#first of all my man was a hot fucking MESS this season from the whole angel possession thing and the cain thing it was bad for him AND me

[stepmom]

season 9 review

[ghostbustting]

Hii :)

could I request smth for Izzy (gnr) where reader is one of Duff's siblings and Izzy's into her, and she's been picking up on that but thinks that it's impossible because she finds herself to be really plain/boring (not insecure per se but confused), so she kind of ignores his advances and eventually he gets really frustrated and when theyre alone he kind of bursts and tells her to just reject him out loud instead of leading him on, and then frustrated smut ensues?

😭sorry if this is overly specific

have a great day/ night! -🕸️

Finally a request for my man SHJSBSJABA🙈

╰┈➤“𝑾𝑨𝑰𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼„ ๋࣭⭑

Izzy Stradlin x McKagan!Reader

Contains Smut

The coldness of a typical December’s night always had it’s way to get to me, despite being someone who would enjoy playing around in the snow all winter. Layers of sweaters is a must in this season, obviously. Though usually, in these type of situation, I’d burry myself under a whole bunch of layers of blankets, take a hot bath, or make myself something warm and comforting to drink.

This time, I decided to make a hot cup of coffee, craving that slightly bitter taste on my tongue that would warm up my throat and my stomach from all the freezing weather out there in the world.

Walking into the kitchen of my own house, I was greeted by a raven black hair, that was obviously dyed, standing in the way, a figure blocking my way from the kitchen counter, a figure that’s clearly not a part of my family.

I swear to God, I don’t remember my brother Duff being such a fucking twink, dye his blond hair into raven, and losing a few inch of his giraffe-like height.

Then it took me awhile to realize and get it in my head that the guy standing in front of me was Izzy Stradlin, one of Duff’s stupid bandmates. I sigh in relief to know Duff hadn’t gone that dumb as to go all black hair and lose what he would call his ‘chick magnet of a height’.

“Excuse me,” I say softly, rushing past Izzy in order to grab my mug from the top cabinet.

I never really found the right words to describe the Jeffrey Dean Isbell. He was.. intriguing, in a way, always had been. The first thing I noticed about him was his slightly mysterious demeanor of staying quiet most of the time with his literal monkeys and baboons of friends, including my brother obviously.

The second thing I noticed was the way he would just sit back with a cigarette casually sitting between his lips, the way he play as a rhythm guitarist in their band, the way his fingers strum those chords, the way he dresses so oddly appealing.

At first I always thought I made a bad first impression on him to the point he didn’t talk to me a lot when I was around, but lately I found myself thinking it’s a whole different reason.

Because the third thing I noticed about him is the way lately, he’d look at me up and down each time I enter the room or walk by him, he started talking to me, praising me now and then— not too subtle, but not too hidden for me to be oblivious about it. He’d throw his cigarette away when I’m nearby, knowing I’m not a smoker, he’d also mess up his guitar chords when I’m at their practices.

I’d respond with the same thing, small smiles, small chit-chat, assisting him with his guitar when one of the strings broke, making lunch for the band, my eyes meeting him when I hand his food. The little antics he’d put on whenever I’m around him starts to make me get my hopes up and think he might actually be into me.

But when I think about it again, I find it impossible. Why would he? He hung around groupies, his band’s back dancers, random club whores. And out of all those choices he just happen to be interested in me? As far as I concerned, I was plain. Boring. I dress just like all other girls, yet I always failed to make myself look as attractive as they do.

Looks aren’t really something I prioritize that much. But I can’t help but find it confusing how he acts like I’m special to him. Or perhaps he treats every other girl he’s comfortable with like this.

So with my doubt, I decided to just ignore his little shenanigans.

I start to make my coffee, stirring it till it’s completely mixed nicely. I can feel Izzy’s gaze on me as I do so, hearing a sigh from him while he stay standing there like a statue, his lips slightly parted as if words were urging to slip past them and into my ears.

There always were some sort of different vibe washing over both of us whenever it’s just us two. The clock was ticking, we were quiet yet the tension speaks loud enough for us. I try to stay quiet and keep my eyes on my coffee as I lift my mug up to my lips and take a sip.

A sigh escapes me as the freshly made coffee warms up my throat, licking up the liquid that managed to drop on my lip, a pair of eyes burns a hole at the side of my head like a magnifying glass using the power of sunlight.

Only, there is no sunlight. The reminder fills me with coldness again as I blow air into my hand and rub them together, desperate to feel heat forming in my palms. That’s when I hear his voice, “Are you feeling cold?” His voice was monotone as usual, but if you hear closely you can hear just enough genuine care in that same exact voice.

Or I was hallucinating again.

I nod my head quietly, “Mhm.” My answer came out shorter than how I would usually answer his questions or statements, not even looking up at him even though I’d always look into his eyes so deeply in our conversations.

I hear him sigh yet again, leaning against the counter next to me this time as I take another sip of my coffee. I slowly raise my head to look up at him, trying to find out what emotion he’s feeling at the moment, yet always finding it hard through his casual straight face that he wear most of the time.

“You uh.. a coffee person?”

I raise an eyebrow at his random question. It’s not the first time he did this, but it just feels so awkward this time. Looking down again and shrugging with a nod, I hum “Mhm..”

“You look lovely tonight.”

My heart stops and my cheeks turned slightly pigmented with a tint of pink. For a guy so quiet and closed most of the times, I find it flattering to hear him compliment me like this. His choice of words; “Lovely” makes my mind get dizzy. But I had to remind myself that he was probably just being nice.

With another nod and a small voice, “Thanks..” I spoke, “You—”

This time though, before I could start speaking more, he cut me off with a small groan as his hand rub his face, “Jesus, just reject me already..” He muttered under with a sigh that sounded more irritated than the previous sighs he let out.

Lifting my head up, my eyes met his green ones. He throw his head back and roll his eyes, sitting slightly on the edge of the counter. I gulped and slowly answer him, “Sorry? I don’t understand what you—”

“Oh don’t act fucking dumb.”

Taken aback by his words, I lean back and tilt my head. “Excuse me?” I scoff, raising an eyebrow at him in a way of showing the way I feel offended by his words. I have no idea what his problem is with me. At first he compliment me, and now he’s acting irritated all of a sudden?

He laughed bitterly and look at me, “This. This is what I mean.” He spoke, pushing his slightly greasy raven hair back with his fingers. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s hesitant to continue his sentence, his eyes turning back down to his shoes. “You know what you’re doing. It’s not fair, you know? You- you look at me with those fucking eyes, talk to me, lead me on and at the end you—”

“What?!”

I blurted out a little too loud. My eyes widen as I almost spat out the coffee I was previously sipping on. I didn’t expect him to say that. Leading him on? How did he get that? Was I really giving that impression on him? Despite finding myself getting flustered by his antics here and there, I was never the type to flirt first. I can never bring myself to make a first move.

Izzy let out yet another shaky sigh as he ruffle up his own hair, messing it up a little. He seems oddly frustrated, a hint of uneasiness in the way he stand. “What? You clearly know I have a thing for you and- and—”

“You have WHAT?” I cut him off yet again, my eyes widening even more to the point they might pop out of their sockets. His words rang in my ears again and again, a feeling of disbelief washing over me when I realize what he said. “I.. I didn’t know..”

As conscious as I was all the time of his small gestures, I would’ve never thought my assumptions would turn out to be true. And even now, I don’t even know whether he was saying the truth or just meaningless words to me just to play me in the end like rock stars like him would typically do to any vulnerable girls that came across their way.

I took a step back and lean against the kitchen island behind me, my hand coming to rest on the edges of it as I look down and try to process the situation again, or rather trying to decide whether he was genuine or not, very careful with my decision.

He’s kind, always was. I never had a problem with him unlike Duff’s other friend that would start an argument with me every little minutes. Izzy was rather.. closed yet considerate towards me.

“You don’t believe me huh?” He started again, sighing. I look up at him, my eyes giving away the hesitance in me. Then, Izzy slowly start walking my way, sending a wave of nervousness in me when he got even closer, all the way till he’s right in front of my face, his hands besides mine on the edge the island.

With this proximity, it was so much easier looking at the small details in his face, how lighter the green in his eyes seems to shine, the nose piercing that’ll look somewhat invisible if you don’t look close enough, the smallest imperfection in his almost perfect face, at least that’s what I see when I look at him. I didn’t even realize how he’s slowly leaning even closer into me.

Looking down at me, he ask, “Does your brother take long when he go out?” His voice is now slightly smaller, my eyes slowly avoid his gaze and look at the floor instead as I nod my head to his questions.

“..Then will you let me prove my feelings before he comes back?”

My heart beat accelerates on it’s own, my chest heaving up an down as I take deep breaths and let them out in shaky and heavy ones. I found it hard to speak with how nervous and aroused he makes me. He was older than my brother, let alone the age gap between him and me. But I really can’t help this overwhelming feeling building up inside me.

One small sex. That’s it. If my feeling say it’ll go south, then I’ll bury this memory away.

“..Fine..”

And with those four letter word, something switched up in him, as if he found it as a green light. His hands immediately went to my cheeks, cupping them as he connect his lips to mine.

My eyes light up before slowly fluttering close with the feeling of his slightly dry lips rubbing right against mine, my hips being held close to him by his hands.

All the concern I had floated away when his tongue swiftly slips past my lips and meet mine, making me gasp a little at the taste of him. He tasted.. oddly sweet.

Or perhaps it was just the lust in me that made me feel all these kinds of feelings. Nevertheless, I was loving it. Too much, perhaps.

My arms snakes up and wrap around his neck, pulling him in even closer as he lift my hips up and place me to sit on the kitchen island, my lips staying on him the whole time.

I can feel his hands on my thighs, he was massaging them while slowly parting them, pulling me closer to the edge of the island while his fingers trails up to the waistband of my pants.

My eyes widen and I pull back from the kiss before I place my hand over his to pause him, he looked over at me and press one last peck on my lips, “Trust me.” He whisper, his voice way too reassuring to deny, “Please..?” His eyes stays on mine while he slowly kneel down on the floor.

The breath I exhaled became more heavy and shaky by the time he pull down my pants, letting it drop to the floor with him, the only thing stopping him from getting to my cunt is the already soaked fabric of my panties.

I watch silently as he lean closer to my clothed cunt, his finger lightly running up and down the soaked part of my panties, making me gasp when I can feel his finger right through the thin fabric.

Slowly, he began to pull down my panties. I was already forgetting how to breathe when he place the panties close to his nose, taking a good sniff of it before shucking it into his pocket.

Then.. I yelped when he dove into my pussy like there was no tomorrow, pulling me by my thighs and placing them on his shoulder.

My back arched when he began sucking on my clit harshly, two of his fingers making their way between my folds, pumping in and out of it while I make the dirtiest noises ever that echoes right through the empty house.

My hand reach up and hold onto his hair, pulling his face closer. “Fuck! Izzy..” I moaned, my legs shaking as he continued on and on with his action.

His fingers worked like magic, curling up at the perfect position that can pull out even louder noises from me. Meanwhile his mouth continued to suck and nibble on my clit, driving me insane with pleasure.

I can already feel a knot forming in my stomach, grinding against his fingers and face as I reach closer and closer to my release. “..’M close..!”

That’s when he pulled back and stopped my release.

I look at him with wide eyes, “Wha- why’d you stop?” I panted out, my legs still shakint from how much he drove me insane just by using his mouth and fingers.

But by the time his pants along with his boxers fall down to the floor, I knew I was in for a main course. My eyes widened yet again when I noticed the size of his cock and how it curves up a little.

Suddenly, he pushes me to the middle of the island before climbing up on it himself, towering over me while his hands were pinning my shoulders down to the hard cold surface where I would usually find myself use for eating.

My eyes stays on him the whole time while he held my hip in one hand and the tip of his cock in the other, he seems very.. concentrated.

I held in deep breaths when he start pushing through my folds and into me, the both of us let out groans of pleasure from the new feeling while he slowly push in even deeper.

“Iz..” I whimper as my back arch when he managed to get all of his cock stuffed inside me, both of his hands on my hips now as he starts to thrust in and out of me. His length stretched me out, my small whimpers becoming moans.

Izzy himself moaned when he found the right pace, speeding up his movement. “You’re so tight.. fuck..” He grunted out, his hold on my hips becoming firmer.

When he lean down to kiss on my neck, my hands immediately flew to his back, clawing on his shirt and taking it off him before I throw it away. His cock continues to pump in and out of me, hitting the right spots every single time.

I moaned and held onto his back, my nails surely leaving scratch marks on his skin. My lips parted when his hips starts ramming back and forth into me desperately, my legs shaking from how fast he was going. “Fuck!” I cried out, trying to pull him even closer to me.

His face was burried deep in my neck, I didn’t even notice how he had left a secret mark right behind my ear, whispering, “I want you.. I wanted you for so long.. why can’t you fucking understand that..?” He grunts in my ear, his voice a sweet melody my ears record to remember for another night.

“Faster.. faster please..!” I moaned out.

And that’s exactly what he did, he lean back up and hold my hips even more tighter, I was sure his fingers would be leaving a mark. His hips starts ramming even more fast, not faltering even for a second. He just kept going.

He was able to let out the sweetest yet dirtiest moan out of me, making my bsck arch at the same time as my fingers try to find something to hold onto, to which he offered out his hand for me to hold.

I gripped onto his hand and arm tightly, “So good, so good..” I cried out, squirming still underneath him.

That’s when the knot from earlier returns even tighter now. This time I just cannot hold it in any longer, “I’m coming..!” I gasped out when my release came gushing out of me, dripping down my cunt tha’s still being pumped by him.

“Oh shit.. mm.. shit shit!” Izzy suddenly pulled out and grip his cock tightly on my stomach, jerking himself off till white streaks of his cum flew out, messing up my shirt.

He then slowly fall onto me, he wasn’t that much of a buff guy, so his weight didn’t surprised me that much. I slowly wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close to me as we pant for breath, still shocked from our deeds.

He was the first to speak up, his voice becoming soft yet again, “Sorry about your shirt.. and the island..” He whisper, “I’ll clean them up..” His head was resting my chest, ear pressed onto my skin as he listen closely to my heartbeat.

“Don’t worry.” I whisper back and stroke his hair with my fingers, feeling the softness of it.

That’s when he look up at me and let out a shaky breath, “So.. what- do you believe me now..?” He ask, a hint of hope in his eyes that are silently pleading with me to say yes.

Looking away, I sigh and close my eyes, my mind trying to come up with the correct respond to voice out. “I don’t.. I don’t know..”

Looking back at Izzy, I can see all the hope in his eyes crushed up as his head fall back on my chest. I continue to run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of guilt for crushing his hope within seconds. “I’m sorry..” I whisper.

