do this. (Can he?) All he has to do is relax and stay calm until tomorrow night. He’ll call at 10:30 on the dot and play Steve some Iron Maiden or something, maybe a little Dio, a smidge of Black Sabbath, throw in a dash of Judas Priest… Basically play the guy a mix tape, live. 

He whips his head up and all but dives for his side table, looking for the tin where he keeps his weed. It’ll help him chill out enough to come up with a song list. And he needs all the chill he can get. He’s lost his mom to cancer, his dad to addiction and prison, and his childhood home with them—he refuses to lose Steve if he has even half a chance of actually having Steve. Because if this whole secret admirer thing is going where he hardly dares to hope it is, this could be the most important mix tape of his entire goddamn life. 

Steve spends all of Friday so on edge that Robin starts threatening to drop banana peels in the circuit he keeps pacing behind the counter. 

“What is with you today, dingus?”

He stops, tapping his foot restlessly and removing his hat so he can rake a hand through his hair. “Nothing, nothing, I… have an important call tonight, is all. I think.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is it a pretty girl?” she teases.

“Maybe,” he mutters with a halfhearted shrug. He really still doesn’t know, and it doesn’t seem likely he’ll find out tonight. “I’m not even sure they’ll call. It’s… kind of a blind date sort of thing.”

“A blind phone date?” Robin looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that, which. Fair. “Is that a thing?”

Steve shrugs again. He goes back to pacing. “It might be. I’ll find out tonight I guess.”

She gives him a minute before butting in again, spraying more Windex on the display case to get the lunch rush’s grubby child fingerprints off the cool glass. “...Is this because of the board?”

Again, Steve stops. “What?”

“The You Rule / You Suck board. Have I accidentally degraded your confidence in yourself so much that you’ve turned to blind dates as an alternative to trying to seduce any and every girl who walks in here?” 

Her tone is flippant, but because they’ve been on better terms recently—especially since Steve started offering her rides (and let her take control of the tape deck after that time she threatened to throw all of his Wham! tapes out the window)—he decides to take it as a genuine question. 

“No. Well—No, it’s more the hat than that. It messes up my best feature, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair again, fluffing it up more, then slumps against the back counter next to the milkshake blenders with a sigh. “It’s kind of a pen pal thing. We’ve been talking for a while but we haven’t met, but… I think it might be going somewhere good.”

Robin stops her bored polishing of the display case, only half of the afternoon rush’s smudges and fingerprints wiped away, to laugh with a slight shake of her head. “Oh wow, King Steve is a romantic. Who knew?”

“Not me before junior year, that’s for sure,” he scoffs honestly. 

She studies him thoughtfully for a moment. “Makes sense. Kind of lines up with something I heard the other day, when—”

But then they’re interrupted by a couple strolling in for some ice cream. Robin rushes through cleaning the rest of the glass so as to get out of their way, and Steve scoops and rings them up while she moves on to wiping down tables, conversation forgotten. 

Eddie’s finished his playlist and his plan is to call early. Not too early, just… a minute, five minutes tops. His uncle leaves for work before 10, so he has plenty of time and he’s buzzing with nervous energy. 

Way too much nervous energy to carry into the Big Call tonight. 

By the time Wayne is out the door, Eddie’s already started on rolling a joint and rereading Steve’s letters from start to current. If he’d been smart he would’ve written out copies of his own for a more complete read, that in depth analysis his English teachers never shut up about… but alas. 

Usually his memory is pretty good, especially when it comes to his own work. He also hadn’t expected this to go on as long as it had; not really. But now he can hardly imagine what it would be like to know Steve only from a distance anymore and that… colors things. Fuck only knows what he’s remembering wrong because of a simple difference in perspective. 

Because Steve has let him in, Eddie acknowledges as he lines the weed up on the paper. He’s written things about his home life, about his old friends, and definitely about his injuries over the past couple years (though oddly enough never much about what actually caused them) that Eddie would bet good money that no one else knows, if only because Steve doesn’t seem to have anyone else to tell. Maybe those kids he babysits (begrudgingly but genuinely dotes on, Eddie’s seen it from a distance). But really, how much can you realistically talk to a thirteen year old? Eddie remembers being thirteen; he hadn’t listened to anyone for shit. It was a miracle Wayne hadn’t just released him into the woods like a wild animal. 

And all Eddie’s been doing is pulling Steve close, while steadfastly keeping him out. God. 

He licks the joint to seal it, lights up, and keeps rereading. 

Steve is standing by the phone in his kitchen watching the second hand on the clock. How it sneaks around the clock face, slow but steady, until it laps the 12 line and it’s 10:31. 

He slumps back against the kitchen island with a groan. That had been an absolutely excruciating minute, and he’s staring down the barrel of another fifty-nine more until he can reasonably give up hope. Because anything under an hour is just running late, right? Something could have come up, something unavoidable like… family coming home unexpectedly, making a private conversation impossible. 

… Okay, maybe that was a stress dream he’d had last night about his parents, but something like it could happen to anyone.

10:32. The second hand barely makes it past fifteen this time before the silence is split by the shriek of ringing in the otherwise silent house. Steve multitasks, jumping out of his skin and lunging to answer the phone at the same time.

“HelloHarringtonresidence, thisisStevehowcanIhelpyou?” he rushes out. 

There’s no response except breathing on the other end of the line, which would be creepy if it weren’t exactly what he was hoping for. 

(Eddie is pressing a hand over his mouth, keeping in an equal parts amused and disbelieving laugh at how Steve had answered the phone, all flustered and cute and overly formal in an automatic sort of way that suggests an ingrained habit. From what he knows about Steve’s parents, he’s not terribly surprised, but it’s still such a delightfully dorky greeting.

And it seems like Steve really was waiting by the phone for his call, which makes Eddie want to fucking dance.)

“Is that you?” After a second, a light bulb goes off in Steve’s head and he adds, “Oh. Uh, tap once for yes, twice for no?”

It takes a few seconds, but then he hears a single tap against the plastic of the other receiver. 

(Smart, Eddie would tell him if he could. If he dared. He sucks hard on the last of his joint before letting the smoke billow from his nose like a dragon and putting it out in the ashtray by his bed. Maybe he mashes it in a little harder than necessary, blaming it for being late even though that’s really just another one of his bad habits at this point.)

Relief breaks over Steve like a wave. “Oh my god, it’s you. You’re the, um, my secret admirer?”

Tap. 

(Yeah sweetheart, it’s me.)

Steve does a little bounce on the balls of his feet and pumps his fist, too giddy to feel stupid about it with no one watching. “Holy shit. I mean, t-thanks for calling. Sorry, my parents make me answer the phone like that.” 

Nothing. 

(Eddie is smiling. Beaming, really. I figured, he imagines saying. At first it makes his heart feel full just thinking about it, but then has to stop that line of thought before his anxiety conjures up all the ways Steve Harrington, until recently Hawkins High’s resident ladies man, might react to the surprise of being on a phone date with a guy. Jesus, how is he high and still so nervous?)

“Right, you can’t answer. I mean, you can, if you want, but you don’t have to. This is, this is to see how I like your music.” Steve rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Did you want to play something for me now, or…”

Tap. 

(All the tapes are on standby, spread out in chaotic order around the second-hand player he got last year after Wayne’s old one crapped out on him. Eddie cranks up the volume as high as it’ll go; he’s used to it, the neighbors are resigned to it, and Steve won’t be able to hear it well enough to count through the phone otherwise.)

The first song starts, and Steve twists the phone cord between his fingers as he stands in his kitchen and listens. There’s a heavy beat and a noticeable bass line, even over the phone, nothing like the pop rock he usually listens to. But…

“… I definitely didn’t hate it,” he says once the last notes fade out. 

(Eddie is vibrating as he hits pause and ejects the tape, elated, a few of his worries already soothed. Steve doesn’t hate metal. That doesn’t necessarily mean Steve will like him, but it’s got to make the odds at least a little better, right? He wants to say fuck yeah or I love you or, fucking… shriek wordlessly or something, but presses his hand over his cotton-dry mouth instead, hard enough that his gums ache a little.)

“It kind of reminded me of AC/DC? Like Back in Black, or Hells Bells.”

(They’re not one of Eddie’s favorites, didn’t even make the playlist. But they’re harder rock than he expected Steve to be familiar with, and suddenly he has a wild urge to know what the guy thinks of You Shook Me All Night Long.)

“One time, the radio played Big Balls in the car and my mom literally clutched her pearls and said, ‘I don’t think he’s talking about ballroom dancing, Richard!’” 

(Eddie grins as the funny little falsetto Steve put on for the impression fades into a rich laugh, like he’s so tickled by the memory that he can’t help it. There was probably some appalled, classic white-anglo-saxon-protestant-sucking-on-a-lemon expression on her face that he’s picturing, while Eddie can only imagine. It’s okay, Eddie is too busy wanting to pour Steve’s laugh into a bathtub and soak in it.)

Tap. 

“Yeah, really not,” Steve agrees, his cheeks almost aching from smiling so wide. He feels lighter than air just knowing he’s on the phone with the person who’s been writing to him the past couple months, knowing he’s proving that they’re genuinely at least a little bit compatible. “So, what’s the next song?”

It goes on like that. Steve doesn’t know the artists or albums or track titles, but figures that Secret Admirer will fill him in with the next letter. There are a couple of songs that are more shouting than singing for his taste—“I like songs I can sing along to once I know the words, you know? Really belt out in the car after a long day, or something,” he explains, and gets a yes tap in response. 

(Eddie has to improvise. Instead of another WASP song, he reaches for an Iron Maiden tape he’d put aside as a half-assed backup and scours the track list, trying to decide… Ah, that one. He pops it in and turns the volume down for a second so he can check that he’s fast forwarding to the right spot on the tape.

This one’s for you, sweetheart, he thinks, lighting a second joint—not for nerves this time, but just for fun. He leans back and lets the smoke fill his lungs, fill his mind, send him floating off to whatever time of that big house Steve is curled up in so he can spiritually throw an arm around the other guy’s shoulders.)

Steve likes the instrumentals in the intro of this one. He doesn’t really track the words at first once they start—usually doesn’t, on a first listen-through, with so much new to take in. But he starts catching on to the shape of them by the first of what turns out to be the chorus. 

So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years

Too much time on my hands, I got you on my mind Can't ease this pain so easily When you can't find the words to say, hard to make it through another day And it makes me wanna cry, throw my hands up to the sky

So understand Don't waste your time always searching for those wasted years Face up, make your stand Realize you're living in the golden years, hey!

He listens, slowly untangling himself from the long phone cord and taking a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. When the song finally fades out and he hears the far-off click of the tape being stopped and taken out, he asks hopefully, “It’s about seizing the day, right?”

Maybe they’re building up to telling him who they are, or at least giving him a little more. 

(Eddie freezes, not expecting Steve—who had told him he didn’t get things on the first try—to venture any insights. Especially on a song that hadn’t been on his list, a last minute change-up that he’d picked with the transformation from King Steve to just normal guy Steve in mind and how Steve seems so hung up on apologizing for the douchebag he used to be. 

