#bob has the patience of a saint

[bisexual-ashe]

elizabeth caledonia ashe is rotting my brain

[druidrot]

so i was looking at the other parts of the ways to show emotion prompt list and part 3 has some great lists so i was hoping you could do “opening mouth slightly” pupils dilating” and “licking lips” with Gale from the how to show desire prompts 👀👀 no worries if not, congrats on the new blog!

thanks so much! and thanks for being my first requester! i’m happy to oblige. now i’m posting on mobile so i apologize if the formatting is wonky. with that being said, enjoy!

just a short little drabble, unsure of word count

pairing: gale dekarios x reader

rating: mature - more suggestive than anything else;)

he’s allowed to have fun at the tiefling party okay?? just let me have this. i get it’s canon divergent just shut up and let me be horny

It was here Gale felt his resolve crumble.

He prides himself on his self-control. In fact, he thinks he’s been a saint since he joined your adventuring party, since this painfully slow dance started between you both.

But he feels his patience waring thin. The tiefling party at the camp has no doubt been a success. He waited patiently as you did your rounds accepting their gifts and thanks so very graciously. He bid his time as you danced and sung and drank with everybody else, working your sweet charm on them.

He knows better, though. He thinks you are a different person under the cover of moonlight, here where you stare up at him with half-lidded, glassy eyes, lips pulled up in the sweetest little smile. You still hold your chalice of wine but your free hand has taken to his, twirling your fingers around his long, narrow digits. He feels his mouth drop open as you take a step closer, your pupils dilating until the beautiful color of your iris is all but hidden.

Around you, the little celebration rages on. In the distance, you can hear Karlach whooping over some drinking game the rowdier of the bunch had taken to playing. Just down the camp from you, Alfira sings a lovely ballad of lover’s lost, Lakrissa bobbing her head from a few paces down.

Gale should be excited about the festivities, elated with the things your party accomplished, ready to drink his troubles away for the night. Instead, he finds himself totally enamored with you., eyes locked on your every movement. He doesn’t know when you became so intoxicating to him, but in this moment, he finds he can’t complain.

“You look like the tressym got your tongue,” you whisper, sidling even closer. “My my, have you been brooding here because I’ve not paid you any attention? Or is saving poor helpless refugees not really your speed?”

You bump your nose against his as your tongue wets your lips. His eyes are immediately drawn to the action and he has to physically fight the urge to rush forward and kiss you. Instead, he grins roguishly at you.

“Quite the rotten little minx, you are,” he teases. taking a step back to cool his body. “Go enjoy yourself, darling. Besides, I’m sure there’s quite the line to get a dance with you tonight. You’ll have plenty of time to harass me later.”

“What if I want to harass you right now? What if I want to spend all night harassing you?”

Gale feels like he’s on fire. Before either of you can really process, he pulls you into a slow, heady kiss.

“You will be the death of me,” he pants between desperate kisses. “You will be the death of us all.”

He is quick to escalate, despite his warning and his lips grow frenetic as he chases your tongue with his, pushing into your mouth with a sense of urgency you didn’t think him capable of. He pulls your body close, impossibly so, and you can do nothing but moan as he continues to kiss you.

“The orb,” Gale tries, whimpering between consuming kisses.

“Don’t blow up on me,” is your only retort, happily losing yourself to the weight of his kiss.

[philistiniphagottini]

This is to the Anon that wanted some Miquella x Reader x St. Trina fluff. Thank you for giving me an idea. I hope you like what I came up with. Sorry, I kind of self-projected in this because I needed to write some comfort but I hope you can still enjoy.

cw. fluff, slight emotional hurt, comfort, gender neutral reader, reader has long hair

“You must eat.”

St. Trina’s voice was as soft and as gentle as the breeze on a warm afternoon, the tone gracing your ears like a chime from a shimmering bell. Your gaze drifted towards her as she sat at your side, your hands folded in your lap as you tilt your head in her direction. The sweet scent of exotic fruits curled in your lungs as you took a deep breath, the tip of your tongue tingling as you stared at the delicate slice of fruit pinched between her dainty fingers. A soft smile played at the corners of her mouth as she offered you food; the patience of a saint radiating off her in waves and she waited for you to take it from her. Your eyes flickered away for a brief moment and your head naturally followed the movement. 

“Must I?” you mumbled softly, chin tucked into your chest as your head drooped. 

A soft tut was heard behind you before you felt a sharp sting prickle at the back of your scalp. You winced as a soft hiss of air whistled through your teeth, a pinch forming between your brow as the comb passing through your hair caught in a stubborn knot. Miquella quietly quelled you when you squirmed, whispering an apology as he tried to pass the ivory comb through your long hair once more. You had briefly forgotten that the kindly demigod was even sitting behind you, his touch ghosting over you and as soft as silk that you barely even felt it. 

“Be still” Miquella said, his voice like a soothing balm to your rattled mind.

