#i showed him to dad and he said 'he's a peg' and i had to stop myself making a joke about him getting pegged

[weedle-testaburger]

I just wanna share the best/worst thing i got at the con today. so i bought a blind bag spy x family plushie hoping I'd get someone i liked, and instead i get yuri. I would be mad but...

this is the most babygirl secret policeman/simp for his own sister I've ever seen. and it gets even funnier:

he's pliers. I couldn’t make this shit up

[tobiasdrake]

Here we go. It's time to talk about my personal fave. As I said before, this is my Main. In Dragon Ball fighting games, this is the character I seek out to play whenever the roster allows. Also arguably the character who's been done the most dirty by just about every form of Dragon Ball, manga included.

The vanguard of a brand new status quo and a brand new direction for what Dragon Ball would even be, washed away by the tides of a status quo resetting to zero.

We're here to talk about the champion of Satan City who carries the spirit of Dragon Ball in her heart: Videl.

(And that is one cookie to @jcogginsa who guessed it.)

Videl was a kid with a chip on her shoulder. I mean. How could you not be? Her father was the legendary world martial arts champion who famously defeated Cell seven years ago.

Don't pay attention to that. He just tripped for a moment. Once he got his second wind, he came right back and showed Cell what for! It was due entirely to Mr. Satan and nobody else that the Earth was spared from the apocalyptic horror that is Cell.

Look, he even said so himself.

Are you gonna call that man a liar? The man who defeated Cell!? I think we can trust Satan's word over yours.

This is the shadow that Videl grew up under. Raised in what had previously been called Orange City, but was renamed Satan City in honor of the world's greatest hero.

Or "Hercule City/Herculopolis" in the versions that edit out Satan's name.

As his daughter, Videl has a perspective on Satan that neither the world nor the audience gets to see: He's a womanizing playboy who cashes in on his world-savior fame for booty.

He also forbids his teenage daughter from dating by putting up the stipulation that any boy interested in her has to be stronger than him, the world champion - A stipulation naturally designed to weed out any possible suitors through intimidation. Wanna date Videl? FISTFIGHT THE MAN WHO DEFEATED CELL.

Oh, but he doesn't teach her a goddamn thing; At least, not anymore, as she does suggest there was once a time when he was her mentor. She's forced to study martial arts entirely on her own because her dad is utterly disinterested in her development in the art.

This is an angle on Satan we never get to see onscreen. Apparently he's pretty shitty about women. You know, I can believe that.

Videl, when we meet her, is trapped in an unenviable position as a martial artist. She hates what the fame of being a legend has done to her dad and wants to knock him down a peg, but she has no foundation to develop her abilities from. The one man who's supposed to be teaching her isn't doing it, and she's been passively discouraged from pursuing more esoteric martial arts because the world champion said that stuff's all fake.

Videl makes for a fascinating foil to Gohan, because they're both children living in the shadows of legendary fathers.

Gohan is expected to be Goku's successor, but wants to live a peaceful life of academia. Meanwhile, Videl is being denied the ability to become Mr. Satan's successor, but craves the opportunity to prove herself.

Nonetheless, both of these kids are prodigies. Videl has a wealth of potential. She doesn't even realize that, despite these limitations, she surpassed her father long ago. Despite being a self-taught teenager with zero comprehension of ki cultivation, Videl hones her skills and developers her art the only way that's available to her: By punching it out with armed robbers in the region.

Backpack Town isn't even her city! She's a one-woman SWAT team for the tri-state area.

As ambitious and driven as she is, Videl is also clever. The anime extrapolates the adventures of the Great Saiyaman into a several-episode arc as Gohan deftly avoids detection by Videl over and over again, but this has the knock-on effect of depriving Videl of one of her best moments.

Because she pegs him instantly. She was already suspicious of Gohan being the mysterious "Golden Warrior", when he tried to use his Super Saiyan form to disguise himself as a superhero.

Which also showed that she was open-minded about the other people who fought Cell. Satan says they were doing a bunch of tricks, but Videl's willing to consider the possibility that there exist people who can turn blond on command.

And then Gohan did this shit.

Because he was raised in the woods by the devil and Goku. Despite trying to keep a low profile, he has absolutely no idea what the baseline for ordinary human ability is.

So. Y'know.

That's pretty fucking suspicious.

Which brings us to Gohan's second outing as Great Saiyaman, and his first meeting with Videl under his new identity. Whereupon she, uh....