Or at least, used to be on the outside. Every day, Eddie gets a little less sure that persona went much further than skin-deep.

A tiny sound curls out of Eddie’s throat, a barely audible, inquisitive hum. Something that says please, keep going. He knows Steve has heard it because of the quick intake of breath over the line.)

Steve clutches the handset so hard that his knuckles go white. It’s the first sound, the first crumb that Secret Admirer has given him that’s really them, not a tap on plastic or other people’s music. Too quiet to make out any distinguishing features, but it’s something. 

It feels like everything. 

“You could, you know,” Steve says softly. “You could… make a stand? If you told me who you are, or just anything more about you, I… I really like you. I know for sure that I want to know you. Maybe that makes me a romantic sap, but it’s true. What if we find out we could have our golden years right now?”

(Eddie is freaking out. The mellow of his high isn’t helping anymore, all the floaty syrupy hopefulness of it stripped away. Oh fuck oh balls oh shit, shit, shit!

He’s hyperventilating, knows Steve can probably hear it, and he’s nothing but a goddamn coward in the end.

He can't do this.)

There’s a single clunk, and then all Steve hears is dial tone.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

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@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs

[dreamland03]

WARNING: 18+, Smut, mention of sex, dirty talk, sex toy, explicit language, squirting

(If I left out any warnings please let me know and I will add it)

Thinking about.....

Shoto using a vibrator on you.

 You’re laid out on the bed naked with hands and legs tied to the bed frame. He loved the site of you. You were all his and he could do anything he wanted to you. He had brought this idea up to you earlier and the moment you agreed with it he couldn’t wait to see you in this moment. It was perfect for you too. After a long day of work, you wanted to not think. You wanted Shoto to just take control. 

He turned on the vibrator on the lowest setting and started at your ankles. He traveled up your leg. The closer he got to your pussy, the higher the setting got. Once he got to your inner thigh you started to squirm and whine. Shoto can see how bad you needed this. but he wanted you to wait a little longer. He takes the vibrator away from you inner thigh and goes up to you neck. You whine in distress but shut up once Shoto lips are on yours. With the heavy makeout and the vibrator going towards your breast, your brain feels fuzzy. but what made your brain melt was shoto bringing the vibrator over your nipples and sucking on your tongue at the same time. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, hips coming off the mattress, your pussy in need of friction. 

With the way your moaning, shoto thinks he’s falling love with you all over again. He loves the way you arms are struggling to break free from the rope and how whiny you’ve become. How desperate you’ve become. Shoto pulls back from the kiss and whispers right in your face.

“Does your pretty pussy need my attention?” you nod your head so hard you might get whiplash. 

Shoto brings the vibrator to the center of you stomach and goes down slowly. Your pussy aches from how slow he’s going. He torturing you ,but you love that shit. 

“Please. Please. Please.” 

He giving you a devilish smile seeing the way you beg for him. How much you need him. 

Finally the vibrator is on you clit on the highest setting and you’re seeing stars. Shoto lays next to you, whispering ungodly things in your ear. With the mix of the dirty talk and the vibrator abusing your clit, your about to cum. 

“Sho Im gonna fucking cum, oh my fuck” your stomach seconds away from snapping.

“Go on, be a good slut and cum” 

Your vision goes white and you’re on cloud 9. Little did you know, you squirted all over the bed. Shoto watches you with a smile and whispers in your ear ”good girl.” 

Once you come down from one of the most destroying orgasms of your life. Shoto takes off the ropes, massages your wrists, and kisses you softly. Telling you how good you did for him. This night was needed. :)

_______________________________________________________________________

Again not the best, but yeah. :) I wrote this in like 10 minutes. I needed to get this out of my brain. Like always, any warning or tags I need to add please let me know, thank youuu. 🫧💤💗

[stararch4ngelqueen]

cute bath with jason, candles and bubbles and light music playing and he’s sitting behind you and giving you kisses as you just talk about eachothers days

—

Time Written - 10:50 p.m

—

“I saw somewhere that they sell these trays that hang on the tub, like hooking on the edges. You can use it to read your book inside. With a glass of wine or tea, or scotch too.”

Rough fingers along your back rolled any remaining knots in your muscles, calloused hands gently stroking along the junction of our shoulder and neck.

“Scotch?” Jason huffs in amusement. “C’mon, y’know I’m not a scotch guy.”

“Whiskey, bourbon. Whatever,” you giggle, leaning your head forward as you swipe along any stray wet hair, only to feel his fingers completely halt.

“You forgot my tastes??” Jason expressed with complete shock at this horrifying discovery. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

Any further giggling was unavoidable as you see his face; twisted into mock pain, his lips formed into a tragic quiver as he gives his version of puppy dog eyes.

“An’ here I was, so very very proud of myself to drive all across town to that lush store you like so much, All for the bath salts!” Vocally expressing his pain, he clutched his chest in one hand, dramatically swooping his damp curls back to dress his palm over his forehead.

“Oh my god, Jason!”

“And they weren’t even on sale!” Jason continues on, leaning his head back further with feigned agony. “I spent good money on my woman, an’ she forgets that I’m a bourbon man!”

“Jason stop it!” You turn yourself just a little more, both hands coming out of the milky waters to settle along his upper arms.

“I got you that bottle of Four Roses earlier, I know what my man loves.”

Jason smirks whilst withdrawing his hands from their prior positions. He can’t help but laugh a little himself, lowering one of his hands under water to rest along your hip.

“What I love is that pretty look on your face, Doll.” He pinches your chin with feather-like softness before kissing you.

Coming home to this everyday; you, was a gift.

Getting to spend every minute in your intoxicating presence. What drug or alcohol could be possibly infect himself with when his brain provided such ecstasy with one look at you?

The lights were dimmed, the water still clung to its toasty warmth. The milky waters seeping with sweet soap, pearlescent powders, crushed oats and herbal oils.

An exquisite tastes of both lavender and honey soothing elegance, bodies dripping in glittering gold.

In some cases, you didn’t wanna do anything sexual when Jason came home. This bath, for example, both of you were naked yes, but it was possible to not think such thoughts in a precarious state.

Your one and only was home safe and sound, You loved nothing more.

Jason was more than okay with that.

If you weren’t up to it, neither was he. Vice versa.

A perfect, consensual balance.

This was much better than a book, even better than a drink. The sleep he always got after these baths were heavenly, nearly slumbering like a baby each time.

“After the day I’ve had, I prefer this right here instead of a drink.” Jason re-swipes his soaking wet hair back along his head, growing slightly irritated from his dipping curls dripping onto his face.

“What a way with words, handsome.” You smile as you turn your body slightly, letting your upper half settle more comfortably against his. His hand settles along your back, running soothing circles against your glistening skin.

“Jason.”

“Hm?”

“If I did buy you that bath tray, would this mean you’d read to me in here?”

“Probably,” he replies, pondering over which book exactly. Also if he believes he could be comfortable enough with literature in the tub.

“Might as well do some skincare too,” you ponder over the idea, to Jason’s confusion.

“Like, some eye masks or something. Make it a spa day.”

Jason remained… intrigued, adamant. Only eye masks he’s seen you use were those glittery jelly ones you put under your eyes. He’s tried them once, per your request. They weren’t bad, but he didn’t understand the uses to this day.

“You’re just giving Dick more things to talk about.” Jason chuckles, his eyes closing as your hand readjusts his sopping wet, snowy curl out of his face.

“As if he needs to know what we do. This is our time, remember?”

“Mhm.” He leans close, pressing a kiss along your cheek before leaning just a little lower, leaving a softer peck underneath your ear.

“Our time.” He murmurs, feeling your head lean against his touches.

“The day I can dress you in a bright pink robe—“

“Babe no.” Oh boy. “C’mon—“

“-With feather lining and fuzzy slippers. You’d look adorable!” Your purposefully cheery accent had him groaning your name in false irritancy against your neck, rolling his eyes.

“There’s no deal you can make with me for that to happen, Princess.”

“I can be very persuasive, Mister Todd,” your tone drops from its cheerful tease into a more slow, much familiar tune he was well accustomed to.

His chest rumbles with amusement, teal eyes narrowing with interest in your statement. You’re really eager for him to do such? Now you piqued his interest.

“I’d like to see you try, pretty girl.”

[alwaysurvalentine]

bad days are meant to be shared - st fic

Written for Day 10 of @steddieangstyaugust - prompt: "Where were you?" - word count: 3.7k - cw: some cussing, mentions of nausea but no vomiting (Steve Harrington centric, but Eddie saves the day)

enjoy! 💛

Working at Family Video is fine. It really is. It can be mindless but Steve doesn’t mind it, or at least he doesn’t mind when he wakes up feeling refreshed. Instead he got to wake up feeling groggy, a heaviness settling in his head that he knows can turn into a migraine if he isn’t careful. His heartbeat is already pulsing through his body but he figures the medicine he took this morning with his coffee should hold off the worst of it until Robin comes in. She’ll be able to talk to the customers and he can just focus on restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes. He’s just got to make it until 2. Only one hour to go until she walks in and so far it’s been pretty quiet for a Friday. Only one more hour and then he won’t have to answer the phone when it rings or-

Speaking of the phone, it starts to ring and he sighs. He wishes he didn’t have to answer, but would rather answer than listen to it continue to ring – acting like an ice pick to his brain.

“Thank you for calling Family Video, how can I help you?” 

“Steve! Hey!” Robin’s out of breath on the other end of the line and Steve can picture her wrestling jeans on while talking on the phone. “Can you do me a huuuuge favor? Can you please please cover for me today? Chrissy invited me out to the lake for a picnic!”

He knows he’s going to regret it, especially with how his head already feels, but he also knows she’s covered for him before. Plus, he’s been dying to tell her ‘I told you so’ about the whole Chrissy Situation (TM), since Robin refuses to believe the other girl likes her. Steve’s seen cheerleaders flirt, he knows what it means that Chrissy always finds a way to touch Robin in some way. Examples include bumping shoulders while they walk all the way to brushing Robin’s hair behind her ears – Steve swears she’s hopeless. The girl can figure out Russian in no time, but a girl flirting with her? Might as well be the nuclear codes. Though he thinks Robin could figure that out faster.

“Yeah, Robs. ‘Course I can.” His voice comes out more gruff than he intended, but the light from the front window is just hitting his eyes worse than it was before. The echo of his pounding heartbeat intensifies. There’s a small pause on the other end of the phone, damn Robin and her ability to read him. “Someone’s about to walk in – talk later?” 

“Sure, but Ste-” He hangs up. No one’s walking up to the store but Steve stands behind the register for a moment regardless. He crosses his arms on the counter in front of him and leans against them for a couple breaths. Now he’s got four hours to go before he can leave and no one to cover for him if this headache does become a migraine. Hopefully Hawkins will decide to go to the actual movie theater in town rather than coming in for a rental. Four hours until he gets to go home. Where he planned on cooking dinner for Eddie tonight, shit. His head throbs at the idea. No, it’ll be fine. He’ll make it through his shift, make dinner for Eddie, call Robin to ask about her date, clean up dinner, and then go to bed. Imagining his and Eddie’s bed, soft sheets and fluffy pillows gives him some hope; imagining Eddie’s arms around him when he falls asleep brings a small smile to his face. 