The pain that throbbed in the back of your scalp slowly ebbed as Miquella gently guided your head, the comb passing through your hair once more as the knot was teased out. A small huff of air breezed past your lips as you tried to remain still, your cheeks feeling warm under their scruntising attention as you were pampered. You would be lying if you say you didn't enjoy it. But there was always this annoying little voice in the back of your mind, gnawing away at you like a persistent swarm of insects as nasty thoughts burrowed their way into your skull. Such seeds that had sprouted into deep roots were hard to upheave and you wondered why kindly Miquella and ethereal St. Trina were even wasting their precious time with someone like you. It was hard to sway the negative thoughts when in the presence of such divinity. These horrible, wretched thoughts made your stomach curdle. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. 

“Why?” you asked, your voice breaking the serene silence. 

You could feel both St. Trina’s and Miquella’s eyes on you now. It was too late now, you couldn’t simply pluck the question back out of the air and stuff it back down your throat where it belonged. Your heart stammered in your chest, your ears ringing with the wildly fluttering pulse as you picked at the dirt under your nails. Miquella started to hum a soft tune as he twisted long strands of your hair around his fingers, wisps of your hair curling between the slender digits as he started to tie them into delicate braids. It was St. Trina who spoke as she shuffled closer to your side, placing her warm hand onto your thigh as giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze. Your gaze travelled to her soft, delicate face, her lilac skin glowing underneath the warm rays of light that the Erdtree exuded, bathing the lands in rays of honeyed gold. 

“Do you think yourself unworthy of love?” she asked, delicate lashes fluttering over her round cheeks as she tipped her head towards you.

You pressed the seam of your lips together in a tight, thin line. The soft tune Miquella hummed continued to fill the void of silence as he diligently groomed your hair, weaving soft lilies of pale purple and unalloyed gold into the braids of your hair. You waited with baited breath for St. Trina to speak once more, her demeanour calm and serene like the gentle waves lapping at the ocean’s shore. A soft noise stirred in the back of her, her smile warm as he gave your leg another squeeze. 

“You are worthy of love, my dear. Never doubt that.”

You blinked owlishly in surprise as she raised her hand that held the slice of fruit, pressing it to your lips before you could speak the words that lay heavy on your tongue. You could taste the sweetness of the ripe fruit on the shape of your mouth as St. Trina coaxed you into taking a bite. 

“Eat” she gently encouraged.

She pursed her lips together and with a small huff of air puffed from your nostrils you mimicked her, lips parting as you finally plucked the food from her grasp. Her eyes shimmered with delight as you quietly chewed, mind already distracted by the sweet taste dancing along your tongue. You silently pondered on her words, repeating them over and over like a mantra in your head. You stirred from your thoughts as Miquella tied the last section of hair, the long braid sweeping over your shoulder as it gently swayed in the breeze. You welcomed his embrace as his arms circled around you, his chin hooked on your shoulder as he coddled you into his arms. Your heart was beating frantically again as St. Trina was next to join the fray, sweeping you into her loving arms as you were pressed between both of their unyielding love for you. 

You could feel Miquella’s warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, lips ghosting over your cheek as he whispered in a voice as soft as silk. 

“No matter how many times you may shatter, we will always be here-”

“To pick up the pieces” St. Trina finished, lips pressed to your other cheek as she nudged her nose into the soft skin of your face. 

This world could be cruel and unkind, but perhaps with such loving souls such as Miquella and St. Trina, the world could be made a gentler place.

[lewmagoo]

cockwarming bob in front of the fireplace on a cold winter night with the light of the christmas tree reflecting off of you both. he's tracing the patterns of the branches and lights on your skin until you're squirming and he's shushing you because brats don't get anything good for christmas.

he had you snuggled against his chest, with your face tucked into the place where his shoulder met his neck. you were bare, both of you were, but the warmth of the fire was enough to keep the chill away. but it was the heat of your bodies pressed together that truly kept you warm. his cock was nestled deep within you, filling you deliciously, connecting you to him in the most intimate of ways. you’d lost track of how long you’d been like this, with his deft fingers tracing patterns over your skin. but you were growing restless, and you hoped that maybe, just maybe, he’d give in and fuck you in the way that you wanted.

but bob had the patience and resolve of a saint. he wouldn’t fuck you until he was good and ready. and for now, he was content to sit like this. it was a punishment on your part. a stressful week had resulted in you behaving like an insufferable brat, and bob never tolerated brattiness. he’d given you a good hearty set of spanks for your behavior, and you thought that was the end of it. until he informed you that he has something else up his sleeve. he wanted to sit you on his dick, but only to keep him warm. he made it clear that he wasn’t going to fuck you. and he made good on that promise.

that didn’t stop you from swiveling your hips in an attempt to get a rise out of him. you only did it once. he felt so good inside you, and you just wanted to chase more of that pleasurable feeling. but he wasn’t having any of it. on your second attempt, two large hands grasped your hips in a stronghold, effectively rendering you still. “uh-uh,” he chided. “i told you no. brats don’t deserve to get fucked.” his tone wasn’t accusatory or harsh. it was deceptively kind, but with this air of condescension that made you shiver in his arms. “now be a good girl and hold still. you aren’t finished until i say so.”

[callsignfangs]

141 boys as gamers. Yep.

Price:

• Totally the rager.

• Insists the games are stupid and he couldn’t care less about them, he had important work, afterall

• Has to get a new controller/keyboard every few weeks and has multiple controller-sized holes in his walls. Probably even broken a couple mics unintentionally.