Plays him like a fucking sap. It's a great moment that doesn't get its due if it takes several episodes and misadventures for her to reach this point. Videl is exceptionally skilled in the field of paying attention to that time Gohan jumped thirty feet in the air and naturally drawing conclusions from it.

And also his voice and posture and other dead giveaways. Gohan sucks at secret identities.

He's just. So obviously Gohan. There's no way anyone would be fooled by this.

But she's not only adequate at seeing things with her eyes; She's also a legitimately brilliant martial artist in her own right. Due to her upbringing, she's had zero experience with ki cultivation for obvious reasons.

And yet she's talented enough and smart enough to pick up the basics of Bukujutsu in one day.

Oh, don't mind her; That's just Videl making a mockery of Tsuru-senryu by effortlessly devouring their signature technique. This is Goku's first Kamehameha all over again.

She may have started small but Videl learns fucking fast. She has all of the drive and the ambition that Gohan lacks. She wants to be part of this world, she has a ravenous hunger for self-improvement, she's clever and observant, and she picks up concepts insanely quickly.

Videl is fucking primed to be a key player in Dragon Ball's next generation.

...

So now we need to talk about what happened to Videl.

Videl has one major fight in the entire series: Her 25th Tenkaichi Budokai bout against Spopovich.

Which she absolutely dominates. She's stronger, better, and faster than Spopovich. Even the experienced martial artists agree that she's infinity times better than him in every way.

But there's something wrong with Spopovich. He's a decent martial artist, far from the top; He'd competed in the 24th Tenkaichi Budokai and made it through the qualifiers, but was eliminated in the first round. So, y'know, he had no chance in hell against Videl; She's already surpassed Mr. Satan, who won the 24th legitimately.

Uh, by virtue of none of the Kame-senryu or their rivals attending. Mr. Satan is top dog of the same weight class as Pamput from the 22nd.

But, despite being outclassed in every category, Spopovich is also a dead man walking.

He's similar to the Androids in a sense. Spopovich has no ki signature at all, nor does he get worn down by the damage he's taking. This is Vegeta vs. 18 and Piccolo vs. 17 all over again; He isn't feeling the pain from the hits she's landing on him, and so he's able to outlast.

But Spopovich isn't an Android. He's more like a zombie?

At one point, Videl cuts loose and breaks his goddamn neck. Because he's pushing her hard enough that she realizes she needs to go harder, but his body can't take harder. He isn't a match for her. He just. Isn't going down despite not being a match for her.

He can't take this level of force. But he and his ominously vacant absence of ki can put his head right back where it was and continue the fight, no problem. That's honestly scarier than if he'd regenerated.

Also despite not even having the barebones ki signature of a normal person, Spopovich can perform Bukujutsu and fire ki attacks.

Which a fighter of his meager ability shouldn't even be capable of.

All of this adds up to an unwinnable fight for Videl and the setup to... Something. This match has been criticized pretty heavily in the fandom because it gets pretty gruesome and doesn't have a payoff.

We've seen fights go fucking bad for our heroes before. Piccolo once broke all of Goku's arms and legs as well as shooting a hole in his chest, right here in this same arena.

But it's typically building to something. When our heroes get trashed, it's the lead-up to a reversal down the road. Maybe in the same fight. Maybe in a later one. And we seem to be heading in that direction?

After Spopovich and Yamu leave the tournament, we get VIdel a Senzu and she's right as rain.

Spopovich and Yamu steal energy from Gohan and fly off to Babidi's Ship so they can awaken Majin Buu. Kaioshin recruits the various protags to make that not be a thing that happens. And then. Something switches in the narrative flow of this arc.

You can feel it happen.

As our heroes prepare to pursue Spopovich and Yamu, Videl volunteers to join in as well. She's had her eyes opened to a whole new world or possibilities and is hungry to develop her abilities.

And. Then. One chapter later. It's suddenly decided that Videl will not be a part of this storyline after all, and she basically leaves the plot forever.

WHOOPS! Never mind! Didn't want this character here after all. Go home, Videl.

While her adversary Spopovich is unceremoniously unwritten from being a thing that exists.

Babidi just. Kills him. For no reason. Even though his job isn't done yet. Babidi's like, "Oh good, you collected a fraction of the energy we need; That's fine, you can be fired. I don't need anyone to finish the job."

We're just. We're not telling that story anymore. We already threw Videl in the trash; we don't need her nemesis. We're doing a different thing.

Also, because we still have too many characters in this scene, Dabra erases Krillin and PIccolo with magic spit that never comes up again or is meaningful in any way.