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, mumbling “I’ll wait for you..”

Though my mind made my answer unsure, there was something nudging me in my heart, something telling me that this boy on my chest was being genuine. I couldn’t help but look down at his face, his eyes closed and he looked so peaceful. My heart had an urge to accept him into my world, but my mind told me to wait for the right moment.

[juniperskye]

Chewing Gum

Summary: Eddie gets gum in his hair, so Steve takes him to his favorite salon to get it out. The events of season 4 did not happen.

Eddie Munson x Hair Stylist (Fem)Reader (she’s kind of sunshiny emo lol also she’s described to have colored hair, tattoos, and piercings)

Fluff

Word count: 1474

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, no use of y/n, language!, Jason Carver being an ass, half assed salon info, let me know if I missed any!

not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Jason Carver is a dick. He treated Eddie and the boys like shit and went out of his way to make sure they knew they were “freaks”.

Eddie saw Chrissy get bumped by one of the other basketball players. They were messing around in the halls like a bunch of Neanderthals and Chrissy got struck in the crossfire. She was body checked into a locker and her books went flying.

“Here.” Eddie offered Chrissy her science book that had slid across the hall.

“Thanks Eddie.” Chrissy smiled.

Eddie nodded back to her and moved toward his homeroom, but not before Jason stormed over, purposely bumping Eddie in the process.

“Let’s go babe.” Jason said, pulling Chrissy along with him.

This had been a pretty tame reaction from Jason…or so Eddie thought. Eddie made it through homeroom and history no problem, it was when he got to lunch that all hell broke loose.

“Woahhh dude! You have gum in your hair.” Garreth said to Eddie.

“HA HA very funny Garreth.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Oh shit! Ed, man he’s not joking.” Dustin informed the older boy.

With that, Eddie reached to the back of his head and brushed his hand over his hair. As he shifted from the top of his head down towards the nape of his neck, he felt the sticky wad of chewing gum, causing his curls to tangle up.

Laughter erupted across the cafeteria, as Eddie’s gaze shifted to the disruption his eyes met Jason’s who shot him a smirk and a wink. Further proving Eddie’s theory that the asshole that was Jason Carver had, in fact, been the culprit of this incident.

“Eddie, I could call Steve, his hair guy could probably fix you right up.” Dustin offered.

“Hell no. The last thing I want to do is get help from Steve.” Eddie scoffed.

“We could just cut it out.” Mike shrugged.

“Fuck it. Call Steve.” Eddie conceded.

Dustin and Eddie made their way to the school’s payphone. Dustin was quick to dial the number and explain the whole situation to Steve once he picked up. Steve had offered to take Eddie to his hair guy, but only if Eddie asked nicely and said please…which he reluctantly choked out over the phone.

“I’ll come pick you up.” Steve told Eddie, before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve pulled up to the school in his burgundy BMW, yelling at Eddie to “hop in”. The drive started off in an uncomfortable silence. This was the first time Eddie had hung out with Steve alone, not that they were hanging out.

“So, listen Eddie, nobody, and I mean NOBODY, knows that this is where I get my hair done and honestly I’d like to keep it that way.” Steve explained.

“Okay…you’re freaking me out. Where is this place?” Eddie said as he looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

“Just up here on the left.” Steve said, pulling up in front of a hair salon.

Eddie initially felt confused, he figured that Steve would go to a barber, like any other guy from school, but this actually made a lot of sense. Steve cared about his hair the way any girl would and he’s very particular about it so naturally he would go somewhere that would take better care of his hair.

As they made their way up the curb, Eddie was able to get a better look of the inside. It was painted mostly black but there were bright pops of hot pink and teal around the place. There were pink velvet couches and those smiley face daisy pillows strewn about them. There was only one employee in the place, and she was currently blow drying some girl’s hair.

Eddie’s eyes scanned the hair stylist, you were beautiful you had pink streaks in your hair, dark tattoos littering your arms and a nose ring. You took Eddie’s breath away.

“Steven Harrington you better not be back here to ask me to cut your hair shorter. You made me take so much off last time and I still haven’t gotten over it!” You shrieked.

“Would you relax! I’m not here for a haircut, I’m here with my uh, my friend.” Steve said, glancing over at Eddie.

“Hi Steve’s friend! Oh, my goodness your hair is beautiful! Please don’t tell me you want me to cut it off!”

Your theatrics were making Eddie’s heart sing. The compliment had him blushing.

“God no! I don’t want to cut my hair, that’s actually why I’m here.” Eddie exclaimed.

“He got gum stuck in his hair.” Steve replied waving him off.

“I didn’t get shit stuck in my hair. That asshole Jason Carver spit gum in my hair.” Eddie explained.

“Ugh the Carver boys are all terrors. I remember being a sophomore when Michael Carver was a senior and if he wasn’t the biggest douche bag, then I don’t know who was.” You said, shaking your head. You shifted your gaze over to where Eddie and Steve were sitting. “Wait a minute! I know you, Eddie Munson, we had freshman English together!” You said, reintroducing yourself to him.

“I knew you looked familiar!” Eddie smiled.

You told him that you’d be with him in just a minute, you wanted to get your client finished up and checked out. He watched in awe as you effortlessly sectioned and styled her hair, led her over to the register and cleaned your station quickly. He noticed you gathering a few things, which he could only assume would be for him.

“Okay come over and sit!” You gestured to your chair. As Eddie made himself comfortable you began explaining what you were going to do. “So, I am basically going to load your hair up with oil which should allow the gum to slide out. I will wash your hair after too, so you don’t leave here looking like a greasy mess. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Okay, thanks.” Eddie said, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“If you want I can trim your hair too, just clean it up, make it so your bangs aren’t in your eyes so much.” You offered.

“Oh um, that would be great but I uh, I don’t have any…”

“It’s on the house Eddie. Just a favor for a friend.” You said quietly.

Eddie nodded slightly and you got to work, slipping on some gloves, and pouring the hair oil into your hands. You started working it into his hair, really targeting the areas around the chewing gum. Slowly but surely the gum started to untangle itself from Eddie’s chocolate tresses. Once the gum was completely out, you led Eddie over to the shampoo bowl and proceeded to wash his hair. You couldn’t help but smile down at the soft expression he wore on his face. His eyes had fluttered shut and you thought he truly could have been asleep the way his face was relaxed. After washing, conditioning and finally rinsing his hair, you gently grasped his shoulder.

“Eddie, you ready for me to cut your hair?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Eddie said, carefully getting up and heading back to your chair.

Eddie sat and you and him chatted back and forth as you trimmed his hair. You had made sure to communicate through every part of the process, which products you were using and why, the way you were cutting his hair and adding in some natural layering to help with the bulk, trimming his bangs a little shorter than he was used to so they wouldn’t be too long so quickly. You pulled out the hair dryer and attached the diffuser, explaining what it did to Eddie and letting him know that blow drying definitely isn’t necessary for him to do.

Steve couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered its way on his face at the interaction playing out before him. He had never seen Eddie sit still this long or listen this intently to anyone. Steve couldn’t help but think that Eddie had better thank him for bringing him here.

“Alright Eddie you are all set.”

“Thank you so much, seriously! I really appreciate it and I don’t think my hair has ever looked or felt this good.” Eddie said, admiring your handywork.

“Of course! And by the way if you ever get gum in your hair again, peanut butter or cooking oil can get it out, it just takes a bit of work.” You explained. “But know that you can always come here, and I can help too!” You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm.

“Yeah. That sounds good! You know, I would need your number…you know to get a hold of you..” Eddie smirked.

He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of thanks toward Jason Carver…he had brought you into his life, all with a piece of chewing gum.

[kisses4kaia]

‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON… .ᐟ

synopsis—you visit your hometown for the holidays and the man who’s smile you’ve been missing has been missing you, too.

pairing—highschoolsweetheart!billy x reader

a/n—merry christmas !! happy holidays !! plz enjoy this rushed christmas special with our favorite cowboy. ❤️

—

“NO FUCKING WAY,” are the first words you’re met with as billy wearily opens the door you pounded on just moments ago. his expression, once groggy and obviously sleep-ridden, now wide awake at the sight of you.

“well, are you going to let me in, cowboy, or are you gonna leave me out here in the snow?” you tease, nose a dusty shade of maroon, bitten with the brutal winters cold, and billy cannot believe his eyes.

he picks his jaw up and nods quickly, opening the door wider for you and rendering himself speechless.

he never thought he would see you again, not after you moved to california to pursue your dreams of becoming a writer. he’d reckoned you would’ve been married by now, had children of your own. children you and billy had planned to have two of. a boy and a girl, a quiet life—and save for scarce letter from time to time, he had no idea how or where you were, and frankly, you were on his mind all the time.

“how? when? why?” billy’s eyebrows are furrowed as he watches you shrug off your heavy winters coat from your shoulders and hang it onto the old coat rack.

nothings changed in his house from since when you were an adolescent, save for the tattered couch that was once pushed against the wall now sitting in the middle of the room, facing the kitchen. other than that, the small, yet cozy, cottage felt like a time capsule—your memories from oh, so long ago suddenly feel like a decade hasn’t passed. like if you’d stayed, the world wouldn’t stop spinning, nor would your life end. you pushed the thought away.

instead, you laugh at the questions, because frankly you’d expected a much different reaction from him when you’d returned to the town you loved so much. “well, i got here on a horse,” you began, already cracking a joke. “as for when, i made it in town last night. and… i just felt like it. that suffice for you?” billy noticed your soft southern accent remained, though you had spent so long away from your beloved hometown.

“where are you staying?” yet another question from billy, but you didn’t mind, for, you were just grateful to see him.

“i’m staying at my parents house. you know it’s the funniest thing, i took the long way there… but the road not taken looks real good now. you know, considering the ass-freezing cold,” you jest again and billy finally cracks a smile. “you know i’ve missed you,” he says, and you pout to contain a smile. “yeah, i missed you, too. why do you think i came all this way? to get a cup of sugar?” you quipped again, never taking anything too seriously.

and there it is. that’s exactly what billy loved about you. so light-hearted, so good. even when he did things he deemed unforgivable, you were always there to highlight the brightness in his heart, to be the brightness in his heart. everything was whole with you, and billy can’t help but pull you into a tight, yearning, embrace. you reciprocate the energy and hug him back just as passionately.

and after a cup of hot coffee and catching up on one another’s lives by the burning fireplace, you end up on the floor, head resting back onto billy’s chest, bodies forming a T shape. “there was this girl called alice, and this other one called barbara, but uh… they were no good,” billy says after asking if you indeed had gotten married and had kids, to which your answer was a strong no, reasoning you didn’t have time for it, yet.

you kiss your teeth and chuckle humorlessly at billy’s unwarranted confession. “if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone, i would’ve asked you,” with the sting in your tone, billy could sense he messed up. because of course you wouldn’t want to hear about other women. billy was uneducated, not dense.

“i’m sorry,” he sighs sincerely, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “it’s okay, i mean, it’s only natural you’re gonna meet other women, i’ve been gone a good while.” you nod, allowing a false smile to dance onto your lips, throat pounding as you try mightily to keep tears from pricking at your eyes.

“hey, i want you. i always have, since the day we met. and you’re here now, aren’t you, baby? it’s just us, hm?” the endearing nickname slips, but you don’t correct him. after all, he was the only soul who could tell which smiles you were faking. “i’m only here for the weekend,” you look up at him, eyes honest and big, vulnerable and almost naïve. he smiles down at you, not turned off in the slightest by the very short amount of time he had with you. “well then, i guess we just have to make it count, right?”

you smile and stand, wordlessly making your way over to where, if memory serves you well, his bedroom is. lo and behold, the room is his, you know by the window being in the same place you remember staring out of while billy played with your hair as your ear pressed to his chest. difference is, the once full-sized bed has been replaced with a king—checks out, you’d taken a mental note earlier of how tall he’s gotten.

billy’s entering the room not long after you, and when he comes closer, places his hands on your waist, forehead pressed against yours, lips just a whisker away from one another’s, he asks. “can i… can i kiss you?” and you smile, because even now, when you’re full grown adults, he’s still nervous to even kiss you without audible permission. “please,”

and it’s like fireworks went off when you feel warm, coffee flavored, familiar lips on yours. god, you’d almost forgotten how much you missed kissing him. your hands tangled in his hair as he walked you back onto the bed, laying you down and not daring to pull away from your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse.

your tongue swiped his bottom lip, a beg for entrance, and he so graciously let his mouth to fall open slightly, allowing your tongue to meet with his. hastily, billy rods you of all your garments, before allowing you to help him strip himself. he only disconnected his lips from yours when he kissed down to your jaw, to your neck and to your clavicle, finding your sweet spot on your collarbone.

his hands trail down your abdomen, coming to a stop at your core, fingers drawing fast circles onto your clit, and you can’t help but moan. “fuck, billy, please, please fuck me, i‘ve missed you so much,” he smiles as he presses a kiss to your cheek, before he pushes his middle finger into your tight cunt. he lets out a groan himself at the squeeze. “fuck baby,” he breathes out, before beginning to pump the digit in and out of you, your pussy getting wetter by the second. and when he adds in another finger, curls both of them upwards to press against that one spongy spot inside of you, you come undone almost immediately. “that’s it, attagirl. cum on my fingers all pretty for me, yeah?” and you’re still desperate for billy’s cock even after your orgasm.

“billy, please,” you whine as you watch him lick the arousal off of his fingers, moaning at the taste, and he just coos at you reassuringly. “i know, baby, i know. just wanted to taste you first,” and when he finally pushes his aching cock into your impossibly tight cunt before bottoming out, you moan gutturally, and a breathy “fuck,” leaves billy. he gives you a moment to adjust to his size—necessary due to your long time spent away from his cock—before slowly beginning to move again.

for your sake, he tried to hold back, go at a pace slow enough that won’t leave your legs out of order for a week, but when you’re moaning underneath him so pretty like that? how was he expected to do anything but fuck you into the mattress like the world was ending? “billy, fuck, please, don’t stop—shit! i’m—ngh—i’m gonna cum, billy, holy fuck!” and it’s with a loud, sinful, moan that you squeeze around him incomprehensibly tight, like a fucking vice, billy thinks, and cum around his dick. he’s right behind you, looking down at where your bodies meet and seeing a creamy ring form at the base of his own cock. i did that, he thinks, and with your nails painfully dragging down his back, with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, with just you being in his fucking presence, he pulls out of your pussy and strokes himself a few times, before painting you with warm, white ribbons of his own release.

wordlessly, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. he runs a towel under warm water and cleans you up carefully, all before preparing a bath for the pair of you.

and when all is said and done, when the world is quiet and you are wrapped up in an old flannel of his, paired with his boxers, sitting on his bed, billy holds you close, and begins humming a song you aren’t familiar with, but the voice from which the tune flows out of is nothing but intimate, close.