The bell attached to the front door rings and he sighs before standing straight, his customer service smile already painted on his face when he realizes it’s Dustin that’s walked through the door. As always, his curls are wild under his cap, and he’s wearing his green ‘Camp Know Where’ shirt. 

“Steve! Get this! So was messing around with my mom’s radio to see what parts I could use to make my own phonograph -” And the pulsing is back. Steve knows as long as he keeps on nodding every so often and places a couple ‘oh really?’s in there Dustin will carry this whole conversation on his own. Dustin’s mom is a saint, but Steve knows that sometimes her suggestions for ‘Dusty’ to get some air is to give her some time alone in the house. Which usually leads him to wherever Steve is or the rest of the Party – Steve seems to be the lucky winner today.

A family makes their way into the store, Mrs. Dawson and her two boys. Steve doesn’t remember their names but he eyes them as they race off to the cartoon section of the shelves. Mrs. Dawson sets down a couple movies in front of him on the counter, a grimace on her face. Her lipstick is a bright pink that almost hurts to look at. 

“Let me just pull up your account to get this squared away. Did you need help finding anything today?” His voice sounds plastic even to him, and distantly he can hear Dustin still talking about the pieces of the camcorder. What the hell is a beam splitter? Anyway – Amelia Dawson’s record shows the two movies on the counter, she’s turning them in on the last day before late fees but that’s fine. He checks that she’s returned them and goes to grab the cases (Robin Hood and Pete’s Dragon smile up at him from their plastic covers); now that he has his hands on them – are very sticky. Like dipped in caramel sticky. Luckily Mrs. Dawson’s attention is back on her boys who have decided to try and play tag in the aisles, uncaring of their elbows catching on movies at the end of shelves and leaving them to clatter on the floor. Steve fights a gag at the feeling and scoots the movies to the side of the counter, he can rewind them later. 

“So as I was saying, now I just have to get a couple of parts from Radio Shack and I should be able to record my own waves and see what they look like. If I can do that, then-” Steve tunes him out again, nodding along like he has any idea about what Dustin is talking about. Why does he need to see how words sound?

“Boys, come on now, we don’t want to keep daddy waiting – let’s go. Time for a late lunch.” Luckily, the twins – who he finally remembers are Michael and Matthew – take off towards the door at their mom’s words. Pushing at each other to see who’s going to get there first. The cardboard cut out for the month, Sigourney Weaver’s character from Aliens, falls to the floor in their wake but at least the store is noticeably quieter without them. Dustin asks to use the bathroom and Steve just nods as he rounds the counter. The movies that fell earlier get placed on the shelf and he makes a mental note to move them to the right places before he leaves today. He’s standing the cutout back up when he gets hit with a wave of nausea. He closes his eyes and slowly inhales, knows if he pukes now the rest of his shift will be absolute hell. With his eyes closed it’s a lot easier to hone in on the sounds of the fluorescent lights. Normally it’s a gentle buzz in the background, but today the lights seem to be doing their best impression of a drum line that just won’t quit. The nausea lessens and Steve glances at his watch. Just three hours left to go.

~

“Steve, what do you think?” Hazel eyes blink and Dustin comes into focus again, his eyes expectant. Steve knows he’s waiting for an answer to something but he genuinely has no idea what was just asked of him. Dustin’s eyebrows furrow slightly as the silence continues. Steve’s head is still throbbing and he can feel his heartbeat all the way down to his fingers. 

“What did you say?” 

Dustin huffs, rolling his eyes before repeating(?) his question. “I said, do you think that we can record the sound of silence as a sound wave? Because when it’s quiet your ears can make that ringing noise, do you think it’s quantifiable? And if it is, do you think there’s some kind of link to that sound to the part of the ear that is affected by deafness?”

Steve knows all of those words individually, but thinking of them in a sequence that makes sense to him right now is not happening. He even knows what Dustin means by the ringing noise, but he didn’t realize other people heard that too – thought that was just a him thing. Dustin must be able to tell he doesn’t have an answer because he crosses his arms. 

“Do you even listen to me when I’m talking?” Steve shouldn’t, especially with how riled up Dustin already appears to be, but he tunes him out again. Choosing instead to focus on the man walking through the door behind his friend. 

“Welcome to Family Video!” 

Distantly Steve wonders if Robin and Chrissy are having a good time at the lake, it’s been a sunny day. Probably hot enough to swim honestly. He feels bad for thinking it, but he hopes that Eddie’s bandmates are gone by the time he gets home. Normally he’d be fine with them at the apartment since they help bring out the best in Eddie, but he knows that they can also get pretty loud, especially if they’re messing with their instruments. He still needs to reorganize the shelves and rewind a couple films before the end of his shift. The thought of dinner makes his stomach turn and he wishes he could just go to bed once he gets home. But tonight’s his turn to cook, him and Eddie switching off days to make sure no one’s cooking all of the time. 

“Excuse me?” A hand snaps in front of his face, bringing his attention to Mr. Jameson’s annoyed face. “Can you check me out or not? I don’t see anyone else here.” His words bite and Steve silently nods. Glancing at the title before looking up his name in the system. The screen is blurry and all the words look like one long dark line across the screen. 

“Sorry, sir. Your total is-” before Steve could finish a five dollar bill was placed on the counter. “Okay, your change is $3.50. Here you-”

“No, you owe me four dollars back. Not $3.50. This is why I normally have that girl check me out. You’d think you’d know how much to charge by now.” 

“No sir, it’s 50 cents per day, and typical rental time is three days. So that’s $1.50 which makes your change $3.50.” The change sits in Steve’s hand, two quarters pinched between his index finger and thumb. Mr. Jameson stares him down, eyes filled with anger, and Steve’s over it. Whatever, he’s got 5o cents in his car that he can put in the drawer to make it balanced later. He pops open the drawer and pulls out another dollar, dropping the quarters back into their slot. Four dollar bills are snatched from his hand and Mr. Jameson grunts before stomping out the door. 

“Steve? What the hell? You’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” Dustin’s voice is shrill when he talks, getting higher near the end, and Steve just breaks.

“Please shut up.” Dustin’s mouth closes with a snap, a look of hurt on his face. Steve wants to say more, explain that having his eyes opens hurts and that he can’t be bothered with customers who don’t know how to be decent; can’t be bothered with remembering what parts of the radio and camcorder and VCR player Dustin took apart for his personal project. He wants to explain that he really needs to put a cold compress on his head and lay down in the pitch black silence of his room for a few hours to be human again. 

None of this makes its way out of his tense jaw though and Dustin must decide he’s done with Steve for the day because he says nothing before turning and making his way towards the door. Fuck.

~

The last two hours of Steve’s shift passes in a blur. Someone tries to call the phone and instead of answering he covers his ears until the ringing stops and then unhooks it from the receiver. A couple of girls try fluttering their eyes at him to see what his weekend plans are but all he can think about is how he’s going to get through dinner with Eddie, and they finally leave with a disappointed glance at each other. 

Finally, he’s able to turn the open sign around – and then he remembers he never organized the movies from earlier. He fixes the shelves by dwindling sunlight, having shut off the overhead lights as soon as he could. It takes him about 30 minutes to fix it all, pausing every so often to just stand with his eyes closed. The words have lost their meanings and he hopes that basing his sorting off of the cover pictures is good enough.

Sitting in his car is the most relief Steve’s gotten all day. Eyes closed behind sunglasses he had clipped on his visor and the engine off he takes the time to breathe; the nausea has been coming and going on its own in waves and he almost wishes he could just go to sleep in his car. Getting back to the apartment is only possible through muscle memory and the knowledge that dinner still has to be made. He waits another few minutes in the car, trying to decide if any of the cars outside are of the band’s, or if he’s officially got Eddie all to himself. For the first time today he feels lucky when he doesn’t see Jeff’s car. 

Living on the second floor has its benefits, like not having upstairs neighbors and getting lots of natural sunlight for the apartment. It also has its downsides, like carrying heavy groceries in the heat and getting up to their door in one piece when a migraine has him by the throat. Even his key turning in the lock makes him cringe, clenching his teeth together as he steps in. It’s quiet in the apartment, a certain stillness in the air that Steve appreciates. He toes off his shoes, setting his keys in the little ceramic bowl El gifted him and Eddie when they moved, and then bends to straighten his shoes to the wall. Bending does not help his nausea and he swallows down a gag. 

“Stevie, honey? You make it home?” Eddie rounds the corner, a grin already on his face. His hair rests on his shoulders, frizzy curls around his head like a halo. Steve musters a small smile at Eddie, closing the distance between them with a few steps. The shirt Eddie’s wearing is well worn, old enough now that the words on the front have faded into the black around them and the collar is stretched out enough that Steve can almost see the top of a spider’s leg.

“Hey, hungry?” Normally Steve matches Eddie’s energy as best he can, but he can already feel his energy draining again. Should’ve sat in the car for a little while longer. He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek and continues his path to the kitchen. 

“You read my mind. You okay with cooking while I finish up some stuff before dinner? I promise you’ll have me all to yourself once food is ready. Just have some chords to figure out after talking with Gareth about some timing stuff.” Steve hopes Eddie’s looking when he nods because all of the movement from the stairs has caught up to him and he doesn’t think he has it in him to speak right now. 

Alone in the kitchen Steve just breathes. Almost done. Just have to brown the meat, toss it into some sauce and make the noodles. Easy. 

~

All of the ingredients are sitting on the counter when Steve finally loses the battle with his nausea and darts to the bathroom. He keeps the lights off, more focused on kneeling on the tile and trying to breathe through his gagging. A few minutes go by and he’s able to take a full breath in – just sitting down has taken the edge off. The darkness of the bathroom is more than welcome, he just wishes he wasn’t crouched over in his jeans still. Soft footsteps sound from the hallway heading towards the kitchen, guess Eddie finished his stuff.

“Stevie? Where’d you go?” As much as he’d love to answer, the effort it would take to yell for Eddie isn’t worth it right now so instead Steve leans against the tub, coolness spreading across his back. Another moment passes and Eddie rounds the corner to the bathroom, confusion on his face.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

Three words and the dam holding Steve together just, breaks. His head pounds worse when the tears start but he can’t stop now that he’s started. Today sucked. And now his night’s going just as poorly. Can’t even get dinner made. Eddie’s still looking at him but he can’t make out his expression through the tears blurring his vision. 

“Okay, alright, come here.” And then Eddie’s kneeling on the ground, arms outstretched for Steve to lean in to. As soon as he leans in, he’s crumpling into Eddie’s arms. 

~

Steve’s not sure how long they sit there, him crying into Eddie’s shirt, but the collar is nice and damp by the time he pulls away.Disgusting.

