#gonna be thinking about this for the next 10 years

[traveler-at-heart]

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.

[parker-artio]

The Batfamilys ages don’t make sense.

Or me dissecting the timeline of when the bats first met and why their ages are fucked up!

This is a lot of math that I did mentally while washing the dishes, I apologize if some of it is inaccurate, but I did the best I could.

(And yes, well all know their ages are fucked up, but I realized they’re a lot more fucked up then anyone first notices)

-I am ONLY doing the main family btw-

SO-

The very first Batfamily members to meet were Bruce and Alfred, it was kinda straightforward, Bruce was a baby Alfred was around the same age as his parents at early to mid 20’s.

List of the ages so far:

(I will be doing this every time)

Alfred Pennyworth: 24 ish

Bruce Wayne: 8



The second was Bruce and Dick (obviously), but this is kinda a odd one, but it’s still straightforward, Bryce went to The Flying Grayson’s show, he saw his parents die, and Y’know he decided right then and there he was going to be a foster parent. Good for him. But Dick is mentioned to be about like from 8 to 9 here. It’s more implied that he’s 8, because it’s supposed to be a parallel thing, to Bruce, with both of his parents dying in front of him at 8- so that the age I’m going to use for the beginning of this.

Bruce was supposed to be Batman for about 2-3 years before he took in Dick, so that’s what I’m going by to assume his age. (DC admit this man is mid fourths to early fifty’s , stop saying he’s early 40’s- he’s clearly not.) So he dropped out of college pretty early on, so I’d say like 19? Then he went on his trip around the world for a year or so and ended up at the League of Assassins to where he stayed for like- 2 to 4 years before he came back to Gotham. So I’m going to use the median of 2 and 4 and get that it was 3 years. (Same with the years before he took dick in, rounding out to 2.5) therefore Bruce was about- 23.5 ish when he took in Dick. And if you do some subtraction he’s only 17 years older than Dick, which works in a basic timeline of there being a couple references to Bruce being a ‘teen dad’.

Ages so far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 39 ish

Bruce Wayne: 23.5 ish

Richard Grayson: 8

Say what you want, but Barbara is apart of the batfam- I know some people like to say she’s a bit like Huntress and isn’t- but to me she is. She is the original Batgirl, and is very much apart of the Batfamily to me.

So she’s older than Dick, I’m not sure how much older, but I’m her first appearance (when she wasn’t being shipped with Bruce) she was about 2 years older than him (?- I think I can’t find anything on google with any confirmation and I don’t have old comics on hand rn).

But her first appearance was when Robin (dick) was about 12-13, I’m just gonna put 12.5 for the sake of putting 12.5.

Meaning her first appearance was when she was about 14 ish. And was about- 6 years later.

Ages so far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 45 ish

Bruce Wayne: 29.5 ish

Richard Grayson: 12.5

Barbara Gordon: 14

The next is Bruce meeting Jason. To figure out the ages here we first need to figure out the amount of time between him meeting Dick and meeting Jason. So let’s talk about the age gap between Jason and Dick.

It’s believed that their age gap is from 5-8 years, so let’s just go to the middle and say it’s 6.5 years. Jason is supposed to be 12 when Bruce first meets him, when he trying to tirejack the Batmobile. So if we add 6.5 to 12, Dick is about 18, meaning it’s been around 10 or so years. Which actually lines up believe it or not. (The old writers could actually stick to a timeline unlike the newer ones.)

But I can’t find any older comics to figure out if Bruce took Jason in right then and there, or he saw him again about a year later and took him in then. So let’s just say Jason is 12.5 when Bruce takes him in.

Ages so Far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 49 ish

Bruce Wayne: 33 ish

Richard Grayson: 18

Barbara Gordon: 20 (This also would be post paralysis as she was 19 when it happened)

Jason Todd: 12.5

When Tim comes into the family is when it gets confusing. We’re not even starting with the first time he met the family, we’re starting back with Flying Grayson’s Show.

So, Dick as we’ve established is 8. Jason is about 6.5 years younger than him. Making Jason about 1.5 when the show happens, but a very often mentioned age gap in all of the batkids- is between Tim and Jason. As Tim was 13 when Jason died. Jason was 16. Tim was 16 when Jason came back. And Jason was 19.

It’s a three year gap, therefore, Tim couldn’t have attended that show. But I don’t think anyone did the math there, meaning that’s where the first timeline inconsistency starts to occur. But it’s okay, because in a few versions Dick was said to be about 11, meaning Jason would’ve been 4ish and Tim about a year old. Most babies don’t remember stuff that happens in this time, but it is possible, so I’ll just scratch it up to multiple different world and the writers forgetting.

But when Tim does finally meet the family he is 13, as it is right after Jason’s death when he is 16, he becomes Robin because Dick basically hands him the suit, when Tim tells him Batman needs a new Robin, and yeah.

So a three year gap. Timeline a bit messed up, but it can’t get that much worse, right? (Wrong.)

Ages so far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 52 ish

Bruce Wayne: 36ish

Richard Grayson: 21

Barbara Gordon: 23

Jason Todd (assumed dead): 16

Tim Drake: 13

So the next person is always a bit confusing, some think it’s Steph, others think it’s Cass, but Cass was batgirl first, however Steph was Spoiler first- They kinda started at about the same time- so I’ll just smush em in together.

So Cass is said to be older than Jason by only months. And they both come in at about a year of Tim being Robin, putting Cass at 17, which also doesn’t line up with the timeline, as Bruce says she is 16 (I can’t find the panel but it’s in one of he 2000’s runs I believe I can’t confirm exactly) but it’s close in age, so I’ll let it go.

Steph is said to be both the same age as Tim, but other times older, so I’m going to place her at 15 here. A year older than Tim since it’s only been a year since Tim started as Robin.

Ages so far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 53 ish

Bruce Wayne: 37 ish

Richard Grayson: 22

Barbara Gordon: 24

Jason Todd (assumed dead at 16): 17

Tim Drake: 14

Cassandra Cain: 17

Stephanie Brown: 15

So the next is Damian- obviously.

So Damian is 10 when he comes, it’s mentioned multiple times. Yay an easy to confirm age, we love it!

Jason also comes back.

However Tim is mentioned to be 16 here, so we can easily just get everyone’s ages from doing the math from their ages previously. Most people when calculating their ages skip Steph and Cass and say it’s a six year gap between him and Tim, which does line up, but without Steph an Cass there it still fucks with the timeline a bit.

Ages so far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 56 ish

Bruce Wayne: 40 ish

Richard Grayson: 25

Barbara Gordon: 27

Jason Todd (now alive again): 19

Tim Drake: 16

Cassandra Cain: 19

Stephanie Brown: 17

Damian Wayne: 10

Now we’re on Duke. Which is where it gets all fucked up.