• Still plays almost exclusively competitive multiplayer games, tho. Might occasionally dip his toes into horror, challenge, and even collection-based games.

• Unleashes every foul word in his nasty vocab on anyone he dislikes in a game (probably had his mic taken away /j)

Ghost:

• Patience of a saint.

• Tells everyone he doesn’t care about gaming, and tbf he probably cares the least out of the four

• Probably played getting over it with a straight face for funsies

• Also needs to get new equipment often, but just because this dude manhandles it to hell.

• Picks games at random. Probably by the steam homepage. Maybe by requests/recommendations. Does tend to prefer open-world and sci-fi games, though. Also has a very intricate minecraft world he’s spent hundreds of hours on.

Gaz:

• Chaotic as shit

• Always looking for secrets and manages to practically destroy half his game files. He goes looking for an extra coin he missed in a hard to reach cubby two stages back and ends up glitching through the floor twice, skipping three bosses and deletes the save file all in the span of maybe five minutes

• Mans will absolutely feast on any game with decent lore, but actually prefers cosier games like unpacking, minecraft, stardew valley (heavy on stardew). Will happily explore adventure/exploration type games, as well.

• Sits in the weirdest positions when gaming. Mate has both legs straddling the monitor and has folded himself in half like a fleshy garden chair, managing to somehow play the game upside down with maybe a sliver of screen /j

Soap:

• Can’t take shite seriously. Imagine like. A stream with markiplier, wade and ethan as one person. (Gaz is his bob /j)

• Mostly horror games, probably.

• Has gotten banned from multiple platforms bc of this mans OUTRAGEOUS swearing. He pulls out multiple languages, from Scottish to, like, Arabic (ty Farah 😇)

• Speaking of, I think he’s learning a couple of languages. This was bc he accidentally came across a game he really wanted to play that hadn’t been translated to English, so he started learning bits to play it, then he realised he actually really enjoyed learning languages and opening up new opportunities to interact with both games and fans :]

• Most in tune (besides maybe Gaz) with the slang and references his fans make. I like to imagine him saying ‘the girls are fighting’ whenever there’s any fights in a game giggle.

• Has fallen asleep on stream multiple times. Like, he decides to do a gaming marathon and straight up falls asleep in the middle of it. Also if this man doesn’t go to bed at, like, exactly 8pm he will fall asleep right then and there. He’s an old man at heart.

• Makes the stupidest faces. A plot twist had his jaw absolutely snapping to the floor, eyebrows peeking over the clouds and hands on his head. I bet he’s done it so much his jaw clicks.

—

Sosoooo, hey. Im alive 😇😇 Sorry for randomly vanishing, ive had a bunch of personal stuff to deal with and honestly my motivation died a little. I pinky promise im working on asks n stuff 😚 I might stick to more hc-y posts for a bit just to like. get accustomed to everything again. So yaya 😚

[redfurrycat]

White Collar and Top Gun Fusion

Special Agent for the FBI in the white-collar crimes division Bradley Bradshaw once arrested white-collar criminal Jake Seresin, alias the Hangman.

The Hangman is a charming and sophisticated con artist known as such because he cockily leaves a hangman game on each crime scene (leading to his next theft). However, Agent Bradshaw cracks his hangman code which has allowed him to finally capture the elusive criminal.

(Un)fortunately, his criminal talents in counterfeiting are coveted by the white-collar crimes division. The FBI IceBoss Tom Kazansky strikes a deal with him: serving his remaining four-year sentence as an anklet-wearing consultant to the FBI. Seresin accepts the deal as long as he gets Agent Bradshaw as his handler. (What? The guy has brains and is sweet on the eye –his moustache notwithstanding–, and he likes ‘hem smart and pretty.)

Agent Bradshaw has no choice but to obey his bossdad. He’s thus now working with the infuriating, cunning, and not at all appealing criminal alongside his newly formed white-collar team –Agents Natasha Trace and Bob Floyd. The team has a particularly high solved-cases rate, mainly due to the duo très spécial working together.

FBI consultant Jake Seresin has the time of his life: he lives in a beautiful and richly decorated house with Penny Benjamin, the charming landlady; he wears her late husband’s styled suits and hats; he finds his criminal and genius best friend Javy Machado again and often asks him for help in various FBI cases…

About that…He is surprised how much he likes using his devilishly almost-too-good-to-be-true talents (‘ugh’, says Bradley, every single time) for the other side of the law. His colleagues Trace and Floyd are really nice too: he banters with Phoenix like he would his own sister, and fondly annoys Bob like he would a little brother.

He expects even less to fall for Agent Bradshaw. Bradley. The Hawaiian-shirt-wearing and by-the-book special agent appears to be a little grumpy on the outside, especially with him, but Jake is trying to shatter Bradley’s walls, and he will succeed eventually. They have numerous evening talks during which they share personal details, and pretty much bicker about every possible subject.

Jake also meets the IceBoss’ trophy wife and Bradley’s godfather, Pete (‘Call me Maverick’) Mitchell. Maverick is a mechanic and an engineer, and he does some consultant work when the FBI needs his expertise. These two become thick as thieves, as they have similar minds, and Maverick often invites Jake for dinner (Bradley whines ‘Mav, whyyyyyyyyy?!’ meanwhile Ice is questioning his husband’s –matchmaking–motives…‘Trust me IceBaby, I know what I’m doing.’)