“what’s the real reason you came back?” billy stops his humming, and you can only smile.

“because, billy, it always leads to you in my hometown.”

[xerith-42]

I decided to watch Void Paradox

I'm about five minutes into the first episode and I'm still not entirely sure if this is a good idea or not, but Laurance has already spoken like three lines of dialogue and I felt my heart wrench at just one of them, so clearly I'm in too deep now.

This post serves as my live tweeting/mental break down that I am currently having as we speak. It is very incomprehensible because it is literally just my thoughts as they happen, and given how much I have to say, I'll probably make proper posts out of a lot of these points once I finish the series.

This mess is just giving you a taste of the madness I truly posses.

I am only three minutes in before I have to pause and feel the urge to scream about how bad the dialogue in Aphmau series can be. Like this series is fairly okay, especially based on the standard set by her other shows but man... something is just not working here. The whole thing feels very clunky and while I can get the gist of what Jess is going for, the execution of said gist is leaving a lot to be desired.

[Laurance shows up]

nevermind Laurance is on screen and fully voice acted everything is better

Literally nobody talk to me I need to scream about Laurance Zvahl because he is EVERYTHING in this series. The way he very softly says Aph's name when he sees her, the immediate instinct to hug her because he's so relieved to see her, the fact that you can hear the smile in his voice the minute he registers that she's there and alive!! AUGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!

And I literally screamed when he revealed that he was transported to this AU right at the end of season 1. Oh my Irene, I screamed. I collapsed. I was truly defeated by a single line of dialogue. I don't know where this series is going to go but I am here for it. And the fact that he knows Garroth did it and hid it from her???

I can't overstate how genuinely healing it is to hear Laurance fully voice acted. I know Sebastian Todd is retired from voice acting, but when he retired, he took down all his posts, including what I considered to be a comfort video. That video of him reading iconic Laurance lines from before he was in mcd/lines he just didn't act? That video was my everything when I was trying to hold onto this version of the character I knew I loved who was different to what Jess made him. When that video got taken down it was a major cowabummer bc there's so little properly voice acted Laurance content that isn't mcd Season 3 or My Street stuff (and I can't stand My Street like 80% of the time)

Hearing his voice, hearing him get to be properly expressive, it's just doing things to me man. I missed this character a lot. I've mostly been enjoying him through fan content or my own work. It's nice to say I enjoy a piece of canon content involving him, at least so far.

Still not sure how I feel about literally anything else. The whole relationship between Aph and Tommy feels very... weird. She describes herself as "basically his mother" after she's left with him, and treats him like it in the opening scene. But then when he's mocking her for being attracted to Laurance (so relatable), it seems really weird for a [checks wiki] 14 year old kid to be calling out his mom for finding someone hot. Feels a lot more like sibling dialogue to me? Which I guess they could be seen as siblings, but the series explicitly stated that she views it like motherhood??? But I don't think Jess is even thinking that deeply about it, I just over analyze her work for fun at this point.

Okay what the actual fuck is going on with the inside of this house???

Why is the color scheme purple and yellow? And not in any kind of flattering way which is possible with opposite colors, it just has both of them. The wallpaper changes when you get into the living room except not entirely on the windows, and in an earlier scene it looked like it wasn't even put onto all of the walls. And the wood that she used as supports just does not compliment either of these colors as they are. Just make it all purple, you know you want to Jess.

Also is the texture on the table and the glass the same??? I don't know a damn thing about modding or making texture/data packs for minecraft but that just seems. odd.

Laurance: mentions the nether Me: [screams just a little]

Tommy: shows up and gives a random ass lore dump Aph: Kay thanks go back to your room

"I don't know what I can do to help."

"Just be there for me. I just need someone to ground me right now."

I literally want to shake Laurance around like a rag doll and give him a stupid kiss on his stupid fucking face UGH why can't I be normal about this block man and his stupid feelings?!?! The way his voice breaks as despair sets in?? The fact that he's no doubt pieced together that Garroth probably stole the amulet and plans to use it to hurt Aph and he can't do anything about it?? I'm literally losing it.

How did I not watch this series before.

Literally about to cry over him just calling Aph "M'lady" out of pure instinct. He didn't consciously do that. He just misses her that much.

oh no spooky evil alternate Laurance or whatever--

MAN I'm so happy I decided to watch this series. This was probably a mistake though :)

[cerise-angel]

West coast

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+ smut; smoking and drinking

Kind of a singer!au? (Omg Djo hi!!!) Heavily, if not totally, inspired by the song west coast and the ultraviolence album. Just saw the pictures above, while listening and yeah, this is it. Hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think 💘💕😖 (if i have the guts and time, maybe i will do one for each song of the album) Emotional smut ❤️😭🥵 Also this is my first smut, sorry if its not that juicy..... English is not my first language, sorry for any grammar mistakes/mispelling.

The night was hot and humid, the wind blowing relentlessly, boiling a summer storm with it. Even so, the small restaurant was almost full, pretty much all the tables taken, the dim lightning focusing on the small stage. Not that people seemed to be paying much attention to the man singing. You were though.

Sitting beside the bar in a tall chair, you ordered another Jack n Coke to the bartender, who seemed much happier to bring you more alcohol. "This was supposed to be fun." You thought to yourself, sighing. It was your vacation after all, and you decided to come down to south California, staying in a fancy resort.

Felt was nice, but lonely, it had started to bother you, bubbling in your chest, that same feeling of fear and relief of being alone, which usually ended up in tears or in the best peace you've ever known. The pretty singer seemed to be as frustrated as you. You focused on him, the way his hands played the guitar, his shirt opened until the fourth button, leaving out a sight of his chest and the gold chain resting against it. He stopped playing for a break, receiving a light but sure round of applause. He brought his drink to his lips, and locked eyes with you.

The way you were staring at him, as if he was good enough to eat, made him cock an eyebrow at you, which caused you to choke and spill your drink. He smiled, chuckling lightly, and even though you were embarrassed and tipsy, you couldn't stop looking at him. He started playing back, and you decided to head out of the restaurant, too ashamed for your own good.

Grabbing your phone, while sitting in one of the iron wired chairs outside, you texted your friend.

just embarrassed myself in front of the cute singer. that's why i hate gemini season.

You attached a funny selfie of you, making a fake crying face, and pressed send. Sighing yet again, you looked up at the dark skies, very cloudy, the smell of rain creeping from the grounds. It was going to rain very soon, but you really didn't care. It was fucking hot, your dress clinging to your body, your body getting damp with sweat. A cold rain would do good.

Contemplating your options, you settled for finishing your drink, and asking one more to the waiter that passed by. Surely time had passed, but you didn't know the amount. The wind was blowing even angrier, bending the palm trees and knotting the swiss cheese plants around you.

Your friend finally answered your phone, at the same time your new drink came.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Looking up to what it was supposed to be the young boy who had been attending your orders the whole night, it was the said cute singer. You felt hot in the cheeks and on the back of your knees. You wished for the rain. He looked at you with a soft smile dangling on his features, a mischief burning in his eyes.

"Can I sit with you?"

You nodded, chugging down a big gulp of the whiskey mixed with soda. He sat down, not in the chair in your front, but beside you. He reached for a pack of cigarettes in his back pocket, and drank his golden rum.

"Do you have a light?"

You nodded again, picking a neon pink lighter from your small purse.

"You don't talk?"

You looked at him a little angry and embarrassed, your mouth forming a pout before you could answer. The cute singer laughed, finally lighting his cigarette.

"Just messing with you, pretty. Don't get mad."

"I'm not mad. And I do talk."

He looked at you again, his eyes burning like his cigarette. He smiled, smugly. You smiled, ironically. He kept looking at you, and the drink you had earlier and the hot weather, made you look down, at your phone. Your friend's message was still unread.

i always thought embarrassing yourself was yoour flirting tactic? lol get him tigress

You chuckled lightly, and seconds after, as if in cue, the skies opened its gates, and big drops of water started to crash against the earth. You cursed under your breath, and quickly got your stuff, shoving your phone in your purse, and grabbing the half full cup to take to your chalet with you. The cute singer got up too, offering you his light jacket, to cover your clinging dress. You took it, grabbing his hand and bringing him along with you. He stopped before you could go any further, though.

"Hey, pretty, what cabin is yours?"

"Eight."

"Why don't we get inside, wait for the rain to subside, and then we go?"

The way he kept saying we, made your blood rush, your cheeks get red, your hands get sweaty, your breath hitch. You nodded, again, and he pulled you close to his body, bringing you back to the restaurant lobby.

Strangely, his cigarette was still on fire. You probably looked at it with a weird expression, because he chuckled, the hand that was still on your waist, rubbing your sides.

"My name's Steve Harrington. But you can call me Steve, or cute singer, whichever you like, pretty."

The way this man could make you turn into a giggling high school girly who just got a wink from her crush was insane. Maybe you were insane. It was his fault though, his pretty rough hands, the slightly chapped lip rubbing the cigarette, the faint smell of ash and vanilla he had. You were feeling dizzy. Putting a hand on his biceps, you pushed a little distance between you two.

"I'm sorry for ogling at you. You just looked really nice in the stage and no one paid you enough attention."

"You don't think I look nice now?"

He had, in the most subtle way, pulled you back into his chest, his hand resting on your lower back, his eyes glinting with desire. You looked up at him, at the smug smile you wanted to just kiss off his mouth, the small freckles he had on his neck and face.

"I think you look much more than nice now."

Steve dropped the cigarette on the floor, and his other hand caged your face. His lips were on you by a mere second, tasting like rum and salt.

"The rain decreased. C'mon, pretty."

------

The rain was a drizzle now, making the hot weather much more bearable. Steve had your hand in his, his other hand holding a bottle of golden rum he had taken from the kitchen. Your cup was still in your hand, with a very watered down liquor on it.

Steve stopped, letting your hand go and giving you the bottle before lighting up another cigarette. You drank a small amount from the bottle, smiling, tipsy for him. He smiled back, puffing the smoke before kissing you again.

The chalet wasn't far, but you two were eager. Walking fast and tangled when the rain started to pour heavily again, you made to the door of the cabin, soaked and dazed.

You unlocked the door, took off your kitten heels and walked inside. Steve did the same, letting his shoes out. You went to the bedroom, grabbing a towel for him and one for you. When you got back to the kitchen/living room assemble, Steve had put some music on, and was on the balcony. You couldn't tear your eyes away, even if you wanted to.

He was swinging slowly to the song, the breeze adding more allure to his silhouette. His cigarette on fire, his hands were up, dancing in a drunk manner. You wanted to eat him. You discarded the towels in the chair, and being a little intoxicated from the alcohol, from the heat, and, mostly, from him, popped the front buttons of your dress, reveling no bra and a glimpse of your panties.

Steve has stopped dancing, his eyes glued to your lustful form. He wanted to get inside again, and take you on the small couch, but he knew better. You seemed to enjoy playing this game, and he wasn't going to end your fun. So he waited, licking his lips, and chugging down the rum.

When you got to the balcony, the wind had risen, bringing some of the rain inside it. Steve reached for you in a moment, his hands now on your ass, his hips glued to yours, swinging with him.

"What song is this?"

You asked breathlessly, only to not give in to him first. Everything about him made you lose it, and one of his hands played around your almost exposed breasts now. His head was hanging low, eyes focused on your glowing skin, and the shivers he could bring you with just a slight touch.

"No idea, honey."

He gave in first. His lips chased yours, licking, kissing, burning. Your hands were on his soft silk hair, your lips connected to his, your whole body reacting to him. Steve's hands were now in your shoulders, pulling the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts. His kissing started to slow down, pecking your lips, your chin, your neck and finally your breasts.

You whimpered when his lips involved your nipple, his hands now resting in your waist and ass, steadying you in place. Steve looked up through hooded eyes and eyelashes, and you left a near pornographic moan at the sight. He smiled against your skin, pulled the rest of your dress off and turning you swiftly, so that your back was on display for him.

His hands played with your breasts, and he kissed your bare shoulders. You couldn't take it anymore, and started to push your hips against his, the aching lust taking the best of you. Steve fucking chuckled, putting his hands on your hips to stop you. You whined.

"Steve. Do something."

"I am doing."

You moved your hips again, turning in his embrace, locking your lips in a heated kiss. Steve's hands kept you flushed against him, his hips now moving in sync with yours. Your hand traveled down to his jeans, touching his clothed cock. Steve whined and you chuckled.

His hands did the same, going under your cotton panties, making you gasp and moan. He kissed you back immediately, keeping your sweet noises just between your two. You finally pulled his jeans and boxers down, looking at his pretty cock. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Smugly, he touched your chin, tilting your head up.

"My eyes are up here, honey."

You rolled your eyes, ready to talk him down, but his fingers pushed inside you. Steve turned on his heels, bringing you with him, so now you were pressed against the balcony fence. Softly, he tapped your leg, and you sited on top of the fence, opening your legs for him. Steve pulled your panties down, and you helped him out of his shirt. He was more eager than you, pressing himself against your pussy before the shirt was off. You kissed him again, and he kissed back softly, slowing down while his hands secured you by the waist. Slowly, Steve pushed himself inside you, making you gasp and whimper at the stretch. His mouth pecked you, easing you into it. His hands were now cupping your jaw, his breathing ragged, forehead against yours. Softly, you muttered.

"Move, baby, move, baby."

Steve gave you the prettiest smile, rocking his hips against you. You clawed at his back, your legs wrapping on his waist. Steve's mouth was back to your breasts, one of his hands squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh while the other kept caging your jaw.

"Steve. Steve, please. More."

"You-Jesus, honey, you so sweet. Fuck."

His lips kissed your mouth again, his hips keeping a tough rhythm in and out of you. Your hands were now on his hair, tugging, pulling, caressing his scalp. Steve's eyes were glued to the meeting of your bodies, the way you fitted him perfectly. He picked up the pace, faster and deeper, making you cry out in pleasure. His mouth latched to your neck, sucking, biting, kissing. You kissed his face relentlessly, lips meeting his forehead, his temple, his eyes, everything. You were close enough to hot white pleasure, and Steve seemed to notice, bringing his hand to rub your clit. Your head fell back, mouth opened, while he kept fucking you and kissing your neck and breasts.

"C'mon, honey. Come to me."

And you did. Your body felt limp, completely relaxed, your lips twitching a lazy smile. Steve slowed his pace, easing you out of your bliss. You brought your lips to his neck, and Steve whimpered, his hips stuttering against yours. You sucked the same spot, nipping gently at the soft skin. Steve pulled out, painting your thighs with his seed. He smiled, too, before kissing you again.