So Google says Duke is four years older than Damian, and his first appearance is when Damian is 11 or 12iah, making Duke about 15 or 16, in his first appearance. But also in this time, DC stopped aging Tim all together, they supposedly aged Cass down, and Steph closer to Jason’s age. Which fucks the whole timeline up, but let’s not get into that.

We can just go from Damian’s age to get the rest, meaning it was a two or so year gap from Damian arriving to when Duke first started in the ‘I Am Robin’ movement and soon after became Signal

Ages so far:

Alfred Pennyworth: 58 ish

Bruce Wayne: 42 ish

Richard Grayson: 27

Barbara Gordon: 29

Jason Todd: 21

Tim Drake: 18

Cassandra Cain: 21

Stephanie Brown: 19

Damian Wayne: 12

Duke Thomas: 16

This is what their ages would’ve been if they didn’t continue to age Damian up and no one else, so here’s what ages they SHOULD be. (This is for you Tim.)

Since Damian is 14-15 in comics currently- everyone should be a bit older too- but DC refuses to age them up. (I’m going to use 15 just because, making it a THREE year difference.)

Ages they should be:

Alfred Pennyworth: 61 ish (I don’t care if he’s dead)

Bruce Wayne: 45 ish

Richard Grayson: 30

Barbara Gordon: 32

Jason Todd: 24

Tim Drake: 21

Cassandra Cain: 24

Stephanie Brown: 22

Damian Wayne: 15

Duke Thomas: 19

Someone needs to ask Duke how college is going, or ask Tim how it feels to drink. Maybe someone should ask Dick how a mid-life crisis feels, when you’re actually close to the mid-life age. (He’s had them before, but now he’s actually closer to the midlife age.) Have someone ask Bruce how it feels to be in his 40’s and still get called hot, to get called ‘beekeeper age’ by people- and still get voted hottest man of the year, yearly.

There’s so many untapped humor opportunities that come with their chronologically accurate ages. But DC is full of pussies.

#DCpleaseletTimage

[cosmosluckycharms]

Show☆Time

this night has opened my eyes

After a while of you sobbing quietly on the floor of your room, you finally got up and locked in.

First off, you changed out of your performer costume into a more casual outfit.

Your performer costume was soaked from the water, so you hung it up to dry and clean later.

You needed a plan

so you started a plan.

You had lots of ideas planned out. All of which were very elaborate.

Different ways to get them all together to make amends, different ways for them to talk, plans to make everyone apologize and get together to become a troop.

You get out your comically large whiteboard and regular-sized markers and start planning on what to do.

You spend a couple of hours finding ideas, only for you to keep running into problems.

You didn't know what to do.

You were stuck.

You decided to just walk to the park to tell Tsukasa you would have to quit, it was nearby anyway.

Walking out of the manor wasn't hard, they wouldn't notice you walking out. They were away at whatever rich people jobs they had.

You never saw them at night, and you never understood why.

As you made your way to the theme park, you tried to make yourself as small as possible to not get seen by anyone bad.

You tried to calm your nerves by thinking of memories to keep your mind off the whole situation.

You think about how one time when you were younger, around 10 years old, while getting up to get water you saw Nightwing in costume in the kitchen.

You saw as he froze like he was shocked to see you walk in.

You smiled at him and waved, you were half asleep and assumed he was a hallucination.

He waved and smiled back to you and you just walked back to your room.

For a while, you assumed that either Nightwing was coming into the manor to steal something, or he was just visiting.

Either that or you were dreaming.

You assumed you were dreaming.

You smiled at the memory. Nightwing has been one of your favorite vigilantes since you were younger.

You liked how his smile seemed to light up the room.

You liked how his smile reminded you of your older brother, Dick's smile.

You wanted to smile like Nightwing and Dick.

You were close to the park when you saw a red hood on a rooftop.

You saw him watching you, somewhat menacingly.

You get scared for a moment, You've heard stories about the crime lord and the people he's killed.

Sure, they were bad people and you had never done anything bad, but you could never be too sure!

You smiled and waved to him, which caught him slightly by surprise. Usually, people didn't smile and wave at someone they were scared of.

You walked a little faster, you needed to hurry before it was too late at night.

The park closes at 9, and it was now 8:26 pm.

You didn't notice how Red Hood kept watching you.

You didn't notice how he started coming towards you.

As soon as he got within 7 feet behind you, you could sense him.

You spun around dramatically to look at him.

You waved to him, again. "Hii!" You said excitedly, hoping this interaction will take your mind off everything. You realized you did not sound as excited as you usually did, probably from the sadness you felt.

"You around happy," He said walking towards you.

He didn't know why he felt the need to talk to you. He had never even had a conversation with you.

"Not really." You looked down at your feet, slightly sad.

You see him sitting down on a bench nearby and patting the seat next to him.

"Well, what's up?" He asks as you sit down next to him.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your leg shaking from nervousness.

Were you in trouble? Had you done something wrong? Why was he stopping you? Didnt he have people to fight?

"I mean, you look upset," He said, pointing out the obvious.

You started explaining everything to him.

About how you started a group and how it fell apart.

"I don't know what to do. I was just on my way to tell my friend I was gonna quit. It's no use to keep trying." You said while having your head in your hands and trying not to cry.

Jason didn't understand.

You usually weren't like this.

You usually wouldn't quit.

You were the type of person to keep going no matter what.

He leaned up against the railing of the bench. "Well, why would you quit?"

"What do you mean?" You asked as you lifted your head from your hands.

"I mean, why quit when you're almost there? All you have to do is go to the park, find them, and tell them to keep going. encourage them like you encouraged others." You watched as he stretched a little.

You thought about it for a minute.

"Plus, wouldn't you want to keep going for your grandfather? he would want you to keep going, right?"

He was right.

You had to keep going.

You had to go ahead and convince Tsukasa to apologize to Nene and Rui.

You had to convince them all to stay together.

You got up from the bench.

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Red Hood!" you waved bye to him and started running towards the theme park.

You checked the time on your phone.

8:47 PM

If you ran fast enough, you could probably make it in time to find Tsukasa and make him apologize!

So you ran.

You ran and ran like there was no tomorrow.

When you finally got to the park, you stopped for a second to try and find Tsukasa.

You find him packing his stuff up on the stage, and he has also already taken off his performer costume.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and practically yelled to him "TSUKASA- WENEEDTOGETTHEGROUPBACKTOGETETHERANDANDAND-!" You talked too fast. You made no sense. You were scared and nervous.

