#but yeah this is like under half of the full size of the actual thing to fit the tumblr limit

[silvertsundere]

Okita under a sakura by のんえる! 🌸

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: reader has a pussy and tits, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, demeaning pet names (doll, sweetheart, bitch), outdoor sex, forced proximity, toji is insufferably hot, kinda dub-con

♡ WORD COUNT: 3.5k

♡ NOTE: was so hoping I would get this one done and I did, so ha! For anyone who has been brought here by this piece, please know I do not regularly post JJK, so sorry! Enjoy reading~

This cabin is a joke. Unliveable. He shouldn’t be in a shithole like this. Toji comes from money. He’s used to living in luxury–penthouses with big screens and full bars, king-sized beds with sheets made from Egyptian cotton.

So the goddamn cot in this fucking Lincoln Logs-ass shack is frankly insulting, and if he wasn’t in hiding, he would march right into his pretentious boss’ office and give him a piece of his mind and maybe the barrel of his gun.

The only good thing about Toji’s current predicament is that he’s not alone. You are also with him, two assassins laying low in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Of course, he may as well be all by himself; it’s not as if you’re actually paying him any attention.

You’re pissed at him, acting like a little bitch because he may have almost botched a job the two of you were on. So what? The guy is still dead. Riddled with a few too many bullets, sure, but that’s neither here nor there.

At least Toji still gets to ogle you, watch you shuffle around the cabin in leggings and loose sweatshirts. No bra, either. Yeah, he’s seen the way your nipples peek out from under the material. Fucking tease. Just as tempting as the way spandex hugs your ass and, in some cases when Toji is lucky, perfectly outlines what he knows must be the prettiest little pussy.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you bite out, glaring at him from over your mug of steaming tea.

Toji smirks, spread out on the threadbare couch while you stand in the shitty kitchen about six feet away from him. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, doll.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’ve been watching me like I’m your next target. I’m getting tired of it.”

“Well, boo-fucking-hoo,” he sneers. “There’s nothing better to do in this pile of shit. May as well enjoy the view.”

You set your cup down too forcefully, liquid sloshing out from the side, then stomp over to him, leaning into his space in an oh-so tantalizing way. You’re putting yourself in a real precarious position, he thinks, smart enough to keep his mouth shut as you fume.

“You even think about putting your hands on me, and I swear I’ll turn you into a fucking Ken doll.”

Toji grins sideways. “That mean you’ll touch it?”

The force of your slap is a little jarring, he has to admit, but not at all surprising. You’ve been riled up since the two of you arrived days ago, and Toji is not doing anything to help you relax on your little getaway. The complete opposite, actually. Truthfully, he’s a little impressed that it’s taken you this long to hit him.

But, you made the first move (he loves that in a woman), so he has no choice but to retaliate, swiftly pulling you into his lap, unashamed of his now half-hard dick.

“Jesus Christ, you’re sick,” you yell, struggling in his grip, rubbing your plump little ass all over his cock. “Let go of me!”

“Keep squirmin’ like that, and I’m gonna make a mess in my pants, babygirl.”

Unlikely–he’s not some teenager who’ll cum at a little grinding–but the way your face morphs with disgust is too good. “Would you clean it up for me if I asked nicely?” he teases further, grunts when your heel comes down hard against his shin.

His grip loosens enough for you to escape his hold, and Toji mumbles a dejected, “tease,” as you shoot to the other side of the very small room.

“I will kill you right fucking here if you ever do that again,” you grit through your teeth, hands shaking where they’re balled into fists.

Toji shrugs, annoyed, unsatisfied, and throbbing in the confines of his sweats. “Try it. I’ll have you pinned faster than you can even reach your gun.”

You huff, knowing damn well he’s right. You’re good at killing; he won’t deny that.

He’s just better.

~

Toji starts playing with you more after that, seeing how many of your buttons he can press without actually facing your promised wrath.

It’s the way he stares at you, casually brushing up against you in seemingly innocent ways. He walks around shirtless, making it impossible for you to not look at him.

Really, he just takes up as much room as he possibly can, ensures that you don’t get a moment’s peace. It’s obviously affecting you. He watches you get more and more restless as the days go by. You’re both bored out of your minds with only a few channels on the fucking box television to keep you entertained.

There is literally nothing to do but sleep and fuck. Toji’s been doing a lot of both (though, he wishes it was your pussy he was fucking and not his fist in the shower).

You, however, choose walking over sex, going on long strolls around the perimeter. You say that you’re being vigilant, but Toji knows you’re just trying to get away from him.

“You know, if you’d let me, I could help you relax,” he offers one day, trying to tune out the sound of your never ending footsteps as you pace back and forth. “Seriously, you’ve gotta simmer down.”

“You realize there are several bounties out on both of us right now, right? Like, does that not bother you?”

“Not really,” he replies. “People have been wanting to kill me since I was born. This ain’t nothin’ new.”

You stop pacing and look at him, eyebrows pinched in adorable confusion. “That’s… actually kinda sad.”

“Right?” Toji agrees, pouting dramatically as he tries, “wanna help me feel better about my sad, sordid life?”

He laughs when you groan, scrubbing your hands down your face. “You just won’t fucking quit, will you?”

“Not until I get to feel your pussy squeezin—”

You cut him off, “just stop!” voice all pitchy and grating. However, the next thing out of your mouth is like music to Toji’s ears: “if I let you fuck me, will you get off my back about it?”

He lifts an eyebrow, ignoring the way his cock twitches, then lies through his teeth, ��absolutely,” because he already knows that once he’s had you, he’s gonna want you over and over and over again.

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms over your chest and grumble, “fine,” as your mouth twists downward. “But later. For now I need to be… not around you.”

“Whatever you gotta do to get ready, sweetheart. You know where to find me.”

Except Toji doesn’t stay still for long. He waits for just a few minutes, long enough for you to let your guard down. Long enough for you to get a head start. And then takes off in the same general direction that you did.

You’re nowhere in his line of sight, but you’re easy to follow especially since you don’t actually know you’re being tracked. Your boots leave trails in the brown, fallen leaves, steps echoing off every branch that surrounds you.

A chilly breeze whistles through the trees, but Toji is too hot to really feel it. You may be covered up head to toe in a flannel and tights, but you won’t be for long. Soon, he’ll strip you down, and by that time, you’ll be thankful for the wind.

You move slowly, absentmindedly, look lighter now that you think you’re alone. Your shoulders aren’t as tense, and your fingers move as if you’re rehearsing a song. Different from the high-strung little bitch he’s had to live with for the past week.

Too busy watching you, Toji isn't focused on the ground beneath his feet. The sound of a twig snapping may as well be a gunshot, and you drop into a crouch immediately, neck practically snapping as you twist to find the source: him.

You lock eyes with each other, and something must flash in his, something dangerous—something hungry. He stays still, watching you watch him. Assessing. Registering him as the threat that he is.

“You gonna run from me?” he taunts, and you answer by doing exactly that, taking off at a sprint.

It makes Toji’s blood race in a way he’s only experienced when holding a weapon, when spattered with blood. It’s the rush he feels when he’s holding someone’s life in the palm of his hand.

He hurries after you, not quite at his full speed—that would end this too quickly—but fast enough to keep his heart pumping, quick and heavy where it rattles in his ribcage.

You veer left and he follows, giving you enough space to make you feel like you just might outpace him, that maybe you’ll get somewhere safe.

Boots slipping on the foliage underfoot, you careen forward only to catch yourself on your hands and push forward like a track star. Toji is locked on to your every movement now, the pump of your legs and arms, the way your hair whips around your face, the panicked little noises that slip from your mouth that you think he can’t hear.

Oh, but he can. He hears and sees it all, and he wants it. He wants you.

You have no fucking idea how cute you are like this, eyes widening when you chance a glance over your shoulder to find him gaining on you.

A high pitched shriek, and then he sees it—the ghost of a smile, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of your chest.

Toji feels his face split into a manic grin, desire coursing through his veins, clogging his arteries, making his mouth water and his dick twitch. When he gets his hands on you���

“You havin’ fun?” he calls from behind you, blessed with another look from you, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of him, and it’s that curiosity that cuts this little game short.

You trip over a root and go down hard this time, grunt when all the air is pushed from your lungs. He doesn’t give you the chance to get back up, just puts his foot in the middle of your back to keep you in place.

Toji clicks his tongue in an admonishing tsk, presses down on you with a little more weight when you start to wiggle.

“I see why you’re so scared about those bounties,” he muses, “you’re way too fuckin’ easy to track down.”

“I wasn’t—hh—” he pushes harder just for the fun of it and is rewarded with a little squeak of desperation. “—wasn’t trying to hide.”

“No?” Toji removes his foot only to lower himself, squatting over you as he slinks a hand around your neck and tugs you toward him so that your back bends into a painful arch. “Why’s that?”

“Fuck you,” you manage to gasp, your fingers curling into the dirt, feet scrambling for traction to relieve some of the pressure he’s putting on your spine.

He laughs darkly, “you wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? This your idea of foreplay?”

Without letting you answer, he lets go of you and flips you over, takes in the sight of your heaving chest and the wild look in your eyes.

“Tell me, doll, did that get your pussy wet?” He reaches between your legs, rubs your mound through your tights and smirks at how much heat is radiating from your core.

“Not so much fight in you now, is there?” he teases, licking his lips when you rub yourself against his palm.

“Would you just… nng fuck—just get on with it,” you grit.

“Get on with what?”

“Just fuck me!” you plead. It comes off as a demand, but Toji knows better, appreciates the position you’re in. You’re nothing but a scared dog, snapping at a hand that’s only trying to feed you.

“Right here?” he questions in fake surprise, “in the woods? Dirty girl.”

“Toji, I swear to God—”

He shuts you up with a harsh kiss, the kind that bruises, leaves lips split, swollen, and slick with spit. The kind of kiss that makes you chase him after he’s pulled away.

“You talk too much,” he states plainly, and all you do is slowly blink at him.

Yeah, he’s got you now. You’re fucking hooked, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

He’s nearly fully hard, grinds his cock against your stomach so that you can feel what you’ve gotten yourself into. You whimper and roll your hips, baiting him further, but he doesn’t go for it. Not yet.

Instead he sits back on his knees and paws at your tights, starting to pull them down before he gets impatient and simply tears. It doesn’t take much effort; they’re made of cheap material and Toji is, well, stronger than the average person.

You make a noise of protest, but it dies in your throat when he spreads your legs and stuffs your already dripping cunt with two of his fingers.

“I knew you were getting off on that—just like I knew you’d have the most gorgeous fuckin’ pussy,” he drawls, watching the way his fingers split you open and groaning at how warm and soft you are. God damn, you are going to feel divine wrapped around his cock.

“Come on, baby, tell me you liked it…” he licks a stripe up your neck, his free hand slipping under your sweatshirt to grope your tits— “heart’s beating so fast. You excited?”

You shake your head and buck your hips all at once, and when Toji leans close again, you surge up to catch him in another cruel kiss. This time, you fist your hands in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt.

He lets you think you’re at least halfway in control, but the longer you taste him, the faster he fingerfucks you, his palm slapping against your clit as he increases the pace until you start to grow tense beneath him.