It is Mav who convinces Jake to go for it, because his oblivious godson would never act on his feelings, he’s too cautious (‘Ah. The snug-on-his-perch type’…..‘Well, yeah, but he has his reasons.’). However, Mav is sure he likes Jake because Ice has told him Bradley often comes in his office to rant about Hangman (‘Ice, he’s yet again charming such and such, he’s unprofessional!’… Also Ice has the patience of a saint).

Thus Jake begins wooing Bradley à la Hangman: he leaves him complimentary notes disguised as hangman games on his desk, he delivers perfect art forgeries in Bradley’s effigy (paintings, sculptures, drawings,…) at his home –Bradley’s both scandalised and reluctantly charmed– and, on one memorable occasion, Bradley’s gifted a Carrara-marbled, life-sized and very much naked statue of Jake. He stays speechless for an abnormal amount of time and can’t look Jake in the eye (héhé) for some time. He’ll deny it, but Bradley keeps the statue. Of course, he keeps the statue! Finally, Jake’s last and most romantic move is to offer Bradley a piano he's personally restored! It’s the final straw for Bradley: he jumps him so hard his neighbours call the police to report *suspicious* noise.

[After their “strenuous” activities, Jake asks Bradley if he has succeeded in accomplishing his most spectacular heist.

Bradley: And what would that be?

Jake: Have I finally succeeded in stealing your heart?

Bradley: For a seductive bastard, you are ridiculously corny sometimes…but if you must know. Yeah, you did.]

Once they get their act together, Bradley feels comfortable enough to do some wooing of his own: he serenades Jake with skillful renditions of 'Smooth Criminal' on the piano as well as old romantic ballads.

[stardust-walker]

For Cryin Out Loud

Eddie is having a bad day so Steve comes home and takes care of him. They take a bath together and end up fooling around because they're 2 idiots in love. Part of my little Hard of Hearing/Deaf Steve little one-shot I wrote that is apparently growing a mind of it's own and turning into a little series of one shots!

There may be minor typos but I haven't posted this on AO3 yet but it's been sitting in my word docs for a solid month so enjoy!

rated: E

cw: smut!! my first time really writing anything bc these boys changed my whole brain chemistry i swear 2 u

border by cafekitsune!

Steve has a feeling that it hasn’t been a good day when he walks in and he doesn’t see Eddie, but he can hear the music playing from the bathroom. The music gets louder as Steve walks through the door and calls out a greeting, almost like Eddie is cranking the music for him too. Steve can recite the opening lines to You Took The Words Right Out of My Mouth from memory at this point and he thinks Eddie must be doing the same thing in the bathtub upstairs. 

Eddie had bitched up a storm at first but Steve reminded him more than enough times that it was a gift and he couldn’t be an asshole about it. He tries to listen a little closer as he mills around the kitchen cutting up fruit and gathering snacks to bring up with him. The song comes to a close as he starts back towards the hallway with his hands full of a peace offering. And yep there it is. The mixtape starts over after a few minutes of silence in which Eddie must have been rewinding the tape. He wonders how long Eddie’s been up there. Probably since Robin left for work a little over an hour ago if he had to venture a guess. Steve moves a little faster as he hums along to For Cryin Out Loud. 

~

“You know, Meat Loaf really knew what he was talking about with this one,” Eddie had said one of the first times they listened to it together. The song had hit the 5-minute mark and Eddie was bobbing his head to the music. Steve just watched him, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, totally,” Eddie’s smile was infectious and Steve felt like he was going to orbit another planet. He practically melted when Eddie leaned in to kiss him just as Meat Loaf continued to sing about how of course he loved whoever he was singing to. It was like Eddie himself was screaming it from the rooftops. So when Steve decided to make Eddie a mixtape, it was no surprise that was the first song he put on there.

~

Gareth had caught Eddie listening to the mixtape once. More like he’d gotten into the car with him and stared in horror at the radio before declaring that Eddie was some sort of saint for listening to Guns n’ Roses. At least according to Eddie, but Steve had just smiled and pointed out that he’d caught him strumming the opening notes to Patience more than a few times. 

Steve couldn’t help but think the song was a little close to home for him. He climbed the last few stairs and he could hear Eddie singing the chorus quietly to himself. When Eddie started whistling along, Steve let out a laugh.

“Steve?” The water splashes slightly. Eddie must have sat up in the bath.

“Yeah,” he calls out before he enters the bathroom and leans against the doorway. Eddie reaches out to turn down the stereo with wrinkled fingers and Steve couldn’t stop the fond smile from creeping onto his face. 

 Eddie eyes the plate of fruit with hungry eyes before his gaze shifts back to Steve. “Is that for me?”

“I was thinking we could share actually unless you’re feeling greedy.” He crosses the room and sets the plate down on the closed toilet lid. Steve wrinkles his nose in concentration as he slowly kneels down next to the tub. In the background, Tom Petty is starting to sing about some girl who loves Elvis. “Hey,” he whispers as he brushes the hair out of Eddie’s eyes. They’re a little swollen and Steve frowns. “Bad day?” 