"Y-Y/N! Slow down! I can't understand you!" Tsukasa said, his head feeling like it was spinning.

You took a deep breath and started yelling again, this time you accidentally shook him violently. "WE NEED THE GROUP BACK TOGETHER! We need to create smiles! Us breaking up was a dumb idea!" Your eyes were slightly teary, you were passionate about this.

It took a couple of minutes of you convincing Tsukasa (and apologizing for shaking him and leaving him dizzy) before you guys went to look for Nene and Rui.

When you guys finally found them, the park was about to close for the night. You guys had to hurry.

Nene and Tsukasa apologized to each other, Nene for ruining the show and Tsukasa for yelling at her.

Rui was holding a slight grudge, which makes sense, but you were sad about it.

It took all 3 of you to convince him to come back to the stage and forgive Tsukasa, and it worked!

You all got kicked out of the park for the day because technically you guys were trespassing, so you 3 parted ways and went home.

While walking home, you started thinking about your day.

You liked thinking about it, it made you feel like you were living through it again.

You realized you had never told Mr.Red Hood about your grandpa.

How did he know about that?

oh god rhis was so short sorry

PLEASE why do i keep accidentally neglecting emu reader hi guys

also jasons prolly ooc sorru

taglist:@shirp-collector-of-fixations @maybeethan69 @iluvcatzz @tacendxx @ninihrtss @tsxukikami @d3sperate-enuf @staarflowerr @chaoticmoontimetravel @crazycaoticsimp @sugarrush-blush @kaitense1 @ryuushou

[steddieprompts]

Steddie; 1925 words; friends to lovers; belated valentine's day.

Eddie paced into his room and then back out into the hallway. Turned. Paced back into his room. Cracked the knuckles on his right hand. Turned. Paced back out into the hallway.

It was a good thing Wayne was at work or else he would make some remark about Eddie pacing a hole into the hallway floor.

He turned into the kitchen, grabbed the honeycombs out of the cabinet and shoved his hand in the box, scooping out a handful before returning to the hallway. Into his room. Eat a few honeycombs. Turn. Back out into the hallway. Eat a few more. Turn. Back into his room. Eat the rest of the honeycombs.

His eyes landed on a notebook on his desk.

Mrs. Laski, his fifth grade English teacher, had told him to write when he couldn’t figure out what else to do.  He had a suspicion it was just her way of keeping him in his seat and quiet but that didn’t matter right now.

He didn’t know what to do, and there was a notebook.

He plopped himself down at his desk and flipped open the notebook, turning pages until he found one that didn’t already have notes and drawings scribbled all over them.

2/10/88

I’m gonna kill Jefferson.

Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before putting pen to paper again.

Why would he say I’m in love with Steve?  He talks about Kevin from his ridiculous band camp way more than he talks about Barb and he and Bard are dating!  Just because I talk about Steve every once in a while…

Just, where does he get off pointing it out?

Eddie bit his lip tapping his pen against the notebook probably about as fast a hummingbirds wings, his knee doing its best to keep up under the desk.

I don’t even… I’m not looking for a relationship. Haven’t even thought about it.

But now, dear Jeffery has gone and put this idea in my head and it’s growing like cancer. It’s probably going to start dripping out of my ears all soft and mushy.

Steve Harrington.

<3 <3

The problem – the fucking annoying, needling, migraine inducing problem – is that he’s right.  As soon as he said it, I knew. Why didn’t I know before?

Eddie dropped his head to his desk and let out a tortured groan.  This morning, he was the same Eddie Munson he had been for years… well, ever since he survived a trip to an alternate dimension with 20% more scare tissue than he had before.  He was fine this morning and then Jeff had to open his mouth after the campaign.  Eddie had harmlessly mentioned that Steve applied for a job at the fitness place opening up across town and Jeff came back with, “Does Steve know how much you love him?”

Eddie was pretty sure he meant it as a joke… was 75% sure.  But it put the idea in his head and now…

Eddie picked up his head and wrote with so much force that it probably made a dent in the next five pages:

I’m in love with Steve Goddamn Harrington.

Eddie stared at the words… ran a finger over them, the ink smudging a little, feeling the indents of the letters; smiled a little.  He skipped a line and kept writing:

I’ve never considered what being in love would be like.  Never really been interested enough.  Now that I think about it though, I think I’ve loved Steve for a long time.  I mean, he saved my life… so that definitely has something to do with it…

But at the same time, that’s not it at all.

Steve is…

Eddie looked around his room.  On his nightstand was a baseball that Steve had brought over one day and just left there.  Whenever Steve visits he picks the ball up, lays back on Eddie’s bed and tosses the ball up and down, up and down, never once missing a catch and hitting himself in the face like Eddie is pretty sure would happen to him if he tried it.

His eyes drifted over to his closet, where one of Steve’s swim team shirts hangs on a hook.  He loaned it to Eddie one day when they were swimming and he just… never gave it back.

He knows that under his bed is a box of Steve’s personal stuff.  He brought it over one night when he thought his parents were going to kick him out and Eddie promised he could always stay with him and Wayne if he needed.  Steve didn’t stay more than two days, but the box never left.  Steve said he felt better leaving it with Eddie.  Eddie respected Steve enough to never snoop around in it.

Steve is kind.  He’s too kind sometimes and it makes me wonder how he survived his parents; survived all that shit that happened in ’84, ’85, ’86.  Sometimes I can see it in his eyes.  When he thinks no one is looking he gets this thousand-yard stare and I know he’s somewhere else, hearing echoes and seeing ghosts.

And he’s so strong.  He’s told me about the nightmares, the things that happened to him, and how much he longs to get the hell away from this shit-hole town. But not until the kids are gone.  Not until Robin and Nancy are settled somewhere far away from here.  Not until he knows that everyone is safe. I asked him when that would be, and I swear I saw his spine bend further under the pressure of it all. When is anyone ever safe?

Eddie’s eyes drifted to the corner of his desk.  Tucked under another notebook was a newspaper ad for a car dealership, where Eddie knew Steve had circled the truck he ended up buying.  Eddie asked if he was turning into some kind of country boy.  Steve shrugged and said, “It’ll come in handy when Robin goes to college after her gap year.”

Eddie also knew there was an aborted half circle around a used RV.  He knew Steve wanted to travel, to see something outside of Hawkins. To do something normal and distracting and fun.  Go somewhere he could relax and not worry.  Eddie was accosted with a memory of himself and Steve, parked in the van on the side of a backroad, looking out into a freshly cut wheatfield as the sun set. The orange and red coloring the side of Steve’s face as a soft breeze carried the last traces of summer warmth into the back of the van and Steve closed his eyes against it.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

I think I love Steve because… Because he’s like Aragorn. It sounds corny and stupid but… Aragorn does everything for the people he loves. Only becomes king because he knows that others might use the same power for evil. Carries the horrors of war with him but doesn’t lean on anyone that can’t hold his weight. And Steve does that.  He loves fiercely but in a way that can only be seen if you’re looking for it.  He’s loyal to his friends. He carries so much weight for the ones he loves.