You'd think this would be, like, setting up something? Like. Having witnessed it ahead of time, Gohan's able to figure out something about the way Dabra's spit works. So when he fights Dabra in a climactic battle, he can turn this around.

Like when Goku was able to counter Tenshinhan's Taiyoken/Solar Flare in the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai, because he'd seen it before and understood how it works. That's usually what Dragon Ball does with this sort of advance notice of opponent abilities.

But. No. The most this ever comes up again is that it momentarily costs Gohan one of his gloves. It's just here to winnow down the cast because Toriyama brought too many characters to this scene.

You can feel the burnout taking hold. As janky as the Android arc was, the Buu arc's level of jank is through the roof.

And that became it for Videl. Denied any sort of payoff for her one fight and instead relegated to background character, Videl never got a chance to live up to the intriguing potential she was introduced with. She was the face of a new direction for Dragon Ball, a direction that ended up strangled in its crib as the series reverted to old ideas and old formulae - strangling her along with it.

Videl is a character I look at and can't help but wonder what could have been. What could have been if Gohan got to keep his focus, and Videl got to remain a key player in a story about him? What could have been if we got to see Videl developing her skills at the same fever-pace that she learned Bukujutsu with? What could have been if she got that rematch with Spopovich she seemed to have been promised by the narrative, and then got to stay involved throughout the Buu arc?

But I guess we'll never know.

[multifariousqueer]

The talk-Logan Howlett x Reader

A/n: oml the brainrot I have for this man is insane. Feel free to request imagines for this man. 😍😍

Warnings: talks of pregnancy, fluff, fiancé!Logan, idk I think that’s it.

Rain pattered against the windowsill of your shared cozy cabin up East. It was another night of waiting for Logan to return home from X men business and you couldn’t wait to see him; you had news that one of your friends was pregnant and that you were going to be an aunt. Your heart thumped in your chest as you heard your security system go off(ever since Logan joined the X men, he wants to make sure the only good thing[you] in his life is safe) and the sound of heavy boots entering through the door:

“Hey baby I’m home” he said. Logan always felt reassured when he walked through the front door because he knew that everything he needed and wanted was there. The house was always warm with candlelight and something amazing being made.

You had cooked dinner and set the table. All he needed to do was wash his hands and sit down.

“Hey honey! Oh my gosh I missed you”. You chirped as you rushed into his embrace. A hug seemingly lasting for centuries despite it being no longer than thirty seconds quickly melting all stress and worry from Logan’s frame.

Logan smiled down at you and kissed your forehead, resting his on top of yours.

“I missed you too, bub. How was your day?” Logan said. Even after almost dying, he was so thoughtful.

This wasn’t new for Logan and you however, he was always quick to ask about you before you asked about him(although don’t get me wrong, you still asked). This could’ve been due to PTSD or maybe just a natural occurrence in your relationship but either way, you both weren’t complaining.

“OMG YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED!!” You shouted

“hm?” Logan asked, still holding his position on your forehead as you stood there for a minute taking each other in.

“IM GONNA BE AN AUNT AND YOURE GONNA BE AN UNCLE!!” You shouted again.

The news genuinely shocked Logan as he never pegged your friend for being the “parent” type. She was always sweet to him and seemed responsible enough but something made him feel offput. Maybe it was the fact that you guys were talking about children the other day or about how you two always talked about having kids but he felt a twinge of jealousy at this news.

“That’s great, baby” he said through gritted teeth

“What’s wrong?” You picked up on the shift immediately. He was your fiancee after all.

“Nothing” he said, trying his best to hide his displeasure

“Something. Tell me, baby” you cooed.

“It’s just…everyone’s getting pregnant except for us. I’m happy to be an uncle but I want to be a dad, you know?” He said honestly. This was one of the few times that Logan actually expressed himself and his emotions without shutting down. Needless to say, this might not happen again.

“I know, bubs. It’ll be our time soon but between you, the X-Men, our jobs… we just need to focus on each other right now. It’ll happen when it happens but have each other for the time being” you expressed.

A long pause permeated the room. Fear rang through your heart as the worst scenarios played through your mind. What if he shut down again? What if this turned him off? What if’s shot through your head as it was immediately turned down by a gruff voice:

“you’re right. I need to focus on you and me. I shouldn’t have brought it up” he said, remorsefully.

“No no no! Please bring it up but we just need to look at both sides of the coin right now. Okay?” You said reassurangly

“okay” he said with a small smirk on his face.