“As much as I love this surprise cuddle session, wanna tell me what’s going on?” He knows Eddie doesn’t mean to, but the sound of his boyfriend’s voice almost seems to echo in the bathroom. Steve shakes his head and whines, tries to burrow further into Eddie – done with pretending. His head hurts and his whole body feels heavy like concrete. Right now the best thing in the world is having his eyes shut, head tucked into Eddie’s neck, and having his back rubbed. Without an answer though, Eddie leans back, staring at Steve hard like he’s going to hear the answer if he thinks at Steve hard enough. 

“Head.” Just one word takes a herculean effort and Steve watches as recognition lights in Eddie’s eyes. Finally. And then Steve blinks long and slow. 

~

When Steve cracks his eyes open again he’s greeted by the wall of his and Eddie’s bedroom instead of the white of the bathroom. His head is still pounding but at least it’s dark in here, the curtains are drawn and he has a feeling even if they were open only the moon would greet him. He knows Eddie’s not currently in the room because the air feels still, and distantly he thinks he can hear movement in the kitchen. 

Shit, dinner. He was supposed to cook dinner tonight. He hears the small creak of the door opening and he shuts his eyes again – he’s not ready to see or talk to Eddie yet. Embarrassment heats his face remembering how much he cried earlier, not that Eddie hasn’t seen him in worse states. But Steve Harrington taken down by a simple headache? Stupid. Can’t even contribute to the house like Eddie. Can’t keep up with Dustin when he talks. Can’t be happy for his best friend when she lands a date. 

“Hey, baby. Gotta wake up, I want you to take some medicine and drink some water.” A gentle hand is on Steve’s calf, rubbing slightly to ‘wake’ him. He burrows deeper into the blankets instead of rolling over.

“Baby…” And now Eddie just sounds disheartened, another person Steve needs to apologize to. Eddie first, for crying for no reason. Then Dustin for not listening to his rant. Then Robin for not being more excited for her. “Medicine and then water, then you can sleep some more. Come on.” 

“I’m sorry.” Steve rolls over, tugging the blanket with him . He’s miserable and can’t think of anything better than sleep. Tomorrow he can make it up to Eddie; make him breakfast, do the laundry, make a grocery list, ask him how handing out with the guys went, check in about -

“-vie, I need you to focus for just a couple minutes. Where do you keep going? Get out of that head of yours, can’t imagine it’s helping your migraine.” The words are whispered and Steve blinks at Eddie. Brown eyes meet his and he manages a small smile. 

“Sorry.”

“No need for all that. If you’d listened the first time you’d know I don’t mind. I love getting to take care of you. I love you. Stop worrying about whatever it is, there’s nothing you need to make up for – so no more apologies.” Eddie’s so earnest when he talks, a smile on his face causing small dimples to form. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other, but it’s the damp washcloth Steve can see draped on his wrist that brings a tear to his eye. Doesn’t matter if Eddie never said those three words again, his actions say them enough. Damp wash cloths when Steve’s head hurts, standing up for Steve when one of the kid’s decides they don’t want to explain a reference they make, or even when he flashes him a knowing smile behind Robin’s head when she’s talking about Chrissy. He’s full of love, and no matter how much Steve might feel like he’s messed up – he knows Eddie’s got enough love for him too.

“Hey, why are we crying? Sit up and take these.” With a small sniffle Steve nods, sits up, and takes the medicine. The washcloth is cool on his skin where Eddie rests it, letting him burrow back into the blankets – and the last thing he feels is a gentle kiss to his cheek before sleep takes him again. 

[arachine]

— what's going on down there?: a dick analysis

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: jake sully, miles quaritch & norm spellman

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their human forms + avatar forms

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: talking about dicks obviously, explicit sexual content (?), humor lol

ᥫ᭡ note :: if you know anything about arachine, you know i love a good dick analysis. these posts are intended for comedic purposes only, which means they’re not to be taken seriously.

— jake “ima slut you out” sully

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: as we all know, jake’s life on earth was very unfulfilling. he was a man who sacrificed his legs for the fate of the country, only to be disposed of into the unforgiving hands of society, with no way to reap the benefits (or lack thereof) that veterans were promised to receive. and after losing the privilege of mobility, his body changed drastically. he got smaller, his body got weaker, and yet, one thing remained—that dick! jake is a survivor, through and through—his personal motto is: if it ain’t broken, then it’s still working—and boy, he does not disappoint when it comes to the downstairs department. standing tall at 7 inches, is little jake (maybe not so little). when flaccid, his length measures at a solid 5.7 inches. definitely a grower. 

⟳ width: a little bit on the skinnier side, but he knows how to use it and that’s all that matters!

⟳ color: i think for the most part, his shaft definitely matches the rest of his body; though, i can see it maybe being slightly a little more darker at the base, like a very light beige. when he’s flaccid, his tip is a pretty pink, almost like a ballet slipper (aka the best pink). turns into an angry red when fully erect!

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: jake pegs me as the kinda guy who doesn’t really care? i mean, trimming isn’t foreign to him, because he has trimmed it before, and does so when he notices it’s gotten to be too long…but, i don’t think it’s something that he does often. to him, it’s just hair. he’s on his grown man shit, you know? 

02. curved?: uhm, yes! you know that one beyoncé lyric? yeah. 

03. any veins?: absolutely covered in ‘em

04. how he fucks with it: i’d like to think before his accident, he was a doggy style connoisseur—come on, it’s jake we’re talking about here. can’t nobody tell me otherwise! i just know he had bitches bent over, weaves sweated out, makeup all over the pillows…mans was f-u-c-k-i-n-g okay? fuckingggg. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: the masses may attack me, but it’s time i spoke up. the man has a monster schlong. a cooter cat killer, if you will. if you thought his human form was big, shit, you ain’t seen nothing yet! completely flaccid, his cock measures to about 10 inches. when fully hard, he grows an additional three! talk about impressive…

⟳ width: so thick that it basically slaps his thighs when he walks. the man could create a beat with it, get em into the soundcloud business now!

⟳ color: self explanatory tbh, it’s fucking blue. as blue as papa smurf’s ass. 

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that because he’s an avatar, he grows hair there. even if i’m wrong, i’m right. i don’t give a damn what james cameron says. he’s basically my character at this point, and i will him to have hair damnit! just…the idea of him having a full bush down there, in the wild, all primitive and shit…does something to me. idk. don’t ask me why i’m so nasty, blame my deadbeat father. 

02. curved?: is a banana yellow? there’s your answer. 

03. any veins?: i might have a brain aneurysm just thinking about it, but yes! god, yes. so many…so, so, so many. ribbed for her pleasure or whatever trojan said. 

04. how he fucks with it: is he still the doggy style connoisseur? yes. but now that’s got the strength of 20 men, backshots sound a whole lot like gunshots now. they say every time the mighty toruk makto thrusts into a cunt, a tree falls down or something. so, yes. fucks hard, fucks rough, fucks like he’s on a mission. what’s that one tik tok audio? “rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, i dive in her cervix.” yeah, he lives by that. 

— miles “on your knees, cadet!” quaritch

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: just gonna cut right to the chase. he’s huge. like pussy splitting huge. i don’t care what anyone says, you can argue with ya friend, you can argue with ya mother, but you cannot argue with me! coming in at a solid 6 when flaccid, quaritch takes the cake for the biggest cock on this list (at least, human form wise). at full length, he measures to about 7.8 inches! 

‘booooo’ you say, well, guess what? it’s the truth, and i’m just the messenger. whether you hate him or love him, he’s just that guy. 

⟳ width: surprisingly average. but it’s okay, sometimes you can’t have the best of both worlds. 

⟳ color: if my memory serves me right, he was pretty tan in the first movie. so, i’m gonna stick with that and say that it’s a pretty tan that transitions into a pale pink. i don’t know if some of you have seen old dick, but their tips get less saturated with age. it’s a phenomenon (not really, the blood flow to the groin is just a lot slower, which can make it appear kind of gre—anyway, i digress!)

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: this man is a colonel, so he’s all about discipline and keeping things nice and tidy. so, obviously, his hygiene reflects that. i don’t think he goes completely bald, but he does give it a good trim. kind of like a fade…just imagine a patch of grey, prickly hair. yeah. 

02. curved?: yes, and since he’s older, it’s probably curved a lot. you could probably hang something on it. maybe a towel, or a lanyard. it’s definitely useful for something!

03. any veins?: god, i don’t know why, but i have it in my head that he’s on steroids. he’s just so buff and strong, and i mean, yeah, he could just be really fit…but he could also be a self-image obsessed freak who takes drugs to be the perfect soldier. the correlation, you ask? well, i just feel like people who take steroids are really veiny, and i feel like his dick would be really, really veiny. so, thus the rant about steroids. steroid dick. 

04. how he fucks with it: don’t let his age fool you. he may very well be pushing his late fifties, but he’s still a young man at heart—and he’s definitely got the sex drive to prove it! i can see his favorite position being something like missionary. not so much because he enjoys the intimacy of it (like being face to face), but more so because he’s got a size kink—and definitely a dacryphilia kink. he enjoys seeing his partners cry, whether in pain, or in pleasure, or both! so, when you’re fucking him, don’t expect anything romantic. he just wants to see your pretty little face all teary eyed and pathetic. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: so big you can see it from space; that’s how the RDA mfs know they’re close, because they can see the tip protruding from pandora. no, but seriously, it’s still really huge. like maybe 12-14 inches—maximum. 

⟳ width: probably twice as thick as a human’s forearm. and god, it’s sooooo heavy. big breeding balls to match. 

⟳ color: blue blue blue…like wet fun dip. with just as many stripes as the american flag or whatever. 

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: yes, but the hair is black instead of grey and it’s probably really straight because na’vi hair is straight as fuck. 

02. curved?: sir, yes sir. 

03. any veins?: what’d i say? steroid dick. but even worse (better) now bc he’s so damn tall, he needs all the blood he can get down there.

04. how he fucks with it: has you in all types of positions. his favorites are anything that shows off his new found strength, so i’m betting on full nelsons and mating presses. just fast, powerful strokes. lives by the motto: can’t stop, won’t stop.

— norm “what’s the sq root of 69?” spellman

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: i’m sorry to disappoint the norm fuckers (if there are any), but he’s not that big. when he’s soft, his cock measures to about 4.8 inches, and at most, 6.2 inches when hard. 

⟳ width: skinny dick. 

⟳ color: dawg he’s so white, it’s like hella pale and the tip is so pink that when he’s aroused, it looks like there’s something wrong.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: like jake, i don’t think he really cares.

02. curved?: straight like a pencil

03. any veins?: like two, and they’re really prominent because he’s so fucking pale.

04. how he fucks with it: i don’t think human norm is getting puss, let’s be real. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: i am a firm believer in N.W.B.C—nerds with big cocks. it’s just the universe’s way of saying thank you, they just…they just do so much for us, you know? norm may not have been packing down there in his human form, but this was his second chance at redemption. he’s now a proud member of N.W.B.C, sporting an impressive 15 inches. you know that one scene in the first spider-man when pete’s looking at himself in the mirror and he looks inside his briefs? yeah, that was norm when he found out. the man got so excited, he accidentally catapulted a scientist out of pandora’s atmosphere with the weight of his cock. joking. 