And I think I’ve realized, though I’ve known in the back of my head for a while, that I always want to be by his side, to hold him up if he needs me.  Because I know he would do the same.

Someone knocking at the door startled Eddie out of his thoughts.  He dropped the pen on the notebook and hopped up out of the chair.

He hardly had time to process the fact that it was Steve on the other side of the door before he spoke.

“I got the job.”

It took Eddie a minute to process but when his mind caught up he threw his fists in the air before launching himself out of the door and wrapping his arms around Steve, the force of his hug knocking Steve back a step.

“Jesus,” He heard Steve chuckle before he turned his head an planted a comedically loud kiss to the side of Steve’s face.

“Dude!” Steve groaned, shoving him away but not losing the stupid grin as he wiped at the side of his face.

“Come on, Steve-o, let’s celebrate.” Eddie grinned, pulling Steve into the trailer and Steve let himself be pulled.

Eddie bounced down the hall into his bedroom, pulling his lunchbox off its shelf in the closet.

“Munson, they’re gonna drug test me tomorrow.”  Steve said from the doorway of Eddie’s room where he was pulling off his Family Video vest.

“God, you’re not even getting a paycheck yet and already they’re ruining your fun.”  Eddie groaned, putting the lunchbox back where he got it.  Steve threw the vest on Eddie’s bed before picking up the baseball.  “Can you drink?  Or will they sense the debauchery in your urine?”

“Uhg, why’d you have to use that word?”

“What, debauchery?’”

“No, ‘urine.’”

Eddie cackled.  “Should I have said piss?”  He rounded the bed and headed for the hallway.  “Fluids? Excretions?”

“You’re disgusting!” Steve shouted at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

Eddie smiled to himself as he opened the fridge, pulling out four beers before grabbing the cheese puffs out of the cabinet.

“It’s too bad it’s a Tuesday or we could go to the hideout and weasel free drinks out of Linda. You know she can’t resist…”  Eddie stopped dead in the doorway because there, sitting at his desk, was Steve, notebook in hand, eyes on the page.

“Shit,” involuntarily left Eddie’s mouth as he almost dropped one of the beers.  Steve didn’t look up, didn’t even move, just kept reading.

Eddie threw the beers and puffs on the bed before taking a couple of stuttering steps towards Steve.

“Stevie? Uh, that’s…” That’s what? What could he possibly say right now that would explain the words on the page as anything but what they were.  “I can…”

Steve held up a finger and Eddie froze, stopped talking because what else could he do?  He watched as Steve’s eyes moved line by line down the page, finger held up with the ball still in his hand like some sort of sports wizard casting a spell on Eddie to keep him silent and still.

He reached the end. Put the notebook down. Dropped his hand. And finally turned to Eddie.

“Do you mean it?  All of that?”  Steve asked, eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Yeah. All of it.” Eddie replied past the lump in his throat.

Eddie watched as Steve slowly got up from the chair, placing the ball on the desk before taking the one step that placed him squarely in front of Eddie.

“You know, Valentine’s day is coming up, and I know it’s not your favorite holiday but uh…”  Steve slipped his hands into Eddie’s “Would you like to spend it with me?”

Eddie smiled, leaning into Steve’s gravity. “Only if you buy me one of those cheesy, drug-store teddy bears.”

“Deal.”  Steve grinned back before he was pulling Eddie’s hands, tilting his head just so and murmuring “I love you, too” before sealing his confession against Eddie’s lips.

When they broke apart Eddie squinted at him.  “I can’t believe you snooped in my personal writings.”

“I can’t believe you needed Jeff to tell you that you loved me.”

“I take it back, I’m not going out with you.”  Eddie grumbled.

“Yeah, right.” Steve laughed before kissing Eddie again.

[thecreelhouse]

tramps like us

Paring: Gator Tillman x fem!reader

This is part of tramps like us, but can be read as a stand-alone (you might be lost with some details but overall it should be fine). I’m making this separate because I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you are reading the series, you can skip this if you aren’t interested!!

Summary: You finally bite the bullet on one of your most sought after kinks.

〘 series masterlist ✧.┊this is a sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧.┊listen to the series playlist ✧.┊read on AO3〙

WC: 3.4k+

CW/includes: gunplay/CNC roleplay, dirty talk, teensy bit of hurt/comfort in the beginning, discussing safe sex and boundaries, bdsm elements, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), object insertion 🫣, toys, minor spoiler details for the series (also gator is on the softer side in this series, so if you’re not into that this isn’t the fic for you)

A/N: yes. I know. The wedding chapter should’ve been next, but look, I’m finishing it up finally. This idea came to me for the holiday (I’m a day late don’t @ me), and who am I to turn down an opportunity to slut out? Friendly reminder THIS IS FICTIONAL and though I went the “safer” route in writing gunplay, please do not take this (or any of my fics) as advice for your own sex life lol. Everything in this is between two consenting adults, and I tried my best to research but I know nothing about guns irl lmao. If anything’s inaccurate just look the other way. hope y’all that read this enjoy it <3 (divider cred: @/saradika-graphics)

ch. 10 ✧.┊

sick thoughts - Lou Bliss

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

⋆｡♪ look what you’ve caused / you got ‘em too / sick thoughts ♬ ₊˚.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, you find Gator sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a bagel in the quiet morning hours. As you pour your coffee, you decide to pop the question, one that’s been on your mind for quite some time:

“You think it’s possible to safely fuck a gun?”

Gator sputters and coughs, bagel pieces flying onto the table as he clears his throat. Sipping from your mug, you wait patiently for him to regain composure.

He coughs out, “What the fuck?”

“Well, that’s not the reaction I expected,” you frown, pulling out a chair at the table to sit across from him. “Sorry, it’s just… been on my mind a lot.”

“I thought this was all an ‘in theory’ kinda kink?” Gator gulps down water, eyes misty from coughing so much. Okay. Yeah. Maybe this was a bad time to spring the question.

“Yeah, it is. It was. Kinda. I don’t know. I’m just asking!” You shrug, staring down at your mug. “You know I don’t know a damn thing about guns.”

He sighs with a serious expression, one that’s rare, even for him. “Darlin’, this ain’t somethin’ to mess around with.”

Brows furrowing, you scoff, “Since when do you care about safety? We’ve done knife play already!”