The kiss was gentle, slow. Steve helped you out of the fence, making sure to support your tumbling legs. You wrapped your arms on his neck, nuzzling your face in his chest.

"Shower with me?"

You asked meekly, not wanting him to leave. Steve nodded, wrapping you in a hug, following you to the bathroom. It was strange, how much you liked him. You met him in less than a day, and here you were, letting him wash your hair, and help you to apply body oil. You quite probably were insane.

Steve's skin was warm to the touch, soft and painted with freckles. You washed his back, in a retribution for him washing your hair. Steve kept you close, always touching you, kissing you. It made you feel like maybe he was liking you too. Maybe you weren't that insane.

After the shower, you clung to him again, worried that he might leave you. He smiled, reassuring you he wouldn't, pulling you on top of him in the bed. Steve pulled the duvet to cover you, and you turned the ac on. When you looked at him again, he was already looking at you. His eyes were even prettier in the small lightning, and you had to resist to urge to touch and connect the freckles on his bare chest.

Steve kissed you, and nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his rough hands squeezing you against his own body.

"Steve. I think, I think, I'm in love."

He looked up, his cheeks glowing pink, his eyes shining with yearning.

"Honey, I'm in love."

[itsclydebitches]

I haven’t read a whole lot of TMA fic, so I’m sure this already exists somewhere, but I really want a time travel fic where Jon goes back to Gertrude’s era.

So it’s 2007-ish, before his younger counterpart has started working at the Institute, but years into Elias and Gertrude’s tenure. They’re having a normal day serving the semi-omniscient fear god when a fucking full-fledged avatar of the Beholding - complete with a small mountain of tapes - falls through a rift in space-time and crash lands on Gertrude’s desk.

(Season 5 Jon might have decided not to kill Helen and instead used her to get here. If he ever sees her again they’re going to have A Talk™ about her choice of transportation.)

For the record, a hot mess of a man falling from the sky indoors is only like... the eighth most interesting thing to happen to Gertrude this week. Still, it’s clear he’s not entirely human - one gets a sense for these things, even without a giant eyeball’s help - and she’s got a knife on him faster than you can say “Statement.” This doesn’t seem to faze the man.

That annoys the fuck out of Gertrude.

Meanwhile, Elias has nearly passed out from the supernatural alarm bells going off in his head because the Ceaseless Watcher’s special little boy is here!!! What does that mean? Hell if he knows, but this man is ALIGHT with the Entities’ marks, just dripping with the power of the Eye, and Elias finds he has the sudden urge to drop to his knees before this stranger, something he’s only ever done post-Watcher’s Crown.

(This might be a Jonlias fic, whoops.)

Elias, seeing The Archivist for the first time: 😍😍😍😍😍

Gertrude, seeing The Archivist for the first time: 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

So after introductions Jon is all, “Yes, I’m an eldritch monster that’s forced to feed off the trauma of others, but I’m your eldritch monster. Please, Gertrude, I’d like nothing more than to carve out Magnus’ heart with you so he can’t destroy the whole fucking world.”

Elias, suddenly experiencing true fear for the first time in decades, feeding the Eye and being fed in turn and basically entering a feedback loop where this powerful stranger threatening to murder him is the hottest thing he’s ever Seen: !!!!! 💖💞😱!!!!!🤩😊💚!!!!!

And at first Gertrude’s like hell no, not having any more goddamn avatars in my archives thank you, but then the trio passes young intern Sasha James (shhh don’t worry if that fits the timeline) and Jon looses it. The hold that the Stranger had on him in his original timeline has broken and he’s able to recognize this as the real Sasha - her face, her voice, her very panicked looks towards her bosses as this random man sobs into her shoulder. And Gertrude’s like dammit, clearly The Archivist still has some of his humanity left. No true Fear monster would ever willingly be that embarrassing.

After prying Jon away from Sasha and promising her a raise to avoid any HR reports, they get the whole long, traumatic story out of him, but any plans to just permanently kill Elias kinda... sputter out. It’s a little bit of a Web thing, a little bit of a time travel thing, and a little bit of Jon just feeling... wrong when he considers it, no matter what he’s told Gertrude. It’s similar to when he let Annabelle live, though Elias has done absolutely fuck-all to earn his mercy. This confuses Jon, though it’s pretty far down on his list of worries.

The good news is that Jon’s mere presence puts a permanent wrench in Elias’ plans. He’s never going to repeat the ritual to open the door, obviously, and good fucking luck marking another archivist while he’s Watching. Given Jon’s suspicions that he became semi-immortal after waking from his coma, he’ll be Watching a damn long time, you megalomaniacal bastard.

The bad news is that since Elias can no longer plot an intricate manipulation, he’s decided that the next best thing is to just convince Jon to bring about the end of the world willingly.

By wooing him.

Elias: “We can be Kings of a ruined world together, Jon~”

Gertrude: “I am not paid enough for this.”

So begins the office romance comedy of Jon’s nightmares, where instead of hating him for ruining his world domination plans, Elias is smitten - in a suave, very creepy kinda way - and has decided that he’ll simply wait Jon out, wearing him down until the inevitable day when he realizes that they were meant to be. A full-fledged Archivist was dropped into his lap, ranting about how he out-foxed a future version of Elias, tormented by his own monstrosity, and people expected his narcissistic ass to not fall head over heels with his own creation?? As if.

Jon is Not Having A Good Time.

Originally when he landed here he was all, “Where is my Martin whom I love so dearly? Where is the support and companionship that I crave?” But after ‘bumping into’ him a few times outside the Institute, Jon comes to the bitter conclusion that whatever connection they had is gone. He recalls Martin’s firm belief that they never would have become a couple without all the trauma they’d been through and though this time around Jon definitely doesn’t hate him... he doesn’t love him either. Oh, he loves that he exists, seeing Martin whole and blissfully ignorant of the Fears helps heal something in Jon, but it takes him a very long time to admit that he’s too nice. Too caring. Too tentative in his insecurity. Jon grinds his teeth and admits in the privacy of his own thoughts that he was attracted to a bastard version of Martin, one who showed off a little bit of his own monstrosity, was connected to his own domain, could cut just as cruelly with his words as Jon could with his powers... Meeting with him now over coffee, inches away, Jon has never felt farther from him. This Martin simply isn’t a part of the world that created Jon.

Good, he decides and firmly steers Martin away from the Institute. Thanks to some blackmail and Peter Lukas’s money, Martin finds himself with a caretaker for his mom and the promise of a full ride through whatever creative writing program he can get into.

Meanwhile, Elias is of course stalking and spying on Jon whenever he can, doing the metaphorical equivalent of doodling hearts in his notebook whenever he catches a glimpse of why Jon no longer connects with Martin. He’s a bastard avatar with shitty morals and, frankly, far better taste in poetry. Open your third eyes, Jon!!

Gertrude, who avoided sacrificing Michael after a stern talking to from Jon: “You sure you don’t want the Spiral to eat you, kid? Anything’s better than watching this clusterfuck.”

Michael: 🙃🙃🙃

After a while the Institute settles into a new kind of normal. Jon, Gertrude, and Michael defend the archives from the slew of enemies they’ve both amassed, stopping the occasional ritual in their free time. Jon has long come to the conclusion that the Fears couldn’t have originated here - not with the Eye being unable to see its own creation - so starving them in this reality at the expense of their world wouldn’t serve the greater good. The best they can do is continually contain them - which they’ve gotten real good at. Elias continues to bother Jon with a fervor that’s almost admirable (he can see how this guy managed plans for upwards of 200 years) and waffles between playing the Mysterious Boss archetype that he’d used on Jon the first time around, and just giving in to the utter adoration he feels whenever Jon is in the room. It’s clear he’s long since started worshiping Jon rather than the Eye and the Eye is... totally fine with that?

Gertrude: “How did you get the Ceaseless Watcher to treat you like a favored child?”

Jon: Trauma?? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

After seeing how much happier Martin is, Jon guides the rest of his former assistants away from the Institute, Sasha included. It helps, a little, but it also makes him even more isolated than he was the first time around.

Gertrude realizes this, so when Elias’ flirting - “I’ve found a fresh statement for you, Jon. Oh do stop glaring, it’s just a bit of chloroform. She’ll wake up soon. You can’t be satisfied with stale writings for forever” - starts inducing more fond annoyance than fear or horror, she becomes #Concerned.

Gertrude: “You realize that desensitizing you to his actions was the point all along, right?”

Jon: “Mmhm. But is it still manipulation if I know it’s manipulation?”

Gertrude: “You cannot possibly be considering this.”

Jon: “Would it help if I admitted that dating Elias wouldn’t be the worst decision I’ve ever made?”

Gertrude: “NO.”

The thing is, Jon liked Elias before he revealed himself to be an immortal body-snatcher hell-bent on creating... well, hell on Earth. He liked the soft academic exterior, his careful words, love of organization and attention to detail, the dry humor, cutting intellect, those suits that likely cost more than three months of his salary combined... In fact, Jon is now in a place to vividly remember the embarrassment he felt while interviewing for the archivist’s position, too busy avoiding looking at Elias’ lips to catch the hungry glint in his eye.

Of course, that Elias only exists as a veneer... though what was Jon’s “I’m just a normal man going grocery shopping, please ignore my scars and aborted grab as I resist demanding a statement from you” if not a veneer of its own? Where did their ‘real’ selves begin and their conscious choices end? The most awful thing about all this is that Elias is right. Oh, not about them being Kings of a ruined world, but about how no one but another avatar can truly understand an avatar. By this point Jon is years past his coma, fully at peace - or at least, as at peace as he’ll ever get - with the fact that he chose to live as a monster rather than die as a human. That means Knowing things at his leisure... though he tries not to catch anything private. It means Compelling others to provide him with more knowledge... though he’s careful with his questions around friends. It means Feeding off of others’ worst moments in life... though Jon restricts himself to statements that Gertrude has collected first, so that he never haunts anyone’s dreams. And it means spending the majority of his time with other monsters and monster-aligned allies... though Jon plants his feet firmly in his human morals and refuses to budge.

If he can navigate all that, why not this too?

Elias has said more than once that he would make Jon the worst version of himself - said with such glee and promise as to almost, almost sound like something Jon wants. Jon figures that the worst version of Elias, from his perspective, would be to look a bit more human.

“We can bring out the worst in each other,” he agrees one day, followed by a shark-like grin.

Elias hasn’t the faintest idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

And that feels wonderful. Manipulating him into being a marginally better person who doesn’t bring about the apocalypse might actually be more satisfying than stabbing him. The Elias of Jon's original timeline would have HATED this and that makes Jon do a happy little wiggle whenever he thinks about it.

Gertrude: “You’re leashing a fucking dragon, Sims.”

Jon: “Better than letting it roam free.”

Gertrude: “Just so long as he doesn’t chew through the reins.”

Jon: “Yeah well, I’ll be the first one burned if that happens” and he holds up his charred hand with a shrug.

So begins the most messed up courting ritual the world has ever seen. Do they work as a couple? Oddly enough, yes. Amazingly well, in fact. Is it a healthy relationship? LOL yeah right. But then that’s rather the point. Jon gave up on that the day he acknowledged that, yes, a part of him liked being the most powerful being roaming a hellish landscape - liked not being vulnerable for once. Back when he’d first joined the Institute, post-breakup with Georgie, Jon couldn’t even imagine someone liking him enough to grab a drink after work. He’s past pretending that having the cult-like devotion of a lover, the favor of a Fear god, and the grudging respect of everything else that goes bump in the night isn’t really fucking nice.

Sometimes Elias plays the part of a compassionate human for Jon, as a treat. Sometimes Jon let’s Elias bask in another’s terror, as a treat. Sometimes Jon is Jonathan Sims and sometimes he’s The Archivist. “Let’s rule a burned-out world together” becomes a staple request in their relationship, with Jon always giving Elias the equivalent of a pat on the head and a, “Sure, honey. Maybe next week.” They find something like balance that way.

Plus there’s Gertrude, perpetually in the shadows with an arsenal of weaponry and the promise to obliterate them both if they ever go too far. She reminds Jon of his grandmother when she threatens to fuck them up in the afterlife if they ever make her kill them.

Something, something, dysfunctional eldritch found families are beautiful?

Jon and Elias have achieved something akin to an uncanny, domestic bliss when Elias points out that this body won’t last forever...

Jon Does Not Like the idea of Elias kidnapping another innocent.

However...

Jon: “You know Jurgen Leitner is living in the Institute’s tunnels, right?”

And they lived ever after. The “happily” is highly subjective.

Bonus:

Post-apocalypse!Jon meeting with Original!Jon to warn him away from the Institute, painfully thin ever since his coma, hip-length hair streaked unnaturally white, a slew of scars covering every available bit of skin, the slightest green glow behind his eyes, somehow looking supremely confident and powerful while also embodying the most Awkward Academic you’ve ever seen: Hey.

Og!Jon: G-good lord!

Jon: It’s okay. You can say ‘fuck.’ Please say ‘fuck,’ Jon. We deserve it.

[castlebyersafterdark]

What do you think of the idea of Mike having a bit of a crush on Eddie? It’s personally one of my favourite things to see explored in pre-s4 fics. The way he’s ogling Eddie in the cafeteria scene while Fever by the Cramps plays is so 🤭🤭 and I love the idea of it being a bit of the “oh haha I just really admire this person” sort of denial that I went through when I first started noticing other people of my sex. I feel like some bylers don’t like to acknowledge this because they don’t like to see Mike crushing on someone who isn’t Will, or because Eddie is older than him (a non-issue imo because he’s clearly in love with Will, while Eddie is more of a “wow guys are hot” type of crush which nothing is going to come of, plus tons of teens have crushes on older people they don’t act on). I just love the headcanon of Eddie being somewhat of a sexual awakening and part of the common experience of “do I want to be them or be WITH them?”

(Why did this get so deeply lost in my drafts and I never posted it??? Anyway.)

LOVE the idea, the idea is pretty much canon to me and to anyone who read that cafeteria scene properly!! FEVER was playing?? Why in the entire catalog of music was THAT song playing if not to insinuate a specific mood. My take on Mike is pretty complicated, but the basics include the beginning stages of recognizing his sexuality to be during the in-between from season 3 to 4. It took a cataclysmic shift in his life to jump start that already over-driven brain into panic mode, realization mode. We are not quite in acceptance mode as of the end of 4. Freshman year? The gay thoughts are starting to catch up with him. His relationship with El was put into questions, as are his feelings about Will. And then in walks Eddie fucking Munson and Mike's brain is flipped upside down.