He knows that look, that tell-tale coil of muscles. You stop kissing him, breaths getting short and quick, but Toji keeps his face close to yours, growls at you to, “look at me while you cum,” as he pulls your first, messy orgasm from you.

You truly are a sight to behold, whole body spasming as your cunt sucks at his fingers. You break his gaze when your eyes roll into the back of your head, lips trembling around poorly formed pleas.

It feels like his last shred of sanity snaps. Seeing you run from him was one thing, triggered something primal in his brain that made him chase—hunt—but this, having you laid out on the dirt and the leaves…

This is how it was always supposed to be, Toji thinks to himself as he pulls his cock free from his pants. It throbs with every beat of his heart, pulsing in his palm and leaking pearly precum.

You’re soft and pliant from your orgasm, offering only a whimper when he readjusts and hikes your leg over his shoulder.

“Gonna be good for me, yeah?” he huffs, lining himself up with your sopping entrance, thick head prodding at your squishy ring of muscle. “Just take it like a good girl, just—”

He cuts himself off with a groan as he starts pushing in, bullying his way into your perfect cunt and reveling in the noises it makes. You suck him deeper and deeper, and Toji laughs at the expression painting your pretty face: shock, maybe a little fear as you struggle to look down at where you’re attached, watching as he fills you inch by inch.

Your body stretches around him, makes him feel like fucking Moses the way your spongy walls make room for his girth.

“Fuck… fuck, Toji, you’re—”

“Sh, sh, I know, sweetheart, just a little more,” he lies. He’s maybe halfway in, but there’s no way he’s stopping now, not until his cockhead is bruising your cervix.

You whine, back arching, and Toji tries to soothe you with a clumsy kiss only to hiss when you catch his lip and bite hard.

He grunts, tries to pull back, but you keep him still, drawing blood from his mouth first then his ribs when you claw at him. He can feel his shirt cling to the shallow wounds and growls when you release him, the sudden loss of pressure just as painful as the initial bite.

“Jesus, woman…”

“You—hah—deserve it,” you choke, stained mouth opening wider and wider with every inward thrust.

Your cry echoes in the woods when he bottoms out without warning, and Toji immediately sets a merciless pace. He watches you coat his thick shaft in cream, your poor little fuckhole so leaky and stretched. The noises you’re making are more animal than human, needy whines and pained grunts as you take everything he has to give.

Toji fists a hand in your hair, gives your head a little shake and watches the way your eyes slowly roll to meet his. Your lips are swollen, still red with his own blood, but they part when he tells you to, “open wide,” so he can spit on your tongue. Toji grins when you swallow, finally finally too out of your damn mind to talk back.

“That’s a good bitch,” he mutters, and when he sees your mouth twitch into a little smile, he pushes further, “that’s all you wanted, yeah? You just needed to be put in your place, huh, baby?”

He throws your other leg over his shoulder and locks both arms behind you, hands curling up your back to grip your shoulders. Rutting into you relentlessly, Toji kisses and bites all over your neck and chest, licking up the drool that slips from your mouth.

You’ll be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you’re tough, so you’ll live. And even if he has to listen to you bitch and moan, it’ll be worth it after feeling your sweet pussy wrapped around him, gushing all over his fat cock with every orgasm he forces out of you.

“T-Ji…”

It comes out more as a cough, one that Toji ignores as he feels his climax approach. He uses you like a toy, fucking into you over and over and committing the sticky squelch of your pussy to memory. He’s gonna replay this masterpiece over and over for years to come, fucking his fist while imagining the way you look right now—tears streaming down the sides of your face, lips spit slick and swollen, skin all bruised up from his own mouth and fingers.

Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, and you’re taking his cock so well, pussy swallowing him up and squeezin’ so so nice, he has to let go. He has to—

“Oh fuck, baby, gonna fill you up so good. You ready?”

You respond with a sort of gurgle that Toji takes as confirmation, and after a few more thrusts he empties his heavy balls inside of you. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so much or so hard in his life, hot white painting your guts in viscous ropes until it starts seeping out around his cock.

Your poor cunt is so swollen, lips all puffy and messy with slick and cum. And that fat little clit—Toji pinches it, probably too mean, and coos at you to relax and take it when you start to sniffle.

“Sorry, baby. Gotta make sure you get yours too, right?” He knows you already have, but he can’t help but toy with you a little longer.

Besides, you’re being so good for him now, so docile as your body twitches, jaw moving like you want to say something but can’t, eyes rolling all around your pretty head until your muscles seize up and you cum for him one more time.

“There we go—that’s a good girl, see?” You blink teary eyes at him, a deep breath shuddering through you as one, maybe two senses return to you. “Feel better?”

You nod slowly as if confused. Or high. Probably the latter considering Toji is feeling pretty stoned too, a little dizzy as he sits up straight and leans back on his heels.

“Good. Next time you need the attitude fucked outta ya’, just tell me instead of actin’ like a bitch, ‘kay?”

A little smirk curls onto your face, and before Toji can react, you’re sitting up with two hands wrapped around his throat.

“Call me that again, and I’ll show you what a bitch can really do.”

Your palm presses against his windpipe in a threatening way. Your eyes shine with dark promise.

And Toji’s cock twitches at the idea of riling you up all over again.

[leonsrailway]

hello my love! been thinking about creepy stalker leon lately <3 maybe vendetta leon! he's damaged mentally and he can't stop himself from being fixated on you. like he corners you somewhere and dubious consent things proceed. IN PUBLIC WOULD BE HOT, but they don't get caught. for a fem! reader

ive been watching you.

AHHHHH first request ate tf up. something about vendetta leon makes me blush. i hope u like!!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW UNDER THE CUT

CW: smut 18+, p in v, fingering, oral (f! receiving), dubcon, semi-public sex, stalking, obsession, masturbation, leon being a creepy perv, age gap (reader is like 22), noncon photography, choking, size kink if u squint and tilt ur head

fem! reader

divider: @leonsdolly

hes not a weirdo. really! he never meant for it to go this far.

it was a random day last august when he wandered into the restaurant you worked at. but as soon as you came to his table and introduced yourself with that pretty little smile and those big doe eyes, he knew he'd been in trouble. after a short pause, he turned his charm on and started a conversation with you.

then he found himself back the next day. and the next.

he swore the only reason he showed up was for the coffee, which was the laziest excuse he could muster considering the coffee was from K-Cups, but you didnt seem to mind. every time you worked, you found your eyes glancing to his booth hoping to see his dark hair poking over the top of the booth in front of him. he could see the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, he just hoped you didnt notice the way his cock twitched when his eyes locked with yours.

during your small talk at his table, even after he learned you were half his age, he could only ever think about the way his large, rough hands would feel running all along your body, from your pretty tits, to your waist, to your thighs, to your- oh shit, what were you saying?

"you with me, Mr. Kennedy?" fuck, he loved when he heard his name leave your lips. "uh, yeah, sorry. long night. what were you saying?"

"did you want your regular?" you were smirking, almost mocking how distracted he was.

"yea, add something for yourself pretty lady, come sit with me on your break?"

leon had been a regular of your months. he looked to be in his late 30s-early 40s, and you'd be lying if you said his little nickname didnt make your knees a little weak.

"as much as id love to, Mr. Kennedy, i cant today. but i can definitely get that order in for you" you reluctantly deny his request.

he didnt appreciate that.

-

after a week of discreetly following you home after your shifts, he'd learned your routines. what time you shower in the evening, what time you have dinner, what time you touch yourself when everyone else falls asleep...

leon invested in some binoculars from the local nerd store and even found a little bush he could hide in perfectly angled to show him your bedroom. he even bought himself a new camera so he could take pictures of you when you look your best, oblivious.

when you had gone off to work one day, he snuck in right as you left. he's not sure what possessed him to do this, he used to be such a good guy. he wanted to protect and serve and... now look at him, rummaging in some 20 somethings underwear drawer.

-

you slam the register shut after counting your money for that night, it had been a long one. full of old men, not leon, telling you to "smile for them" or snapping at you for a refill of their sweet teas. everyone else had gone home for the night, and you were just about to lock up. your body ached, you felt like falling on the nearest flat surface and knocking out for the week.

until you heard the bell ding.

"we're close-" you were cut off by yourself when you saw who walked in, "oh, hey Mr. Kennedy."

theres his girl. "hey honey, you alright? you look tired" he approached you from behind.

"its been a long day, but nothing i can't handle. i was actually just about to lock up the restaurant... so.." you trail off, hoping he may get the hint that you just want to go home.

"well good thing i came in, huh?" he laughs, and so do you, but you didnt find it too funny. he was starting to stand a little bit too close to you for your comfort, even though you trusted him.

"i guess" you say, blushing when he gives you a look that made you almost rip off his shirt right then and there. but you cant, thats wrong, what would your parents think?

"you look pretty, angel" leon says, tilting your head up to look up at him. god, he was tall, and his one hand could cover your whole face.

"t-thank you Mr. Ke-"

"Leon. call me Leon"

"thank you, leon" you reply, crossing your arms, tensing up. you knew you shouldn't be feeling this way, it isn't professional.

he couldnt hold himself back anymore. whether it was the way your big pretty eyes looked up at him like a trap, or the way his hand was finally grazing your soft skin, something made him bold enough to kiss you.

"Le- Leon... we can't" you made out between kisses, as much as you were denying him, you were still kissing him back, that kept him going.

"we can't? that's too bad..." he mutters in your ear, breath fanning against your neck as his fingers wandered below your waistband, "because im gonna do it anyway"

you squirmed against him but you couldn't deny the way you mewled in his ear when he grazed your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. he laughed meanly in your ear before putting his free hand around your throat and gently squeezing when he applies the slightest pressure to your clothes clit, making you moan, "i knew you'd like that". he lays you down in a booth in the empty restaurant.

"p-lease... fuck" you tugged at his shirt, shyly asking for more. he laughs at the change in your charcter from only a moment ago, before ultimately complying with your silent request. he rips your clothes off and leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck, to your tits, to your stomach, and finally down to your pussy.

he gazes up at you with the hungriest eyes youve ever seen, glazed over and half lidded yet so focused on you. he makes out with your cunt, his nose bumping into your clit as he slips his tongue in and out of your hole, making lewd, borderline pornographic sounds. you were a wreck, writhing under him and grinding your hips into his face as he moaned incoherent praises into you, the vibrations making you soak his face more than you knew you could.

he eventually sticks two fingers into you as he sucks on your puffy, neglected clit, and once he curls his fingers to the spot that makes you jolt, he keeps on hitting that spot again and again and again until you cum in his mouth. he doesnt stop then, using his tongue to clean up your mess until you're pushing him away, a stupid cocky grin plastered on his wet lips.

you didn't realize you were taking his belt off until his cock was in front of you. he was big, leaking precum from his pretty pink tip and his eyes were piercing yours as he pumped himself a few times before lining himself with your entrance, the two of you gasping in tandem as he bottomed out inside of you.

tears pricked at your eyes as he began to move, the pain and pleasure and overstimulation from your last orgasm all combining and making a cocktail of sensations you've never experienced before. your head lolled to the side and you squeezed your eyes shut while leon rocked you into next year, until he just almost cuts off your airway and forces you to face him and look in his eyes as he drills into you like a jackhammer.