You both went to the table and made his plate before eating and going to bed. Nights and talks like this are what made you fall for him, the simplicity of complicated conversations and the calm demeanor’s of you both made you want to give him the child you both wanted.

*1 year later*

Tears flooded the corners of your eyes as the test in your hand showed two pink lines.

“Logan!!!” you said, your voice breaking with happiness.

“Yeah baby?” He asked standing by the door.

“Are we ready?” You laughed.

Logan smiled and shook his head before speaking:

“I think so bubs, I think so”



[clockwayswrites]

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

--

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: 8th Anniversary

*Bonus*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem! reader x Bucky Barnes / Stucky x fem! Reader

Warning: language, Fluff, nudity, and smut ( Pegging, dildo)

Polyamorous Material list

"I've never done this before," (Y/n) said nervously " Do you think this is okay?" 

It was their marriage anniversary, eight years. They had the house to themselves. Rose was spending the night with Wanda (actually, she was spending the night with Peter, but her dads didn't need to know that), and Ian was spending the night at Stark's having a good night with Morgan. They had to whole house to themselves to do as they pleased. And they did. 

Getting up for a late breakfast, they made it together. Eating brunch in the garden together. The rest of the afternoon was spent in Steve's art studio, where Steve had the pleasure of painting his husband and wife in the nude, nothing he could hang around the house with kids, obviously, but still beautiful. And that was followed by dinner at a high-class restaurant, an excuse to dress fancy and sexy, the dessert at their favorite family diner. 

Now they were back at home, fancy clothes tossed away as they prepared for their pleasures. Steve was in the bedroom waiting while Bucky and (y/n) were in the bathroom getting ready. 

"We don't have to do this if you don't want," Bucky said as he was kneeling in front of her.

"I'm just worried I won't do it right," (Y/N) confessed. Bucky smiled and kissed her thighs. She gasped as he put one end of the toy inside of her and made sure it was a snug fit.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you" Standing up, Bucky Kissed her, calming her nerves " Now let's go show him our surprise." 

-

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers, fidgeting with his fingers as he waited patiently for his wife and husband, who had disappeared into the bathroom not long ago. Apparently, they had a surprise for him. 

"hi," Bucky said, cracking open the bathroom door and sticking his head out. 

"Hi," Steve chuckled. 

"so," Bucky stepped out but kept the bathroom door slightly closed, " I remember some time ago we were talking, and you said you wanted to try something new" 

Steve looked at him, confused, but he quickly got answers as he opened the door further to reveal (Y/n) standing there in nothing but a Blue pegging dildo. It was like the breath had been stolen from him. 

"What do you think?" (Y/n) asked as she stroked the dildo. She did a little spin showing him her nakedness, that there was no harness, and that the other end was inside her. Steve didn't say anything, not trusting himself to speak he nodded his head as he looked her up and down. She giggled at his loss for words. 

"Sorry, I may have told her about your dream," Bucky said as he watched her walk up to him.

Steve held his breath as she stood in between his legs. She places his hands on her hips, kisses his forehead, and tilts his head to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have given this to you much sooner"

"Sorry, I just-" he stops mid-sentence looking down at (Y/n) dildo and" Bucky"

"yes-"

"no, this is Bucky. I'd recognize your dick, and this is exactly your dick," Steve said, pulling at her Dildo (Y/n) whined at the sensation, placing her hands on his shoulders. Bucky comes up behind (Y/n), kissing the back of her neck. 

"I made is specially made."

"You let someone else touch your dick?!"

"No, God no," Bucky shouted (Y/n) quickly came to his defense. 

"We took a class on how to make molds, and then we came home and... made our own mold ... of his penis." 

"This," Bucky said as he reached forward in front of (y/n), stroking the dildo, "is one of many. We'll have another night to play with the rest of those. Right now, we're done talking. Time for fun." 

-

Leaning down, Bucky kissed Steve. He moaned as he kissed him, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Tugging on his hair, Bucky pulled Steve back, biting his lip as he went. Pulling him back, he brought him closer to (Y/n) dildo. They watched as he slowly took it between his lips and down his throat. 

While the dildo felt like Bucky in his mouth, it lacked a few things. It didn't have the same warmth as Bucky, nor did it twitch when he licked the underneath or spill cum into his mouth when he swallowed. But it was okay because the weight in his mouth was still the same, and it still hit the back of his throat in a good way, and Bucky still moaned all the same. 

"Fuck, doesn't he look beautiful" Bucky whispered, and she whimpered as she slowly thrust her hips forward. Bucky reached forward, grabbing at her breast and pulling at her nipples, and kissing along her neck and jaw.