Eddie represents a lot for Mike. He's unapologetic about who he is, he's very anti-authority, he's loud and confident, and he's a fucking nerd. While still being, in his own eyes, a badass. I think to Mike, he is one of the coolest conceptual people he'd ever encountered. While being, in reality, not cool at all. And that's a lot to handle. And he's such a man. There's something so so so formative in the life of a young gay kid, the whole concept of "do I want him or want to be him" and it's so real, so authentic. This is very much the Eddie effect when it comes to Mike.

EVIDENCE and BODY LANGUAGE

Look at him?? That's his smitten with a boy face.

Dustin is so clearly tense and on edge and Mike is so casual? He's actively accepting the physical contact. That internal thrill when your crush touches you.

This one is ridiculous. Dustin's forcing a laugh and Mike is just. Delighted. We rarely see him smile like that.

I think this one is my favorite. Dustin so clear wants anything else to be happening and Mike actively leans in closer.

And this was earlier in the scene, but you're telling me Michael Wheeler and his abrasive ass personality, anti-authority, hates being bullied, doesn't take shit - giggles and smiles when Eddie throws food at him? Oh, to him he reacts like it's flirting. A mess, you poor little gay boy. A smitten mess.

[goat-charcoop]

Welcome to the new Oceanside Wellness

*Private Practice Season 1 Episode 1*

The moment the world met Charlotte King.

Looking back now, I have loved this character from the beginning. I've read about people who hated her at first but grew to love her as the series progressed, this thankfully did not befall me. I've always loved a badass, take no prisoners, speak your mind no matter what female main character with a soft heart hiding behind all the barb, and that my friends is Charlotte King.

The way she stormed into the series, telling Sam to get out of her way. Her face when the woman yelled, "I want Ken's sperm now!" Her "That dead man's swimmers are staying exactly where they are. You got a way to fight me on that? I'd like to see you try." Yes, queen! Her little smirk after she insults Sam's book, absolute Charlotte King at it's core and I am in love with it.

That lawyer also does not love his life. Raising his finger at Charlotte King, you are a brave soul, my dude.

Cooper is such a kid at heart. And I kind of love it, most of the time. That 'I'm just a baby' trend from a while back comes to mind when he acts all goofy.

After my rewatch he is now called Handsome Cooper, lol because when he greets Addison again he asks if she remembers him and says, handsome in such a wholesome 'how could you not, I'm a hottie' way and it kills me. Then him clutching Violet's stuff in the mall, him messing around with the fishing rod, such a boy *insert heart eyes* It also helps that everytime he's great with a kid on-screen I find him a little hotter than before.

Some other fave moments from this ep:

1. "That's a loud deposit." - Sam Bennett said something hilarious, who fucking knew.

2. I still like Pete this season, he also looks hot. Conceited but hot. Thinking Addison came back because of the kiss though, I mean, man bring down the ego a notch or three.

3. Where did Sam's dog go?

4. This interaction:

'How you doing there, Pete? ' -Addison

"Kicking ass and taking names. You? " Pete

"Ass kicking and name taking are on my resume." Addison (Fucking badass!) Also Addison last monologue, brilliant!

5. Eating a whole cake on the floor with your best friend, goals.

6. "Oh my god, when did my knees turn 80?" - Violet (feel you girl)

7. Midwiffery, is that even a word. 😂😂 I remember them joking about it on some interview too, hilarious.

Honourable mention:

The woman who played Violet's first patient did an absolutely phenomenal job, especially in her last scene. So heartbreaking.

And now the rambling is over, if you read all this I commend you.

Much love.

[smidnite]

"SEASON'S YEETINGS": A REPOST!

But it's so old it may as well be new?

This fic was written pre-pandemic, summer of 2019. It sat on my phone for ages, waiting for me to edit it again, and I never did. I quickly grew overwhelmed during the blur of Covid and ended up avoiding Tumblr altogether because it was more social than I could handle being. I told myself every winter I'd go back, finish it, and post it to AO3, but that never happened either.

So here is me in December of 2024, determined to not let another year go by without reposting it. I'm leaving the original notes in for prosperity, but it's a bit more edited this time around.

**********

**********

I was watching The Grinch with my nephew, and I came up with this. My first ever posted fic, so I’m sure it’s a hot mess. Non-beta’d, so mistakes abound. Also, I haven’t figured out how to do italics at ALL, so all my emphasis is in ALLCAPS. My bad.

EDIT:

@starkerembarker2 learned me how to do italics!!! WOOOO!!!!!!

Peter, while on his senior year winter break, spends a week at the upstate Avengers compound.

During the day, he trains with the other Avengers, or works with Tony in his lab.

During the evening, he hangs out in the common area, eating dinner and watching holiday movies.

And at night, he creeps down the halls and quietly makes his way into Tony’s room, and slips into his bed.

As far as they’re aware, the team is none the wiser that Tony has been fucking his eighteen year old protégé through the bed for the last six months.

That particular night, they’d no sooner finished dinner and started watching the first Home Alone–

(Peter had raised an eyebrow at Clint. “This movie is SO OLD–” “Hush up, kid. This was Macaulay Culkin in his PRIME.”

“Uh, kid, weren’t YOU the one who insisted on watching quote unquote, classic Christmas movies?” Let it not be said that Tony didn’t know how to stir the pot.

“Okay, yeah, but I meant, like, ‘The Grinch.’”)

–before an alarm went off; A.I.M. having decided now would be a great time to desecrate Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.

(“Fucking JERSEY,” Steve had groused in his Brooklyn drawl, everyone nodding in agreement.)

By the time everyone arrived back at the compound, they were too tired to do anything more than head to the showers and then bed.

Unfortunately, Tony and Peter were so tired that caution was lost to them. They failed to realize that Peter didn’t even attempt to go to his room, and that Tony hadn’t shut the bedroom door all the way. It was enough for them that they collapsed into bed together and fell asleep.

—

Sunrise woke them. Tony smiled; the sun not the only thing rising in the bedroom. A sleep soft Peter, lambent from sun, was a treasure to behold, and entirely too innocent in appearance. Tony took immeasurable delight smoothing his hands up and down Peter’s body, stirring up his youthful arousal until he was a shaking, whimpering mess.

“Tony, please…”

“Please what, Tesoro?”

“Stop teasing!”

“Am I?”

“Tony!”

And as much as he wanted to hear his sweet boy beg, he wanted to be buried within him more; Tony wanted to hear him SING his pleasure. Peter’s harsh sobs and cut off gasps could make a sober man drunk with lust, and when he came—

“!!!!!!”

—when he came, Peter was a vision: his back arched, nipples rosy, the flush high on his cheeks, body glistening from perspiration, staring up at Tony in guileless wonder.

Tony should have felt more guilt than he did for being the one to defile his angel of a boy, but the reality was he was a shameless devil of a man, who would hoard his treasure from the whole world if he could. But to do so would be to stifle Peter's light, and Tony would rather be alone for the rest of his life than to see Peter lose his glow.

For now, it was more that enough to bask in Peter's warmth.

—

Eventually, Tony and Peter made it out of the bedroom, Peter slipping off to his room so they could shower separately before meeting back by the elevator to head up to the common kitchen. Tony stepped out first, Peter close behind, barely managing to stop himself from running into Tony’s back when he stopped short.

Peter peeked from behind Tony’s shoulder to see the team eating breakfast, still in their sleepwear, looking towards the two of them with various forms of amusement.

Clint spun around in his seat to face them. “This compound,” he gestured with his coffee pot in hand, “is Whoville. We are the Who-People, and you two combined are the Grinch.”

Tony raised a brow, trying to figure out Clint's game. “Are you implying we stole your Christmas? Because Christmas hasn’t even happened yet.”

A couple smile crossed Natasha’s face when she murmured, “Christmas came early,” before taking a demure bite of her muffin.

There was clear confusion on Peter’s face as he watched both Steve and Doctor Banner try to contain their laughter.

Coffee safely acquired, Clint turned to face Natasha. “No, see, that was GOOD, Nat, but not the joke I was trying to make." He spun around again to face Tony and Peter. "See, Peter is your heart, and YOU, Tony, are the Grinch who figured out what the true meaning of Christmas is.”

Peter glanced at Tony, KNOWING he was going to regret asking, but…

“What’s the punchline to this joke?”

“'Well, in Whoville they say, that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day’–and really, I mean the Grinch’s Spidey heart came three times today, and Tony 'whizzed with his load through the bright morning light’,” he stated with a flourish, before turning back to his breakfast.

It took a moment. And then–

“OH MY GOOOOD,” Peter whined, before hiding his face in Tony’s shoulder. “You HEARD–OH MY GOD.”

“You said that a few times, too.” Steve’s smirk was WICKED. “You don’t have to sneak around anymore, just…keep the door shut.”

Un. Believable. They’d KNOWN.

“You live in a house full of spies, and you didn’t think we’d find out? How were you that oblivious?”

And before either Tony or Peter could answer, Bruce got up from his seat, tea in hand while heading toward the lab, singing, “I wouldn’t touch that with a thirty-nine and a half foot pooooole!”

—

God I KNOOOOOOOW this was bad. Ugh.

[doublel27]

When we talk about character development for Carlos, all I want more than anything is for him to unequivocally fuck up. Where something is his fault and he needs to take responsibility for it and fix it. Where the show acknowledges that he did something wrong. Where TK gets to be mad at him without apologizing or calling himself crazy or a bitch for being mad. Where Carlos doesn't get to make snide comments like "I thought maybe we broke up" or "I thought you ate with Coop" when TK tries to fix things. Where Carlos has to be like "shit, I messed up, and I need to be the one to take the first step with TK". I know you probably don't agree with me on this, but every time they've fought or had issues, to the best of my recollection TK is the one to step up to start the conversation and fix the issue. I don't mind Carlos having major flaws or doing messed up things like hiding a whole ass wife (in fact I love hot mess characters), I mind that it's always treated as a) not a real flaw or fuck up, or b) equally or mostly TK's fault. I want to see Carlos show real regret, and not for things that are just his anxiety talking - like not having a fire extinguisher in the bedroom or not being able to forsee a plane malfunction - but real, actual things he did that were wrong. And I just don't think we've seen that, even if I suspect you disagree.

Here's the funny thing, sweet nonny, I don't disagree with you as much as you think I do.

I've been shouting from the rooftops alongside others that TK IS the better communicator of the two. TK always brings stuff up to try and fix it. He's the one with strong boundaries and clear communication because he has learned and practiced doing so. TK is always the one giving speeches. TK is always the one modeling solid communication and relationship skills. He is the one who knows how to pull information out of Carlos that Carlos would rather not voice.

Carlos...is not a talker. Oh, he'll sit and help TK talk through one of TK's problems. He's gotten better about sharing his feelings and concerns as the seasons have gone on, but Carlos is a doer not a talker.

We've seen it pretty consistently. When Carlos fucks up or is mad, he tends to shut everything down or he gets snippy. My man is very attractive and he's very acts of service driven and very clearly cares very deeply, but when he has feelings he doesn't want he shuts it all down.

He's also conflict averse and is prone to telling white lies to avoid conflict. He's been like that since day one. FRIENDS the man sent a "You up?" text that TK thought was a booty call and had a candleight dinner with a fish from the farmers market that he "knows it looks like a lot but it really wasn't that big of a deal" CARLOS YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE ABOUT.

This man said with a STRAIGHT FACE "I'm not trying to be your boyfriend, or even your friend if you don't want that." after the infamous red snapper dinner. SIR! You wanted to marry that man from the first moment you met him. Carlos, you damn liar. TK touched you in the middle of a rescue and you then went and mooned over him in a honky tonk until you asked him to dance and y'all got very busy in the bathroom...I JUST WANT TO POINT OUT THAT YOU ARE OCCASIONALLY A LYING LIAR WHO LIES.

I don't know if we're ever going to get a big verbal mea culpa out of Carlos though, Nonny. If that's what you're looking for, it make take awhile.

Carlos's mea culpas (when not things he didn't actually do like fire extinguishers or planes) tend to be actionable items that he does to show he's heard TK or he's sorry or that he's working to be better. It comes in the form of asking TK out or giving TK space in 1x10 when TK says he has no idea what he wants. I know we all wanted Carlos to do a little more fighting there, BUT the last time TK tried to throw out boundaries in 1x02 we had Carlos calling TK crazy. Backing off WAS growth and an offering, that they clearly figured out sometime in the midst of that call.

We see it in season 2, when in 2x08 Carlos absolutely doesn't even attempt to back away from TK after rescuing him, even after his dad shows up, and Carlos heads over there with his chin raised ready to hear something about his relationship with TK as well as his poor choices.

Again in season two, after the fight at the fire station, while TK tries to apologize for what seems like the second time, Carlos insists they've already discussed it enough and he's busy making TK dinner (which is a massive way that Carlos shows he cares - feeding TK. He does it all the time)

Again, in 3.04, we have Carlos move TK in without saying anything as a sign that TK is fully welcome home regardless of whatever transpired before. In 3.13 Carlos learns from his spiral of not being able to be the one to acts of service TK into being better (because love doesn't cure mental illness) and manages to correct his mistakes and get out of the way of TK accessing life saving treatment from Cooper and stops conflaiting it with the acts of service Carlos performs (like putting pizza in the oven).

He's going to DO things not SAY things. And I think Carlos gets a lot of that from his family. Specifically, Gabriel. AND I think he does several of the things that rub him the wrong way with his father in his relationship with TK. Like, his father's attitude with Carlos and the bomber in Bad Call was not that dissimilar to Carlos with TK in 4.03 (although Gabriel was calmer, if not more disappointed) and even Gabriel's ability to shut that shit down got to TK in 4.04.

Apples don't fall far from the tree.

Anyway, in summation dear nonny, I don't disagree that TK has done a lot of verbal processing, apologizing and communication in this relationship. I just don't expect that Carlos is going to respond the way TK responds, because they're two entirely different people with two entirely different backgrounds that fit together like puzzle piecess.

[abusivelittlebunny]

Can't stop thinking of this fic idea I had for Logan x Donald that's making me so soft it hurts....

Falling in and out of Love

Basically Logan and Donald settle down in a little house on the edge of a small town in Canada, to raise Laura. Logan is sure it's only temporary at first, he only started fucking Donald a couple of months ago "out of accident" as he claims ("Accident? Did you fall and land dick first in his ass?" Is what Logan's few friends ask him); they're not in a relationship. They're not. Donald just took it upon himself to help them find a place and move in too and share a bed with Logan; and Logan would love to kick him out or kill him (or so he claims) but the bad thing is, Donald is much better at the whole playing house than he is. Donald gets Laura into the local school with extra classes to catch up with her peers and get a good education, and he gets Logan a surprisingly well enough paying job as a driver in this new town ("Did you suck or threaten the guy who'd be my boss?" Logan sneers and Donald just coos "Shut the fuck up, you ungrateful dick." And adds a little kiss on his cheek). Besides that Donald is better at upkeeping the house and he's... a fantastic cook. Logan hates to admit it but it's true.