“Since ya’ told me about this to begin with,” he runs a hand down his face, stressed already. “I was gonna teach ya’ some shit last year, remember? And knife play’s dangerous too, but this is beyond that.”

“Yeah, yeah, and the timing was bad, and we never got around to it— so teach me now.”

Gator leans forward on the table, cautiously studying your face. “Why now?”

Embarrassment floods through you, keeping you tight lipped. You shake your head, leaving the table. “Forget it. You’re right.” You flop onto the couch, sighing, feeling ridiculous for even bringing it up.

“No, c’mon. Don’t be like that,” he groans as he follows you, dropping onto the couch, cuddling up against your side. “Somethin’ else is goin’ on.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid if it’s botherin’ you, that’s what you’re always tellin’ me.” Gator hooks an arm around your waist, nudging you onto his lap. With ease, you settle against him, sighing again. His arms wrap around your waist, holding firmly. “M’gonna hold ya’ hostage here ‘til ya’ tell me what’s up.”

“Everything’s been so… perfect, and I feel off. And I hate that I feel off.” You wind your arms around his shoulders, resting your head on one of them. “There’s always been some kinda pain or traumatic bullshit goin’ on, I got used to it after awhile. But now… I- I don’t know what to do with myself. Nothing is wrong, I have everything I need, everyone I need, but I feel like something’s wrong and I feel so guilty for that. It feels bad, and it shouldn’t. Does that make any sense? ‘Cause it doesn’t make any damn sense to me.”

“We both were raised horribly, so it makes sense that’s kinda all we know… or knew for awhile. It makes sense to me.” He shrugs, trying to reassure you.

Sitting up, you dare to look him in the eye, bottom lip trembling. “Life feels so weird without the constant fight or flight… does that make me a bad person for missing it?”

He doesn’t answer you, only asks, “You’re still doin’ therapy, right?”

You huff, “Yeah. We talk about it. Just not… y’know… The gun play part.”

“Darlin’, a gun play scene ain’t gonna fix it. I know how big the trust is for ya’, but I’m not risking it.” Gator’s fingers dance along your spine in soothing repetitions. “I haven’t handled a gun in over a year, I don’t feel comfortable with this.”

“I know that, but I just… I want to feel something. But what I don’t want is to make you uncomfortable, so let’s forget it, okay? M’sorry for saying anything, I really didn’t mean to pressure you—“

He grabs your chin softly, tilting your face to look at him. 

“We can role play. It’s not the same, but it ain’t lethal, at least. Use a fake training gun, one that feels real, just ain’t functional. We go over the entire scene, what we want and don’t want, and if you’re comfortable with that, then I am, too.”

It might not be exactly what you wanted, but you knew Gator was right. Plus, you were kind of proud he was taking initiative to be safe with a scene; maybe you’ve corrupted him, but at least he’s being smart about it.

“Okay, as long as you’re comfortable, I am, too.” You kiss him softly. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Love you too, Darlin’.”

Everything down to the most minuscule details were discussed between you and Gator; what you wanted, what your hard limits were in a scene like this, choosing the traffic light system over a safeword, the kinds of replica firearms you were both comfortable with, so on.

Turns out, NYC’s gun laws are rigid even with prop guns, too. Gator was very serious, even about this; the replica was not to leave the house, ever. Which, okay, yeah, makes sense. You had no issue with that.

Valentine’s Day had a window of several hours where no one else would be home, out for plans or work, which you figured was perfect timing; though no one could hear you in the apartment, now that the vent’s fixed, you still wanted to play it completely safe.

Honestly, you tried to forget about the plan. Tried to ignore the details of the scene, but all day at work, your mind could only daydream of it. You may or may not have spaced out on a few customers, or dropped more than a few books dreaming of the possibilities of what could happen.

Didn’t help much how soaked you were just from those thoughts alone.

When you finally arrived home, the lights were off throughout the whole house, adding to the thrill. Cautiously, you climbed the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with your keys, hands shaking with excitement.

They slip from your fingers when something pokes the middle of your back, cool and hard. You freeze.

Oh, fuck.

“Go ‘head,” he rasps in your ear from behind, “Pick ‘em up, pretty girl.”

You expected to find Gator on the other side of the door, not out here; that was never decided on, you just assumed, and the surprise had you trembling already.

Slowly, you crouch down, hands grabbing at nothing in the dark. It takes a few tries until the metal jingles against your fingers. You bounce back up, unlocking the door, yet hesitating to open it.

“It’d be a shame if ya’ didn’t invite me in, princess.”

You nod wordlessly, stepping into the dark apartment, feeling the weapon as it prods at your spine while he follows you inside.

“Y- you know, my boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute—“

“Yeah? The former cop?” He breathes down your neck, licking a stripe up to the shell of your ear. “Heard he’s gone soft, bet he won’t do shit.”

You didn’t expect him to get so into this, but you’re loving it.

“Shut up,” you warn, but it comes out in a shaky whisper. Gator pushes the weapon into your back a little further.

“Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do.” He nudges you towards the staircase. “Go on, show me where your toy box is so we can play.”

Dropping your things by the door, you make the slow journey across the apartment to the stairs, a little too slow for his liking. Gator pushes the muzzle into your back, grunting.

When you reach the loft bedroom, he asks softly, “Color?”

“Green,” you answer without hesitation, nodding eagerly. 

“Strip for me.” Gator flips the light on, casting a dim glow to the bedroom. With trembling hands, you remove your sweater and miniskirt, kicking your shoes off to leave you in the lingerie set he got you for Christmas, and your thigh highs.

When you look up, he’s perched on the edge of the bed in camo pants, combat boots, gun holster and bomber jacket, with a balaclava covering his face. Next to him is the replica gun— jesus, it’s a rifle, and it looks real.

He whistles lowly,  “Gon’ look so good on your knees f’me.” He beckons you over, and though hesitant, you obey. Spreading his legs, he leans down close, running a hand through your hair to tug. “Where’s your toys, princess?”

You glower his way. When you don’t answer, he pulls on your hair harder.

“Ah! T- top drawer!”

Gator releases you roughly, “Stay.” He finds his way over to the drawer, rummaging around for a bit until he settles on a toy. Kneeling behind you, he smacks your ass. “Up, on your knees, keep ‘em spread.” You comply, whimpering as you feel silk bondage rope wind around your thigh, with something attached. Shit. It’s your wand, pressed snugly against your clothed core.

“Look at that… you’re fuckin’ soaked already.”

“Shut up!”

Cuffing your hands behind your back, he mutters, “Wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.” He flicks the wand on, immediately jolting your body forward. You catch your balance, whining as you steady yourself on your knees. 

