#elmer babe i'm sorry

[dustyy-angel]

The Best Newsies Thing Competition

[luvfy0dor]

“And I Need You Like a Heartbeat ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Nikolai Gogol, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings: probably ooc, loosely proofread

Description: Valentine's drabbles with my fav BSD boys ♡⁠˖

A/n; HAPPY (technically early) VALENTINES DAYYYYY!!!! When I talk about chocolate I'm talking about Elmer's chocolate because it's literally so good, dare I say it rivals terrys oranges and I'm a ride or die for those. Also the pink theme is staying for a while bc i really love it.

⑅Nikolai Gogol⑅

→ Nikolai always made an attempt to truly 'woo' you on Valentine's day, he couldn't help himself! He had so much love to share with you, and how lucky he feels that there's an entire holiday just for going all out. He makes sure it's extra special, even though every other day of the year he showers you with his love for you.

Nikolai thought about all of your favorite things while he stood in a store picking out a card and gift for you. He wanted a silly but meaningful one, and that proved really difficult to find, so he decided to come back to it after grabbing you some chocolates. He wanted to get you the biggest box of chocolates possible, and if not that every single small box he could get his hands on. It either had to be comically large or a comically large amount. He grinned immediately when he saw the 72 piece heart shaped box of chocolates. He grabbed three of them excitedly, hoping you'd be ecstatic to receive 216 chocolates. He also wanted to get you flowers, so he made his way to the floral area of the store, picking out a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses with some babies breath in between the flowers. He walked to self checkout and paid for his gifts for you, having decided to hand-make you a card out of card stock when he got home- that way he could make it as silly and genuine as he wanted.

Nikolai walked out of the store, his arms full until he opens his portal to set everything inside the car before he gets there. It allows him to reach into his pocket and unlock the car, quickly getting in and starting it while rubbing his arms to fend off the cold. He shivers before stretching out his arms and backing out of his parking spot, leaving the lot and heading home. He calmly hummed along to the radio until he reached your house, hopping out of the car and using his portal to gently set everything inside. Once he got inside, he immediately found the pens and papers, starting to write out his card to you. He drew intricate flowers on the white paper, coloring the organic shapes in with pink colored pencil. He wrote your name on it in scripty handwriting and used some red lip gloss to leave a kiss mark. He giggled with excitement and set up all of your gifts in a cutsey array before watching out the window for your car to pull into the driveway. When it finally did, he jumped up, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling from leaping so high. He walked to the door, unlocking it, opening it, and embracing you before you could even stick your key in the lock.

"Kolya, oh my gosh-!" You said, caught a little off guard by it, but you hugged him back. He kissed your cheek and pulled you inside, spinning you around and placing a proper kiss on your lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, darlin'!" He grinned as he spoke, his thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. "Thanks babe, you snatched me inside so quickly I couldn't even grab your gift that I put down-" you're cut off by Nikolais enthusiastic voice. "Oh, speaking of which! Sorry for cuttin' you off, but I've got a gift for you too!" He grabs your hand and leads you to the dining room where he had your array of things. He grabbed the flowers and held them out to you. You were a little stunned, but gratefully accepted them into your arms. "Kolya, those are so beautiful! Thank you, babe!" You hugged him tightly, noticing all the large heart shaped boxes of chocolate.

"And I also got you these and this card." He says, handing you the card and gesturing to the big boxes of chocolate. You immediately start to laugh. "Is something wrong?" He asks, a small amount of worry laced into his tone. You shook your head and walked to the door, opening it and grabbing the same box of chocolates off of the stairs. "I got the same ones for you!" You hand them to him. Nikolais laughter joins your own, but yours quiets down while you read the heartfelt card. Nikolai knew all the words to use to make your heart swoon. You set it down gently on the table and pulled Nikolai in for a kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist. "Mmn, thank you, Kolya. So much." You say, giving his pretty, pink lips one more peck and leaning your head in the crook of his neck. "Any time, sweetheart." He hums in satisfaction before a thought dawns on him. "Do you wanna watch movies and eat some of this chocolate for dinner instead of cooking?" You nod exasperatedly. "That sounds perfect right now." You extracted yourself from the hug and walked towards the couch, your boyfriend in tow with one of the boxes of chocolate. He put on a cheesy rom-com, the both of you laughing at the cheap jokes while snacking on the chocolates together- what a perfect Valentine's Day evening. ♡⁠˖

⑅Dazai Osamu⑅

→ Dazai gets really romantical, going as far as to cook a full meal for you. He puts his heart and soul into the dish, wanting you to come home to a relaxing and loving evening with the love of your life. He plates the food he spent oh so long on and lights the candles while waiting for you. He fixed his hair in one of the mirrors and hung up his apron that you gifted him in attempt to spark his culinary creativity more, and it surely did. He decided to really experiment tonight, after all, love was about taking chances, no?