It's not some gourmet culinary shit but food that warms your soul and is always seasoned right; hell, even coffee tastes better when Donald makes it even though it's just the same instant powder and hot water. Laura, who's been their grumpy edgy princess this whole time warms up to Donald surprisingly fast from all those delicious home-made casseroles, muffins, fried chicken, pancakes and waffles he makes that are just mind-numbingly good. He got the waffle-maker from the house of a guy he was hired to beat some money out of (because of course HE couldn't be fucked to get a normal job, no, he's now working for some agency to be a little reinforcer and hit-man for hire with his other mercenary dogs following loyally behind him). He was so happy when he brought it home too, beaming like the sun and squealing like some little girl about how happy he was that now he could make Laura some killer waffles. Logan first rolled his eyes but those waffles WERE fucking spectacular.

The situation quickly changed from a temporary arrangement to a weirdly comfortable and domestic one: Logan woke up every day to Donald nuzzling against his jaw, peppering him with sleepy kisses and rubbing at his morning wood. If Logan was too sleepy still to roll over and fit himself between Donald's thighs to lazily rut into him eased by the plentiful mess he left in his hole the night before, Donald would just get under the covers and blow him expertly, swallowing his load down and kissing up his torso afterwards, planting a cheeky kiss to Logan's lips that always made him grimace before getting out of bed and pulling on some sweatpants to go down and make breakfast while Logan went off to shower and get ready for work. He'd always come downstairs to see Donald in his cute little apron swaying his hips to some old country music that made Logan roll his eyes but the moment he'd sit down at the table Donald would pour him his coffee and give him a warm plate of buttered toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. Sometimes he switched the menu up, but the breakfast was always filling but not weighing him down. Laura would come downstairs, eager to receive her portion and Donald's sweet treat of the day, be it waffles, pancakes, cookies or muffins, that even Logan couldn't deny himself a couple of.

Donald was just... like a perfect old-school housewife from the movies, keeping his and Laura's spirits up in the early morning and packing them both lunches to take in to school or work, with plenty of fruit and veggies to keep them healthy. Donald had work start later in the day so he sent them on their way with a kiss to Laura's forehead and another kiss on Logan's lips right outside the door so the nosy neighbors could get an eyeful as Donald purred "have a nice day, honey♡". Not what they expected of the tatted up mercenary with the robot arm for certain, but Logan did have people in the grocery store tell him what a lovely family he has while he was struggling to find everything Donald wrote up on his shopping list. After work he'd come home to Donald cooking dinner with Laura studying and doing her homework at the dining table so Donald could ask her about her schoolwork and even help out, and Logan would just sit near on the sofa, watching with utter peace before they sat down to have dinner together. He never really thought he'd have this, this domestic bliss, watching his ...daughter and his.... well. Partner? It seemed they involuntarily slipped into something like that. But watching them talk and laugh and share a really fucking good meal and afterwards curl up on the couch and watch a movie or anything really that was on the TV before Laura headed off to bed with a yawned good night to them both.

And then it was just him and Donald snuggled up, quiet for a while, before Donald kissed his neck and whispered "I missed you today," and then he'd kiss back instead of admitting that he missed him too and before long they were fucking hot and heavy on the couch (sometimes slipping down onto the floor) with Donald's arms and legs wrapped around him tight enough to bruise but Logan gripped him with just as much need. Donald would give out those sweet little noises of his and gasp for more more always more, but try to keep it quiet in case Laura was still awake. It felt good, crashing down between Donald's thighs after a long day and rut out the daily pent up frustrations, but what he really liked was after that, after he let Donald go to take a shower while he washed the dishes, after that, when he was warm and relaxed and done with every chore of the day and he went up to their room, and changed for bed, and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth while watching his pretty boy clean his pretty body before helping him towel off between kisses and then. Then. When they had nothing else on their mind but feeling each other and they could take their time as they stumbled into bed to fuck to their heart's delight. When he didn't feel rushed by his own needs so he could eat Donald out until he was a shaking whimpering mess, or when he could let his boy take control and tie him to the bed and ride him to heaven and back or when they just took their time touching and kissing and... Logan didn't want to use the phrase "making love" but that was exactly what it was. And Donald wasn't the type to be up for any of that sappy shit before, but things were different now, and even if they ended up fucking hard and brutal and nasty four times in a row, they always made time for a final soft and loving round where they ended up falling asleep tangled in each other with Logan's cock still lodged in Donald's warmth.

But then one day, maybe six or eight months after they moved in, Logan came home to Donald not being home. He didn’t think much of it, Donald sometimes arrived home late, blaming work, sometimes even arriving in the early morning if a job proved to be needing it. Logan just heated up the leftover pasta bake they had and fed Laura and himself before plopping down to watch TV. Laura watched it too for a while but headed off to bed earlier. It wasn't the same without Donald constantly commenting to what was on the screen. He initially thought he'd wait for Donald to come home but after midnight he thought he might as well do all that waiting in bed.

But Donald didn't show up, not even in the morning. It didn't taste as good when he made his own buttered toast and coffee, and he could see Laura looking around for Donald before resigning to Logan's scrambled eggs, which were nowhere near as good as Donald's. They were just eggs, and she could make do for a day, no? He gave her some money to buy lunch, but ready made sandwiches seemed like crap after Donald's carefully created homemade packed lunches of joy. Nevermind. They still had the leftover casserole for dinner at least, and Logan wrapped up the last piece for when Donald comes home. But he didn't come home again that night and Logan packed that piece up for Laura to take in for lunch the next morning.

Laura didn't say anything just munched on her overcooked egg on toast. Logan thought about where Donald could be all day through, the bastard left no messages, and he even attempted to call him at his lunch break, but there was no answer. He knew there was no reason to be frustrated about the situation but when he got home late that night and he was met with Laura asking what's for dinner all he could do is sigh and curse Pierce while dialing up the local pizza joint. He thought of Donald coming home late that night, and how he'd be grumpy fuck with that blond bastard for just taking off without a single message and how Donald would have to be sucking his dick nonstop for a week if he wanted Logan's forgiveness and how good it will feel to have him grovel and whine for cuddles at night which Logan will only give if he's in a generous mood. He went to bed warmed by these spiteful thoughts.

But he felt like a failed parent when all he could offer up for next morning's breakfast was leftover pizza; but at least Laura didn't complain openly, she must have seen the toll Donald being gone took on him. He attempted to cook that night. Strong emphasis on attempt because Donald really made baking a casserole look easy when it was really not and they had to end up scavenging through the half-over-, half-undercooked pasta bake Logan could come up with. Laura ended up sneaking a bag of tortilla chips to her room that they'd only ever open for movie nights and retired early saying she has a lot of studying to do. They all knew Laura liked to study right there where they were, but without Donald, Logan wasn't that great a company. He blamed having a rough day at work on smashing that awful casserole against the wall that he had to clean up for two solid hours, but Laura didn't say anything when she saw the stain on the wallpaper or the bits in the trash the next morning.

The fourth morning with no Donald. Logan drank himself to the floor after the casserole incident the night before so with his pounding headache all he could manage was coffee and butter sort of smeared on toast. Laura saw how he looked like a sack of wet shit ran over by a truck and attempted to cook an egg which resulted in an abstract sunny side up that made her finally ask "When is he coming back?" To which Logan could only groan, "I don't know, kid. I really don't know." The night before, when he was fucking raging at his own incompetence he thought if Donald walked through the door now, he'd punch his lights out for being gone without a single call or message. Beat him to a pulp and then fuck him so hard he'd beg for him to stop with tears. But after that day, where he left six messages on Donald's phone and bought ready-made meals and cans of soup to make dinner out of and watch Laura eat with no joy whatsoever and a very pitying look thrown at his direction, he went to bed thinking he'd do anything to wake up to Donald in bed with him. He wouldn't be mad. He'd just ask him not to do it again.

But he didn't. Fifth morning without Donald left him feeling heavy like a stone as he made sunny side up eggs and buttered toast for breakfast. Laura wrinkled her nose when she bit into hers and the yolk spilled out. "He always makes it just right so it doesn't get all runny." She muttered to which Logan replied after taking a sip of his coffee that seemed too fucking bitter that morning with, "Well, he's not here, is he?" Laura didn't say anything else. When it was just the two of them, it was very quiet. Donald previously joked that it was because they were so fucking similar, that if they had nothing to say they just didn't fucking say a thing. When Donald was around though, they could talk like a normal fucking family. Family? What family? They were not a family. Laura was just fucking grown out of his DNA and Pierce was a fucking enemy of his before they stumbled into a fuckbuddy relationship and since Logan killed Donald's previous boss, he wouldn't be getting paid for capturing him so he just stuck around for some dick. Logan was only filling his head with those stupid old movies Donald loved to watch where the mommy and daddy were living in domestic bliss taking care of their child and he projected that fairy tale nuclear family idea onto their fucked up situation. His dinner was beer and macaroni salad from the gas station he brought home after he volunteered for an extra late shift just so he wouldn't have to face Laura that night, but checking the trash at least he knew she ate one of the pre-packaged sandwiches he got her for dinner.

Sixth morning Logan woke up to Laura crunching down on cereal at the breakfast table. He not only overslept, but he never made it to his bedroom (his bed felt too cold without Donald and he thought he was going slightly crazy being there but not feeling Donald's body in his arms). He only had time to pour some coffee into his thermos and Laura handed him a mugful of cereal to eat while he drove her to school. "Where did you get this?" Logan asked while driving, the cereal in the mug surprisingly not a bad idea, and Laura just shrugged.

"You always give me too much money for lunch. I had extra to buy some cereal and snacks on my way back from school."

Logan sighed, "That's for you to save up and buy yourself something nice." Laura frowned at that.

"But that's what I did."

"No, I don’t mean food. I buy you food. That's for me to do."

"Why?"

Because I'm your father and I need to take care of you even if I'm bad at it, is what Logan wanted to say but the words stuck in his throat. "Just because. I'll buy you cereal and whatever you like just... write me a list, okay?"

Laura sighed, and it would have been so much like Logan if not for the dramatic eyeroll, which was so much like Pierce it made Logan's heart clench.

On his lunch break he didn't have the patience for his coworkers; usually they tried to make friends, banter, joke about with him, they've been teasing him too lately for being a sour cunt because his "he-missus" was gone on a work trip, but he couldn't be bothered to deal with them right now, even if they didn't mean any harm, so he went into town to grab a bite at a good enough diner, the one he went to with Pierce and Laura the first night they arrived in the town, tired and hungry. Then the food felt like fucking heaven, but then again, he got spoiled on Donald's cooking since.

When he went in to order himself a burger he didn't expect to see Laura sitting in a booth doing her school work with Pierce's sunglasses perched on her head with a half eaten burger and milkshake by her side. Logan walked over to her, and when she finally noticed him, she looked like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Logan just sat opposite of her in the booth and corrected himself to the waitress saying he'll dine in instead of take away, "And, I'll be paying for my daughter's meal as well, okay?" And the lady just nodded, but when he turned back to Laura, the sunglasses on her head were pulled down to cover her eyes.

"I told you I'll pay for your food." Logan sighed but Laura just looked away, out the window, taking sips of her milkshake. She usually preferred the chocolate one but now she was drinking strawberry, Donald's favorite.

"You are. You gave me money for it this morning. The school cafeteria just sucks."

"Don't you still have classes?"

"Not for another hour. I still can't take some classes together with the others because I'm too behind. But Miss Bundy said I'm catching up quick in the afternoons."

"That's good to hear." It was really Donald's merit for helping Laura study normally every day after school; Logan wasn't good at that stuff. "I'm sorry I can't help you like he does."

Laura shrugged, knowing instantly who Logan was referring to. "It's not like he's a hyper genius or something. Sometimes I tell him stuff he didn't know or at least pretends he didn't to make me feel smarter. But it's still nice. Even when he curses out my math homework and he asks me to explain it because he's too dumb for it." She hid her smile in her palm, resting her chin on it and gazing out the window to avoid Logan's gaze. "It's fun with him."

Logan swallowed thickly. "I know, babygirl."

"I miss him." Laura sounded very small then.

"I know." Me too.

"Do you think he'll come back soon?" Laura bit at the nail of her thumb. If Donald was here, he'd tut at her playfully and tell her she shouldn't ruin her nails like that. She did it before, in the beginning, but stopped the habit after Donald painted her nails fun colors she liked. He really had a knick for this parenting thing unlike Logan.

"That, I don't know." Logan looked outside too, all of a sudden unable to look at the orange lenses of the sunglasses. Pierce had a couple of the same pair stashes all over because he hated losing them, so no wonder Laura decided to nick one.

"Do you think he'll come back at all?" Laura muttered, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Maybe he got tired of us."

"I don't think so." Logan tried to reassure her, but hearing her so sad also broke his heart.

"Then maybe he's dead."

Logan didn't say anything. Maybe he was. He could very well be. Logan killed mercenaries like Donald without a thought in packs before. The fact that he didn't end up killing Donald when they first met in itself was a miracle but Donald and his kind knew the work they were getting themselves into paid so well because they could die any day easily. Maybe someone like Logan, or some rival gang took it upon themselves to off Donald who was in their way, an everyday occurrence on the job for them and Donald's current employer couldn't be fucked to send a message to his pet soldiers' families that hey, you just lost the love of your life and the closest thing your child has to a parent besides you, you, who is an utter shit at parenting on your own. Donald could be lying in bits in a warehouse, his blood already dry on the concrete and if his boss is gracious enough he'll have his and his coworkers' bodies scraped up and thrown in the river, if not blow the whole place up to give them an unmarked mass grave.

Meanwhile Logan is left here in fucking agony watching their daughter try to hide her tears behind Pierce's sunglasses and seem strong when the family she thought she could have after a nightmare of a childhood got ripped away from her and stomped upon.

"He could be." Logan finally said, clearing his throat to not seem too choked up about it, and Laura turned to him, looking fucking furious.

"How could you say that?!"

Logan didn't expect the outrage at all, "What? You said it first, I just said he could be-,"

"No! You should say he's not and that he'll come home!"

"That's only in those fucking cheesy movies-," Logan tried to wave her off but that just angered her more.

"No it isn't! If you love someone you should have hope! You should have hope he's alive and that he comes back! You should be telling me it's okay and everything will be okay!" She lost her battle with trying to hold her tears back as she slammed her hands on the table but Logan himself was too fucking heartbroken as well not to yell back.

"But I can't fucking tell you that because I don't think that! I could fucking lie if that's what you want but the reality is he could be gutted in some ditch never to be heard of again by now! And no amount of love will make me think everything will be fine because that's not how the world works!"