Eddie shrugs and lets out a shaky breath. “Kind of.” He runs a hand over the surface of the water as he looks away. Steve doesn’t push it. He could easily say that the incident during spring break was 3 years ago. Vecna’s been dead for 2. But he gets it; none of them will probably really be over it. A lot of them bear the scars and the damage from it still, Eddie included. Steve notices how some days it’s harder than others for Eddie to get out of bed in the morning. Instead of saying anything, he leans in and brushes his lips over Eddie’s cheek. Eddie sighs and when Steve pulls back, the other man’s eyes have fluttered shut.

“Do you want me to get in?”

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice cracks. He opens his eyes and they stare at each other for a second. Eddie’s big brown eyes make him look even more open and vulnerable as he scoots back against the wall. “Sit in front of me though. I want us to look at each other.” 

Steve nods because who is he to not give Eddie what he wants? Eddie drums on the side of the tub as Steve rises to his feet and starts to shed his clothes. He can see Eddie in the mirror as he rests his cheek on his arm to get more comfortable looking at him. His heart swells. Eddie is mouthing the words to the next song as it starts and Steve thinks about how Eddie bitched when Steve begged him to buy the newest album from The Cure. Steve had tried not to cry the first time he heard Lovesong. Seeing Eddie mouthing the words at him makes him feel totally different. But still, he tries to control himself because Eddie is having a bad day. As much as they both might want it, he’s pretty sure that fucking in the bath isn’t going to work out anyway.

Steve takes his hearing aid out and takes a moment to adjust to the slightly more muffled sounds around him. Steve’s half-hard just from the weight of Eddie’s staring at him. He pulls his underwear off and places them with the rest of his clothes before he turns to face the tub. 

Eddie’s face lights up in a way that makes Steve laugh. “Hey, gorgeous.” He leans back and wrinkles his nose as he moves his leg to make room. Steve lowers himself into the tub which is pretty warm still. Eddie probably filled it up again while he was downstairs.

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” he winks. Eddie laughs. Steve is so fucking in love with him that it hurts. “Did you actually wash your hair or were you just half underwater?”

“Hm,” Eddie hums as he slides lower into the water. “I plead the fifth.” He sighs as the water reaches the middle of his chest. 

“You’re so gross,” he rolls his eyes and dodges the small splash of water sent his way. “I was going to offer to wash it for you but now I don’t want to.”

Eddie pouts. “Only if you want to.” The unspoken fear of being a burden is still there and Steve gets it. He really does. So he motions for Eddie to sit up and move closer before he reaches behind him for the shampoo. Eddie winces as he bends his knee a little too fast. “You’re too good to me.” 

Steve is faintly aware of the fact that Dio starts playing and it’s one of Eddie’s favorites. Naturally.

“No, I’m not. Now shut up and close your eyes.”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie smirks as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back slightly, baring his neck to Steve. He ghosts his fingers over the scar on his neck. They match and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be over it. Eddie shivers slightly as he leans in and presses a kiss right to the center of his throat before he starts on washing his hair. It’s hard to gauge how gentle is the right amount when it’s not your hair but he tries his best. Skillful fingers comb the knots from Eddie’s hair as he relaxes, eyes only squeezing shut tighter when it’s time to rinse the suds out. 

Steve cups the other man’s scarred cheek in his hand when he’s done and Eddie’s eyes flutter open. “There he is,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles as he leans in, his hands settling on his boyfriend’s biceps and there’s something heavier about his gaze now. “You’re really something else, you know.” 

Part of Steve feels bad for the fact that he kind of likes the days that are like this. It’s a bad day but he can still bring Eddie back from it. They can take their time and take care of each other in whatever way they need to. Sometimes it’s just cuddling and talking about it. Sometimes Eddie doesn’t want to talk at all or Steve can’t bring himself to put in his hearing aids and connect with the world. They just deal with whatever they need.

Eddie licks his lips. Steve watches as the water drips down from his bangs and slides down the side of his face before it stops right on his cupid’s bow. He’s pretty sure it’s shit like this that Warrant is singing about in Heaven because Jesus fuck it’s insane.

Steve ducks in, nose bumping against Eddie’s as he does, and when he kisses him, their teeth click. Eddie’s smiling and it’s like a switch flips in his head. Eddie sighs against Steve’s lips as his wet hands slide up his arms to grip his shoulders. He knows they shouldn’t do anything, at least not here. He just can’t bring himself to do anything to stop it when Eddie slides forward almost into his lap. Steve groans as Eddie nibbles at his bottom lip. His hips buck up slightly and Eddie yelps as Steve slides backward an inch. 

They pull apart and Steve stares at Eddie: his pupils are blown wide and his freshly washed hair starting to curl already and he can’t take it anymore. “Let’s go to bed” Eddie leans in and whispers. Christine McVie is singing through the speakers about how she’d be with someone anywhere and everywhere. He fucking gets it and he’ll scream it from the rooftops one day.