His posture stiffened when he heard your keys in the apartment door right before you let yourself in. He walked out to greet you, noticing your tired demeanor. It all seemed to subside when you set eyes on him, though. "Hey, 'Samu. Happy Valentine's day." You said, your voice engaging rather than monotonous. You loosely draped your arms around his was and breathes in his scent. "Hey, babe." He greeted you, planting a kiss on the top of your head. "I made dinner for us. Filet mignon." He proudly says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You raise an eyebrow but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You didn't think Dazai was the worst cook because he definetly did have his moments, he was just a little... unpredictable, per say. You walked into the dining room with him and can immediately smell strong amounts of cinnamon. You raised an eyebrow, but chalked it up to the candle on the table. When you sat down and observed the food, though, you realized that the smell was not in fact the candle and Dazai had coated the steak in cinnamon.

You stared at it for a moment. "Oh wow, Osamu, that's really thoughtful of you. I appreciate the dinner." He smiled at your thanks, grabbing his fork and cutting a piece of it. "I know it looks a little interesting, but you gotta take risks and try new things in life, babe." He says matter of factly, bringing the cinnamon coated meat to his mouth and eating it. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you cut a piece off and brought it to your mouth. "'Samu, I'm sorry, I can't eat cinnamon on this." You say, reverting your attention back to him. You can't help but feel amused when you see his scrunched up nose and grimace. "Yeah, you know, I can't either. Oh, I'm sorry I ruined our romantic Valentine's Day dinner." He apologizes. "I got you some chocolates that I could feed you instead?" He proposes with a grin. His bony fingers hold up the heart shaped box of sweets while you nod in agreement. "That sounds great, actually, but you should probably brush your teeth first, that must taste disgusting."

It wasn't long before you were sitting on Dazais lap, your hands on his shoulder while he holds up a chocolate to your mouth, giggling with you while you talk with eachother about their memories and dates in the spirit of Valentine's Day. His other hand massaged your thigh while he listened to you talk, your voice like music to his ears. "That was a fun date, wasn't it?" He laughs, patting your thigh while you swallow a piece of chocolate. "Is it good?" He asks you, a small grin on his face. "Mhm, real good. Wanna try one?" You offer. Your arm extends over to the box of chocolates and you hold one up for your boyfriend to eat. He shakes his head and gently pushes your hand away, cupping your cheek with his own. "Oh no, babe, those are for you. If I really want to, I can taste one without eating one." He says, leaning in and kissing you. His lips were chapped but pleasantly familiar, and his tongue slipped into your mouth the first chance he got.

The both of you mutually pulled away for air after a hot second, Dazais cheeks red with blush and his hands on your hips. A small grin remained on his face and with a squeeze of your side, he opened his mouth to speak. "See? They taste great. I should buy some for myself. Or maybe I could just keep doing that- save some money, y'know?" He teases. You roll your eyes and peck his lips one more time, running your hands through his hair. "Save some money for us by not dumping a shit ton of cinnamon on filet mignon and wasting it." You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your hand over his chest to feel his heartbeat.

⑅Fyodor Dostoevsky⑅

→ Fyodor decides that the perfect way to spend Valentine's Day with his beloved partner was by taking a bath with you. He filled the bath tub with warm water, watching the mirror fog up as the water rose. He even added some bubbles because he knew it would be to your liking, as well as some essential oils. His sleeves were rolled up from checking the waters temperature when he walked out to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine for both himself and you. He carried them to the bathroom with confidence where he found you digging through the drawers of the sink. "What are you looking for, Moya Lyubov?" He handed a cup to you and you sipped on it, letting out a satisfied hum at the familiar taste. "Mn-, nothing, just a face mask. Wanna do one with me when I find the stuff I need?" You ask, continuing your search him the next drawer down. "I don't see why not, just hurry up before out bath gets cold." He smiled and leaned down to kiss your cheek. He only removed his shirt before you stood back upright, facemask and applicator in hand. "Found it! Come here, Fedya, I wanna do you first."