"ah-ah-ah-f-uuuck, Lee!" you moaned into his neck as you scratched pretty red lines down his back, making him grit his teeth to keep from letting out a whine he'd only heard when cumming in the panties he stole from your room

"i know pretty girl, feels good doesn't it?" he lets up on your throat, not that you could catch your breath at the rate he was plowing you. "y-yes- i'm cumming, oh my god im cumming" your eyes roll into the back of your head and you draw blood from biting your lip.

"go ahead princess, im right there with you" he grunts, slightly angling to hit you impossibly deeper, which was your final straw, you let out a string of curses and chants of his name as you cream his cock, he spills his load inside of you. not that you're that angry, his warm cum spilling out of you felt so nice you couldn't dare be angry.

the two of you catch your breath in silence until leon snaps a photo of your leaky cunt, both of your cum spilling onto your thighs.

[kennahjune]

Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

.

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷

[hypnoneghoul]

okay more tail amputee phantom thoughts as promised, under the cut because it got long

i think the piece that's left is under a half of what he had, just where the bone ends so he has full control over the nub. the thing is that it's not something he's used to, he lost the rest of his tail on his way topside so he's had the full thing most of his life. he does het phantom (pun not intended) pains but that's not the worst. the worst is that because he's been alone in the pit, he's never had a chance to wrap his tail around another ghoul. and then when he came topside and would finally be able to do that, his tail got all bit ripped off and now he literally mourns that ability. it's not only a customary ghoulish way of showing affection but it's an instinct. when a ghoul cares for another ghoul they wrap their tail around them to keep them close and safe and show they care. it's like a human holding hands and hugging and kissing and so so much more. phantom can't do that and he's heartbroken because of it. omega and aether tried to come up with a prosthetic but nothing seemed to cut it and only caused phantom more discomfort so they eventually gave up, but he still can't, and probably never will, accept the fact that hes missing something so important. of course his pack tells him that it's not that important, that theres other ways of showing how he loves them and all that, but phantom is just...lacking

now the first time that someone actually came up with something that would work was swiss. you know those tricks when they set a fake hand next to a real one and cover your wrist with something and then touch the fake one and you can feel it? yeah imagine that with a tail and some quintessence. swiss used some quintessence to convince phantoms mind even for a split second that rains tail that was wrapping around his waist was phantom's. it worked, as I said for just a second, but it did. phantom cried. a lot

another step I would say was dew. I think he and phantom were cuddling one time with dew on his back under a sleeping starfished phantom. dew would roam his hands all over his body and he'd get to his nub tail and start fidgeting with it. it feels just like the first part of a normal tail and dew wonders if it's not enough to wrap around a hand at least. or another tail. it must be, so he tries to coax it to wrap around his wrist as phantom sleeps. it would probably be easier if he were awake and helped, but it still works, more or less and dewdrop is delighted. he leaves it like that and waits until phantom wakes and the moment it registers in his sleepy brain that he's holding dews arm with his tail he starts sobbing with relief like never before

it's still not the fulfilling feeling he'd get if he had a full sized tail, but he knows his pack loves him so much that they will never stop trying to come up with new ways to feed his instinct

[jamminlocks]

A Very Full Bed {Ushijima x Reader}

Tags: F/M, M/M, post timeskip, Fluff, Hand holding, establish relationship, ushijima is soft, reader's gender is unspecified, one shot, not beta read, sfw word count: 1262 Summary: its the first time Ushijima entered your room and you have a bed full of plushies A/N: the fic mentioned from this post [ao3]

•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°

"Oh" in a mildly surprised tone is the first thing Wakatoshi says when he enters your room, having to duck down the door frame. It's obvious what this is about. The first thing anyone sees in your room is the many, many stuffed animals that sit on your bed and pillows, talking up almost half the bed space. They are stacked by height, smaller plushies on top of bigger, wider ones. Bigger, cute animals leaning on the headboard.

You quietly laugh to yourself before speaking to him. "Yeah. it's like a kid's bed, right?"

He doesn't say anything, simply humming in agreement as he scans the bed. You wait for some kind of comment from him, something along the lines of "you're a child at heart", "you didn't outgrow them", or "aren't you too old for this?".

You doubt that Wakatoshi is the kind to say something like the last line, but everyone who always had something to say.

Still he is quiet, just standing by the door. Finding no reason to talk about it more, you move on to why you two are actually here: finding the damn charger for your laptop. Just when you two were about to start sorting through your drive to see shots you took of Wakatoshi in his game, your laptop died.

"Can you look near my bed? I'll check the drawers here." You instruct. Opening one the first drawer you can reach and dig through the items.

"How many stuffed animals do you have?" Wakatoshi asked.

You didn't think he'd still be on that. With your hand still in the drawer, you look up to the ceiling and recount each plushie you know you have. "I dunno. I know I got 4 big ones on the bed. There's another two in my closet somewhere.” attention moving to the door of the closet, recalling if you’ve recently done rearrangements in there.

"You must be sleeping well at night with them around," he said

"I don't sleep with most of them, actually. Every night I move the bigger ones over there”, you point at the armchair.

Not really being in a hurry to find the charger, you stopped searching and walked up to the bed then let yourself fall onto the mattress. Some plushies squished under your weight.

"See, if I sleep with them every night like this, it's gonna get messy." You twist and climb on properly. Some plushies sitting near the edge were either moved to sit atop the bigger stuffed toys or thrown to the armchair. Once there was enough space, you lay down on your back, holding onto a large headed koala plushie. “But, yeah, It's really comfy here though,”

Wakatoshi gently smiles. It may seem the same from his indifferent expression, there's enough to see that he is happy.

You pat the vacant space beside you, “here.”

Wakatoshi initially hesitates to take the invitation. You’re insistent, moving other stuffed toys aside to make room for him. Giving in, he does his best to help you, placing of the smaller plushies to sit atop the pillow sized ones, huddling together. Though, there are still others by the foot of the bed that stayed.

The mattress sinks from his weight and you feel it. The weight of an athlete is not one you usually perceive. Wow can it move you. He does the best he can to not russell the bed that much as he settles himself. Some of the plushies fall back to blankets. His broad and muscled shoulders and arms squash the soft materials of the stuffed toys and he rests his head on the blue, seal shaped pillow. You hand him the large, round plush of a Shiba Inu, placing it over his chest. To which he takes and coversnhis stomach with.

You change your position to rest on your side, facing Wakatoshi. “How is it?”

As you patiently wait for his answer, he shifts in small motions. A hand petting the stuffed dog. You can’t help but think how silly this is right now. 

With his usual deep, monotone voice, he says, “everything is soft.”

You smile. “Sure is, huh?”

He holds out the stuffed Shiba Inu, turning to its front side for him to see its face. It has round black eyes, tongue sticking out and pink blush.

“And very cute,” he followed up. Hands squishing the sides of its head. Thumbs pressing on the cheeks. "This is the first for me"

Somehow, this is a surprising reveal to you. Not that you ever thought he was the kind to enjoy plushies as much as you do. You have thought of him as someone who could care less about them. “What, laying in a bed full of stuffed toys?” you ask in light sarcasm, just to be a little funny.

Wakatoshi hums in agreement, still playing with the dog. 

“Really? Even as a kid?” you ask, turning to your side so not to fall asleep. “You didn't have a lot of stuffed toys growing up?"

“They gave me some when I was young. I don’t believe I slept holding one or having one at my bed, however,” he said. 

He takes interest in a small cat plush wearing a dotted dress sitting by your head and takes it, toying with its paws. “Now I feel like I’ve missed out on something so simple.”

You take your favorite purple penguin to wrap your arms on and you cheerfully say to Wakatoshi, “good thing you have now, huh?”

His attention returns to you. Eyes a surprise from what you said. Then, the familiar subtle fondness you’ve observed from him shows through calm eyes and a very rare natural smile.

“You're right,” he said.

You turn and push yourself up. It gives you a good look at Wakatoshi, ever so politely lying straight on your bed surrounded by the cutest and most adorable soft toys. It's silly really. You never thought you’d ever see him like this, given how serious he comes off whether he realizes it or not. You smile at him. Plopping yourself beside him a little closer and on eye-level to him.

“How come there’s so many?” he asked, shifting to have his body face you.

“Well…”

The two of you stay in bed, talking about how and when you got the plushies. Which ones you got as a kid, those you bought with your own money or won on crane games, and those you got as a gift, along with who they were from. Wakatoshi listens attentively, asking questions after you answer. He listens to you babble on, saying his simple yet unintentionally funny remarks here and there. You’d laugh. Its nice and relaxing. 

At one point, when your voice got soft and slower as you tell the story of how you got a very expensive pokemon plush in a crane game after three times and barely spending, He sneaks his hand to yours that is resting on the mattress, lacing them together. You continue to talk as you return the gesture by playing with the grip of your fingers on his hand. Face to Face to each other.

Suddenly, Wakatoshi said, tenderness the most clear in his expression it has ever been, "we should do this more often."   

You want him to clarify what he meant by that. Does he mean just lying down together? Talking about random stuff? Or, just lying in bed. Lying on your bed? Does he want you spending time on his bed?

Whichever it is, your heart wholly agrees. 

"Yeah."

•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°

A/N: imma be real with you chief, i dont even know if they kissed after that 😅

[sam24]

Officially Confused

Summary: Tony thought you and Steve were enemies. Apparently not.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

Tony sighed as he took yet another sip of the tea Bruce had given him.

“It’ll help Tony, I promise. Just try it.”

Bullshit, Tony snorted. No matter how many cups he drank of Bruce’s alleged ‘calming’ tea, it wasn’t working.

His sleep-deprivation, bags under his eyes, major headache, and lots of meetings and press conferences needed to be attended to didn’t immediately disappear like he was secretly hoping.

And on top of that were you and Steve.

You two were a major pain in the ass for Tony, arguing all the time, during missions and meetings.

Even though he loved drama, the constant bickering had gotten a little out of hand.

Steve’s loyalty didn’t sit well with you, and your sarcasm didn’t sit well with him.

And Tony was stuck in the middle.

The first time you two had met was when he came out of the ice and Fury introduced him to you as his best agent.

The whole enemies thing didn’t actually start until you two went off on your first mission together a little bit after Bucky’s ‘rescue’ (Tony honestly didn’t know what to call it). Suddenly, you two were throwing passive-aggressive insults at each other like there was no tomorrow. After a while, the passive went away and they were just full on aggressive comments.

At first, Tony thought it was hilarious. Until he realized it was just annoying.

Individually, Tony actually really liked you, and he tolerated Steve. But together? Tony absolutely dreaded being in a room with you two in it, because nothing good could happen from that.

You both could somehow find the littlest things to argue about, and they would turn into full fledged debates in a span of 2 minutes. Usually you won, but that’s probably because Tony always waited until you had the last say to break it up.

But then something happened.

After your mission together in Craiova (even though Tony strongly vetoed the idea of you and Steve going together) something changed.