⟳ width: on the skinnier side but still toe curling, nonetheless.

⟳ color: laffy taffy blue, with little (big) blueberry balls.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: no, he’s too busy in the lab and getting na’vi puss.

02. curved?: unfortunately no

03. any veins?: more than before, which he was pleasantly surprised to see.

04. how he fucks with it: norm’s got a big dick, but he acts so shy, like he’s scared of it or something. like stop playing boy and drop them drawls, the fuck? anyway, i think norm’s a sub. he pegs me as the type of guy who likes strong women, women who’ll tell him to shut the fuck up (because he talks so much) and eat their pussies. i guess this makes him a munch. yeah, he’s a munch. ice spice actually wrote that song with him in mind!

© arachine 2023

[httpvomitello]

Okay soooo~ this is my first time writing to ur acc but- I have a headcon idea about the rottmnt boys and I just laughed so hard on the inside- Okay so picture them with a short bestfriend/crush like around 5,1 or 4,11 you get the idea anyway- So their bestfriend/crush made a bet that they couldn't find them in 5-10 minutes and since reader is so short they can fit into any type of space like the kitchen cabinets maybe the ceiling maybe even the lab- and the boys are just looking around trying to find their bestfriend/crush and then maybe after so much time has passed their bestfriend/crush jumps out and scares the living daylights out of them- (*cough* Mostly Donnie or Leo *cough*) those two have the best reactions when caught off guard can't convince me otherwise- tho I feel like Donnie would be getting scared shitless the most because he always somehow forgets their bestfriend/crush is short af and can fit and hide anywhere and probably in his lab- Like just imagine Donnie in his lab working on shelldon only for their bestfriend/crush scare him shitless while he just stands there frozen staring into space trying to come back down to reality- because the poor guy got so scared his soul almost left him early- I'm actually dying picturing it and it being so fucking funny-🤣😂

Nooooo ~ The worst part is that I also find this funny 🥹 Anyways.... (I'm also short, and I think I would end up scaring them by appearing out of nowhere because of my height) Hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Starts off cocky

He’s laughing as he searches, all swagger, tossing out taunts like, “C’mon, this’ll be easy! You’re like, what, a foot tall?”

At first, he checks all the obvious spots, confident he’ll win

But when he doesn’t find them right away

He starts getting… annoyed

With each passing minute, he’s scrambling more and getting low-key panicked

(But will never admit it)

He’s crawling under tables, looking behind every cabinet, even balancing on his toes to check high places, muttering, “Where are you?”

By minute 9, he’s convinced they’re using some kind of stealth magic

Just when he’s about to yell for a hint

His friend leaps out of a high cabinet right above his head, shouting, “Found you!”

Leo jumps about a mile in the air and definitely lets out a yelp, only to turn and immediately play it cool

“Pfft, please, I knew you were up there the whole time,” he insists, laughing nervously while they’re laughing their head off

(He’ll never live it down).

Donnie approaches the challenge like a tactical mission

He’s positive his analytical skills will give him the edge, he’s done simulations for situations like this

He starts systematically checking everywhere he deems logical, mumbling calculations under his breath

He doesn’t even consider weird spots like tiny cabinets or tight spaces because he just assumes “they can’t fit in there.”

But as time ticks down and they still haven’t turned up, he starts… glitching

It bothers him that he can’t find them

He’s questioning his methods, his intelligence, his sanity

By minute 10, he’s pulling apart his lab in desperation, muttering, “Statistically, this makes no sense…”

Then...

BAM!

They leap out from behind a stack of lab equipment, yelling “BOO!”

He freezes

Doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just stands there, eyes wide, brain processing while his crush is cracking up

It takes him a solid five seconds to finally exhale and snap back to reality, half-annoyed, half-awed

“How… what… That was highly unnecessary.” But inside?

He’s impressed. Very impressed.

Raph is convinced he’s got this in the bag

He’s actually low-key excited to find them

Searches quickly, carefully looking under furniture and checking behind things

His biggest worry?

Accidentally breaking whatever tiny space they might be hiding in

Around the 5-minute mark, he’s getting a little worried, muttering “Alright, you gotta come out sometime.”

(He’s trying to sound annoyed but is actually having a blast.)

After a few more minutes, they finally jump out from a hidden nook and yell, “Gotcha!”

He’s startled, sure, but instead of jumping, he just lets out a big laugh and grins wide

“Nice try, short stuff. Almost got me there.”

He’s proud

Just doesn’t totally understand why anyone would want to squeeze into such a tiny spot to hide

Raph will start opening the cabins more carefully from now on, afraid that they might be hiding there out of nowhere.

He’s 100% into it, like it’s a treasure hunt, bouncing from place to place, calling out, “Ready or not, here I come!”

He’s convinced his “hide-and-seek intuition” will help him find them in record time

But when he can’t find them, he only gets more hyped

For Mikey, it’s all part of the fun

At minute 10, he’s practically pleading

“Alright, you win! Just tell me where you are!” He even starts rapping, trying to coax them out

When they finally jump out, surprising him with a “BOO!”

He lets out a huge scream and then immediately starts laughing

“That was awesome! You’re like a tiny ninja or something!”

(Mikey gets a little paranoid though, thinking they're going to jump out at him out of nowhere.)

100% asks for a rematch immediately

Mikey just wants an excuse to play this all over again.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 10- Barracuda Mike

Series masterlist

Warnings: small mention of vomit, mentions of alcohol, pretty much it. Not a whole lotta rafe

“Jesus- why’d we even take her with us?” John B asked JJ as they watched you down yet another drink.

“That- that was my last one, okay?!” You defended, crushing the can and rolling your eyes.“And let’s face it, I’m smarter than you two idiots.” You pointed at them.

“You dropped out.” JJ retorted.

“Okay, I never said I was book smart. Street smart.” You shrugged. “You might know calculus but what use is that if you don’t know how to get out of a 2000 dollar debt with a drug dealer? Or how to tell which one of your friends is talking shit behind your back? I’m extremely smart.”

“Wh- you know what, nevermind.” John b mumbled to himself. “Can we please get back on topic?” He asked you, you nodding and sitting up now with a sigh.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

“You actually think he’s gonna get arrested?” Kiara asked Sarah.

“He can’t get arrested. Not now. If he’s locked up, he can’t help his dad. I have to fix this. Can you give me a ride to Toppers? Please?”

“You don’t think this plan could make things worse?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know what’s gonna happen with me and John B, but what I do know is I can’t just sit by and watch him get arrested while his dad’s abducted. I have to try.”

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

The next morning, JB rung the bell on the yard, you and jj stirring at the sound. You groaned, covering your face from the light that came through.

“Shit.” You mumbled, feeling a massive hangover. Your head pounded.

John B sighed, listening to nothing but the seagulls squawking.

“It’s something about the dudes face, you know? Like the whole no hard feelings, bro, you know what I’m saying?” John B spoke to you both, coming across on a skateboard.

“No hard feelings. It’s kinda hard not to have hard feelings about that.”

“He’s a dick, we all know this.” You mumbled to him. “Is there like some Tylenol or something? I’m dying here.”

“Yeah, in the medicine cabinet.” JB nodded over to it. You stood up, stumbling inside and to the bathroom. They watched you go inside, John b turning back to JJ.

“What’s her deal?” John B asked

JJ shrugged. “Hell if I know. She’s been a fucking wreck recently.” He paused.

“Well, I mean she’s taken care of Luke for like her whole life, now he’s gone. I’m sure that’s probably most of it.” John B shrugged.

“Nah, something seems off.” JJ mumbled. “Like she’s hiding something. She doesn’t drink like that unless she is.”

“Well, do you really think she can help us when she’s like that?” John B asked him.

“Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to like her but you gotta admit, she is one hell of a problem solver. And a fighter.” JJ paused.

“Like.. oh, oh, remember how she got you outta that detention?” Jj snapped his fingers. “And how she beat up those kids who pulled out their switchblade on you?”

John B laughed at the memory. “Dude, I had the biggest crush on her then.”

“Oh, we know. You would invite her over to the Chateau all red faced, stuttering and shit.” He laughed along.

Once the laughter died down, John B spoke up again. “Is she dead or something in there?”

“Nah, she’s probably puking her brains out right now.”

“Should we.. check?”

“Alright.” JJ stood up, opening the door and leaning in as he shouted into the Chateau.

“Are you dead?!”

“No I’m not fucking d-“ you shouted back, before being cut off with a groan and putting your face back by the toilet bowl.

“Yeah. Puking.” JJ spoke, going into the chateau, John B following.

“Well.. anyways, I was thinking… passports. We don’t have ‘em.” John B switched up the topic, both boys walking to the kitchen.

You got out of the bathroom.

“Therefore we can’t fly commercial. We need other ideas.”

“Fake passports?” You suggested. “I know a guy.”

“It’s a good idea but we don’t have the time for that.” John B told you, opening the fridge.

“Okay, well, don’t you got the money that you took from Portis?”

“I have that to my dad.”

“So then what about a boat?” JJ suggested. John B sniffed some milk, coughing and putting it back in the fridge, most definitely expired.

“If we get a boat, maybe we could get down there ‘cause the HMS… yeah. You know about the HMS.” JJ went into the fridge now, “Oh! Limbrey, Limbrey has a boat! What if we took that one?”

“Yeah, no. She took that back, and the HMS is not gonna make it down to the Port of Spain, so out on the boats.”

You sat on top of the counter, grabbing a glass and using the faucet.

“So..” you paused, taking a sip of water. “We don’t got any money, and we also don’t have a boat that can make it down to South America.”

“Great.”

“Actually, I might know a guy. I’m onto something…” JJ mumbled.

You furrowed your eyebrows hearing the sound of a truck pull up. You looked outside.

“Uh-oh.” John B spoke, you looking at him as you both crouched behind the cabinets.

“You don’t start with uh oh, dude. You’re so negative-“ JJ spoke, still standing. You grabbed his arm, yanking him down.

“Get down, shoupe is right out front!” You whisper yelled to him.

“All right, John B.” He said from outside, all of you crawling and whisper yelling at each other

“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home? John B!”

“Go under there! Under there, right now.” You told them both, pointing to a small table.

They managed to hide themselves by uncomfortably managing to fit under. You couldn’t fit.

You panicked, jj motioning for you to hurry.

“I can’t fit with you two fatasses under there!” You whispered, desperately trying to find anything else. Shoupe began to walk closer and you were running out of time.

You glanced outside, making sure you weren’t in view as you stood up and ran as quickly as possible to the nearest room, hiding yourself under the bed.

“I know you’re in there!” Shoupe spoke, now in front of the door.

He knocked on the door, looking inside through the window.

“If he sees you, it’s game over.”

“I know, okay, J?”

“Don’t get that.”

“I know you can hear me in there.” He banged. “You need to come out and talk to me. It’ll be a whole lot worse if you don’t.” He sighed, finally walking away from the door.

“Okey-doke, have it your way! You know where you can find me.” He called out, getting in his car and starting the engine.