You twist the cap off of the container and dip the applicator in, getting product on the silicone end. He complied with your words and stepped towards you, leaning you against the sink counter top with his hand on the small of your back. You gently applied the face mask to your lovers skin, watching his eyebrows furrow at the chill of the product with amusement. "Cold?" You lightly teased. His nose scrunched up and he hummed in response. "Mhm." He seemed like he was about to knock out standing there, very tired looking. You quickly finished the application and patted his shoulder. "Don't fall asleep yet, we haven't even got in the tub." You say. He laughs and takes the jar and applicator from your hands. "I was not sleeping." His grin was wide and he put the gel on your face, too. "Well you looked tired."

He finishes your mask and now both of your faces has a green tint to them with a tingly feeling on your skin. You both strip down and get into the tub, the warm water engulfing your bodies as you sit facing Fyodor, holding his hand under the water while the other hand held your glass. The both of you sipped on your drinks and talked about your dinner plans for the night. You decided to stay in and order cake out because brothers of you really wanted to cook. You spent thirty minutes in the tub together, switching from your position of facing each other to you sitting in between Fyodors legs with your back to his chest while you played with his hair. He enjoyed your touch, your fingertips gliding across his scalp felt better than anything else in the world at the moment. His hand went up and down your shoulder and arm lovingly, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of your head or grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips. He would murmur soft, accented 'i love you's and praises during soft moments like these.

Soon enough, the two of you stood up from the bath and stepped out of the tub, drying off and getting dressed again. Fyodor wore pajama pants and a sweatshirt while you wore some sweatpants and a tank top. You immediately ordered your food and laid down in bed with Fyodor while you waited. You were both watching some random rom-com that sounded only remotely interesting, but your boyfriend must have found it less than enthralling because within a few minutes, you could hear him snoring right behind you with his arm still draped over your waist. You giggled and rolled over to face him, sighing quietly. "I guess I'm gonna have to get up and get the food, huh?" You murmured to yourself, brushing his bangs out of his face while he snoozed. A smile formed on your face because of how cute Fyodor looked, unable to resist yourself from kissing his head a couple times. "I love you, Fedya. Happy Valentine's Day." You whispered.

A/n; Hiiii , I know I like, never post two days in a row, but it's Valentine's day so there's an exception.

[positivelybeastly]

🎥 filming or making a sexy movie - NSFWS prompt for Hank/Simon!

"All right, so - run this by us again, Simon? Just so we're all sure we're understanding what you're asking for? Because it sounds a little kooky."

Simon Williams had faced down Count Nefaria in single combat. Simon Williams knew what it felt like to taste death's embrace. Simon Williams knew what it felt like to feel your body change into something wholly unrecognisable, for every cell to be scrubbed and changed and ionised.

Simon Williams had thought he had known fear.

But as it turned out, all of that was nothing compared to the way Janet and Wanda were looking at him, as dubious as could be, as he explained, for the second time (and the first time had been agonising enough), what exactly he needed help with.

"It's an audition tape - I need help, with an audition tape, for this role, and if I get it, it means I get to work with a really prestigious French director! It's just that, the scene they've sent over is a little risqué, and I don't really feel comfortable doing it with anyone but you two. It isn't a sex thing! I swear, on all that's holy, that this isn't a sex thing. I really do just - need help with an audition tape."

The instant he heard Hank's voice, he knew he'd made a mistake having this conversation somewhere as public as the Mansion, even if he had gone to the effort of closing the door to the meeting room and signalling that a briefing was in progress.

"Oooh, audition tape, Wondy? What's this one for? Uncle Elmer get a spin-off show? You gonna get hit in the face with a crepe this time?"

Chuckling at his own joke, Hank bounded up onto the light fixture and promptly slid down so that he was hanging by two toes, crossing his arms and looking between Wanda and Janet in the hopes of a laugh, but they both looked too confused to give him one, so he just looked at Simon instead.

"What? Wrong pastry item? Pancake, flapjack, waffle, what? What?"

"Allegedly the scene they want for it is a little risqué, Hank."

Hank gave him a lascivious smile and Simon dug his palm into his glasses with a groan.