You stopped rolling your eyes the minute he opened his mouth, and he stopped leaning over to whisper something you probably wouldn’t like in Bucky’s ear whenever Fury mentioned you during Avengers meetings.

Tony once even thought he caught Steve looking at you during an Avengers Movie Night that Clint dragged you to, and not in the ‘what the hell is she doing here’ way.

Tony was needless to say shocked, but he didn’t have the time to enjoy it while it lasted because he was busy worrying that you would pull a ‘sike, you thought’ (at least that’s what Peter always would say) on him and you both would go back to making Tony go crazy.

That was the moment when you decided to walk in, taking a handful of m&ms from Clint’s ‘secret’ jar.

You raised your eyebrow at the empty tea packets decorating the kitchen counter.

“You might wanna throw those away before Steve calls the cops on you for littering.” You joked.

Tony hummed as he finished the cup with a long sip.

“Don’t blame me, it was all Doctor Bruce’s doings.”

You chuckled, not bothering to question it as you shoved another handful of stolen candy into your mouth.

“Well then please carry on. It would be hilarious to have ‘Death by Green Tea’ written on your grave.” You called over your shoulder as you left.

“Yeah, so funny.” Tony muttered before getting up to make another cup of tea.

He didn’t know if it was because he was tired, half dead inside, stressed out, or just high on tea, but he didn’t realize until 20 minutes later that the oversized hoodie you were wearing was actually Steve’s.

*

One hour later, Tony was fanned out on the couch, officially confused.

There was no doubt the hoodie was Steve’s, considering the fact he wore it all the time (and that it was an abnormal size).

Certainly you didn’t steal it from him. Steve would’ve guarded it with his life. But even if you did manage to, he would’ve hunted it down in 0.001 seconds.

Were you guys together?

No way, Tony thought. The only logical explanation is that she bought a ginormous hoodie because she was cold, and it looks exactly like his because they have similar style.

But even Tony knew that was stupid.

And in that moment, Steve strolled into the common room (what are we in, Hogwarts?), looking oddly happy.

“Oh, hey there Tone.” Steve pulled out a salad from the fridge. “You okay?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed.

He was supposed to be okay. The two people who hated each other like just last week were exchanging hoodies, so that was good for him, right? No more arguing?

Wrong.

Tony wasn’t worried anymore. He was suspicious. (Or, ‘sus’, as Peter would say.)

He decided to put Steve to the test.

“I’m fine, just tired.”

Tony continued talking about all the work he had to do as he watched Steve clearly zone out.

Step one: See if Her Name Gets His Attention.

Tony said your name, and Steve looked up so fast Tony thought his neck would snap.

“ -made me some tea though, and that really helped.” Tony carefully watched Steve’s face as he lied with no remorse.

“That’s good.” Steve was a master at the poker face, but Tony could tell it was coming down.

Step two: Watch His Reaction to Her Praise.

“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Tony was expecting jealousy to step two, but he got something even better.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool.” Steve looked down.

Tony could’ve sworn Steve was blushing.

No, he did swear. That little bastard was indeed blushing.

At this point, the rest of the steps were useless.

Steve was making it incredibly obvious.

You know that proud husband look Tony had whenever Pepper did something great that made him wanna shout ‘THAT’S MY WIFE, BITCHES’?

Yeah, that’s exactly the look Steve had on.

Steve then had a very visible realization that he was smiling like a fool and staring into space, his salad forgotten.

Steve cleared his throat and devoured the remaining of the salad as quickly as he could and practically ran out.

Tony smirked and got up from the couch - but not to make another cup of tea.

His job here was done.

Now, all he needed to do was tell the whole compound.

[dullgecko]

Riz faints in a martial fighting practicum one day. he doesn't know if it's from lack of food (the budget's been tight lately and he's been sneaking the bigger portions on his mom's plate,) dehydration (he switched from drip coffee to espresso for speed of consumption recently and it means much less liquid intake during his day,) or tiredness (when is there time for sleep in junior year?) fabian and gorgug are in class that day and don't take it well/don't let riz downplay things

Riz generally tried not to get involved in up-close fights while in actual combat situation but that didn't mean he never would. There was also no guarentee that he wouldn't be fighting someone outside his size class. In order to make sure everyone was well rounded his martial fighting class, usually only full of halflings and gnomes beside himself, had been combined with one for larger adventurers.

He'd been looking forward to it. Sure, Riz sparred with Gorgug and Fabian informally all the time but there was something a little different about doing it at school. They'd been halfway through warmups when he started feeling a little off, lagging behind slightly as they ran laps around the gym before moving into stretching so no one would hurt themselves. He pushed past it though, usually if he ignored feelings like this they'd pass eventually.

It didn't pass though, his movements feeling sluggish as he sparred with his first partner. It was bad enough that he took a few hard hits from the wooden sparing swords, the halfling he'd been fighting actually giving him a concerned look as she dropped out of fighting stance after knocking the goblin on his ass for the third time.

"Dude are you okay? You've gone... gray? Your face is gray." She waved a hand at her own face, Riz blinking at her in confusion as he shifted to stand back up.

"Yeah sorry, bit off my game today. I think I'm a bit tir-" He felt like someone had stuffed his ears with cotton when he pushed himself back to his feet, vision tuneling before reducing to a pinprick as a wave of nausea rushed over him. He had a brief moment to think that he was glad his stomach was empty before he felt his knees buckle under him, the goblin landing on the padded mat with a muffled thump like a puppet with cut strings.

He was a bit confused when he opened his eyes again, suddenly finding himself a lot more supine than he'd been several seconds ago. A heavy weight on his chest as one of the paladins in Fabian and Gorgugs class knelt over him with a hand resting on his sternum. They must have cast lay on hands because he couldn't feel any of the bruises from sparing anymore, though he still felt fucking awful.

"He still looks pretty gray."

"He's in your party yeah? Think you can handle him while we continue the lesson?"

"Yeah we've got this." Riz heard Gorgug say from somewhere behind his head, the goblin giving the paladins wrist a pat to indicate they could stop as he tried to sit up.

"I'm okay. Just... gimme a second. I think my blood sugar went a bit loopy." He had to cross his legs and lean forwards when even that bit of movement made his head spin a bit, the goblin trying to take measured breaths to try and stave off the tunnel vision so he wouldn't just flop back over again.

"Fabian went to grab you a sports drink from the vending machine." Gorgug crouched in front of Riz when the paladin got out of the way, his party member giving them a pat on the shoulder by way of thanks. "Gods you look horrible dude. You scared the shit out of your sparing partner she thought she killed you."

"Sorry. Didn't have breakfast today." Or dinner last night, though he wasn't going to say that to Gorgug. He'd get worried looks... more worried looks than he was getting now anyway. "Was in a hurry."

"I don't think this is a case of skipping one meal man. You didn't even look this bad after the whole nightmare forest thing." The half orc wiggled his fingers, glancing up at the sound of running footsteps as Fabian sprinted back across the gym.

"Oh, good, he's awake I got-" He juggled a good half-dozen sports drinks in his arms, dropping two of them to the floor before shoving a bright purple bottle into Riz's lap.

"Thanks?" Riz pulled open the cap and took a sip, very nearly draining half the bottle when he suddenly realised how thirsty he was. He would have finished the whole thing if Gorgug hadn't tipped it away from him after a few seconds.

"Dude slow down, you'll make yourself sick. We know you're dehydrated as hell given you're not even sweating after all that working out but you need to pace yourself."

Riz just sighed at that and flicked his ears in irritation, waiting a few more seconds before taking a small sip of his overly sweet drink. "I'm fine. You don't need to... hover. You should go back to sparing."

"Nope. Once you're done with that you're coming down to the nurses office." Fabian jabbed a finger at him, handing him a second sports drink when the goblin finished draining the first one.

"But I'm-"

"You're dehydrated, you probably didn't eat breakfast..." Fabian turned to Gorgug who nodded in affirmation, the fighter rolling his eye in response. "...definitely didn't eat breakfast, and the bags under your eyes need their own postal code. When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night?"

"Sorry, rephrasing, more than two hours?"

Riz's eyes darted to one side as he thought, the rogue pausing long enough that Fabian made an annoyed noise at him and flicked his ear hard enough to make him flinch.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"Nurses office. You're not arguing your way out of this one... or should we call Sklonda to come pick you up?"

Riz just hissed in response to that, getting another ear flick for his efforts which made him flinch and cover them with his hands.

"Don't call my mom." She couldn't afford to leave work early, not with their budget as tight as it was this month. His case load had been pretty sparse so he wasn't able to help with the bills.

"So you'll come down to the nurses office?" "Okay."

"And stay there until they give you the all clear?" Gorgug added, catching the subtle squint to Riz's eyes that usually meant he was looking for loopholes.

"Ffffffine. I'll stay until they let me leave."

"Good."

[mrhrns]

Astarion issue

Consider this post as another meaningless shitpost from me. After it I'm going back to my endless work. I was silent about this for gods know how much time, and now I can't hold it inside. Not anymore. Important note: I do realise that I am nobody and my word has no power and blahblahblah, yet I think it is significant, at least for my own self, and who knows, maybe I'll find people with same thoughts. There is... a reason I would like to stay out from BG3 community and fandom. I do wish to contribute my own art someday, however, because my love for this game, its characters and Larian st is huge, but getting inside of fandom, searching for things here and there? ...I don't think I want it. And yeah, that bloodsucker bastard is a main reason for it. Not him directly, but how people perceive him. What they think about him. What they feel. What they show, draw, tell and discuss with everyone else about him. And mostly all of it is... Well... I have complicated feelings about it. None of them are pleasant. Disturbance, disgust, disappointment, and many more similar to it. Why? Here where I realise that mostly the problem is myself. "It's just a fictional character, just some pixels on your screen with voice, why care?" I do. If only anybody knew how much he means to me. I don't have light and easy life, I am in a constant state of survival, I have a list of many different traumas, and holding him in my little silly head helps getting through that shit. Pure shit. Believe me. Because, hell, surviving all he had in his undead life and still managing to be that charismatic (even if it's just a mask), that willing to move forward (even with mood "well, we are doomed")? An icon. Imperfect and by doing so relatable in almost everything for me. And that is why my brain can't help it but feel about him everything like he is alive. Existent. Just somewhere else, far away with no chance of meeting him. And that is why whenever I see porn arts with him, thirsty commentaries, erotic merch like statues, discussions whether he will drink the menstrual blood or not (and even getting his main scenarist involved in that crap) and god damn, that full-sized sex-doll? A bitter irony that his whole point as of fictional character was also showing him as a person with sex-trauma, who was always perceived as a pretty toy-thing for a night against his will with no care for his actual personality in his world, and it is exactly what people do in real life. Here I am glad he isn't real. All of it isn't surprising, though, considering that steam achievements have shown that only a half of players got through the first act.They don't know and they don't want to know. Am I going to tell people what to do and how they should enjoy these fictional things? Of course not. But I would be damn glad if people were digging just a bit more under the surface, but it's a whole other problem that goes with everything else in our world. I just really needed to pull this all out from my brains and put it somewhere, sitting in my dark corner and grumbling at people, just like always. And in the end - yes, I do understand that not all of his fans are like that. Doesn't really help with going frustration.