He’s gentle when he helps Eddie out of the tub and towel dries his hair. Their hands wander and the only other sound in the room aside from the music is Eddie’s quiet singing and the occasional gasp or laugh. They leave the music blaring as they hurry down the hall. When Eddie lays on the bed and motions for him to follow, Steve thinks that one day he’ll kiss every fucking scar that the Upside Down left on him if he hasn’t already. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice and they’re both laughing as Steve kisses his way up Eddie’s left side. He takes special care to kiss as much of his scarred-up chest as he can. Eddie sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Steve,” he whispers in a way that makes all the pistons in his brain fire. “Stevie, come on.” 

Right now is about Eddie, so he starts moving again. Licking and kissing and biting his way up his lover’s neck and he’s already starting to fall apart just a little. Steve curses himself for not putting his hearing aid back in. Now he’s missing out on every little sound Eddie makes even though he has them committed to memory by now. Steve plants a hand on the bed on either side of the man as he pulls away. Eddie’s hair is splayed out on the pillow like a halo and Steve swallows hard as he tries to burn the sight into his brain. There’s a part of him that wants to see it every time he closes his eyes because there can’t be anything better than that.

“What do you want,” he whispers as he eyes the man beneath him with hungry eyes. 

“You.” Eddie grins up at him. Steve grins right back as he presses himself down onto him. Eddie groans and Steve crashes their lips together and swallows the sound right up. Eddie slips his tongue into his mouth. Steve trembles a little as a hand slides down his back, fingers tracing down his spine in a feather-light touch. The fingers on Eddie’s other hand wind into his hair and Steve lets out a groan that mirrors Eddie’s own. It’s like a feedback loop.

They’re barely touching each other. Just grinding against each other and only breaking away to breathe until Steve sits up enough to feel around on the bedside table until he snatches up the lube. Eddie’s dick twitches in interest and yeah. He’ll give him whatever the fuck he wants whenever he asks. Within reason. So sue him. The way that Eddie’s big brown eyes stay focused on him as he flips the cap and pours lube onto his fingers is enough to make him crazy.

“This okay?”

His bangs flop in front of his eyes with how fast he nods his head. He parts his legs almost like it’s an instinct by now as Steve moves to kneel between his knees. Steve watches just as closely and he feels his breath catch when Eddie starts to melt under his touch. It’s just one finger circling his rim at first and Eddie pulls his legs in tighter as he sighs. By the time Steve has two fingers inside of him, Eddie is panting quietly. Steve curls his fingers and he hits that spot that he knows has Eddie seeing fireworks. He can’t stop himself from kissing his way up his chest again, fingers still moving inside of him.

When he’s close enough, Eddie grips him by the hair and tugs him up gently. He crashes their lips together with an intensity that leaves Steve gasping. Eddie’s all over him. All-encompassing as their mouths move together and they breathe each other in. Eddie’s thighs are trembling as they wrap around Steve’s waist. Steve pulls his fingers out of him slowly.

 Then there’s so little space between them that neither of them can reach down and wrap a hand around both of them to jerk off. That might be what Eddie wants, but Steve thinks it’s close enough as he breaks the kiss only to latch onto the soft skin of his neck. Eddie’s voice is muffled and Steve lets out a confused sound as he gets shoved back by a palm to the forehead. “Wrong side,” Eddie sighs before he guides Steve to the other side of his neck and Jesus Christ he likes this angle a lot better. It’s like Eddie realizes what he needs. The hand that guided him moves to the back of his hair and the other cradles the side of his face like he’s something precious. 

Steve’s hips jerk and Eddie hisses almost right in his ear. “Fuck yeah just like that. Come on.” The gasps and whispers guide him better than anything else as they grind against each other. They’re so close that he can feel the muscles in Eddie’s stomach start to tense up. He can hear his breathing pick up and the soft moans that start to spill out even when he’s trying to hold them back. Eddie’s close and so is he. It’s almost painful when he manages to sit up to slip a hand between them and it only takes two hard jerks for Eddie to finally break. 

He takes in everything. He always does. The way Eddie throws his head back against the pillows and his eyes roll back just a little bit before he squeezes them closed. The way he blushes red right down to the scars on his chest. It’s the way that Eddie groans out his name that sends Steve right over the edge with him. He slumps forward, trembles, and curses through his own orgasm as he buries his face in Eddie’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he pants out as he wipes his hand on the sheets. They have to do laundry anyway.

His arms feel a little like jello as he pushes himself up off of his boyfriend. Eddie smiles up fondly at him as Steve leans in to kiss him. He stops halfway there as Eddie lets out a short laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Eddie shrugs as he reaches up and brushes a stray piece of hair from Steve’s forehead. “Hi.”

The gentleness of it throws him off and he sputters. “Hi?”

Eddie laughs as he pulls him down again. “You know, I think I’m having a better day now.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he twirls a strand of Eddie’s hair between his fingers. “Oh, you don’t say?”

“Yeah, well you know. When the prettiest guy in Hawkins tries to woo you, it’s kind of hard to stay suffering.”

“Oh poor baby.”

“I think pizza would really secure the wooing,” Eddie sighs dramatically as he turns his head to pout at his boyfriend.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” Steve snorts as he pulls himself into a sitting position. 

Eddie gasps and mockingly grabs his chest. “But you love me!”