"Aw-riiiight, Wondy, I see you've finally been learning a few lessons from ol' Hankster's Big Book of Babes! I thought it'd take you a while to really internalise lesson 32: come up with bizarre but just feasible enough scenarios that justify some alooooone time, but you got it down pat, nice."

The look that Wanda and Janet gave him could have cut even his indestructible form to shreds, and he was very, very tempted to reach his hands up and wrap them around that fuzzy blue neck until that big dumb smile stopped.

". . . If that is what this is, Wonder Man, then you may count me out."

"Yeah, no, sorry, Simon, but I'm not that kind of a floozy, and honestly, shame on you for even trying a crummy line on us like that. We're meant to be your friends, and you're gonna creep on us? Gross."

"No! No, wait, that's not what - !"

Even with his vaunted superhuman agility, Simon reached the door to the briefing room a fraction of a second too late, and he turned around with a look of blazing ionic fury (again, just a fraction of a second too late to catch a certain look on Hank's face) to see his alleged best friend picking up the mail he'd received from his agent and going through it as casually as you please.

"Beast. You have five seconds to get running."

"Who needs five seconds? Wondy, you should be thanking me."

He had to admit, it wasn't the tack he'd expected from Hank, to just be brazen about it, but -

"Did you actually read this letter, or didja just skim it?"

Hank was holding it up with an amused, smug little grin on his face - the one Simon hated, that screamed, 'I know something yoooou don't,' that usually got the little blue miscreant belted clear across the city by whatever threat they were facing that day.

"Of course I - read the letter, what are you - ?"

"Wondy, the cast list for the scene they've sent you is for two guys named Jean and Philippe."

Simon shut up. Hank took that as an invitation and cleared his throat.

"'Ours is a love that dares not speak its name, Jean - the love between a man and his best friend, another man, it is not meant for the world, but only for u - '"

"All right, Hank, I think I get it."

"Do ya? I could keep going. It's a lil' trite, this dialogue, but - "

"Yeah, you can drop it. You can drop it."

Simon rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration, feeling very much the fool and wondering just how he could have been so colossal of an idiot that he'd managed to completely bungle what he thought was a prime gig AND pissed off both Wanda and Janet.

Would they even believe the explanation? Probably not. He collapsed into his chair, the red W on the back turning away from Hank as he tried not to feel too sorry for himself, only to immediately feel too sorry for himself.

"It's not the end of the world, yanno, Wondy." Hank was ridiculously light on his feet for someone so big, and it was only because Simon was so used to the sound that he could pick up on the soft little pads of him scooching by on the table. Simon still refused to look up.

"You can still do the tape."

All right, that got him to look up, raw annoyance bursting from him, the ionic spillover from his eyes painting a red smear of light into the air as he rounded on his - again, alleged - best friend.

"What in the world do you mean, I can still do the tape? I'm not gay, Hank."

There was a puckish grin on Hank's face as he looked at Simon, upside down, handstanding on the table, his free hand still clutching the letter.

"So? You weren't a spec ops Navy otter or whatever it was on your last gig - "

"Navy SEAL, Hank, I was Navy SEAL #2 - "

"And you weren't actually Mr. Muscles, either! Acting's all about assuming a role, right, becoming someone you're not? So why's this gotta be the big dividing line? You aren't homophobic, are you, Wondy?"

"Of course I'm not homophobic!"

"Then what's the big deal? You're not gonna get very far in show biz if you aren't willing to expand your repertoire, Wondy. It's all very well if they want you to play Spaceman Spiff, Avengering will give you that on a plate, but what if they want you to play - whatzit, that movie with Colin Firth, the gay one?"

"The what one?"

"The gay Colin Firth movie! Come on, you didn't see it? It got him nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actor!"

Suddenly, Simon thought that maybe he could be gay.

ON CAMERA.

On camera, he could be gay.

"A Single Man, that was it. So, how's about it? I'll play Phillipe, you can play Jean, we'll grab other Hank's camcorder and we'll get you an audition tape by tomorrow afternoon."

"Wait, you'll - ?"

Hank arched an eyebrow at him.

"Where else are you gonna find a thespian around here, Wondy? I don't do it so much anymore, but when I first joined the team, I was all about disguises, impressions, all that good stuff. I've already memorised my lines, so here ya go!"