[wosowrites]

Tattoo Tour (Ona Batlle x Reader )

Warnings: none! pure fluff

A/N: I had to invent some meanings to Ona’s tattoos bcs obviously i don’t know what they all actually mean. UPDATE: this fic rly flopped oops

Prompt: reader and ona play for man united and are doing a tattoo tour video for manchester uniteds youtube chanel.

"You guys ready?" The media manager asks, looking between you and Ona. "Yeah, let’s do it!" Ona answered, her spanish accent making your heart melt for her. You two had been together for over a year and a half now, but every day, your love for her grew even more.

"Okay, 3,2,1, rolling!" The woman behind the camera said. "Hey red devils! I’m y/n y/l/n…" you start saying, "and I am Ona Batlle…" Ona finished, "and today we are doing a tattoo tour. We both have a lot of tattoos. I think i have 9 and Ona has… 8?" you say, turning to Ona. "Sí, eight." "Right, so we’ll be showing them off to you guys, and explaining what they mean. So… let’s do it!" you finished the introduction and the camera woman cut the video taping. "Which tattoos do we show first?" Ona asks, turning to you. "Uhmm… I think i’ll start with my arms. I have three on my left and two on my right." You told her. "Okay, i’ll do my back first." Ona said. "But we should show our matching tattoo at the same time." She then added. "Yeah, of course."

Ona started unzipping her training jacket, leaving her in her sports bra. Ona had always been very comfortable with her body, often posting more revealing pictures on instagram, you were always the one behind the camera. So, you follow suite, unzipping your training top, revealing a red, manchester united muscle tank so that you could easily show your arms. "Giving the fans a show, eh?" Ona whispered lovingly into your ear. "Aren’t you to one with your abs out?" You answered, looking down at the shorter girl. "Yeah, but you have guns." Ona said, poking your bicep.

Little did they know, the camera had started rolling already. "Guys, we’re rolling." The camera woman said, laughter in her voice. "Oops… sorry." Ona said, blushing. "Okay! Ona is going to start, she’s going to show us the three tattoos on her back, while i’ll show you the ones on my arm. Then we’ll move on. Good?" You said, turning to your girlfriend at the last part. "Muy bien." She answered. "You start." You told her.

Ona turned around and started talking about her tattoos. "I got the lion when I was 22, a few months after I met y/n actually. I think it’s kind of a reminder to stay fearless, while still being kind and caring. Lions are known to be protective animals and y/n always calls me protective even though she’s 10 times more protective than I am." Ona says, laughing as you roll your eyes. "When your girlfriend is teeny and gets thrown all over the place on the pitch, you get pretty protective." You simply answer. "Ha, ha." Ona says.

A camera man comes up to the duo to get a close up of the artistic lion on Ona’s back. "Then I have this sentence right here." Ona said as you traced your finger under the sentence. "It’s in spanish but it translates to 'love should be a two sided coin' and it’s something my abuela always used to tell me. She’s never cared that I like girls, as long as the one I love loves me just as much." Ona explained.

Once again, the camera zoomed in on the sentence. "Okay it’s a short video so show yours y/n/n!" Ona said, giving you her full attention.

Despite your strong build, you were known in the world of women’s football as a pretty shy person, so every time Ona’s eyes met yours, your blush would give you away. It was something you and your best friend, Jessie Fleming, shared. "Okay. Sure." You said, turning to the main camera. "First things first. Almost all my tattoos have stories behind them, so bare with me. Speaking of, my first tattoo is a bears head." You say, turning your left bicep towards the camera and pointing to the tattoo that was about the size of your fist. "This was actually my first tattoo, which is kind of weird because usually people opt for a smaller one as their first. But I kind of just went straight for it. My teammates at UCLA used to call me bear, which is weird when you don’t know the backstory. Bears are used in two common expressions. Soft like a teddy bear, and strong like a bear. And they always used to say that those sentences both described me." You say, a camera coming and filming the tattoo up close.

You don’t notice Ona smiling at you, her eyes almost twinkling. "Then on my forearm-" you say, turning your arm to show words. "-I have the words rationed trust. That’s kind of simple honestly, never trust just one person. Then, on the back of my hand I have butterflies. Butterflies are my favorite animal. I’ve had butterflies land on me during football games like… three times. They’re just really special to me." You say, smiling at the two butterflies. "I’m gonna hurry this up a bit to get back to Oni but on my other arm I have two tattoos. One of which i’ll let Ona explain. but on the back of my arm I have a bike. Which is matching with Jessie Fleming, who’s one of my best friends in the entire world. We got them after our first year of university because we would bike everywhere, all the time and it became one of our favorite activities." You finished explaining, smiling at the camera.

You looked at Ona, staring at her as though she was the most mesmerizing person in the universe. Which, to you, she was. "A lot of people have caught on to this but we’ve never actually confirmed it. We both have a tattoo in the crook of our arm that says lover. We’re pretty big Taylor Swift fans and well, yeah." Ona says. "Plus this one here is really corny. She always says how people would tell her not to get matching tattoos with partners because what if you break up. And she always says 'the pain of getting the tattoo removed would be nothing compared to the pain of loosing Ona. So I don’t care.' " Ona quotes you. "Hey! Now everyone’s gonna think you have me wrapped around your pinky." You pout at her. "Oh but I do." Ona joked, all thought she wasn’t really joking.

Ona then explained a couple more of her tattoos, and you pointed out the whale on your rib cage, the human heart on your upper left back, the olympic rings on your hip bone, and the daisy, rose, and orchid bouquet behind your ear.

Finally, the video wrapped up, and you and Ona were free to go home.

THE WEEK AFTER:

"Oh my god guys you need to see this." Alessia Russo said, rushing towards you and Ona. Ella was right beside her, smirking. Alessia was on tik tok and pressed play on a video. It seemed to be a fan page for you and ona. the username was onaxy/n and in the caption it said 'I will never ever get over how y/n looks at Ona.'

The song playing was MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT by Elley Duhé, and at the beat drop, clips from the tattoo tour video were played, edited in sync with the audio. Clips of you looking at Ona with so much love in your eyes, the clip of you tracing Ona’s tattoo with your index, clips of you smiling down at her like she was the only person in the world.

"People are obsessed with you two." Ella said as the edit ended. "Is that how you look at me?" Ona said, smiling at you. "I don’t know! I didn’t notice I was doing that." You answered, your cheeks burning. "It is. All the time." Lessi answered, smiling cheekily. "Ha! You looove meeee!" Ona said, teasing her girlfriend. "Don’t get cocky Ona, you look at her like that too." Ella said, giggling and rushing off with Alesia. "You were saying?" You said, smirking at your girlfriend. "Te amo, bebé," Ona said, kissing you sweetly.

[apomaro-mellow]

For the bingo, I need to see a Tommy and Carol appearance please !

A lot was running through Steve's mind as he grabbed some food for Eddie, hiding out in the boathouse still. The fact that they were going through this all over again when last time for sure he thought they were done. Would it just be monsters this time? Or would they have to fight people? They were already avoiding the cops.

Steve wasn't putting any thought into what Eddie would like, how would he know? He'd just met the guy.

"Is that who I think it is?"

He definitely wasn't thinking about them anymore. He tried not to look too annoyed when he turned and Carol and Tommy were standing there, Caroll with a handbasket full of groceries, Tommy, arm around her shoulders.

"Heyy", Steve greeted half-heartedly.

"Oooh, he doesn't look to happy to see us", Tommy teased.

"You still sore about little miss priss?", Carol asked. "You two aren't even a thing anymore."

Of course they would bring up Nancy. That was their go to, before, during, and any time they crossed paths after. Steve didn't hide his annoyance this time and openly rolled his eyes.

"No, maybe it's not that. Maybe he's worried about that freak still running around", Tommy speculated.

"Yeah, and since the Byers are gone, Nancy doesn't have her weirdo boyfriend here anymore. Maybe she'll get got by that freak, Munson."

"Byers didn't actually off his brother, so she needs to get got by a real killer."

Steve listened to them snicker for half a second before losing it. "Pretty rich coming from a couple of nobodies who couldn't make the news even if they did get the nerve to kill someone."

They looked affronted but not chastised so he continued.

"If you learned nothing from what happened with Jonathan and his brother, it's innocent until proven guilty. So no, I'm not worried about Munson or anything he might be up to. The guy plays pretend in the drama room and hangs out with freshmen."

Steve took a quick look in Carol's basket.

"And I'd be more worried about the fact that Carol's picked up a box of condoms that are not in your size Tommy."

He stayed long enough to catch the look on their faces before meeting back up with Dustin at the register. Eddie was innocent. And when this was all over, he'd make sure everyone in town knew it.

Steddie bingo under the cut

[suzukiblu]

more black zero please!

“I hope you all know I’ll be holding that against you,” Black Zero informs the Justice League, eyeing them darkly. Assholes. Assholes willing to strap a two year-old clone to an atomic bomb to investigate a threat they didn’t know jack shit about without backup. 

He could use a stronger descriptor than “assholes”, actually. 

“This isn’t the situation where you get to threaten people,” Superman says, narrowing his eyes at him. Black Zero genuinely debates taking a page from his teenage selves’ books and flipping him off. If Superman wants to talk to him like he’s somehow under the impression that he’s the strongest person in the room, he should, perhaps, remember that Wonder Woman is three feet away from him, and also that Black Zero himself is, again, an upgrade. “This is the part where you give us a reason not to send you to the Phantom Zone.” 

Black Zero really should just punch him. 

“Well, if you’re going to try me on hearsay, technically I am a minor,” he drawls, raising an eyebrow at Superman. He really did expect someone more impressive. “I’m the exact same age as your ‘Kon-El’, in fact.”

“I mean, give or take a reality,” Superboy says, gesturing awkwardly. “But, uh–yeah. I mean, Black Zero didn’t time-travel or anything, Cadmus just grew him to full-size and then kinda, uh . . . tossed him at Metropolis and told him to just . . . go be Superman. Which did not go well, for the record, so like–I mean, I get the Phantom Zone concerns, but he didn’t start out bad, and, well . . .” 

“It did not go well, no,” Black Zero agrees, his lip curling in disdain at the memories. Superman looks unsettled for a moment, then narrows his eyes at him in obvious judgment, like he thinks he has the right. 

“You’re a psychological adult,” he says. “You knew better than to do what you’ve done.” 

“You stayed dead in my reality,” Black Zero says, wondering what the inside of this idiot’s head must be like. Sunshine and puppies and bullshit, apparently. “Left it all to me. And you don’t know a thing about what I had to do.” 

He knows much better, in fact. Better than Superman, who was accepted even as an alien stranger who lied about his name to everyone he met. Everyone in Black Zero’s home reality had known exactly who he was and where he’d come from and what he’d been made for from day one, but they’d never trusted him half as much as their precious original Superman, even before things had started going bad. 

Black Zero still finds that ironic, considering. He has human DNA. He had humans he cared about. Specific and visible ones who weren’t just allied superheroes or people who could conveniently spin his existence for the press. 

No one could say the same about Superman. Not as far as they knew. 