Rounding you, Gator sits back on the bed, unzipping his pants. You bite your lip, hoping to stifle any moans eager to already escape.

He removes a pistol from his holster, smirking wickedly down at you. Gently nudging the muzzle against your lips, he murmurs, “Open.” You obey, feeling the cool, heavy metal breach just past your lips. “Lick.” Dragging your tongue along the barrel, you glance up at Gator, watching his eyes darken through his mask. “Suck.”

At first, you don’t take much in, until he begins to meet the bobbing of your head with several pushes. The barrel lays heavy on your tongue, gagging when he pushes it once more. He pulls it out completely, chuckling as you drool all over yourself, panting and squirming against the vibrator.

“Pathetic slut. You’re close already, huh?”

You shake your head, choking back another moan.

“S’okay to like it,” Gator caresses your cheek, smirking at the tears already building in your eyes. “I won’t tell your boyfriend.”

“Please…”

“Please… what? C’mon, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart.” He shoves the muzzle into your cheek, rough enough to probably leave an imprint. “You got three seconds to start talkin’, princess.”

You shake your head again, frantic, eyes scrunching shut.

“Three… two… o—“

“Pl- please! I’ll do anything, don’t— don’t—“ A gasp is caught in your throat, and Gator’s about to check in again, but you babble out, “I’ll be good for you! Just let me cum, I’ll be so good, I won’t— I won’t say anything!”

His wicked grin is back, pulling the gun away before sickly praising you, “There she is, there’s the good girl I came to play with.” He grabs your chin, and you wince, a sob falling from your lips as you allow yourself to give into the pleasure.

“I’ll let you cum as much as ya’ want, but m’gonna keep that pretty mouth busy.” His hand winds through your hair, tugging you into his crotch. “Show me how bad ya’ want it.”

You whimper against his bulge, nuzzling as it hardens under his clothes. He pulls his pants down, grabbing the back of your head to shove your face against him again. You lap at the firm length through his briefs, soaking a dark spot next to another he started on his own.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s wet,” you mutter. Gator grabs you by the hair again, forcing you to look up at him.

“What’d you say?”

“I said you’re wet too, prick.” You’re getting too mouthy, so Gator shoves the gun up to your head. Immediately you break into a sweat with unsteady breathing. “M’sorry, m’sorry!”

Both the gun and his hand fall away, freeing himself from his briefs. His length slaps against his tummy, precum leaking from the tip.

You don’t wait for his instruction, just dive in, licking a broad stripe up his shaft, taking him into your mouth in one fluid motion. You force yourself down as far as your throat allows, throwing Gator off with a shout.

He knows he won’t last long.

“Fuck— fuck—“ He bucks up into your face, shuddering as you gag around him. He begins fucking your face, easily reaching his high when he feels your moans vibrate around his cock, while watching mascara run down your face. His length twitches and pulses on your tongue, release shooting to the back of your throat. “Such a—“ he thrusts “-good-“ thrusts again “-fuckin’-“ and one more time, holding your face against the thatch of curls at his base  “-girl.”

Your orgasm hits, catching you by surprise as you were so distracted while Gator used you. Again, by the crown of your head, he yanks you back by your hair, watching with sick pleasure as you cry out your climax.

“Poor thing’s spent already, what a shame.”

“No, n- no I can keep going, please, I wanna, I need to,” you babble,  unbothered by how much of a disaster you must look like right now.

He looks down between your legs, watching as you drip through your panties, licking his lips. “Up.” His arms hook under your own, lifting you up onto shaky legs. You’re barely on your feet for long before he pushes you into the bed, face first.

Gator’s behind you, grabbing your hips to lift your ass up, giving a hard smack to your backside. Untying your wand from your leg, he pulls your panties down, sliding them off your legs and rounding the bed.

Crouching down next to you, he pets your hair out of your face, gently caressing his fingers against your scalp. 

“You know what to do if ya’ can’t verbally give me your color, right?” His voice matches his tender touch, and you nod. “Can you show me?”

Sliding his hand under yours, still cuffed behind your back, you tap his hand once “Green,” two times, “yellow”, and three times, “red.”

“That’s my girl,” Gator kisses your cheek, leaving you with a soft smile. “Color?”

“Green.” Your dazed demeanor and pleased expression are a contrast to the smeared, tear-stained makeup on your face. He takes the consent to continue, leaving to stand behind you again.

Spreading his hands against your backside, he caresses your soft skin, groping at the plushest parts of your curves.

“Who knew a pretty thing like you’d get turned on when you’re scared…” His breath fans against your core, lapping once through your folds. You jolt with a whine, wrists weakly fighting against your cuffs. “Fuck, that’s good,” he hisses, delving back in while spreading your thighs apart. 

Gagged, you moan into the fabric, tongue catching your own essence.

“Imagine what your man would think, seein’ ya’ like this… just wait ‘til I really ruin ya’.” He slurps lewdly, groaning into your folds as he laps up the slick arousal. “You’re gettin’ married soon, huh? Ain’t gonna be one part of ya’ left that’s innocent when I’m through with ya’.” He slips a finger inside, right as you clench over his words with a high pitched whine. “Shit… you like that? Want me to ruin ya’?”

You hum a pathetic, weepy, “Mhm,” into the gag, nodding against the pillows. You’re floating, and you don’t ever want to come down.

“You need this, don’t you?” Another finger slides in, curling perfectly into that delicious spot that craves attention. “Ain’t enough t’get fucked, gotta be threatened and thrown around a bit…” He pumps his hand harder, tongue flitting out to your clit. Your toes curl and back arches as the bliss builds. 

Again, you agree with a shameful noise.

“Got a surprise for ya’, princess.” Mouth and touch disappearing, you let out a soft sob, wrists pathetically attempting to break free. He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your back roughly. “Stay still, don’t want ya’ gettin’ hurt… yet.”

That familiar sensation of cool metal against your body slips between your folds. It grazes your clit, hips twitching with the desire to roll. 

“Bet you ain’t been fucked with a gun before,” Gator’s voice is low, focused and gravelly as he nestles the barrel against your core, folds puffing out on each side as you drip down onto the weapon. “Bet it’s a real wet dream for ya’… but don’t worry, s’gonna be a reality soon.”

You stay still, painfully stiff while all kinds of desperate little sounds slip out of your gagged mouth. Breaths falling shallow, you feel the barrel slide down to your entrance, muzzle nudging against the hole’s edge.

Gator spits onto your entrance, teasingly inching the gun in; it’s smoother than you expected, easier to take than anticipated, too, with its slim build. It feels like the rifle, and your guess makes you lightheaded.

He pumps it slowly, reaching deeper inside you, observing your expression; you’re gone, maxed out in bliss as your eyes roll back and you tremble around the rifle. 