He planted the script pages directly on to Simon's face and flipped off the table onto his feet with a light footed bounce, humming merrily as he left the briefing room. The pages of the script peeled away from the actor's face, plopping into his lap, and Simon watched him go with a throat that wasn't just dry because it was ionic.

Right.

Okay.

Acting out a gay . . . scene, with Hank.

This would be fine, right?

***

"Wondy, what is with you?"

"What do you mean, what's with me?! What's with you?! You're crawling all over me like I'm Whirlwind coming up the Avengers lawn!"

"That's what the script directions says Phillipe does, man!"

"I know!"

"If you know, then why are you being so weird about it?!"

Simon hissed and moved away, pulling the covers up self-consciously around him while Hank got the hint and rolled off the bed with a sigh, rubbing at his temple.

"You didn't mention that it was a gay sex scene, Hank."

"Wondy, I said it was a gay scene, what did you think was gonna be gay about it? Did you think the set directions called for all the furniture to be pink and I'd be wearing lipstick, like, what?"

Hank grabbed the script directions and idly flipped through them again as Simon spluttered.

"And anyway, it's not even really a sex scene, there's not even full penetration - the director you really want to impress is French, but he's not that French. If you want that kind of French, you want to be looking at, like, Jean-Jacques Annaud or Pascale Ferran, I guess."

Simon was going insane. He was absolutely certain he was going insane.

"Why. Do you know. French erotic film directors by name?"

Hank blinked at him.

"Wondy, I'm a man of culture. I will watch Dr. David Bowman get pulled through a kooky intergalactic phenomena just as easily as I'll watch Lady Chatterley get the dick she's owed, because that's what it means to be an open minded, liberal patron of the arts."

Simon screamed. Hank jumped.

"Jeez Louiiiiise, Wondy, pipe down! Next thing you know there'll be - "

A knock at the door. Simon moved to get out of the bed and stop him, but Hank had already swung the door wide open, grinning like a loon at -

"Shellhead! Wassup?"

". . . Beast? Why was someone screaming in your - "

"Wondy and I are filming a gay sex scene audition tape and he's being a wuss about it."

Hank hadn't even finished his sentence before Iron Man upped, turned around and walked away, grumbling in electronically modulated monotone about the two men being the biggest pair of idiots he'd ever known. Simon would have dug his thumbs into his eyes if he didn't know it would do less than nothing, so instead he settled for glaring ionic daggers at Hank as he closed the door and sauntered back over to his desk to sit down, plucking a bag of malted chocolate candy out of a drawer.

"Why are you being like this?"

Hank gave him a perplexed look as he leaned back on his chair, one foot keeping him dangling precariously while he juggled chocolates and occasionally threw one into his mouth before adding another one back into the rotation.

"Being like - snrff - what, Wondy? Being flip? Is that what - grphm - offends you so much? Lighten up! It's just acting, man! It isn't real, it doesn't mean anything, you're just putting yourself into a certain mindset and letting it all play out from there. It doesn't say anything about who you are or what you're really like, it's just a performance."

A silence descended over the two of them, and Hank eventually realised he'd said something wrong, guzzling down the last of the chocolates he'd been juggling and moving over to where Simon was sitting, tense and annoyed and just a little bit upset.

". . . I said something wrong, didn't I?"

Silence.

". . . All right, let's see. You don't like that I'm not taking this all that seriously, you give me the silent treatment when I say that it doesn't mean anything, and you keep getting weird every time that I touch you on the chest, even though you know it's coming."

"Hank."

"You tense up every time I call you by your character's name, even though you have absolutely no problem calling me by mine; the first try we did of this, you grabbed me a little too hard and when I made a noise, you freaked out."

"Hank, shut up."

"But you don't want us to actually stop, and every time I tell you that I'm fine with you doing this with someone else if that's the problem, you act like - oh."

A very different silence fell upon them now. Hank stared at him very closely now, and even though the camera was still on, still blaring that little red light indicating that it was recording, that wasn't what was making Simon shy.

". . . Hey, look. I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry, Simon."

The silence continued, and the fuzzy blue clown squirmed in it, realising only now just what he'd done.

"Acting . . . doesn't mean the same thing it does to you as it does to me, does it. For me, it's just - pantomime, a role and a character and you just step right in. A change of clothes. But you, actually, want it to be about some kind of truth, don't you? You want there to be a - realism, to it, yeah? You don't just want the lines to come up from the diaphragm, you want them to come up from the heart, too."