“And you clearly made your choices,” Superman says. Black Zero gives him a flat look, then decides he’s not worth acknowledging any more than he already has and looks back to Superboy. 

“I’ve never actually met a Superman before,” he says. “Are they all this fucking sanctimonious?” 

“I mean, I’ve gotten some very weird lectures from the guy,” Superboy admits, making a bit of a face. “But he’s not–what the fuck does ‘sanctimonious’ even mean, asshole?” 

“It means he thinks he’s morally superior to the rest of the conversation,” Black Zero says. “And that he’s making a point of shoving that ‘fact’ in our faces.” 

“He is morally superior to us,” Superboy says in exasperation, scowling up at him again. “He’s Superman! That’s his whole thing!” 

“And I’m sure you came to that conclusion completely on your own, and through no outside influence whatsoever,” Black Zero says dryly. “Definitely no ‘very weird lectures’ were involved in the process.” 

“Don’t twist my fucking words around!” Superboy snaps indignantly. 

“Kon . . .” Superman says, his jaw tightening. Black Zero continues to ignore the spare parts, for obvious reasons.

[berryhobii]

Holly molly! I have just discovered you and let me tell you, you are fantastic. I think I speak for the readers when I say we can see ourselves though your work, and that makes us feel represented. Thank you so much! <3

I have an idea for a drabble, and since you are accepting requests I hoped you could write about it: a really independent reader having a horrible day but not wanting to let anyone know and fiance!Yoongi noticing and being her rock/support

Thanks for your request! Long haired Yoongi has been plaguing me for months and the thought that we won’t get that back for a while has me sliding down a wall😭😭enjoy this cute little thing about Yoongi being an awesome fiancé during reader’s small overstimulated breakdown. I also added a bathtub scene because why not?

~

Your horrible day started when you got to work that morning. You actually felt really good about how you dressed and did your hair today. It was a successful wash and go style. Months of trial and error had made you an expert in managing an effortless style. Apparently for your boss though, your hair wasn’t deemed “professional” for the workspace. He called it unruly and told you to get it together by tomorrow.

Then you accidentally spilled your morning Starbucks on your brand new blouse. The lid wasn’t all the way secure so when you lifted it to your mouth, it opened and got all over you. At least your pants didn’t get ruined and good thing you liked iced coffee instead of hot.

You kept backup clothes under your desk just for that though. The incident with your shirt caused you to be 15 minutes late to your meeting. It felt awkward as you slipped in the room, everyone’s eyes staring daggers into you as you shuffled to your seat. Thankfully, it wasn’t your turn to present so you still had a chance to impress them with your work.

But it also turns out that karma was an evil bitch because guess who left their flash drive in your laptop at home?!

Embarrassment couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt, your smile waning as you apologized for your mishap and promised to have it by tomorrow.

After a berating from your boss which was packed with micro aggressions, you went back to your desk to have a mini breakdown in peace which didn’t even get a chance to start since you found your chair gone once you got there. One of your coworkers explained that they needed extra chairs for a larger meeting so they “borrowed” yours. And was it just a coincidence that yours was the only one missing despite your desk being nowhere near the door?

Your brain was on overdrive, nerves overstimulated and tears ready to flow down your face. Everything was too much right now.

Deciding take a half day, you rushed out to your car, dropping your brand new scarf in a muddy puddle caused by the rain yesterday.

You wanted to scream so badly but you fought back the emotions. You’d be home soon.

Yeah. Home. That’s where you needed to be.

At least your parking spot was free…….and no it wasn’t. A moped was in its place. Great. Why the hell did those things even need full parking spaces? They were half the size of a car!!

You found another after double and triple checking it wouldn’t get your car towed because that would just be the icing on the cake.

Your apartment was warm when you entered, the scent of your favorite candles hitting your nose. That could only mean one thing…..

He was home.

Your body itched to seek him out and melt your worries in the warmth of his embrace, to let the world fade away under his nimble hands, and let your brain finally turn off as his deep voice lulled you to sleep.

But you couldn’t….

Growing up, you never had a very good support system. Your family often minimized your worries and needs, forcing you to care for yourself. You had no one to express your emotions to, no one to depend on in those dark moments. You only had yourself and while you convinced yourself that was okay, you knew deep down it wasn’t.

Then you met Yoongi. At first, you kind of ignored him, not feeling vulnerable enough to have a relationship yet. Your last one was with a guy who tried to guilt trip you into becoming a stay at home wife but that was never your style. You didn’t want to be dependent on someone like that. You wanted your own money and career to fall back on and develop. That guy kind of put you off relationships as a whole.

But Yoongi was never like that. He never tried to force you to do anything you didn’t want. He cooked and cleaned, did laundry and never complained. You did your part as well but even on those days where you didn’t, Yoongi would just pick up the slack. You’d always feel bad, insisting you’d do more housework but he’d just wave you off.

“It’s fine. I got it. I’m at home all day anyway. If you touch that broom, I’m gonna chain you to the bed but you’d probably like that.”

Yoongi was genuine. He never pressured you or made you feel like you needed to constantly be on guard.

A part of you wished you could be as laid back as him. He completed you. Calmed the storm that constantly brewed in you. Dissipated all of your irrational fears.

He was there for you. Always.

So why could you never stop that bubbling feeling that you were being too needy? Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that you could rely on him to be a shoulder to cry on. You knew that. You did.

But you just couldn’t.

You could hear him clinking around in the kitchen, probably making himself some lunch. You could also hear music so there’s a chance he didn’t hear you come in the door.

You quietly shuffled through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom. Once inside, you softly closed the door, leaning against it as you felt your body ready to break down. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the day finally crushing you.

You inhaled a shaky breath, tears pricking at your waterline ready to fall but you held them back. You wouldn’t cry. Not over this.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 1,2,3. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

A small knock to the door behind you made you pause.

Did he know you were home?

“Bubs, are you in there?” You used to think that pet name was so silly. Just use your actual name, right? But over the years, you’ve grown to adore it. You’ve never been called so affectionately before, not even by your parents.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Yoongi just hummed. You could hear a little bit of shuffling before it went quiet again.

“I went to the grocery store today and there was a sale on those bulk yogurt drinks you really like. I almost got shoulder checked by this grandma. I didn’t know old people could move so quickly.”

You felt yourself chuckle a little, your fingers twisting your engagement ring around.

“But guess who got the last pack of them?”

“Did you really fight a grandma for yogurt? You’re a grown man, Yoongi.”

“Hey, I wasn’t about to let an old lady punk me.” You could imagine his cute little frown and pouty lips. “Don’t worry though, I gave her my signature sandwich recipe and she gave me a coupon for some meat. We’re having chicken tonight.”

He was so ridiculous. So silly.

He was yours.

Slowly turning around, you grabbed the door handle and opened it, finding Yoongi sitting crossed legged on the floor. He stood when you came into his vision.

His long bangs were tied up in a little ponytail with a tangerine hair clip holding it back. To most outsiders and strangers, your fiancé could look cold and distant and he sometimes acted it but to you, you knew he was gentle and cute. The most compassionate and kindest person you’ve ever met.

You two stared at each other for a few beats before he slowly raised his arms, a wide and gummy smile making his eyes crinkle up.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. The dam finally broke.

You practically threw yourself into his embrace, the tears endlessly pouring from your eyes. Your fingers twisted in the back of his crewneck, holding him tightly as if you’d fade away if you let go.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, shushing you as he pet your hair gently.

“Today was awful, Yoongi! I s-spilled coffee on m-myself and I was late to my meeting…” You cried into his shoulder, words stuttering as you tried to talk through your tears. “And then I didn’t even have my flash d-drive and my boss told me my hair isn’t‘professional’, whatever that means….” His hand rubbed at your back, remaining silent to let you get everything out. “And I dropped my new scarf in a puddle and there was this dumb little moped in my parking spot! It’s just been an awful day!”

He kissed your temple, rocking you two side to side in an attempt to calm you.

“I know, bubs. It’s over now. I’m here.”

Yoongi let you cry, just holding you and whispering how much he loved you.

After your cries had dwindled to sniffles, Yoongi slowly pulled back to look at you. He pouted his lip at the sight of your wet lashes and red eyes. You looked drained.

His hands cupped both of your cheeks, gently rubbing his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the streaks.

“My poor baby. You must be so tired.”

You sighed shakily, fluttering your eyes closed. “I am.”

His forehead bumped against yours. “Why don’t I run you a nice bath? Then we can snuggle on the couch? How’s that sound?”

That sounded absolutely amazing.

You opened your eyes. “Will you join me?”

His smile was sweet and full of love. “Of course.”

~

Your body sunk into the warm water. You normally preferred your baths hot as hell but Yoongi had sensitive skin and you didn’t want to irritate that. The temperature of the water didn’t matter much when the heat of your beloved was pressed into your back.

His smooth hands ran all over your body—not in a sexual way but in a soothing and grounding way. Although your body did tingle when he grazed over your nipples.

“Do you feel a little better?” He asked, kissing at your shoulder.

You sighed, “yeah. Thank you, Yoon.”

“Anything, bubs.”

“I’m sorry I’m still kind of bad at coming to you. I was already overwhelmed and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Look at me.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, craning your neck to be able to make eye contact with him. And what beautiful eyes he had.

“Never apologize for that. If you need a moment by yourself, that’s okay. And when you’re ready to find me, come find me. I’ll never turn you away. When I proposed to you, I promised to help you shoulder all of your bad days and I meant that.”

You smiled, moving to press a kiss to his soft lips, your hand coming up to hold the back of his head. His hair felt soft underneath your fingers. “I know. Thank you. I promise to be there for you too.”

“You already are. Just do what you feel is right and when you need me, I’ll be there. You can ruin as many sweaters as I have.”

You snorted a laugh, rolling your eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “You can love me.”

“I already do.”

“Good.”

…..

“Yoongi, are you getting a boner?”

“No.”

“I’m trying to relax, Yoongi! How can you get horny at a time like this? I’m getting out.”

“You’re pressed up against me naked! You should take it as a compliment. Come back!”

…….

“Does that mean bath time is over?”

“Get in here before I change my mind!”

“Yes ma’am.”

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie could barely hear the sound of the fireworks over the wet sounds of their lips meeting. They were making out on his bed, and they had been for hours, both more than happy to ignore how tired they were.

Steve pulled away first, laughing when Eddie tried to chase his mouth. He put a hand to his chest to hold him back, smiling ear to ear, Happy New Year.” 

Eddie grinned back at him, still angling to press their lips back together, "Happy New Year."

And what a year it was, definitely in competition for the best year of Eddie’s life. Sure he had spent half of it in the hospital, and yeah he was making a lot of morally questionable career choices, but he was saving money and helping his uncle financially. And the small fact he had freaking Steve Harrington as a boyfriend. And in his bed. Who was letting him start kissing his pretty mouth again.

Eddie couldn’t think of a better way to ring in the New Year.

He didn't know how long they laid there together, lazily exploring each other. It wasn't until Steve started yawning into his mouth did Eddie decide it was about time to call it a night.

Steve crawled under the covers first, smiling when Eddie kissed his forehead before standing, "Where are you going?"