Laura stood up and screamed profanities at him in Spanish that Logan had only a vague idea of what they could mean before she took her notebook and bag and stormed out of the diner. Logan tried to shout after her, but she was gone. Better that way. Logan truly didn't know how he could've remedy the situation. He slumped down back into his booth just as his plate of food arrived, which he asked the waitress to wrap up together with the rest of Laura's food for take away. He didn't have the stomach to eat lunch and ended up eating it instead for dinner, leaving Laura's portion at her door that night, because she refused to come out and talk to him.

Logan didn't drink that night, just took Donald's hoodie out of the closet, the one he slept in when he wasn't naked, and he burrowed his face in it, inhaling the familiar scent as he laid in the bed that felt too big and empty now. Usually he was grumbling about Pierce hogging up all the space and how they needed a bigger bed but not now. Now he sniffed at the collar of the hoodie and wished for Pierce's body wrapped around his, cuddling close with his warm breath against his lips and his eyes sleepily blinking up at him as he grinned and said something coy. He faintly realized that he hasn't gotten off since the last morning that he saw Donald.

That day Pierce woke him with his warm wet mouth around his cock, sucking slowly, his head bobbing beneath the blanket, taking his time to lick and suck on his balls too and humm as he deepthroated Logan's thick shaft, nuzzling against his crotch. Logan pet his hair sleepily before turning over, to fuck Pierce's skull into the mattress the way he liked, humping his face shallowly because Pierce could take a throat-fucking so well. He spilled down his throat when he should've pulled out and fucked Donald's tight ass until he was unable to fucking walk, not just dump a load into his mouth like a lazy pig that could only enjoy a blowjob but was too tired to ruin his partner's sweet spot. He shouldn't have bothered showering, he should've been bending Donald over the kitchen counter and rutting into that sweet fucking cunt of his, making him cry out and cum over and over again, have him scratch the wooden surface to shreds. Instead of going to work he should've been eating Donald out until he was a sopping wet fucking mess, whining for his cock, and then he should've sucked on his perfect fucking tits until they were fucking bloodshot and unbearably tender. Then he'd have fucked him against the wall so hard, in thar brutal savage pace Donald likes and he'd have played along with Donald's fucking daddy kink and asked him if he likes daddy's cock deep in his little womb breeding him up? Then after sex, when they'd be sharing a cigar while still naked and sticky, he would have asked if Donald wants more kids? If they should get married and adopt another one or two they could raise as their own? If Donald could be a stay at home parent or just find a less dangerous fucking job so Logan wouldn't be worrying about him so fucking much.

That's what he would've done if he knew he wouldn't be seeing Donald again if he doesn't play his cards right.

Because here he was now, ruining his own orgasm that he built up with his coarse hand, which he no longer had a taste for and he just groaned into the hoodie that he wrapped around Donald's pillow so he could hold it through the night: utterly miserable.

Laura said that if you love someone you should have hope. He didn't know how Laura knew that Logan loved Donald even before he himself knew that, but as he dozed off, he found himself chuckling bitterly at that sentence and his last thought was hoping that Donald comes through the door that night and cuddles him to sleep like he used to do.

Seventh morning without Donald he found himself strangely calm. Like he made peace with his situation. Or he just got tired fighting it and resigned himself to losing with dignity. He played one of Donald's old country songs he loved so much and he hummed along it while he made himself coffee and poured Laura cereal, and on a second thought, himself as well. When Laura, who came downstairs determined to not speak to him and remain angry, stared at him in disbelief, he just shrugged.

"Don't tell him I like this sugary shit when he comes back. He'll start putting me on a fucking diet."

"He won't come back." She muttered, but Logan just shook his head and looked at her reassuringly.

"You don't know that. He could be coming back today."

"How do you know that?'

"I don't." Logan lifted his bowl and downed the rest of his cereal how Donald would with his sweet porridges that drove Logan insane before. When he was done he looked back to Laura who didn't miss the source of the habit. "But that doesn't stop me from hoping."

The stars that appeared in Laura's eyes were priceless, truly. She bit her lip and didn't say anything, but when they walked through the door towards the car she took his hand like a child and Logan squeezed it. They weren't good at words, the two of them, but they could still tell each other what they mean without it. In the car, Logan played the rest of Donald's country Playlist, and Laura wore his sunglasses openly through the ride before they arrived to her school.

"Bye, dad. Love you." She said quickly as she closed the door and rushed off before Logan could fully comprehend it, but then he was late for work twenty minutes trying to comprehend it without crying on the side of the road.

At work he engaged in conversation one of his coworkers, which surprised everybody, and asked him about easy to make home-cooked recipes. He made a list and went to the store after, and worked hard but patiently on that cheesy broccoli pasta. He may had to redo it twice, but he didn't give up. It paid off in the end by the look on Laura's face. She had seconds.

"Alright, I'm gonna put the rest away for if he showes up tonight, if not, you can take it for lunch tomorrow, deal?" Logan asked nonchalantly, and Laura nodded with a hopeful smile.

They sat down and watched an old western movie, one of Donald's favorites after dinner, something they haven't done in a week now, and Logan watched with a small smile a Laura's yawns turned bigger and more frequent until she completely dozed off leaning against his side. He gently scooped her up and off the couch after turning the TV off, and took her to her bedroom where he tucked her into bed gently. He kissed her little forehead and whispered a "Goodnight, kiddo," before he turned to leave, but stopped as an insistent hand tugged on his sleeve.

"You'll wake me up if mommy gets home, right?" Laura asked with a sleepy kitten yawn, looking adorably soft. "Promise me."

"I promise. Sleep now, love." He didn't question why Pierce was now mommy in her mind but he didn't think he'd mind.

"Okay, goodnight, daddy." Laura closed her eyes, and Logan swallowed thickly; he didn't know if his heart could take being called dad by his daughter twice the same day when she has never done it before. Nor did she call Pierce mommy or anything like it before.

"Goodnight, Laura." He whispered before planting another little kiss on her forehead, getting up slowly and shutting the door quietly as he left.

He wiped at his wet eyes as he went downstairs to wash up, a smile still stuck on his face, and he thought about how he should learn how to make Laura some pancakes just as the front door opened.

It felt so surreal now, seeing Pierce walk through the door, like it was a dream come to life. Logan was stuck standing there like he just saw a fucking ghost as Pierce tiredly shrugged down his bag and coat; he looked like he's truly been through it; his one whole arm was in a cast in a sling wrapped around his neck, his trousers and shirt weren't ones he's ever worn before and were probably bought recently but they were still caked in dirt and blood. His prosthetic hand was missing two fingers and his hair looked damp with sweat, matted with even more blood. He had bandages around his neck and shoulder with a dark purple bruise fading around his right cheekbone and his split lip bled as he grinned wide at the sight of Logan. He was still so beautiful.

"Honey, I'm home. Did you miss me?"

Instead of answering, Logan found himself crossing the distance to the door in record speed and pressing Donald's sore and broken body against it forcefully, not caring about the soft gasp of pain leaving his lips because he was crashing his own against them immediately. It was always Donald who was desperate before, not to say he wasn't now, but Logan could easily outmatch him at the moment, kissing him like he was trying to devour him alive, wrapping his hands around him until Donald cried out in pain.

"Fuck, I have a couple fractures ribs, go easy on me, big guy."

"You're never leaving ever again." Logan growled against his mouth, keeping Donald's jaw in his hand to make him focus. "I don't give a fuck what your boss says, I don't give a fuck how much money he offers. You're never leaving my sight again-"

"I can't even go to the store? Or the bathroom?" Donald's chuckle was cut short by Logan's glare. "Alright, okay, alright, I'm not gonna leave, I promise. This was just... a major shitshow, okay? I didn't expect to be gone this long at all. I've already packed my boys up and told them we quit. My unit is going where I'm going. This shit we've been through, I'm telling you-,"

"You can tell me later." Logan took Pierce by the hand, dragging him through the living room and up the stairs.

"Right, I need a shower, good call-,"

"No, you need to say hi to our daughter first."

"Our... daughter?" Donald stopped in his tracks just as they reached Laura's door, his eyes so big and shocked by Logan's words. One of them was bloodshot.

"She asked me to wake her up when mommy arrives back home. She made me promise." Logan watched as Pierce's eyes softened and welled up with warm tears, his laugh sounding like diamonds as he sobbed into it. Logan pulled him close by the back of his neck, planting a kiss to his temple before looking him in the eye, "She missed you a lot. I missed you a lot."

"Careful, I'll think you're in love with me or something," Pierce's smile was so fucking bright Logan had to kiss it again. And again.

"Think later, say hi to Laura now, you dumb cunt."

Pierce giggled and kissed back before opening the door. His "Hi, baby," was so soft and sweet, Laura only sighed at it first, turning in her sleep until Donald sat down on the edge of her bed and gently cooed her awake with light pecks to her cheek. "Laura, sweetheart. Mommy's home."

Laura finally blinked her eyes open and when she caught sight of Pierce she threw her arms around him immediately, squeezing him hard, but Donald only laughed, even if in pain.

Maybe if he was a better father, Logan would've told Laura to go back to sleep, it was late after all but instead he let her drag the both of them down by their hands to show Pierce "the delicious dinner daddy made" which made Donald fucking squeal and look at him with fucking heart eyes.

Laura forced Donald to eat the portion they left for him while she talked about their week without him, and Donald had to admit that was some good food. She was like a completely new child, you couldn't stop her from talking your ear off until she broke off in yawns again, sleepiness finding her once more, and she held onto Logan's and Donald's hands again as this time they were the ones guiding her back to bed.

"You're not gonna leave again, right?" Laura yawned once she was tucked into bed once more.

"No, baby, I won't. I promise." He wiggled his robotic hand's remaining digits. "I'd make it a pinky one, but some son of a gun crushed it. But I'll be busy staying at home and getting better and then I'll make a new one and then I'll make it into a pinky promise, okay?"

"Mhm, okay," Laura closed her eyes as Donald kissed her forehead and whispered, "goodnight, mommy. Love you."

"Love you too, babygirl." Donald's voice broke adorably and he sniffed back some tears before they could erupt as he made his way to the door.

Logan couldn't stop smiling at him even as Donald rolled his eyes at his smug expression, and bid Laura goodnight again before closing the door behind themselves.

"Fucking hell." Pierce whispered to himself before chuckling and dropping his forehead on Logan's shoulder. "We're parents."

"Yep." Logan chuckled back, rubbing his hands over Donald's back and kissing his neck.

"Never would've thought... but... it's nice. Real nice."

"It is."

"You like it too?" Donald peered up at him with a tired but hopeful smile. "This arrangement?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Logan smirked as he added, "For a while. Maybe longer, if I do."

"You remembered that one?" Donald laughed with big eyes and snuggled further into Logan's embrace.

"How could I forget that country shit you play daily?" Logan teased, dragging Donald along to their bedroom without breaking their embrace, stepping together like fucking penguins and it made Pierce giggle. "Besides, Laura wanted me to play it a couple times while you were gone."

"Aww, my baby got my good taste," Pierce grinned up at Logan as he shoved him gently down on the bed so he could help him undress. He really let himself become a pillow princess out of exhaustion, barely moving on his own as Logan removed his clothes.

"So it's over?" Logan asked after a minute of comfortable silence as he peeled Donald's undershirt off of him.

"Yeah. Done deal. The bag? Filled it up with a bit of extra cash I borrowed for my troubles. They won't come looking for it, trust me. I made sure," Donald had that smile on that told him he probably killed most if not all of his bosses. He sighed as Logan started taking his trousers off and leaned back to raise his hips. His torso was littered with red and purple bruises. "It wasn't a good one. The company and the job. I lost one too many good men. Besides, it'll be a pain in the ass to repair my arm without use of the other so I need to find a good mechanic. Fucking animal tried to crush it to bits."

"I'll help. Just tell me what to do." Logan hummed as he threw Donald's clothes in the laundry basket. He frowned as he realized something. "No underwear?"

"It's a bit more complicated than repairing a car, Logan." Pierce massaged his nosebridge, wincing at the cut on it.

"Can't be harder than your fucking five star pasta bake. Come on. Just tell me what to do and let me help." Logan walked back to the bed, watching Pierce's beautiful body beneath him and thumbed at the bruises on his thighs. They had a sort of fingerprint quality to them. "Where did your underwear go?"

Donald snorted, "Don't know if you noticed, but most of the clothes I left in are gone. Got fucking ruined. I got the new ones at a gas station. Long story."

Logan quirked an eyebrow and fit his hands on the marks, spreading Donald's thighs and making him wince as he lifted his hips.

"Love the enthusiasm, honey, but I do need a shower first." Pierce bit his lip and caught Logan's hand before it could reach his ass. "Let me clean up, okay?"

"Did someone fuck you?" Logan asked bluntly, and everything was still for a minute.

Donald swallowed heavily before managing a weak chuckle. "My boss wasn't very happy when he heard I have a hubby and kid at home that I want to return to."

Logan's jaw clenched at the implication and he placed Donald's hips back down, leaning over him to kiss his face all over while growing, "I'll fucking tear him to pieces, I'll fucking rip him to shreds-,"

"It's okay, hon, I took care of it, okay? Most of them anyway. Left some for you to have fun with, though, because I'm such a good wife." Pierce cooed, raining his own kisses onto Logan, sighing into their embrace. "I'm just a bit sore now, so we gotta put that fun on hold for a minute, yeah? I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Those fuckers do though. I'll hunt down every last one of them." Logan growled into their kiss, and Donald wrapped his legs around him, purring.

"Such a good hubby you are, you know that? Makes me think you might actually love me, or something," Pierce chuckled, but Logan could hear the hope in his voice.

"Well. I did keep hope that you'd come back and I could tell you all the things I still wanted to do with you." Logan gave a small smile and Donald nudged him with a bratty impatient whine.

"Like what, like what?"

Logan got back up cheekily and headed to the joined bathroom as he called back, "I'll tell you tomorrow, let's get you cleaned up first."

"Tomorrow?! Come on, I almost died several times, Wolvie!"

Logan came back with a warm wet towel and a bar of soap and shrugged, "But you'll be here tomorrow, so it can wait until then. You'll be here, won't you?"

Pierce pouted as Logan begun cleaning him gently, "I won't be able to sleep if you don't tell me now," he said that but he yawned bigger and bigger as Logan rubbed his aching body.

"I wouldn't trust that." Logan hummed as he cleaned finally between Donald's thighs, careful not to hurt him too much as he dipped in and Pierce bit his lip.

"Can you at least give me a hint?"

"It's about our future." Logan took Pierce by the legs and pulled his body closer, so his butt was right at the edge of the bed. Logan kneeled down in front of it and said, "This was also something I wanted to do to you."