He brought a hand up to rest gently on Simon's arm, rubbing softly as the man stared resolutely into the sheets of Hank's bed. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, just quiet, barely moving.

What was it? Maybe just an intrusive thought? Maybe it was courage? Maybe it was truth breaking out of the surface? Maybe. Hank would swear it was just - dramatic inspiration.

"Ours is a love that dares not speak its name, Jean - the love between a man and his best friend, another man, it is not meant for the world, but only for us. In this moment, it is for us."

Maybe it was just the weirdness of hearing Hank talk like that, without that look on his face this time. Maybe it was an actor's desire to just get the scene over and done with. Maybe Hank just nailed the line this time through. But regardless of what it was, Simon found himself looking back at his best friend.

"'We can have this?'"

The softest of touches at his face, feather light and warm, and Hank was smiling at him. "'We can have this, Jean. Believe me when I say that we can have this. We can go back to acting that it isn't the case when we leave this room.'"

The dialogue was corny as all hell. Sure, maybe the director was top notch, but whoever the writer was, they definitely weren't. They knocked this together over an afternoon, puffing cigarettes and wanting to be done as soon as possible, Simon was sure of it.

"'And if, when we leave this room, I do not wish for us to go back to acting? What then? If, in a moment when I catch you smiling, I am consumed with the need for you, what then? If, in a moment when you look at me and you complete me, I am consumed with the want of you, what then? If, in a moment, and it will be every moment, I am desolate without you?'"

Hank swallowed thickly. He - wasn't quite used to take things seriously.

"'Then the moments will come, and they will go. If they must.'"

He certainly wasn't used to seeing Simon's eyes like this, without that familiar red crackle, just - soft, and warm. He always thought of Simon as being so much older than him just because of the way he talked, the way he was, the way he looked at a '50s Caddy whenever they passed one on the street, but he really wasn't.

"'That is not good enough. Not for me, and certainly not for you. We deserve this. We deserve every moment. We deserve one another. We deserve every waking hour to be spent in truth, not in deceit.'"

God, this dialogue.

"'Jean. You know what the truth of us is. It's in this. It's in our touch, it's in our way of being. We don't need the world to know. And if you wish to speak of truth, then know my truth, which is that I - I need you. I need you now. And I am quite sick of talking about what will come next when we could be dealing with now. When we could be enjoying now.'"

Whether the heat and the hunger and the desperate, sloppy, immediate way that Simon grasped Hank's jaw was in the script was a matter for another time, but neither man was particularly interested in the script of an overblown erotica at that moment in time.

They had touched before, of course. They had palled around, thrown their arms around one another, being thrown into one another, Hank had clambered onto Simon's back like a monkey climbing a tree - and didn't that behaviour have an all new shine to it now - but even though they had long since become aware of the odd equilibrium that their bodies reached when they came together, they had never quite known it like this.

Simon was cold - the inevitable end result of being, in his way, alive and dead, a being of pure ionic energy, a maelstrom of essential particles that somehow coalesced into a thirty something year old man with a screwed up family history and a brain full of memories that were years out of date. How could he not be cold?

Hank was warm - the inevitable end result of being, in his way, human and inhuman, an expression of unbridled genetic mutation, a surging forward of DNA that somehow coalesced into a twenty something furry blue beast with a constant smile and more jokes than sense, even despite his prodigious brain. How could he not be warm?

And now, as they touched each other, they reached that perfect equilibrium, Simon feeling a warmth that only a thoroughly human beast could bring while Hank was soothed by a cool that only an ionic wonder man could provide. Their lips met, Hank bringing a muscular, fuzzy arm up to wrap possessively around Simon's neck, his hand resting on the small of his back and stroking as he nipped and bit and teased at the other man's lips, curious to see if he could invite him into snapping back.

"Hank, stop that, it's like you're trying to eat me - "

"Uh-uh-uh, I thought I was meant to be Phillipe, and this is exactly what the script directions say Phillipe does."

They did not, for the record.

But Simon just . . . didn’t have it in him to correct him. Or maybe he conveniently forgot. Or maybe there was a part of him that finally didn’t feel anxious, or worried, or out of place, or alone. Maybe there was a part of him that felt . . .

Like it wanted to bite Hank back.