"Just gonna get some water sweetheart, you need anything?

“Water sounds good, but hurry. Or else I’ll miss you.”

Eddie snorted, way too amused at the line. God, he was corny. But that didn’t stop Eddie’s heart from skipping a beat. He was too fucking cute.

Cute enough for him to actually hurry. He was just stepping back into the hallway from the kitchen, two glasses of water in hand when the door slammed open. It was a miracle he didn’t spill it all over himself. 

He could hear the sound of his uncle cursing, mumbling under his breath, “Gotta fix that damn door.”

Wayne was home, four hours earlier than he should have been, and Eddie was frozen in the hallway like a moron. He spotted Eddie the second he turned his head, of couse he did. Their house was the size of a match box, and the sight of him stopped Wayne in his tracks. 

Shit.

There he was, with two glasses of water in his hands, in only his underwear, hair a mess.

 Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

They stared at each other, neither of them sure on what to say next. Eddie swallowed, suddenly feeling very ill. 

"You're home early," He tried, like that was going to make a difference. Wayne nodded, eyebrow raised as he looked him up and down.

Eddie’s mind was racing for some kind of explanation. Maybe he could try and play it off as a new girlfriend-

"Go get dressed and get Steve,” Wayne sighed, “It's time we all had a talk."

Well so much for that. 

That’s how the two of them found themselves huddled on the couch together, eyes trained on the floor while Wayne stared them down. Eddie was clutching at Steve’s hand, aware that now probably wasn’t the best time for it. But he didn’t have a choice. It was the only thing that was stopping him from having a panic attack. 

He didn’t know how this was gonna go, but he had a feeling that tears were going to be involved.

It’s not that he doubted that Wayne loved him, not after everything he’d done for him. He was ninety percent sure full disownment was off the table. And he knew Wayne loved Steve, maybe not as much as him, but he was probably a solid sixth or seventh place. Steve had been glued to his side for over a year now, but even before that Wayne knew him. The two of them had bonded plenty while Eddie was in a coma for three months.

And that wasn't including all of the sports games they were obsessed with watching together.

But that didn’t mean that he’d be okay with this. Did it?

Wayne finally broke the silence, expression unreadable, “How long has this been going on for?”

Eddie opened his mouth, cringing when no sound actually came out. But Steve was answering for him, voice shaky but determined, “We’ve only been together for a few months. But I’ve been in love with him for a lot longer.”

“Me too,” Eddie added, finally finding his voice, emboldened by Steve's honesty, “I…I love him more than anything Wayne.”

But just because he could talk didn't mean he could actually look at him. He was staring at the ground, too much of a coward to meet his eyes. But if he had, he would have seen them soften, his arms relaxing at his sides. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, “Christ, I knew this day was coming, I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Eddie looked up at him, a hopeful feeling blooming in his chest, "You did?"

The old man actually rolled his eyes at him, “Eds, do you think I’m an idiot? Or do you think the two of you are sneaky? Because either way, you’re wrong.”

"Of course, I knew. Eds you’re my boy. How could I not know? I've been preparing for this since last year. I just thought that you’d clue me in when you both finally got your shit together." 

"You're not mad?" Steve asked. He sounded cautiously optimistic, eyes flitting between Eddie and Wayne.

"Steve, there's no one else on this earth that makes him as happy as you do. That's all that matters to me. But why didn’t you just tell me?"

“I was terrified of what could happen,” Eddie admitted, guilt replacing the anxiety in his stomach, “We both were. And I…I didn’t want to lose you.”

He startled a little when Wayne squatted down in front of him, instantly pulling him into a hug, "I want you to listen up and listen up good. There is nothing you can do that would make me stop caring about you, let alone stop loving you. I’m not going anywhere."

Eddie nodded against him, clutching at his shirt. He was a little bit in awe here. Yeah, he knew Wayne was a good person, obviously, but he was just so...awesome. Everything Eddie could ask for in a parent. How the hell had he ever been related to his dad?

Oh god, he was going to cry, his original prediction ringing true. He felt like a little kid again, back when Wayne was the only person in the world who made him feel like he was loved.

Wayne turned to look at Steve, “And that includes you too. When I say you can tell me anything, I mean you can tell me anything.”

They pulled back, Wayne giving Eddie a chance to wipe at his eyes before going on,

"But that's only me. You got that? The world ain’t kind and I need you both to be safe. Whatever you do under this roof, stays under this roof. While I am not here.”

He grimanced, eyes back on Steve, “And look here, I got nothing against your parents, but you especially need to be careful. Your dad…” he trailed off, “Your dad won’t be as accepting as me, understand?”

Steve nodded, fully aware of just how unaccepting his dad would be, “Understand.”

“All right then," He slapped his knees, standing up with the kind of old man groan that Eddie would make fun of him for, if he wasn't so choked up.

He looked between the both of them, hands on his hips in a certified exasperated dad stance, "Now you know I love you both right?”

Steve glanced at Eddie, squeezing his hand with a smile. They both looked up at him, simultaneous in their answer, “We love you too.”

sfw version of a future chapter of this fic

[crossedsabers10s]

pookers gimme some words

ive got a vague idea and half a scene?

its supposedddd to be for an AU where Damon and Enzo escaped at the same time in the fifties and eventually caught up with Maggie and Damon just third wheeled for so long it went full tricycle. Fast forward forever and boom sort of canon with a few allowances for Damon being slightly less murderer-y about trying to free Katherine:

It starts off with a brown paper package, innocent and nothing unusual. On her way into the Boarding House, Elena almost trips over it on her way to meet Stefan. Cursing and nursing her stubbed toe, she picks it up and takes it off the porch and into the house rather than leave it to the whims of the already gloomy looking sky. With one last glare, she leaves it on the kitchen counter. 

She promptly forgets about it, even when she and Stefan find another on the porch that afternoon, tagged with international stickers. Assuming Damon ordered something, they bring it in and go back to playfully debating the merits of modern versus older cinema. 

Then the boxes multiply. 

...

“Did a delivery truck throw up in here?” Jeremy asks, staring around at the army of packages covering just about every free surface of the den. Interspersed between antique furniture and every hoarded knickknack deemed worthy of display by various Salvatores sits cardboard containers and crates of various sizes. 

“Reverse robbery?” Caroline theorizes, toeing a particularly beat up looking box. Something inside rattles. She freezes, then slowly withdraws her foot. 

Yet another box under his arm, Stefan returns from answering the door. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he says, words coming out like he suspects that the plague of mystery boxes that has descended onto his house like brown paper packaged locusts will soon consume the entire town, “but I have spoken to way too many delivery people today.”

“I don’t know,” Bonnie says, sitting on a throne made of cardboard, feet kicked up on a crate. “That second to last guy was pretty cute.”

Stefan tosses the box onto a pile in the corner. “You can take over signing for things.”

Bonnie looks contemplative. 

“Have you opened any?” Caroline asks him, looking like she’s two seconds away from finding a box cutter herself. 

“No,” he tells her. “They’re not mine so….”

“They must be Damon’s,” Elena finishes for him, eyes on a sticker that declares one crate to be from Florence. 

“All the more reason to snoop,” Caroline informs them, picking up one of the smaller, shoe-boxed sized ones and shaking it. Nothing shatters, so whatever it is, it’s not easily broken. 

“Until he figures out we opened his stuff and gets his revenge,” Stefan says with the grim certainty of a younger sibling. 

“And it’s an invasion of privacy,” Elena points out. 

“Yeah, but,” Jeremy says, eyeing one of the biggest boxes in the room with unabashed interest. “Would Damon respect your privacy?”

Stefan pauses. 

Elena makes a face. 

Atop her throne, Bonnie snorts. 

Caroline laughs at the very notion. 

“No, actually,” Stefan says after a moment. 

Sensing victory, Caroline waves the box at him. 

He reaches out for it, obviously having deemed whatever revenge Damon will perform worth it. “Fair’s fair.”

Elena says something about not stooping to Damon’s level, but she makes no move to stop them. 

They all relocate to the kitchen, Stefan leading the way, prize in hand, everyone else following after with various levels of pretending not to be curious on their faces. It doesn’t take long to finish clearing a few stray boxes off the table. 

Stefan plops their prize slash possible doom down in the middle. They all crowd around it, snagging front row seats. Despite their curiosity, no one makes a move towards it, each of them just eyeing the perfectly innocent package sitting there. 

After a moment of this, Caroline says, “Someone open it.”

“You open it,” Bonnie tells her, squinting at the box like she’s checking for visible curses. It appears she finds none, as the box remains unblasted into oblivion. 

“What, no way! I mean. I think Stefan should open it.”

Stefan eyes her. “Why me?”

“Because if you open it, you have plausible deniability. They were delivered to your house.”

“I know they’re not mine. Damon will know I know that they’re not mine. Did I tell you about the time he replaced all the decor in my room with taxidermied animals while I slept? Because if I touch his stuff, he’s going to do worse than making me wake up right next to a squirrel forever frozen in agony.”

“Where did he even get all of those?” Elena says hauntedly.

“Wait, wait,” Jeremy says, “when was this? Is this before or after the time he stuck me fifty feet up a pine tree for breathing on his precious bourbon?”

Caroline talks over him. “You were ready to do it a minute ago!”

Stefan grimaces. “That was before I remembered the freaking mountain lion he put in my bathroom.”

From there they open the box to find a bunch of pics and stuff that are basically a lil timeline featuring Damon Maggie and Enzo--including Maggie and Enzo getting married where Damon's best man, a bunch of other cute pics, then eventually they find like. Smuttier ones.

“Pictures!” Caroline repeats, looking for all the world like all she’s missing are a string of pearls to clutch. 

“Did he know?” Elena asks, looking back at the wedding photos, every face in them smiling happily. “God, you don’t think Damon killed him, do you?”

They’re interrupted by Jeremy’s yelp. He slams the picture face down on the table, whites of his eyes visible. “I think he knew!”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, carefully not looking down at the table. “He knew, he definitely knew—hey, I think Elena was right, this is an invasion of privacy, maybe we should—uh. Stop.”

“Please tell me you didn’t find a picture of a corpse,” Stefan says flatly. 

Jeremy shakes his head, hair flopping. “Nope, no corpses. God, I hope there were no corpses.”

“Now I’m curious,” Caroline says. Before Jeremy can yank the photo away, she grabs it. “If Damon didn’t just kill the guy whose wife he was banging, then what—“ She trails off, eyes widening. 

Resigned, Jeremy says, “Vamp speed is cheating.”

Caroline’s not paying him any attention. The rest of the table watches in interest as her jaw drops, both eyebrows raised. She blinks once. Closes her mouth. 

“Well,” she says. Stops. Blinks again and tilts the photo to the side like it will make more sense that way. “Well. Uh. Hm.”

Bonnie starts, “What are you—“

Caroline shushes her. “I’m rearranging my world view, give me a second. You know, this actually explains a few things.”

“Explains what?” Jeremy asks. 

Caroline raises a few fingers. “That thing with Elijah. Whatever he had going on with Alaric—“

“What? No way—Ric’s not—“ Jeremy falters. “You don’t really think…?”