Pierce didn't get the chance to ask what because Logan's tongue found its way into Donald's sweet tight hole he loved so much. Pierce was whining and gasping and trying to claw at his hair with his metal hand as Logan ate him out, slow and deep and sloppy, the way he knew Pierce would go insane from and get a beard burn. He made him cum like that, in a fairly short amount of time. He remembered just how Donald liked it, where his sweet spot was, and he licked his cum up from his belly and fed it to Pierce in a filthy kiss.

"Your turn, your turn-," Donald whispered coyly as he licked the remainder off his tongue, "I'll suck it, let me-,"

"You're tired, you need to get some rest," Logan tried to chide him, but Donald nipped at his jaw.

"What I need is my husband's big fucking cock in my mouth," Donald whined, licking at the shell of Logan's ear. "I've been craving to suck you off all fucking week. Craved you in my ass too, but those bastards ripped me up too bad for that now. Give me this at least."

"You want it? You want me to be your husband? Want me to marry you?" Logan moaned and grinded his erection against Donald's hip, still confined in his boxers, chuckling at Donald's eager nodding. "You wanna marry me, baby?"

"Yes, please," Donald gasped into their wet kiss, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth and groaning, "I wanna be your wife so bad, wanna be yours, all yours, daddy."

"Yeah? You are," Logan hastily kicked off his underwear and straddled Donald's chest, feeding him his cock. He kept Donald to a moderate pace by his hair, the slutty little thing not minding his injuries and trying to throat him down all the way. He pet his face with his other hand and Donald looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of his and those pink lips stretched around his cock, and Logan thought he was the luckiest fucking man alive. "My pretty little wife. How gorgeous you are. And all mine."

Pierce moaned his confirmation around his cock as he swallowed him deep and it didn't take long before Logan found himself on the edge of his climax, but pulled out instead of cumming down Donald's throat. He was met with a bratty whine right until he started jerking himself hastily and then Pierce opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out, and looking up at Logan with those fucking eyes that made Logan cum so hard. He painted Donald's darling face with it, covering him in thick plentiful ropes, the fruit of being pent up for a week, and even leaving a generous amount disposed on Pierce's pink tongue which he swallowed diligently.

"Fuck, you did miss me," Donald chuckled, licking at his lips before Logan took the towel to clean him up. "What a fat fucking load. Your right hand wasn't a good enough company? Neither the girls in town?"

"Why would I need any of those when I have a wife at home who takes care of me?" Logan leaned back down and kissed Pierce on the mouth, something he never willingly did after a blowjob and it made Donald giggle and wrap him in a tight hug.

"You mean it?" Pierce asked later in the evening, once Logan was already half asleep against his back. "The stuff about marriage?"

"Why did you think I was saying I wanted to talk about out future?" Logan sleepily grumbled and kissed Donald's nape. "Sleep now, we'll talk about it more tomorrow."

"Okay, g'night," Pierce snuggled in closer, and after a couple minutes added with a barely audible whisper. "Love you."

Logan smiled, "Love you too."

[dxcinhx]

dropping some thoughts about vida here

i started watching this show for melissa barrera and i absolutely enjoyed it and have rewatched some episodes bc it's very entertaining

s3 felt kind of different, it was almost like the sisters switched roles at some points

i might be reading too much into it, but in the first few eps as emma and nico's relationship was going well i would look at emma's face and be like she's happy but she's still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and of course it did. and i was so sad to see her clam up again and fall back into her whole "vulnerability = weakness" thing. for a few episodes she just looked so dead inside like she was seriously depressed and triggered with everything going on, like nico's secret wife and her awful dad making himself known

i love lyn so much but i need her to be single. i'm so glad she finally realized where her true priorities lie and that she needs to work on turning into a chameleon with the men in her life but i just hate that it happened in the last like 20 minutes of the series finale

side note but i was not expecting lyn to get so into religion for a hot minute. i mean i understand that it was her yet again molding herself to the people in her life, so i think she snapped out of it once her father showed his true colors but still like it was so jarring. god the man gave me such awful vibes and the last scene of him and emma after she confronted him was legitimately hard to watch

the sisters spent so much time apart and on different pages this season it made me sad :( i completely understand why but i do miss the moments in the first episode or in earlier seasons when they were sisterly and messing with each other

i love that mari had some more time this season to build herself up a little more and yes this is cruel to say but her dad dying is a blessing ! now she can finally look after herself and find people who appreciate what she does. honestly that man pretty much killed himself after he kicked out the only child who actually took care of him. ladies ask not what u can do for machismo but what machismo can do for u

speaking of this family i can't STAND johnny oh my GOD get off my screen and get away from the women in ur life all u do is hurt them

god i wish this new generation of shows had longer seasons. a 6 episode season is nowhere near enough to develop the characters and storylines better (even tho this season the episodes weren't all 30 min like s1 and s2). i was like holy shit things are happening so fast it's one terrible thing after the other but of course they are, they only have like 5 hours to tell the story!!

i'm really fond of this show and how witty it is, its integration of mexican and american and mexican-american cultures, the spanglish, the butch rep!! everything

actually one of my favorite moments this season was when lyn was talking to that european dude at her bf's mom's bday party (fuck her bf and his mom by the way holy shit he was such a weirdo) and she was talking about how difficult it is to be perceived as mexican by gringos while still not being mexican enough for mexicans. when she said she couldn't even hold a conversation in english or spanish i was like u read my mind. i'm literally incoherent. anyway it really resonated with me as an immigrant and i think it's such an important conversation to have!!

anyway emma and lyn repaired their relationship and their bigoted father is rotting in hell and they keep the bar and eddy's back too and everything is going better than ever, they told me so themselves <3

[bahllinsqrews]

Foxes on a Mountain

San x Male!Reader x Wooyoung

----------------------------------------

Minors DNI

Dominant!San

Threesome

Submissive!Wooyoung and reader

Pet names: White Fox( reader )

---------------------------------------

The night was young, the house of ATEEZ was a little too quiet, considering it was both San and Wooyoung along with you there. You all were a little drunk thanks to the party the whole crew went to, the rest of them stayed but you three were too drunk to stay, so Yunho and Yeosang took you all home. That didn't stop any of you from having fun.

Wooyoung was watching TV in the living room and you were sitting beside him, when San plopped on the side of the couch that was unoccupied. Though something was a little off, meaning the small growing tent in his pants from the alcohol. You and Wooyoung both took notice, keeping quiet while just watching as San kept a pokerface while it continued to grow. He felt the eyes on him, then looked over, making him smile. "See something...you both like...or something?" He asked, slightly still dazed. Both the foxes said nothing at first, the next moment though.

Both you and Wooyoung were on your knees, licking and kissing at the massive rod San possessed, clothes strewn about the floor, Wooyoungs's hand on your cock, and your hand on his, jerking each other off in the same. San's left hand was on your head, and his right on Woo's neck, you took San down your throat while Young took to his balls, making him hiss and curse in inescapable pleasure. "Cute little foxes~" San cooed, tapping you both to stand then kneel on the couch, side by side. His mind went to you first, pushing himself into you with no time to spare, while his fingers went into Wooyoung, both his hips and his hand moving at the same pace to have you both moan his name like little whores.

Wooyoung shared a kiss with you, hot and steamy as San switched holes in a pattern between you and the other. You both were reaching your limit but then you heard San speak up. "I don't want either of you cumming yet, I want us all to do it together~" this made you both resist, him moving his hand and hips faster as he got closer and closer. He cursed again, leaning in the give Wooyoung a few marks, making you whine a little. "No worries, my little white fox, you'll get yours...soon enough~" he promised, moaning and groaning in the process as he switched holes again, giving you what he promised you. "I can't...take any more...~" Wooyoung huffed out past his moans, San nodded and tapped you both for the okay to cum all together and when you did, all three of you made a big mess, though San wasn't done with either of you.

San took Wooyoung off the couch and he sat beside the action as the big man smashed your face down into the couch, pounding you endlessly into your fucked out, blanks drawn state of mind. Wooyoung had a quick jerk off session to it as his and your juices came out. Next was Wooyoung, mating pressed into the floor, it was your turn for a solo session. Both of you again, being fingered by San's big hands while you both licked his cock clean, only to make him cum again and get completely covered in it. Next was him face fucking you while Wooyoung watched from underneath, then Wooyoung in a backbending position, you sucked woo off here. Each a hot and steamed season of passion and drunk lust, to the point where the three of you laid on the couch, asleep with a blanket over you all as the rest came home.

Yeosang spoke up. "Looks like they had a party here too." He giggled Jongho's laugh coming into your ears at his words. Hongjoong only smiled as him and Seonghwa picked up a little. "Well we did kinda send them home from the fun after all, but at least they had fun." The captain said before every one went to their shared rooms.

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Live thoughts as I watch Hawaii Five-0 ep 9x4- enjoy 👀

Christ this man looks GOOD

The vest? The hat? The scruff? Lord have mercy

And the wedding band makes him look even sexier

Something about Steve saying “that’s my granddaddy” is so cute but so hot? Idk man I’m unwell

I deadass read “Apana” as my name and got excited

I wanna be that toothpick 🫦

Danny’s transatlantic accent is killing me (and unforch not in a good way 💀)

The music? Incredible. Love the vibe.

Tani as a lounge singer is not something I knew I needed

And Adam with the mustache PLS 😭

Smoking is icky and my asthmatic ass would die but everything he does is hot so fml (fuck my lungs) I guess

I know this mf did not just raw dog that champagne like an animal

Nooo old timey Tani :(

LOU omg my fave look at you in your lil get up

I seriously cannot handle Danny’s (or Milton’s ig) voice 🫠

Chew on that toothpick one more time you sexy son of a bitch, see what happens

The sleeves rolled up above his forearms? OOF

I wanna tug those suspenders off and- nvm

Jerry with the gun okay buddy!!

Okay so clearly Steve gets his reckless gene from his granddaddy

This whole scene of them entering the house has me cracking tf up

Yes SIR Detective McGarrett you threaten that man

The way his tongue peeks out to mess with the toothpick I’m weak

“Stay.” YES SIR

Oh sheet it do be December 7th 😔

What I would give to wake up to that sleepy face

Thank god Danny’s regular voice is back 🥲

“Why, with the face” I love them sm wtf

I love when they type random things on their little techy board and we all pretend they’re actually doing something

“No pool.” “No pool.” No pool! My man is so smart

No way you found this old ass car there homie

He’s in a suit AGAIN do they want me to DIE?

Yeahh babyyy the suit jacket is off 🥵

Why can’t u run a restaurant and be a cop Steven don’t be an idiot

Look how sad you’ve made your bestie

Oh now we’re both quitting? Lame.

That little growled “yes” I’m feral

In conclusion: 1940s Steve McGarrett = hot. Present day Steve McGarrett = also hot.

Thank you all for joining me on this journey 🫡 This is my fourth (?) watch of the show but my first time braving seasons 8-10 so we’ll see how many more ficlets write themselves

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff: FLCL Grunge

or How Not to Grasp Why "Bottled Lightning" Exists

I'll preface this by saying that these recent "seasons" of Fooly Cooly have not ruined the original. That's like if you got a bottomless bag of tropical Skittles, every other minute you get a black Twizzler or flavorless candy corn piece thrown in that you aren't forced to eat but constantly get weirded out that they were in there in the first place. What is bad is that we're up to three sequels of FLCL & none of them even range to being on par with the original in terms of engaging memorability. I'm not the type to rag about X or Y being forgotten online days after it was just released, but it stings seeing a beloved anime have sequel series that everyone wants to forget because nobody asked for them. This isn't like Trigun Stampede where it got to have a newfound fanbase in spite of the backlash of diehards, we're on the 4th story and you might as well imagine the tumbleweeds. It doesn't help that the expectations didn't come with presentable execution... because Grunge was bad.

I'm honestly just waiting for Uzumaki at this point

It's ironic that while my reviews are about animated media, I don't really discuss the animation given my minimal expertise; I'm more of an emotional critic than a technical one. FLCL Grunge is the exception because it feels like a mess. It's like an enhanced PS1 game that looks graphically better than Berserk 2016 but has that same quality of stiff, choppy action and inconsistent blending of 2D imagery. You just wonder why this couldn't just be 2D? You would believe the CG studio responsible had this as their first-ever credit, but it's not as Montblanc's actual first feature had somehow better animation than this, and that was back in 2012. So either it was rushed or Production IG had no clue what they were going for. Worst aspect just has to be the rock humans because they can be so awkward to see and oh yeah, close but different topic.

Why are there Thing people?

Fooly Cooly I don't think anybody was ever in it for the lore. It was a miniseries where the pieces you could put together offered some sense while having open-ended questions. Even though the OG was far more grounded despite itself, I'm not against having aliens in these sequels because I'm all for things getting weird to spice up the purposeful mundanity. My only issue is the rock people are all we really have in this story when there could exist other species. It's a symptom of a larger problem these sequels have where things exist with none of the deserved flesh. Most enjoyed the OG more for the personal journey, not really piecing everything involving Medical Mechanica. With this, it just feels like they're trying to get Matpat's attention with all the stuff Haruko does with very surface-level backstories regarding the main characters. You know as much about what happened to Rockies as you do anything about Shin or Orinoko, which heavily pales in comparison to the previous three MCs. All this wrapped in an undercooked 3 episodes that is, and I'm not kidding...

Just a worse take of The Simpsons "Trilogy of Error"

One of my favorite story tropes is when everything takes place in one day, bonus points for interconnecting multiple stories into one. They do that here like in The Simpsons episode where everyone's involved in one crazy night. The problem again stems from that I barely care about the MCs enough and while there exists setup, you only get to know so much before it's over. It took episode 3 for me to give somewhat a fuck and even then they had to rush the climax all for a shitty reveal that it was a prequel this whole time. Giving Progressive its credit, at least we got time to grasp the characters. Any interconnected throughline is all for the climax which misses the point of the story structure. In the end, it felt like nothing. Whether it's a positive or not that it was only three episodes is debatable, but man...

Haruko was still hot. Take your pennies for a nickel

Making this review wasn't so much about disliking Grunge as it was about saying the original Fooly Cooly wasn't a fluke. To say that is like saying the unique animation structure of Into the Spiderverse was a fluke that couldn't be utilized well anywhere else post-release. I don't hate Grunge or think it's the worst anime ever, but this didn't subside the disenfranchisement that stemmed from an OVA that could work as an anthology. Something is only lightning in a bottle when you otherwise don't paint forgettable story elements with average to subpar imagery and have The Pillows carry every scene with their music. If this wasn't FLCL, it was a pretty underwhelming anime. As it is, it's another sequel that mistakes having ambition and familiarity for being engaging and resonating.

2 Out Of 5; An Erectile Dysfunctional Season