“All right, let’s peel.” John B spoke, both of them grunting and getting up from the table.

“Shit, JJ?” You shouted, coming from outside the bedroom.

“You guys alright?” You asked them,

“Yeah.” They both said in unison.

“All right, I got a plan, all right? Think it might work.” JJ said. “It’s a little sketchy, might not like it. But I think it’ll work.”

“No, no, no, no, wait, wait, what plan?” John B stopped him.

“If I tell you now when the plan is half baked, you’ll get all negative.”

“Look, I’d settle for a quarter baked plan.”

JJ mumbled over him, using a mocking voice. “Come on!”

“Don’t you dare make that noise at me.” John B rolled his eyes, both of you following JJ anyways.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

“Hey.” Rafe spoke, a small smile on his face as Sofia woke up.

“So, is this place really all yours?” She asked him.

“More like lord of the manor shit.”

She laughed at him, as he stepped outside, looking at the mess the party had left.

He looked over, his mind being flooded with the memory of you storming over there yesterday. A part of him hoped it had ended differently and you would give in.

But he knew you weren’t like that, he knew you were stubborn when it came to these things.

What’s worse is that his suspicions about the pogues knowing he had melted the cross down was confirmed when you came over.

Rafe stormed over to where he knew his dad was, his mind also going to a conversation he had with Barry. “It’s you or your dad.”

“I’m taking care of business. I’m laying groundwork, I’m making connections, I’m trying to plant my flag here, okay? So you just need to go back to your island where it’s safe, and you need to stop jamming me up, okay?”

Ward stood up, sighing at his son.

“If you get caught here, it ruins everything.”

“I’d figured you’d know where to find me, of all people.” He chuckled. “I’m glad you did. I think it’s clear from what happened yesterday… I was right. You’re on a very bad path, Rafe.”

“Your opinion, not mine. Okay? I’m good.”

“You’re making the same mistakes again and again, the same ones I did, okay?”

“Right..”

“So I’m gonna help you, son. I decided to make some changes.”

“What are those..?” Rafe asked him.

“I’m taking control of the company away from you.”

Rafe paused. “What?”

“You’re not in charge anymore, Rafe.”

“What are you saying?”

“My attorneys found a more recent document that left control to Rose.”

Rafe exhaled, nodding. “Rose?”

“Yeah. You didn’t think I was gonna give up complete control, did you, Rafe? Not be able to tap the rudder a little bit? I’m very generous with my children.”

Rafes fists clenched, itching to punch his father at the moment. “Oh, are you?”

“But I’m not a complete fool.”

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

“Oh, perfect, Rockfish.”

“Hey, I remember bashing a beer bottle over some dude here.” You reminisced, smile on your face.

“There’s a guy here, that’s always here, moves a lot of weight. My dad worked for him.”

“No, you don’t mean Barracuda Mike? That asshat?!” You exclaimed, jumping out the car with JJ.

“Come on, there’s gotta be a better option than this.” John B said, knowing Barracuda Mike.

“Oh, you know what? There is a better option, except there’s not. All right, dude? Seriously, we don’t have a whole lot of time and your dad needs help right now and this guy is gonna be the key to getting down to South America ASAP.”

“Let me do the talking, okay?”

You and John B exchanged looks, watching Jj walk up to him. You both followed him.

“Yo, Mike!” Mike turned around at Jjs voice. “Yo! You remember me, right? You know it, it’s on the tip of your tongue.. J-“

“Luke’s son!” He put the knife in the board. “And daughter.” He nodded to you.

“Uh, also go by JJ, but uhm, that’s y/n, and this is our good friend John B.”

“Routledge.”

“In the flesh. Yep.”

“Heard stories about you three, especially you.” He pointed at you. You gave him a small salute and smile.

“Sounds about right.” You shrugged.

“I mean, he’s a stone cold cop k… killer..”JJ paused, you looking over to your side to see a very tall and large man standing menacingly beside you.

“No, I’m not.”

“Mike, I’m gonna be honest about why we’re here, okay? Since my darling little brother can’t seem to speak, we are in a little bit of trouble, and we need to get down to South America, if that’s uh-“ you spoke, before he cut you off.

“I’m sorry, slick, but I done sold the travel agency.”

You laughed, looking down and back at him.

“I mean, we’re not looking for some free handout here, alright? Name- name a price, you got it.” You shrugged. “We just need to parley, in um, private, if that’s cool with you.”

John B looked over, before you and JJ could even more.

“Just stay here, just stay here.” JJ mumbled to him.

“No you’re not gonna do this.” He whispered, “you’re not gonna leave me he-“

JJ walked into the large man. “Excuse you! All right.” He walked out.

You followed, looking at the man and saying “sorry for him. He’s a bit slow.” And walking outside with them.

You and JJ walked onto the dock, with Mike.

“Look, I know you got planes comin’ in with bales of weed from South America, they need to be unloaded, right? That’s what my dad did for you, and I’ve done it quite a few times, I can do it for you, Mike,” you pointed to yourself and to him.

“He would come home and brag about how much he made one night, which was 10k right? That’s a shit ton of money, we’re willing to do it for free.” You told him.

He scoffed, “nothings free, kid.”

“I live by that one too, all right? So, I’ll be honest, all we want is just some space in the cargo hold when you make your next trip down there. That’s all I want.”

“You just want a ride.”

“Just want a ride in that cargo hold. And then in exchange you get three sets of free hands, and another 20k in your pocket, sounds like a win to me.” You laughed. “What do you say?”

“5:30.” He called out.

“5:30, tonight, yes sir! We’ll see you!” You told him, walking back to JB.

“Fuck, I’m back. Missed this shit.” You said with a smile, JJ and you doing a handshake you made up as kids as you walked.

“Yeah, you are.” He exclaimed.

“Nice to meet you guys!” You waved bye to them as JJ grabbed John B, you guys leaving to the Twinkie.

“So I convinced him to get us a ride, but we have to do something.”

“Okay, what do we gotta do?” John B asked.

“Just a lil’ something.” JJ shrugged.

“A little something?”

“Yeah..”

“Every time you say a little something it’s never a little something.”

“John B, it’s literally the easiest job in the world, bro.” JJ told him, stopping in his tracks.

John B groaned.

“We just unload it. You know what they do on planes? You know on delta and united when they take the bags off of the-“

“Yes- yes.”

“That’s what we’re doing, okay? Once we do that we punch our tickets, go on to South America, sipping on piña coladas.”

“Shit, that sounds good right about now.” You murmured.

“Except you, no more alcohol for you.” JJ pointed to you.

“Oh, cmon! That’s not fair, you’re not my dad.”

“Yeah, well, you’re driving.” He threw the keys at you, you groaned and got into the drivers seat.

——-

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

[buggyjuggie]

The lin kuei trio + johnny,raiden and kung lao with a figure skating reader?⛸️

──★ ˙ ̟The Lin kuei trio + Johnny, Raiden and Kung lao x GN! Figure skating reader

「 ✦ Bi-han ✦ 」

* Ok i known it might seem obvious that ice powers = good at figure skating but i dont think Bi han is good at it…like at all

* I don’t know this idea is kinda funny to me he tries ,then fails, gets mad and says he’ll never do it again ( if you plead with him enough he’ll try and the cycle repeats)

* Just like with the skater headcanon he has to watch from the sidelines

* Tho as an act of service (hc: his love language) he cleans your skates, makes sure they are up to code and sharpens them.

* Like with Thomas back in they’re childhood he helps you practice by changing the ground into ice.

「 ✦ Kuai liang ✦ 」

* I would say Kua liang is decent at figure skating. Not disastrous like Bi han but also not 10/10 like Thomas

* He enjoys just skating in circles slowly while talking to you

* Just make sure to help him if he ever falls down so that he doesn’t melt the ice out of embarrassment

* He tries to attend every competition that your in but if he’s busy he leaves some flowers and a note for you

* Is the most supportive partner ever gives hugs, kisses, praises and so on after shows.

「 ✦ Smoke/Thomas ✦ 」

*As stated in Kuai liangs sections he’s a GOD at figure skating, it’s practically his secret talent

* Both of you tend to get competitive and try to out do each other

*He sometimes overdoes the spins in an effort to win against you and makes himself dizzy

* During his childhood would pleade with Bihan to turn the ground to ice so he could practice (Bi han caved but then messed with Thomas and made him fall)

* Like Kuai liang he tries to show up to every competition that your in. Even makes those supportive homemade posters

* He tends to embarrass you sometimes but it’s out of love so you can’t get mad at him.

「 ✦ Johnny Cage ✦ 」

* If you compete in any skating competitions your trophies go next to his

* He even sometimes cleans them for you

* Is always posting pictures or videos of either you performing or practicing to his socials

* You now have stan accounts dedicated to you and your carrier thanks to him

* If he ever has to play a roll that includes figure skating your phone better NOT be on silent because your the first person he’s calling up

* Takes you ice skates and costume shopping and yes he does get you custom everything as a surprise

「 ✦ Raiden ✦ 」

* I feel like Raiden is less than average when it comes to figure skatting

* He doesn’t fall on his ass all the time but he still has to use a skating aid or hold on to you

* Like Kuai liang likes just slow skatting around the ring and talking or in silence while taking in your presence

* After competitions takes you to Madam Bo’s even if you didn’t win he still wants to show that you should still be proud of yourself

* Once your done with practice if he sees that your cold he gives you his jacket and always carries a thermos with hot tea to keep you warm.

(Oh my god this gif)

「 ✦ Kung lao ✦ 」

* Tries to act like he isn’t but he’s scared

* After a bit of practice slowly starts to get the hang of things

* Once he’s good enough to be on his own first thing he learns is how to do a hockey stop just to annoy you

* Always brags to people about how cool you are and the amount of awards you’ve won

* Tried to write a message for you on ice ussing his hat but forgot that the skattes also leave marks so it just ended up being unreadable (you still appreciate the thought at least)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

And another request done ! I had so much fun with this one like my brain was filled with ideas i managed to finish this in only a day and again i really enjoys doing this one :3

[mochinomnoms]

This is a very specific thing I said to my friends so if they follow your blog then they would know who I am but the whole thing of buy one get two free deal came from something that is common in my country where in local bazaars they sell these showering kits that came with shampoo, conditioner and a bottle of liquid soap my mind clearly infected with twst could only think about the octotrio being one of these packages Azul is the soap, and the twins are the shampoo and conditioner and the three of the products are wrapped with tape so you are forced to get the three which is oddly cute to me but onto the main thing!