Caroline raises a brow at him. “Drinking buddies?” 

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 2

My last G/t July Prompt that will actually be done in July; Melancholy!

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Word count: 2460

CW: Adult language, mild gore (butchering food, mentions of blood), substances (beer)

My kitchen, thankfully, didn’t look as bad as I had expected in the aftermath of Sal’s butchering. Don’t get me wrong, it still looked like a scaled down horror scene, complete with the bowl filled with various innards and traces of little bloodied hand and foot prints smeared about, but Sal had done a remarkable job keeping the carnage to a minimum. The three or four beers I’d downed while waiting also seemed to have helped mitigate my queasiness. If you squint it's just chicken... just … don’t think too hard.

Instead, I turned my gaze down to the little man on my counter. He was absolutely beaming. With one hand perched on his hip and the other wielding the ridiculously oversized knife, he smiled up at me, clearly proud of his handiwork. He’d shed a layer or two of clothing in the process of butchering and I tried not to dwell on questioning if that was more, or less sanitary. What I did dwell on however, was him. Man, he was a burly little thing… while the sheer difference in size between us made it near impossible to pick up on the finer details of his features without being intimately close, I didn't have to be uncomfortably close to notice he, in spite of his stature, was a sizable man. Lean, and wildly muscular, boasting a broad chest and narrow waist… he could have told me he was an action figure brought to life and I wouldn't have hesitated to believe him.

“I cut, you cook?” The question sounds less like a true question and more akin to instruction. He shifted awkwardly under my gaze.

“Oh- uh, yeah man, sure thing.” While his proficiency in butchering more than surpassed my expectations, I was not about to trust a questionably feral miniature man with any sort of cooking appliances. I eyed the meat cautiously, two main thoughts becoming prominent in my mind; I was not about to cook hawk on any of my pans, and I was most certainly not about to eat it plain.

The weight of his eyes on me was somehow heavier than he himself. I felt him watch as I rummaged through the fridge, pulling out a mishmash of ingredients to make a half-assed gochujang sauce. With a quick wipe down of a section of the counter I took out a second cutting board, dishes be damned, and began to mince some garlic. He took a step back, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He eyed the garlic, among the other ingredients, warily. I smiled to myself. Oh sure, I’m the bad guy for questioning hawk, but garlic is gross? Though, to his credit, he kept his thoughts to himself.

He busied himself with inspecting the various ingredients I’d brought out, padding around each container curiously. He paid particularly close attention as I emptied a sizeable amount of maple syrup into the bowl, lingering just close enough to peer down into the mix.

“Do you want to try some?” I ask, holding up the spoon to him. His eyes bounce between me and the contents of the spoon before he gives in and dips a finger into the mix. The sight of his tiny hand gripping the edge of the spoon was jarring. Ignoring his surroundings he looked so… normal. So human… but seeing him directly contrasted against such a mundane object almost felt like an optical illusion. He examines the sauce for a moment, brow furrowed and nose wrinkled, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. With a small shrug, his curiosity wins over, and he gives the sauce a taste. His face is immediately alight with shock, and he turns to look at me with an expression of awe.

“Uh… you like it?” Instead of a verbal response, he reaches his hand back onto the spoon, taking a near fistful of sauce. I turn my head to avoid him catching sight of the face I pull at the stomach churning image of a full grown man mowing down on sauce as if it's Michelin-Starred decadence. I ignore the soft yelp he makes in protest as I pull the spoon away, and quickly interject before he can voice his disgruntlement .

“So, I’m thinking we cook these up on the barbecue outside.” I say, averting my gaze from the little monstrosity and the plethora of grotesque slurping sounds coming from his general direction as he licks his fingers clean. Sal makes a sort of hum in agreement. Had he washed his hands after butchering the hawk? I suppress a gag. I needed another drink. Stuffing a few beers under one arm, I haphazardly gathered up the sauce, tongs and meat with my free hand. With my arms more than a little full, I cast my gaze down to Sal,

“Uh, I’ll just set this up outside and then come ba-”

He jumped.

Had my reaction time been any better I’m sure I would have flinched out of the way of the tiny man throwing himself off the counter towards me, but instead all I managed was a yelp in surprise. He caught two handfuls of my shirt fabric and climbed up my midsection with an uncanny speed that could put a seasoned rockclimber to shame. The feeling of such a small and fast moving being freely skittering up my body made my skin crawl. He situated himself near the crook of my arm, a little too suspiciously close to the sauce for my liking, and patted my arm as if I were a horse he was kicking into gear.

---

What a way to travel! I couldn’t help but stare in absolute wonder as the ground flew by, with Mark seemingly moving slow yet covering such boggling distances with each step. This was exhilarating! My heart raced in my chest, and as I leaned back against Mark, I noticed with a bit of a chuckle, so did his.

He made his way out to the porch towards some large metal contraption he had referred to as a bar-bah-kyou? I hopped off onto what seemed like a sort of counter top jutting out from the barbah-thingy’s side as he emptied his arms. As I approached the vaguely tank-like structure, Mark fiddled with something beneath the machine. Upon examination, the barbah-thingy had a handle on the front as well as an assortment of dials lining its base. As I made my way closer, Mark’s hand tentatively blocked my path. I shot him a glare as he pushed me back, and he returned an apologetic smile.

“Uh, just… stand back a little.” He pressed a button. An almost insectoid clicking sound emanated from the machine. There was a whoosh, followed by a sudden increase in heat as the machine was somehow brought to life. Grinning, Mark opened up the tank-thing to show off the flames roaring up inside.

Well, that was certainly easier than rubbing sticks together.

Before I could get a closer look, he closed the lid.

“It's gotta heat up a bit before we're good.” I snorted. It seemed plenty hot to me, but he was in charge of cooking, so I wasn’t about to be fussy. He offered his hand, and I swung myself on, only to immediately be set down on a table between two wooden chairs, with Marking dropping himself into the chair to my left. He stared down at me for a moment before reaching for another one of the metallic cans.

The can made an odd hissing sound as Mark pried open the lid. As he took a swig from the can, I inspected the collection of its unopened brethren beside me. The cans were cool to the touch, with little beads of moisture forming along their surface. The muggy summer air loomed around me, tempting me to lean against the chilled metal surface of the can, but I decided against the potential social faux pas. There were mountains decorating the can, along with bright red letters. It had been a while since I'd seen human writing, especially the squiggly kind, and I wracked my brain trying to place the sounds to the letters. C…ow… ers? C-oo..wers? I felt my brow furrow in frustration. A contented sigh from Mark interrupted my attempts to decode his drink.

“What’re you drinking?” Mark looked a little caught off guard. He chuckled.

“It’s beer.” Beer? Man I was way off on my human spelling. Yikes. “Do you, uh... want some?”

The thought of the cool condensation made that an easy and enthusiastic yes from me. He reached for his can and hesitated. A wide smile formed on his face as he stood. I suppressed the urge to take a step back at his sudden movement. Fuck was he ever big.

“Sick. Lemme go get you a glass.”

Mark returned with a glass that was somehow comically small pinched between his massive fingers, yet within my own hands seemed more like a hefty bucket. Although the bucket-glass would undoubtedly be a bit of a challenge to drink from, I wasn't about to complain about getting more than my fair share of a cool drink.

As he filled my glass he cast me a wary gaze,

“Um, Sal? Have you … had alcohol before?”

“I thought this was beer.” He snorted. I had no idea why his mistake was so funny.

“I guess that's a no?” I shrugged. How could I know if I’d had it if I didn’t know what it tasted like. He laughed again and I smiled, albeit a bit nervously. What was so funny to him?

“Um.. it makes you feel good. Um, almost tingly? But if you have a lot it makes you feel a bit slow and your thoughts feel a bit…um, weird. It lowers inhibitions and-” he prattled on about how this “special drink” would make you feel, but all I could think of was how cool the glass felt against the palms of my hand. The liquid was a warm amber colour filled with bubbles that collected into a soft layer of foam at the top. It hissed quietly as the bubbles rose to the surface. A cool drink that made you feel good? Fine by me. With a bit more effort than would be desirable I lifted the drink to my lips and took a long chug. The size of the glass paired with its awkward weight made trying to control the flow of the liquid a borderline impossible task. As I tilted the glass I got a cool shock as the beer splashed against the entirety of my face, and given the heat, I really had no complaints. The bubbles were strange and stung at my throat but the strangely crisp taste was invigorating. I gulped greedily, not bothered that beer was running down my neck. The change in temperature from the spill was a welcome one.

“Woah, dude” Mark chuckled, placing the tip of his finger on the edge of my glass to guide it away from my face, “Pace yourself.” I shot him a glare, but couldn’t help letting a smirk escape. I held up my glass, making a show of comparing it to his own,

“I think if I’m pacing myself with you I’m still a ways behind.” He shook his head, laughing, and took a long sip from his drink. I did the same. This was nice. The summer heat felt almost enjoyable with his company, especially with the beer included in the equation.

“So… Have you been here long?” I cocked my head, unsure of what he meant, “Um…you know, in the area.” He clarified as he gestured to the expanse of his yard. I stared ahead, feeling as though if I stared hard enough I’d be able to look back through the years I’d been here.

“Yeah, it's been a while.” I took another sip.

“Do you like it here?” That question, casual as it may be, caught me off-guard. Did I like it here? This area was familiar. I’d been in the same spot far longer than I could remember. From the perspective of the porch I felt I could look out at the yard and see the memories that littered what had become my "home range"… The tree I’d climbed when a particularly bad storm had flooded the yard… the spot right below where a squirrel had chased me from their cache… the lattice work right beneath the window where I used to climb to - I shook the memories away.

“It’s home.”

I felt a strange yet familiar feeling claw at the edges of my mind. An emptiness… A total lack of… something. I took another sip, hoping to drown the thoughts, and with any luck, maybe find what I was missing at the bottom of my glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark smile, though it didn’t quite reach the rest of his face. He heaved a weary sigh before speaking, a sound that conveyed far more to me than whatever words would follow.

“I hope it’ll start to feel like home for me soon.” He stood, making his way to the fire-tank-thing. The sun had come close to setting, leaving the sky ablaze with warm hues- a stunning display of pinks and golds igniting the horizon. Mark stood out against the backdrop, shrouded in shadow, more like a part of the treeline than a living being… he was fucking massive- no... It wasn’t him that was massive…something deep within the recesses of my brain resented seeing him like that… I took another deep sip from the glass, flushing the thought from my mind. I closed my eyes and leaned back, listening to the sounds of birds in the air, and breathing in the smell of meat roasting above a flame. Though the summer heat was waning, it was as if an ember was being stoked from within my core. A persistent warmth seemed to be rising up from within, as if the very essence of the season had somehow been ignited in my soul. I felt… good.

With my eyes closed I could picture what it would be like… just sitting in the chair to my right, cold can of beer in hand… looking out across a yard I could clear in a handful of strides… Mark sitting down in the chair to my left, not looking down, but instead looking at me. I didn’t care so much for the specifics of the imagery my brain has conjured up… but more so what it seemed to represent in my mind. The image felt close… comfortable, whereas I … when I opened my eyes I felt so far away.

I took another drink.