“I’d kill to see ya’ get spitroasted with a gun on each end…” He mutters, pumping the firearm a little faster. “Look at you… a fuckin’ wreck. Would it make ya’ cum, knowin’ I got my finger on the trigger?”

Crying out into your gag, you do exactly as he had hoped, convulsing around the barrel of the gun as the shock of your orgasm speeds through you. Even in role play, the perilous weight of his words bring you to the edge with ease.

Jesus fucking christ I’m fucked up.

Cursing under his breath, Gator is careful as he cautiously takes the replica out of you, allowing you to collapse onto your stomach as you catch your breath. Through bleary eyes, you watch as he comes closer, eye contact strong and stern as he licks the aftermath off the rifle.

“Fuck, tha’s’hot,” you rasp out. He chuckles, setting it aside while crouching back down to you. When he pulls the mask off, you frown. “We’re done?”

“Think so, Darlin’, you’re pretty spent.” Even Gator’s winded, but more-so emotional than physical. His cheeks are flushed red, lips glistening with your slick. He cradles your face in his hand, “Did so damn good for me.”

“You didn’t finish.” You hate that he went through all this trouble to please you, but he shrugs, smirking.

“I did once, but I didn’t need to, this was ‘bout you.” He stretches over your back, unlocking the cuffs, gently turning you onto your back. He brings your wrists up to his lips, kissing the tender skin. “Just takes more out of me than I expected.”

Your lips turn downward again, “I’m sorry, Gator. I didn’t mean to pressure you into all of this—“

“You kiddin’ me? That was so hot,” he breathily laughs. While stripping the rest of his clothes, he adds, “Just gonna take some gettin’ used to, but I liked it if you did.” He climbs into bed with you, embracing you flush against his figure. “We can play again sometime, if you want.”

“Yeah, s’long as we’re in the right headspace for it.” You nod giddily, but a smidge of shame works its way through your post-orgasm bliss. “You don’t think of me any differently, do you?”

Gator leans back, brows furrowed down at you. “What? Fuck no. Why? ‘Cause you liked this? No way.” Cupping your cheek again, you lean into his palm, warm and comforting. “I told ya’, I like exploring this shit with you, and this was somethin’ I always wanted you to be safe with.”

You kiss his cheek, “Thank you for trying new stuff with me, and keepin’ me safe. Although…” you cringe, “Even though I trust you, m’really glad we stuck to prop guns. I was fucking nuts for even thinkin’ I could handle the real thing.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, “So it didn’t ruin the scene?”

“Nope, felt it was easier to slip into subspace without that extra… stress.”

The two of you continue talking about the scene; the more you practice this part of aftercare, the easier it’s becoming to discuss your likes and dislikes with little to no shame. 

“We should probably clean ourselves up,” Gator groans, not ready to move. “Might have to skip goin’ out tonight.”

“S’okay, we can get one of those cheesy heart shaped pizzas,” you snuggle into his chest. “The place ‘round the corner does ‘em for the holiday.”

He snorts, “Nothing says romance like a pretend break-in and heart shaped pizza for date night.” You pinch his cheek and he swats your hand away. “Ow!”

“C’mon,” you pull him out of bed with you, joking, “let’s go wash the filth and shame away first.”

[hrts4nagi]

she's the man!

paring :: itoshi rin x f!reader

synopsis :: hiori y/n is devastated after the news of the girls soccer team being cut from the sport program and unable to join the boys team. to rub more salt on the wound, she just broke off with her long-time boyfriend. devising a plan, she disguises herself as her twin brother to take his place at blue lock academy, an all-male prep school.

what she doesn’t expect is falling in love with the academy’s star player.

08.

wc:: 549

“okay, but how did you manage to hide every single soccer ball?” reo questioned, baffled at the situation. 

“a magician never reveals his secrets!” 

there the blue lock team was, all gathered together in the locker room. some elated at the delay, (especially nagi and isagi), others indifferent, but of all people in the room, there was one person who could just strangle bachira right now. 

rin facepalms at bachira’s actions. he was undoubtedly pissed that practice was pushed back, it's only been a couple days since the semester started. all rin wanted to do was get his hand on the ball to practice. if he didn't practice, that meant falling behind. falling behind meant he would be unable to beat his brother. he grows enraged at the thought.

you sigh plopping down onto the bench next to chigiri, “is he usually like this?”

“unfortunately, yes.” you shake your head at the situation. you take in a deep breath feeling one of your cramps coming down. “i’m just gonna lie for a bit, wake me up when warm-ups start?”

chigiri nods as you find comfort in curling up into a fetal position on the bench. maybe nagi was onto something with his power naps before practice. your eyebrows start to furrow in pain as the cramps start up and you wish for nothing more than to be a boy at that moment. all you could think about was miso providing warmth as a substitute for a heating pack. your frown deepens and eyes start to tear up at the thought of your precious cat.

damn hormones.

“hey, hiori why do you have tampons and pads in your bag?” bachira questions holding up both products in his hands.

crap.

you sit up quickly, at the speed that your vision blurs for a second. the heat raises to your cheeks as your mind short-circuits scrambling to find an excuse, any excuse. you look everywhere but towards bachira when you finally get an idea. suddenly, you spring up from the bench. 

“uhm, you guys ever have really bad nosebleeds? like, let's say when you run head first into someone or one of those moments?” some nod along in compliance.  “well, i use them to stop said nosebleeds! see!” you snatch a tampon out of bachira’s hand and stick it up one of your nostrils as demonstration. you shake your hands to bring more emphasis.

half the locker room looks dumbfounded at your statement while the other nod in agreement. “maybe i should get some myself,” mutters isagi. 

“okay, but that doesn't explain the pads,” nagi points out. 

“oh these? i found that these are more effective than bandaids! like when the inside of my cleats rub too hard against my heel i like to put them in my shoe!”

“that doesn't sound like a bad idea actually,” reo thinks. “hey, maybe i can pitch this to the old man.” 

you let out a sigh of relief, retreating back to the bench. “they actually bought it.” you mutter under your breath, slightly baffled and the other half proud in a way. 

rin lets out his fifth sigh in the span of 30 minutes. he was positive that with you being here was taking off a mere 5 years off his life-span. scratch that. maybe even 10.

navigation ::

she's the man!

next -> 09.

previous <- 07.