“For cryin out loud?” Steve quirks an eyebrow before he leans over to kiss Eddie on the forehead.

“And all that other shit the guy sings about.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Takes one to know one, Stevie!” 

[izayoichan]

Shelter Stories: Teddy's Christmas tales 🎶

Teddy: Okay, one of these two you already know, it's my human Liam, with Bob. As you can see, Bob is a very big horse, with an equally big heart. He came to the shelter after his previous owner died, and he is trained both to be ridden, and to pull a wagon. Off the two, pulling a wagon is his clear favorite although a slow ride on the countryside is also fun.

He has the patience of a saint, doesn't mind loud noises, or little kids screaming and running around him. He is a cuddlebug though, and as heavy as his head is, a favorite thing of his, is to lean his head muzzle on your shoulder, and just stand there relaxing with you as company.

Yep, I think Bob will fit a lot of people, so I hope that someone wants this gentle giant in their home and hearts.

[bradshawsbaby]

No cause Bob Floyd would be the perfect parent of a special needs child. Ever since he was told his child would have some either developmental or physical delays he’s doing all the research he possibly could on their diagnosis. He’s joins facebook pages and groups with other parents who are going through the same thing. He’s got the patience of a saint when it comes to raising the child and it hurts his heart to see them frustrated or upset

This exactly!!! He’s doing everything he can to be as prepared as possible before his child is born, and he has the biggest heart and all the patience in the world!!! 🥹

That said, he’s also extremely protective and isn’t afraid to go toe to toe with people who stare or make rude/ignorant comments. You don’t mess with Bob Floyd’s babies and get away with it!

Ask me about my Bob Floyd As The Father Of A Child With Special Needs Agenda™️

[pedanther]

The older translator takes the pruning shears to the poetical descriptive passages again:

«Mais où diable trouvez-vous de pareils chevaux? demanda Albert. Vous les faites donc faire exprès? —Justement, dit le comte. Il y a six ans, je trouvai en Hongrie un fameux étalon renommé pour sa vitesse; je l’achetai je ne sais plus combien: ce fut Bertuccio qui paya. Dans la même année, il eut trente-deux enfants. C’est toute cette progéniture du même père que nous allons passer en revue; ils sont tous pareils, noirs, sans une seule tache, excepté une étoile au front, car à ce privilégié du haras on a choisi des juments, comme aux pachas on choisit des favorites.

“but where the devil do you get such horses? Are they made to order?” “Precisely,” said the count; “six years since I bought a horse in Hungary remarkable for its swiftness. The thirty–two that we shall use to–night are its progeny; they are all entirely black, with the exception of a star upon the forehead.”

“Where in the world did you find such horses?” Albert asked. “Did you have them bred specially?” “Just so,” the count replied. “Six years ago, I came across a stallion in Hungary, famous for its speed. I bought it, I don’t know how much it cost; Bertuccio paid for it. In that same year, it had thirty-two offspring. We shall be able to inspect that entire generation of children from the one father. Each one is alike, black, without a single blemish except a star on the forehead: this privileged member of the stud had his mares chosen for him, like the favourites of a pasha.”

-

Dans une anse d’une certaine grandeur se balançait une petite corvette à la carène étroite, à la mâture élancée, et portant à la corne un pavillon aux armes de Monte-Cristo, armes représentant une montagne d’or posant sur une mer d’azur, avec une croix de gueules au chef, ce qui pouvait aussi bien être une allusion à son nom rappelant le Calvaire, que la passion de Notre-Seigneur a fait une montagne plus précieuse que l’or, et la croix infâme que son sang divin a faite sainte, qu’à quelque souvenir personnel de souffrance et de régénération enseveli dans la nuit du passé mystérieux de cet homme.

In a creek lay a little sloop, with a narrow keel and high masts, bearing on its flag the Monte Cristo arms which were a mountain on a sea azure, with a cross gules on the shield.

A little corvette was bobbing in a fairly large cove; it had a narrow hull and tall mast with a flag flying from the lateen yard and bearing Monte Cristo’s coat of arms: a mountain on a field azure with a cross gules at the chief, which could also have been an allusion to his name (evoking Calvary, which Our Saviour’s passion has made a mountain more precious than gold, and the infamous cross which his divine blood made holy) as much as to any personal memory of suffering and regeneration buried in the mysterious night of the man’s past.

-

... une pièce plus haute, et placée au rez-de-chaussée, était consacrée à toutes les ingénieuses machines que les Anglais, grands pêcheurs, parce qu’ils sont patients et oisifs, n’ont pas encore pu faire adopter aux routiniers pêcheurs de France.

... a lofty room on the ground–floor containing all the ingenious instruments the English—eminent in piscatory pursuits, since they are patient and sluggish—have invented for fishing.

A more lofty room on the ground floor was given over to all those ingenious devices that the English – who are great fishermen, because they have both patience and leisure – have so far not managed to persuade the more workaday fishermen of France to adopt.

-

«Vous trouverez peut-être mon départ étrange, insensé, dit le jeune homme. Vous ne comprenez pas comment quelques lignes écrites sur un journal peuvent mettre un homme au désespoir; eh bien, ajouta-t-il en lui jetant le journal, lisez ceci, mais quand je serai parti seulement, afin que vous ne voyiez pas ma rougeur.»