Came up with another octotrio polycule idea since yuu represents a shrimp in Floyd's weird lenses of seeing the world sometimes if done intentionally or not you tend to clean up the twins or patch them up even fixing up their (poorly put on) uniform Jade got dirt in his face when he was in a mountain trip? Come here you careless eel and wipe out the dirt then you can talk about your new findings BUT WASH YOUR HANDS FIRST

Floyd decided to do parkour or maybe he just dumped a whole smoothie on himself because he was hot and used the drink to cool off and there you go, disinfect the wounds or scratches and putting silly cute band-aids (one time he got mad that his favorite design was out and you placed a mushroom design band aid since he still needed one, remind yourself to go stack up with the band-aids before Jade goes and sniffles about his dear brother using his favorite band-aids)

I am thinking that since the twins are a bit much more affectionate or aren't as busy as Azul is, you are doing one of your "Nurse/cleaner shirmp" (Floyd gave them the name) on one of the tweels and you guys were in Azul's office so he sighs trying to get attention he wishes that he also got his own nurse/cleaner shirmp affections if he doesn't say it out loud he can and will break his pen/ink flask and oh no! His gloves are completely ruined!! Clearly coaxing you into helping him with the mess or when he does voice his wishes about it when you two/three are present the tweels are quick to tease him about it "I thought that octopuses didn't go to cleaner shrimp stations?" or "Would you be able to provide protection in exchange? I thought that octopuses weren't predators" Okay that was rude, it is on. Of course that he can protect the shrimpy and if octopuses didn't go to cleaner shirmp stations then he would change that! Overall silliness and sweetness (They are having a discussion about planning to surprise you with a visit to the coral sea and going to visit their parents!!) they might turn almost anything into a friendly/loving competition and you are trapped in them but they are still so sweet and caring for you and each other 10/10 definitely a unique dynamic but awesome either way

(the same anon forcing their brain to fabricate more octotrio polycule ideas)

I think Floyd takes the most delight in seeing you care for them like an actual shrimp. He thinks it's endearing and will definitely make efforts to get dirty or mildly hurt so that you'll attend to him.

The other two have their own nicknames for you: Jade calls you and Azul My Pearl/Darling while Azul calls you Angelfish and the twins Dear(s).

It's Azul's way of showing affection, as he is quite reserved with his affections, at least until you're all in private. He does envy the liberal affections that the twins have with you, Floyd in particular doesn't care much about what others think, and Jade generally is more reserved than his brother, but will still give you chaste kisses when saying hello/goodbye. Azul, at most, will hold hands and maybe tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ears, something he often does during quiet moments.

It may be silly, but he gets a little jealous at seeing y'all share PDA when he's still getting used to the new dynamic. So he's coaxing you to come help him clean up! Look at his hands, they're absolutely stained with ink! Won't you please help him clean up Angelfish? 🥺

It backfires as the twins also take the opportunity to “care” for Azul. Instead of letting you fuss over him quickly, they decide that this is a sign that he's much too tired to continue working, look at the mess he made! It's time to close his office early and cuddle pile in his bedroom!! Jade's making the extra effort to run a bath in the absurdly large tub in Azul's private bathroom, while Floyd is running around collecting pillows and blankets to make a nest/fort. You do your do diligence and help Jade tend to him, causing him to get more and more flustered.

The night ends with the twins teasing the silly little octopus for wanting some tending from the shrimp. They're complaining that he never asks for affection like that from them!!! Eels can be gentle too, we promise Azul~

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapters 9 + 10 Review

‼️SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER‼️

Warning(s): watch me bully an old man, aurora slander, osamodas king slander, fat shaming, excessive use of foul language, racism, misogyny, did I mention I loath Aurora?, they’re both bad antagonists your honor, cyberbullying, PURE LOATHING.

I’d like to add a side note here:

I initially planned on reviewing chapters 9 and 10 separately but when I saw that confrontation between Aurora and Amalia, I decided to fuse the two instead. I did NOT want to talk about these specific chapters in their distinct posts because it would’ve sucked to see the conflict between Aurora and Amalia getting cut off in the middle of it.

We’re back.

Let the pummelling begin.

Aurora immediately starts making a fart face as she begins diving down to “attack” Amalia.

Are we impressed? No.

Should we be scared? No.

Should we expect any twist in the fight? No.

As soon as Aurora stupidly declared she wanted to fight, we all knew she was gonna get beat up to shit. Tot and Cathiane were trying very hard not to cringe while showing this. You can trust me, I was there in the room with them when they were thinking about this scene.

This is just very painful but my god was it funny as fuck.

This blue bitch with the witch face really thought she could take on a Mother Nature wielder with her chicken fingers please someone get this moron a brain.

Also what reason could Aurora possibly have to have wanted to beat Amalia to a pulp all these years? She claims she’s dreamed of doing this for so long but based on what reason? The fact that Amalia rejected all of Aurora’s weakass brothers and cousin for marriage? The fact that she would respectfully and calmly try to talk to Aurora even though she never liked her??? Bitch, what was the reason that would have made her so mad you wanted to beat her up????

Even Bonta will hear her scream in pain??? Girl, what the fuck are you babbling about? She clinically does not have a brain, where the fuck did it go? Aurora, YOU KNOW Amalia goes out and travels, right??? You know that her squad is filled with divinities, right??? What part of you thought it was a good idea to say that out loud AND think you had THE ADVANTAGE?????

This bitch wouldn’t survive a day outside of her kingdom, this is so fucking embarrassing. I loath her guts but imagine how embarrassed I’m feeling for her. She’s mentally slow. She doesn’t realize anything that’s coming out of her mouth and doesn’t use whatever’s up in that head of hers to properly think of any situation she’s in. She can’t think for herself, she can’t talk for herself if she wants to claim something, she can’t figure out the level of danger that she’s in, she can’t fight, she can’t lead, she can’t speak politely to servants, she can’t even be honest in a normal situation. I bet she can’t even make a sandwich for me, this hoe is even useless in the kitchen, on god.

And finally. FINALLY.

WE FINALLY GET TO HEAR AMALIA SAY THOSE WORDS.

You have no idea how much I fucking wanted Amalia to beat the living crap out of her and tell her how fucking weak she truly is compared to her. I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since we saw her stupid ass “family” make its entrance in Chapter 1.

YES, TELL THIS CUNT THE SEVERE GAP OF YOUR STRENGTH LEVEL ‼️‼️‼️

TURN THIS BITCH INTO A MCSANDWICH ‼️

Amalia is speaking our thoughts so coherently. Not once did we think Aurora was a menace, let alone even an antagonist. This bitch is just so braindead and one-dimensional that even calling her “self-aware” or “sentient” is odd to say.

With all the shit she’s been doing, Aurora is not even an annoyance, she’s a migraine.

This shot of her just getting the shit get beaten out of her made me so happy, you have no idea.

Like Tot must’ve been WAITING to see this hoe get wrecked too.

@geekgirles once explained how the osamodas’ strength might just be very weak compared to other races and how that weakness reflected itself based on where it was positioned in Oropo's tower. Coqueline can also be considered as a preview of what Aurora and her dad's strength would've looked like in the great wave because even Coqueline STRUGGLED to throw good attacks while fighting Oropo. She was canonically confirmed to be the oldest of the Siblings (even older than Echo) and yet the only thing she could have come up with while fighting Oropo was to use her teeth to try to tear Oropo's new form?? She literally went on all fours and tried to attack him with basic primitive skills. Literally what the heck.

So yeah, Aurora is unsurprisingly getting beat up and thrown around like a rag-doll by Amalia.

Amalia, honey.

Aurora’s not naive, she’s just really slow.

And yet that’s not even what we can describe it either.

Your pride is still here dumbass cuz you don’t look fine at all.

You got thrown so hard you couldn’t even fly, bitch.

Hoe thinks she was fine after the beating AND the throwing and then lies again about it.

Fucking pathetic.

I bet if she got a sword stabbed in her womb, she’d be like “i’M FiNe FaThER, bUt I cAN’t SaY tHe SaMe fOr mY pRiDe.” SHUT YOUR DUMBASS UP-

When Amalia comes up to them, this is where the osamodas king pulls out another weak manipulation tactic by saying this:

Motherfucker, you attempted to kick her out of her kingdom, her home, what the fuck are you talking about? Bitch is clarifying that Aurora’s child is Amalia’s nephew now??? He is so fucking weak, he’d pretend like he never tried kicking her out like a complete stranger just to save his own skin.

This dick dared to throw the “he’s your family” card on her as if he didn’t just encourage Aurora to tell Amalia she doesn’t belong in her fucking kingdom a few hours ago.

Dude thought he ate, this is so embarrassing.

Look at him trying to scramble his way out of this.

Now that he realizes how weak and pathetic he is against A PRINCESS WHO BECAME QUEEN JUST A FEW MONTHS AGO, he’s trying to do anything in his power to do what he does best to get out of this alive: lie and manipulate.

Only this predictably fails since Amalia had enough of his and his trophy daughter’s bullshit of constantly being forced to have them around.

And Amalia is absolutely pissed off that they can just say whatever they want so SHE ENUMERATES THE THINGS THAT THEY DID JUST SO SHE CAN BE SURE IT FINALLY DRILLED IN THEIR HEADS.

Even though what she said wasn’t exactly everything they did, she still has a right to point out the main thing they are known for since the necrome war.

But nah, they’re too stupid to actually get it and don’t even bear a second to the idea that their actions could have cost AN ENTIRE FUCKING RACE TO ERASE FROM THE WORLD. Imagine not having a full grasp of the idea that you could have been responsible for an entire race disappearing but also be the reason why the world had suddenly lost about 15% of its population in under a second.

No jackass you’re not leaving.

You’re dying here.

Also what the fuck? He got backed to a corner by a queen newbie and he still has the balls to say that he’ll come back???

Is he trying to see his daughter get her ass kicked again???? Or is he trying to see how long he could last the next time they meet????

How the fuck is he king??? What the hell is that strategy he came up with???? You call that a STRATEGY?????

Now I understand why we never saw him in any of the past seasons before. I understand why his fucking advisor has to be king for him.

Cuz he sucks at his own fucking job.

That guy hired his counsellor to represent him which is why every time the royal council of the world had to reunite, it was always the old white-bearded dude who spoke and was actually present.

This fucking gorilla was so absent from his own duties. So much so, that for an extremely long time, since 2012, we all thought the white-bearded guy representing the osamodas race from Season 2 was actually the real osamodas king. It wouldn’t surprise me if his own people thought his counsellor was their king because not only did WE think that way, but it was also because we learned in Season 4 that this fucking gorilla stayed in caves for long undetermined amounts of time and would hang around with THESE UGLY CRUSTY BATS WE’VE SEEN IN THESE TEN CHAPTERS while he’d be there doing god knows what with them.

This man, actually no that’s not a man. I’d be insulting them if I was insinuating he was one of them.

This fat ugly gorilla not only thinks he can just come back from a fight he already lost without any shame or awareness, but he thought he could handle TWO KINGDOMS AT THE SAME TIME WHEN HE WASN’T EVEN PERSONALLY TAKING CARE OF HIS OWN TO BEGIN WITH.

We don’t even know why he’s been in the caves on his own for so long but it sure as hell couldn’t have been more important than taking care of A FUCKING NATION, YOU FUCKING IDIOTIC CUNT-

I was so ecstatic when I saw that panel cuz not only did that mean I was going to see more prolonged pummelling, but it also means I get to see Aurora act like a total dumbfuck more.

Ew.

By the way, I love how @articwolfclawartist noticed the parallels with the choking here.

Amalia then commits animal abuse and that’s how these two ended up on the ground looking like disheveled and panting losers.