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[iguessitsjustme]

The Boy Next World Ep 7 Thoughts

Everyone be proud of me I left the house today and was social. It was great. Even if it meant I couldn't watch shows until later. It's good for me to not be a hermit every once in a while. But now. It is time. If you had told me a month ago that I would be enjoying both a Jittirain show AND a MAME show at the same time, I would have looked at you like you had two heads, seven arms, and drank the sun out of an enchanted goblet. But that's what's happening. Shoutout Perfect 10 Liners can't wait to see where that show is going with this final couple. But you aren't here for that. You are reading this because for some reason y'all like my liveblogs. I'm just a silly little guy posting some thoughts and some of you seem to enjoy my thoughts and I appreciate y'all and love y'all. And you can continue to find my thoughts under the cut:

At some point in this watch, I will be interrupted by my pizza being delivered. I hope. Otherwise that pizza is taking too long to get to me.

Awww cuddle babies

It concerns me that every time I try to watch this show, screaming children appear outside my apartment.

Phu's friends are so incredibly caring.

I get Phu. He goes alone every year. Even though he has so many friends that would be willing to go with him and support him in his grief. I, too, prefer to grieve alone. I think him agreeing to let Cir be there was a little bit for him but more for Cir. Because he knew how worried Cir would be if he went alone.

This theme song still slaps.

I still don't understand the hourglass. And I have decided I don't need to understand it. Just like last week, I'm just vibin. Very mind off show for me. I am enjoying just letting this show do whatever it wants forever. I want this show to blow my mind which means I gotta turn my mind off to ignore some things. So I am actually having a great time. Love all the characters and honestly as long as I love the characters, I'm going to like a show even if the plot is whack. I don't think this plot is whack though. I'm rambling. Someone stop me…oh a message. Perfect timing to stop the ramble. God bless

This is me on a tuk tuk

Also I was so confused when I saved this screenshot because there were none for episode 6 and then I had to remember I didn't have my laptop last weekend. Those were dark times. Dark times indeed.

Awww hand holding. They're sweet

That means this episode is gonna hurt me

Fuck yeah pizza time! Right when our boys start to eat. Thank GOD. I was starving.

I don't care what the show tells me about Phu's mom. I hate her for abandoning her child to deal with his grief on his own. Yeah, she was grieving but she put her own emotional needs over that of her CHILD. And I cannot forgive her for that. Poor Phu.

This show loves mirrors. I wonder why this show called *checks notes* The Boy Next World with implications of *looks down at notes again* parallel worlds loves mirrors so much.

I also love the mirrors. Love a good mirror shot.

Oh this lie is hurting both of them right now so much. "Why does that world Phu have a Cir and I don't" oh baby boy you're breaking my heart. Phu is literally just the sweetest little bean. I hope Cir confesses soon and gets forgiven and they can be in love and happy forever. They don't even need to worry about Cir's mom cause I'll just hire some *cough cough* hitmen to take care of it (they might be retired but I think I can convince them to make an exception. Y'all know they don't like evil mothers)

Why was Cir on that street in the past? Was he stalking Phu? Did he just happen to be there? To be clear, I don't care about the answer, I just want to know.

JIN AND WIM MY BELOVEDS.

Are these two healthy? No. Do I love them? Yes.

I love that Phu does let his friends see him every year but only after he goes alone to see his dad. There's something about that specifically that just hits for me.

Same actor for Thorn. Appreciated. However the implications about this universe now are hilarious to me. Somewhere in TharnType there must be a mind reader. Just because it is so funny. Take this world with complete zero supernatural elements and then in a different show years later, just add some. They were always there but hidden to everyone.

Cir if you don't tell this baby boy soon, I will be throwing hands with you. As much as I love you, I will cut you if you do not confess and put my sweet little angel out of his misery

Boy if there's an unspoken rule not to disturb Phu, why you there? (Do not misunderstand I think him showing up is actually very sweet. Checking on his baby cousin and all).

I love the use of piano in this show.

Don't ask me if this soundtrack is good. I don't know. But what I do know is that I enjoy it. Overall as a soundtrack, I'm pretty sure it's mid, but my god do I vibe with all of the choices it's made. So I'm biased.

Did y'all hear that? That was me screaming

I'm not a fan of kissing to shut someone up. I'm also not a fan of kissing without consent. However, here, I'm gonna ignore that because I love these two and also Jin can read Wim's mind and he knows that Jin felt something earlier. I also think Jin is about to push Wim off of him and scold him too. Very old school of this couple and weirdly, I'm not mad at it. Who have I become?

Why is there light on only one side. WHY IS ONE SIDE DARK.

And now it's Cir in the light? What does it MEAN. No one tell me I don't want to know.

Fully in the dark now. Surely, that has nothing to do with Cir's LIE and how Phu loves him yet doesn't know he gets to keep him forever and forever and forever.

Cir comes in and brings the light with him. Lighting up Phu but remaining in the dark himself until he walks himself into Phu's light (that he brought). I'm sure this means nothing.

Screaming children go AHWAY

I suppose I'll allow it. Since it's not another guitar.

Okay this is for sure not the song he is playing. Or at least they definitely overlaid it. But as far as instrument playing goes, I can believe he plays the flute at least a little.

Just a little. I'm not a flautist but it seemed about 1/10 realistic to me but considering what I've seen in the past, I will gladly take that. *stares OMSN right in the eyeballs*

These two. Always with the tongue.

FINGERS IN THE MOUTH CIR YOU INSANE MAN

Should have confessed the secret before sleeping with him.

Dark and light side of the bed again. Again, sure it means NOTHING.

Phu is actually an excellent communicator.

I told y'all they were too cute in the beginning and therefore this episode would hurt me and NOW LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE

I BEG YOUR PARDON

Now did this show really need this specific drama?

Yes. Yes it did. I don't care. Give me ALL the dramatics.

THE FUCK

[random-autie-fangirl]

I drew another Chara- living with the Dreemurrs edition

"The King and Queen treated the human child as their own. The underground was filled with hope."

I don't like this as much as the last one but oh well... I ended up rambling a huge amount in the tag, so if you want details and headcanons about the actual drawing again, you'll have to look pretty far down this time, sorry (Also, I ran out of tags after a while. Tumblr is tired of me, lol. I might reblog this more tags later if I remember what I was going to say.)

[ra-vio]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[nightreader133]

catch me dusting off all my old lehengas, i will be dressed TO THE NINES

You’re all invited to the nine day long SpellBomb wedding event

[al-luviec]

Here is lady pics from when I was MIA

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Need to make a comprehensive recount of the age ranges of all the major frogs and aliens so people can stop spreading misinfo and build their own spaces

[wildflowercryptid]

potentially batshit headcanon, but i think it'd be funny if these two were related somehow.

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:

[nyan-bynary]

WAIT NO NOT A RANDOM TIKTOK EDIT BRINGING MY ATTENTION TO SUGURU AND YUUJI PARALLELS WAIT FUCK

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...