“Mnph! Y-You vicious brute~!” There was a salacious delight to Hank’s voice now, a humour tinged with undeniably aroused awe, and Simon found it in him to smirk - he wasn’t a man who smirked, not remotely, not once, not ever, but right now, he couldn’t not - as he held Hank in his arms.

“Oh, you think that was me being a brute? C’mere - “

*~*

It was hours later, when Simon found himself awake and with a limpet of a beast clinging to him, when the camcorder ran out of space on the memory card. It beeped in annoyance, startling the wonder man, and it was as he looked nervously back over to the gadget that he realised it had captured . . . well.

All of it.

Yeah, that had been . . . all of it, all right . . .

Had this been a mistake? He didn’t think so. It didn’t feel like a mistake. He looked down at a remarkably young looking Hank McCoy, nestled against his bosom, at a Hank who wasn’t switched on, who was just . . . still, and quiet, and calm, and he knew that nothing about this was a mistake. Not really.

He wasn’t going to send that tape in. No way, not a chance in hell.

Sure, Hank would probably joke that it was one hell of an audition, maybe even purr that Simon had given an Oscar worthy performance, but . . . no. This was a moment for them, and them alone.

. . . Although . . .

Simon didn’t think he’d mind keeping the video. For himself.

For purely sentimental reasons, of course.

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Elmer Kasprzak Likes Redheads

...

It was clear to Elmer that Albert was upset about something.

It was also clear that he was going to do everything in his power to make Albert feel better.

"Hi Al!" Elmer said, approaching a distraught-looking Albert.

"Hi." He replied in a small voice.

"What's wrong?"

"That obvious, huh?" Albert let out a sad laugh.

"Well, kind of-"

Albert cut Elmer off with a quick but not at all hesitant kiss. Something to feel something. Anything other than this hurt.

"Make it better, Elly."

What the actual heck was that for does he know or is he just looking for a make-out buddy what happened to him what is happening-

Elmer kissed Albert again. "Okay, Allie."

...

Two weeks later, the two are actually together, and it's common knowledge.

Well, to everybody but Race.

"Are they going out?" Race asked Spot, looking at the two from across the ice rink, holding hands and laughing as Elmer struggled to stay on his feet.

"Yeah? They have been for a minute now."

"Oh. I thought..."

"You thought what?"

"Nothing. Doesn't matter." Race plastered on a smile. "Let's skate!"

"Hey, we're gonna talk about this first. What exactly did you think?"

"It's really nothing. Just, Albert told me something-"

"That he loves you? He finally got the guts to do it?"

"Yeah- wait, what?"

"Everyone knew."

"Really?"

"Everyone thought you loved him, too."

"I, but, but I love you."

"It's allowed to love more than one person you know? I'm not saying that you do. Love more than one person I mean, I'm just saying it's allowed."

"Oh."

"And it wouldn't bother me in the slightest. He's cute. Elmer's cute. I love you and you're cute. It's not weird."

"But-"

"Race, if you love him, just tell him."

"I... Okay. I think I do. I really think I love him. I think I'll tell him."

"Go, get your man." Spot smiled.

"No, you're my man. If I still have Albert, he'll be my twink."

Spot laughed and pushed Race forward a little bit on the ice.

"I believe in you, babe."

...

So Race skated toward Albert and Elmer, who were finding their rhythm.

"Albie!" Race yelped as he realized he wasn't going to stop.

But it was too late. Albert and Race crashed, somehow not bringing Elmer down with them.

Race and Albert didn't know, but Elmer just smiled skated off to join Spot.

"Race, what the hell?" Albert asked, trying to get out from under Race.

Race scrambled to his feet and helped Albert up.

"So what was that?"

"I love you." Race said. "I love you, and I love Spot, and I'm sorry for acting the way I did, I'm so sorry. I love you."

Albert froze (and not just because he was on ice). "Really?" He whispered.

"Really."

Spot Conlon Likes Idiots

Inspired by @lithuaniaseye 's post here

606 words

Farm kid Race written by actual farm kid Albert (hi)

...

...

It wasn't news that Race was a farm kid. 

Race was the ultimate  farm kid. He was tall, and skinny, and appeared to have no muscle at all, but he could toss you over a fence like a hay bale. He wore Twisted X shoes and faded boot cut jeans and shirts with American flags and guns on them. He carried his pocket knife around religiously, constantly fiddling with it like it was a toy. He could ride a horse, and he could try (and fail) to ride a bull in a rodeo. 