So Amalia not only beats AN OSAMODAS PRINCESS but also AN OSAMODAS KING AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME.

Must be embarrassing for the osamodas king above all. This fat gorilla is much older, more experienced than Aurora, and has been a king for a long time even before Amalia and Aurora were even born.

And who did he lose to?

To a young Sadida princess who became queen just a few months ago.

The fight hadn’t even lasted 30 minutes and he already lost by forfeiting the battle when he realized he and his trophy daughter had been cornered by sadida bomb dolls.

I repeat.

This “man”, who was king for decades, lost a deadly battle against a princess who became queen a few months ago.

He is such a fucking clown and so are all his offsprings cuz my god he has so many.

….she’s incredibly slow what the fuck.

I bet my whole bank account that the entire iop race can skillfully determine when their opponent wants to kill them better than Aurora.

Aurora: “ShE…sHe’S rEAlLy tRYinG To KiLl uS…”

Aurora a second ago: “I’d rather die than run away from that little brat…”

@pinkysgallery summarized it perfectly here.

And just like animals being hunted in the wild, Amalia corners them with freaking bomb dolls and makes these two look terrified as shit. Good. Their fears make me ecstatically happy.

But AURORA has the fucking nerve to speak again and make her look even more braindead than she already was.

I have so many things to say about this moment:

1) What is bitch talking about? This is the shit she can come up with? “ShOrt TeMpErEd”??? You guys didn’t even talk during the fight so how was she short-tempered if she didn’t speak about anything that would have made her look short-tempered???

2) Aurora is a fucking hypocrite but she’s such a hypocrite that she can’t connect the dots and realize how slow she looks when she quickly snapped just for seeing a female sadida servant being scared of her crusty bat, a male Sadida and a female eliatrope getting married, and knowing that she couldn’t fight Amalia so she still went on and tried doing that and expectedly failed miserably.

3) Contradicted to what??????? What is the chicken yapping about????

I believe she took her worthless manipulation “skill” from her dad. If you pay attention to her ugly chicken claws in the panel above, it’s shaking meaning that she’s genuinely scared of Amalia when she FINALLY learned that the boss-ass queen was trying to kill her.

See, here’s the thing I don’t get.

Sure, the osamodas king did not poison Yugo because we see who it was later on after the osamodas king’s interaction with Amalia ends.

But, here he is again telling Amalia she has no place IN HER FUCKING HOME ANYMORE.

According to who??? Who said she doesn’t belong here??? You??? The fucking outsider??? The king to ANOTHER FUCKING KINGDOM???

Oh yeah, right. You don’t rule your own kingdom that’s true. Your fucking counsellor does your job for you so that you can chill with some ugly crusty bats in caves and probably fuck them too while you’re at it.

He just said that she shouldn’t have hurt her nephew but bitch, if she’s his nephew, that then technically means she has to stay in her kingdom to teach him the Sadida way cuz he’s technically gonna be the future Sadida king. Literally what the fuck????

Ever since these two loser clowns came, they told her she had to leave but why????? When Armand got married to Aurora, Amalia stayed and there were no objections. So why is it a problem now??? If anything, now is the best time for her to stay cuz she’s the only one in the royal Sadida family who’s left and can teach her nephew the Sadida culture.

These people treat kingdoms so badly and have poor organisation to the point that the osamodas king had to be replaced by his fucking counsellor.

Fucking kill me already.

I don’t believe Amalia will receive any severe consequences. If she was ever interrogated and she told them the story from her perspective, these two bozos would look extremely suspicious. Cuz from Amalia’s pov, this is what she could say: “I was having a normal day, these two show up and demand the thrown and tell me to leave and on the very same day, my husband gets poisoned so I attack them and fight them. The fight hasn’t lasted 30 minutes and they easily leave.”

Also from who is she going to get any kind of consequence??

The other rulers??? They wouldn’t dare do anything when Yugo’s acting so unhinged right now.

From Gorilla and Chicken’s “family”??? They are so many, I’m pretty sure one of them wouldn’t mind taking the osamodas throne if it means taking the side of Amalia.

Sure, Amalia will learn that Gorilla and Chicken weren’t actually responsible for Yugo’s poisoning but do you really think she’d still give them her position after knowing they weren’t guilty? Hell no.

This fight meant more than just punishing them for thinking they had committed a crime. This fight also meant the beginning of her separation from the osamodas. For too long she had been forced to get used to them around her when Armand was alive but now she’s queen and gets to finally decide to cut them off for good.

In a way, this is also ironic. Gorilla and Chicken were expecting to cut off Amalia from her kingdom and yet here she is cutting them off from what they thought would be theirs if they just yapped and acted like fake responsible royals.

YEAH FUCKING KICK THEM OUT MAKE THEM WISH THEY WERE NEVER HERE ‼️‼️‼️‼️

I’m so happy she finally fucking beat the shit out of them so that they can FINALLY learn that they have no place here.

YOU BLUE-SKINNED DEVILS HAVE NO PLACE WITH THE SADIDAS GO BACK TO YOUR OWN COUNTRY ‼️‼️

Man, they’re such racists too cuz they realized the eliatropes stayed here, can you believe that? The audacity.

I’m just pissed that she didn’t kill them off though. They might come back for whatever fucking reason which infuriates me to no end cuz like…how the fuck do you come back after getting your ass beat the fuck out by one person when you had someone with you???

I swear if they come back wearing a smirk, I’m eating raw chicken and gorilla brain on the same day.

Fuck these people and fuck anyone who thinks they’re good antagonists. These shitheads gave me a daily migraine during the first volume and I’m so fucking glad they’re not acting like they’re the shit right now.

Look at them running away with their tails between their legs.

THIS IS THE SECOND FUCKING TIME THEY RAN AWAY WTF

If they think they’re royals and can take care of a kingdom, then why the fuck do they run away constantly???

Can you imagine having them as your king and princess? I’d rather die cuz I might as well vanish from the face of the earth if I was a sadida while being aware that these two animals would rule my kingdom.

I bet that the simple inconvenience that could impact the sadida kingdom would make them run away. If that happens, I wanna know what’s Aurora’s excuse this time.

The two people who shouldn’t have interacted so much in the necrome war were Eva and Armand. Eva was able to fight while handling two hyperactive children, and Armand was a fucking king and yet he was fighting on the first line of the battlefield.

Plenty of people, myself included, focused on Aurora leaving during the necrome war but now that I keep thinking about it more, the osamodas king was a bigger deal because he DID NOT have a reason to tell Aurora to run before running first.

If anything, because of the gorilla hanging around in caves and Aurora doing god knows what when Armand used to do his royal job, these two goobers are just royal cosplayers.

Literally. They’re just royal cosplayers.

Gorilla doesn’t do anything besides hanging in caves and Chicken just stands around.

I want you to know how big of a deal this is.

This is serious to think about cuz why the fuck WOULD ANYONE ENTRUST ANYTHING TO THESE CUNTS?????

Anyway, now that we’re done with whatever kind of circus that was, we go back to Yugo and Adamaï trying to balance the poison.

Yugo stop stressing me out with your words.

I know you’re not thinking straight right now and you’re having trouble thinking optimistically in a time like this, but YOU’RE THE SAME PERSON WHO KEEPS SAYING THAT THERE’S ALWAYS A SOLUTION TO EVERYTHING.

You’re gonna be fine AND you’ll find a way to get rid of the poison. You’ve got six Dofus, which can turn any demigod, and mortal, into a god! I’m pretty sure a deadly poison has got nothing on you if you’ve got these artifacts with you.

You’ll be fine (I’m definitely not trying to calm myself down rn)

Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…

The mysterious dragon and the female sadida servant were accomplices all along.

Not gonna lie, I seriously thought the Gorilla and Chicken hired this sadida servant for sharing the same hatred towards Yugo and Amalia, but now that I learned I was wrong, I have to keep reminding myself that the blue-skinned “royals” should not be taken seriously but should be treated like NPCs instead.

What flabbergasted me at this moment, however, was the reveal.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the female sadida servant wasn’t real. Instead, it was just a disguise. The actual culprit was…

Julith.

Freaking Julith.

She had been ordered by the dragon to poison these two which ended up making Yugo drink it alone instead. @onyichii once theorized, back when chapters 7-8 came out, that the female sadida servant in question could have been Julith and they ended up ACTUALLY BEING RIGHT.

Hi daddy 🥰💕 help me instead 🥰🥰

It was Grougalorasalar guys….

I-

I really thought the mysterious dragon in the dream was Draconiros…

Ever since Chapter 1 came out, I went on a legitimate rant/theory explaining why it would make a thousand times more sense that it was Draconiros and not Grougalorasalar.

Last time I checked, both dragons were the best choice for this theory but I was still shocked that it was the black dragon all this time. I was mainly surprised because Grougalorasalar had been part of Ogrest’s chaos when he was fighting Yugo and Dally back in the ovas which would be weird if he was the same dragon who traumatized Yugo in his sleep for unintentionally causing chaos around the world.

Not to mention that he’s smirking here almost like he’s enjoying the sight of Yugo suffering like this. Now yes, he technically hates Yugo so it would make sense to see that he’s enjoying his pain but then why did he tell Julith that they’ll put a traumatized Yugo and a confused Adamaï out of their misery if he’s now saying this? :

“We’ll talk about it later” ???

What do you mean by that?

When the poison didn’t fully do its job due to the six Dofus in his body, didn’t you just come out in the open to kill Yugo once and for all? Why then tell him that “we’ll talk about it later”?

This makes me wonder if there’s more to this poisoning than we’ve been let on.

Because there’s a possibility that since Grougalorasalar noticed the poison hasn’t entirely worked, maybe he’ll try something else or severe the effects of the poison by moving Yugo and Adamaï away from the Sadida kingdom right now.

mom come pick me up

Grougalorasalar is weird. Not in a bad way but not in a good way either.

He’s just weirdly weird? Does that make any sense?

At first, when I read chapter 10 for the first time, I thought Grougalorasalar being the one responsible for the poison wouldn’t have made sense until @kerubimcrepin explained how black dragons tend to be more inclined to cause chaos.

So I guess it would make sense why he’d be perfectly fine prolonging Yugo’s suffering if it meant it could slowly kill him? But then again, we have no idea if the belladone is even deadly enough to kill Yugo because he’s still breathing. The belladone poison should’ve killed him instantly so maybe the poison is only effective enough to severely injure Yugo but nothing more than that.

Man, I hate that it ended on a huge cliffhanger like that cuz how is Yugo supposed to get out of this one and how will they all react when they find out it was Grougalorasalar and Julith who tried poisoning them?

Do people know that Julith was supposed to be dead? Amalia knows her world of twelve history pretty well given her royal education so maybe she learned of Julith’s death in one of her classes teaching her about the Dofus era when she was younger.

Either way, it doesn’t matter.

Yugo, Adamaï, and Amalia will all be shocked as all hell in the 2nd volume.

My god, I already need it so badly I can’t wait anymore…

I’m scared and I don’t wanna throw up when I see what’s next for them…