“You may think my departure strange and foolish,” said the young man; “you do not know how a paragraph in a newspaper may exasperate one. Read that,” said he, “when I am gone, that you may not be witness of my anger.”

“You may find my departure odd, even senseless,” he said. “You may not realize how a few lines in a newspaper can drive a man to despair. Well,” the young man added, throwing the paper to the count, “read this, but only after I have left, so that you do not see my shame.”

[roosterforme]

I saw this video on Instagram earlier and it immediately made me think of Coach Bradley and the Tiny Eagles, maybe in the early days before they got good 😂

I can just imagine Bradley and Bob being so sweet and encouraging even when things go wrong!

😂😂😂 I think Bob especially has the patience of a saint. And the last thing Bradley would want to do is make one of the kids cry. So even if it was a free for all, everyone would still be having a good time.

[luxshine]

RE-starting to watch Stranger Things. I stopped when I had issues with my health, but am back again with episode 8 of season 2.

I really don't like how they are trying to make Billy sympathetic in the last minute because I assume at minute 8 that he will be dead before minute 40, or at the end of the season.

Steve on the other hand, has evolved fully into babysitter mode. Congratulations kids, your pokemon has evolved and I can't wait what's his next stage.

Oh, Bob is so going to die isn't he? and in this episode. Because he's a nerd and he knows BASIC. He doesn't know how to use a gun and as always, in fiction they make it sound as if it's as easy as "safety off, safety on, point at the thing you want to shoot" and nope, not that easy.

Rest in Peace, Mikey from the Goonies, you deserved a lot better.

Interesting how Steve was with the kids, while Jonathan and Nancy stayed together when they got to Jonathan's house. As I said, Steve has gone through quite an evolution. Bully to Good Boyfriend to Babysitter to... what will be next? Dunno, but right now I feel like if anyone touches a hair on Dustin? Steve will meet them with a bat.

There's also the fact that of the "grown ups" he's the only one who is willing to go with Dustin's analogy of the Mind Flayer with respect, even if his grasp on DnD is non existent and his grasp on history is... not passing grade. But he tries, while the Sheriff just is annoyed and Nancy... is dismissive. When she KNOWS these kids have been right before.

Max has the patience of a saint, I swear. I'd have ditched these guys a long time ago the way they treat her.

Will is SO gay for Mike. I mean, I know enough to know this is canon, but this is the first time I actually see it in the show.

Wow. Eleven knows how to make an entrance. I will give her that.

And hey, Billy is still alive. He is still going to die, I'm sure, but I was thinking he'd die i this one stealing Bob's thunder.

[ace-angel-judas]

Have any of your ocs had really short hair? Like Amber Liu?

Other than the male ocs, yes.

Clara goes between long and short hair all the time. Her hair stylist has the patience of a saint because Clara will have long hair one day and have short hair the next day. She’s also shaved her hair off before out of nowhere.

Jinae’s known for having the short hair styles and also the weird hair styles eg: The long mullet, a long Mohawk that was blue, she debuted with an undercut, raccoon stripes?? She’s done a lot. Thankfully she stopped cutting and dying her hair during her hiatus.

Jinmi had short hair in the Phantom comeback. Like the really chic short hair style like Nara Smith. Jinmi usually has the long bob (no fringe) type of hair.

Hayoon’s debut.. short blonde hair. Everyone thought she was a boy. Enough said. She never let another person touch her hair after that.

[brother-joseph]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Miracles of the Cross in the Lives of the Saints DVD, New.

[sebsxphia]

So, I have this weird thing about my cereal okay? I have to have the ones that are covered in sugar... im just thinking about bob making breakfast and picking out the ones that aren't covered.

he would definitely do something like this 🥹 he has the patience of a saint that man! 💌

[tabernacleheart]

..."But I'm trying to do better." Have you ever said that to yourself with an issue or trait you just can’t seem to get some distance from? "I’m trying to do better." While the people around us are hoping we'll try a little harder, you know you're giving it everything you've got— even if it doesn't look like a lot. We can give ourselves the benefit of the doubt because we know God is always changing us and transforming us into people who look a little more like Jesus. He's taking the long view with us. Thank goodness for that.

[But] have you ever noticed how easy it is to give yourself some grace, but it’s a lot harder to give it to someone else who we don't think is changing fast enough? What if we gave others the benefit of the doubt we're quick to extend to ourselves? When someone snubs us or makes us feel inferior, what if we remembered they're still in the process of becoming? They're probably just as insecure as we are and just made the kind of mistake we make all the time.

Just like we’re growing out of the impatient or unkind or dogmatic or pretentious people we used to be, other people may be changing too. Give them a little grace while it happens. So when someone slips up, celebrate how far they’ve come— don't think about how long it took them to get there. [Instead of focusing on mistakes, focus on the growth despite them.] Think of someone close to you who's been going through a difficult time, [struggling but persevering]. What kind of growth have you seen in their lives lately? Share that with them today. [Sharing hopeful encouragement is an act of grace; a work of mercy, and a reflection of God's love.]

Bob Goff