He was also really gay, though, and those two things happened to not go very well together. 

Not necessarily because of hate, although sometimes that did occur.

Mostly, being a gay farm boy was a problem for Race because he had a tendency to flirt with his farmer-ness. 

"It's gonna work this time, Jack." Race said certainly. 

"You look like you're gonna go kick his ass. Which you couldn't do, by the way. Spot's like, ten times stronger than you." Jack replied. 

"I just want to ask him to come to the rodeo with us, is it really that bad?"

"What's bad is that Spot's a city kid, and you ain't, and you dress like all those homophobic shitheads over there while Spot's openly bi. Do you understand what's gonna go through his head, Racer?"

"Do you want me to paint my nails or some bullshit? I don't gotta 'look gay,' whatever that means."

"Actually. I'm gonna make a bet with you here. You're gonna ask him out, to the rodeo. If he says no, you are  going to paint your nails. If he says yes, which he won't, then I will. Left on for a week. Deal?"

"No deal. If you paint your nails when ya lose, nobody will notice. You are the most obviously queer person in this room right now. If you lose, you're gonna wear my clothes for a week."

"I ain't losing, so. Sure thing."

The two boys shook on it. Race took a breath and turned to go, but...

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Race plucked a barley stalk out of the ground and stuck it in his mouth like-

"One of them damn buckle bunnies, that's what you look like right now. You look like an idiot." Jack was not having it. 

"Do ya think Spot likes idiots?" Race asked absentmindedly, staring at Spot. 

"You moron. Go, get it over with."

So Race marched up to Spot, loud and proud. 

"Hey."

"You know, I'm just trying to have a good time, I don't need any of your bullshit today." Spot said roughly.

"I was wondering if- wait what?" Race stopped.

"So I'm bi? Deal with it."

"Ohh darn, Jack was right."

"Kelly?"

"Yeah, Kelly. He said you was gonna think that- never mind, I ain't here to bully ya or anything."

"Okay, well? What do you want, then?"

"I'm gay."

Spot looked Race up and down, then scoffed. 

"Uh-huh."

"For reals."

"Alright. Good to know, bye." Spot took a step away, but Race caught him by the arm and turned him back. 

"I was wondering," Race said slowly, "If maybe you would want to go to the rodeo with me tonight? Like, as a date?"

Spot pulled his arm away from Race, and Race worried for a second that he was gonna walk away with a split lip or a black eye. 

"Sure thing. Let me text my Ma and let her know I'll be out late, yeah?"

...

"How do you wear this shit?" Jack asked the next day, standing before Race's full-length mirror. 

"Cause I like it. And now you have to deal with it for a whole week. Enjoy! I gotta go pick Spot up for school."

...

THE END

...

...

hi its the author I just realized y'all city ppl probs actually don't know what a buckle bunny is so where I come from we use it to describe someone who dresses like this, or basically like anyone who looks like a fake country person. The whole wheat in the mouth thing doesn't actually happen all that often which is why it tends to fall under the buckle bunny label.

Also, I used barley instead of wheat in this for me being a farm kid purposes so

[glowstick-anon]

I'm down for some Elmer fluff

I’m sorry this took so long, I can’t seem to write well when it comes to Elmer…

You felt sad. You didn’t even know why, today you had just been feeling down. It wasn’t a bad day either, the day had actually been pretty good. College was actually going well and work hadn’t been too stressful today. Yet you couldn’t shake the sadness that you were feeling. Stepping into your apartment, you could see that the lights were on signalling that your boyfriend Elmer was already home. You set your things down by the door and saw that Elmer was in the kitchen getting a glass of water.

“Hey babe.” He said with a grin when he noticed you. Instead of answering him you silently walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him. The actioned made him laugh and he returned the hug.

“Rough day?” He asked.

“No I just… feel unhappy.” You replied quietly, pulling away from him.

“Did something happen today?” You could see the worry behind his eyes.

“No no today was fine I just… I don’t know .” You said with a frown.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Cuddle with me?”

“Of course.” He said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss and the two of you headed into your bedroom. He laid down first and you laid down next to him, placing your head on his chest.

“Hey Elmer?” You spoke up after you got comfortable.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Thank you for being here for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you babe, you know I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and snuggled closer to him. The two of you ended up falling asleep, content in each others arms.