Bucky chuckled as he watched Steve Deepthroat her while stroking himself. Taking a seat next to Steve, he took his cock into his hand and began to kiss along his neck. 

(Y/n) thread her fingers through Steve's hair as she slowly thrust into his mouth, careful of making him gag or bruise his throat. 

Fair to kind in Bucky's option, but this was her first time he wasn't going to instruct her beyond the minimal. If tonight went well, he'd be teaching her how to properly fuck sooner rather than later.

Suddenly Steve puts a hand on her hip, pushing her away, the other hand pushing Bucky away. She pulled back quickly. 

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?" she quickly kneeled in front of him and began to check his throat. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steve said, reassuring her, kissing her  " You're amazing. Too amazing. You guys are going to make me cum"

"I thought that was the point," Bucky said as he began Kissing along his neck again he leaned his head back to give him more access. 

"And I thought you wanted to peg me"

"Yes, please," (Y/n) said as she pulled him into a kiss

"You don't have to say please," he chuckled against her lips " Now, do you want me to ride you, or do you want to fuck me? I could go for either or. "

" I... I don't know," she whispered hesitantly, Steve pulled away. He cups her face looking for any doubt or fear. 

"Hey, we can stop"

"no," she said quickly, " I just don't know what to do. I-"

" I think she's confused about how she is to fuck you, Steve," Bucky said "And I don't blame her, You are very intimidating and big. " Bucky kisses his shoulder, trying to calm him down. Turning Steve's head, he kisses him gently, opening his mouth for his tongue. Steve moans against him. 

Bucky slowly pushed Steve down as he kissed him. As Steve lay down, Bucky trailed kisses down his chest and to his waistline, and he slowly removed his boxers all the way. Flinging them across the room, he crawled back up and kissed Steve. Steve sat up on his elbows has he watched Bucky step away from him. 

Standing up, Bucky turned to (Y/n) as she had stepped away to watch them. Pulling her closer and kissing her, he whispered against her lips, "You still want to fuck him?" she nodded against his lips "Use your words"

"I...I want to make love to him " 

He smiled against her lips and kissed her as he pulled her closer to the bed and Steve. He helped her into the bed and in between Steve's legs. 

"how about you show her," Bucky said 

Steve lifted his legs, holding the back of his thighs as he presented himself. (Y/n) held her breath as she saw what he wanted to show her. Nuzzled between his cheeks was a blue jewel. It seemed that (y/n) wasn't the only one Bucky helped prep for tonight. She gently pushed on it, making Steve held his breath. 

"I was wondering where this went," she said as she tugged on it. He moaned slightly. 

"go ahead, pull it out," Bucky encouraged her.

And she does, slowly pulling it out, she and Bucky watch and listen as Steve arches his back and moans out. His cock twitch and starts to leak precum. He reaches for (Y/n), but Bucky stops him grabbing (y/n) and taking his hand instead, putting it back on the back of his thigh and spreading his legs wider. 

"Fuck" Steve cursed as she finally pulled it all the way out. 

Taking it from her, Bucky tosses it across the room to be found later. 

"You ready?" He asked Steve 

"what do you think," he said sarcastically 

"What about you?" he asked (Y/n) she nodded "No, need to hear you say it" 

"yes...I'm ready"

Bucky helps the two get closer together and get into position between his legs. He helped her line her up with Steve's back entrance. Holding her hips, he helped push her forward inside of him Steve gasped and whimpered. (Y/n) watched as his mouth opened up in pleasure, and he let out a whimper. As she fully sheath inside of him, she leaned over him, her hands on his chest. 

" Are you okay?" ( y/n) asked, trying to give him the same treatment they always gave her. 

Reaching forward, Steve pulled her down into a kiss. They both moaned as she pushed in deeper. "You said you'd make love to me"

 "I don't..."

Leaning over the both of them and pushing them chest to chest Bucky kissed Steve before turning to (Y/n). " I said I would teach you" 

Gripping her hips again, Bucky pulled her hips back, leaving on the tip and then pushing her forward inside. Back and forth she went with Bucky leading her hips at a steady pace Steve moaned as he felt her faux cock fucked him slow and good, stroking him deep. Making Love to him just as she said.

"Ah, look at you touching me good." he moaned out breathlessly with one hand as he pulled her closer "M-making love ...all by yourself ".

It was then that (Y/n) noticed that she was indeed doing it all by herself. She hadn't realized when Bucky let her go, but he was now sitting against the headboard boxers long gone, not stroking his cock and watching them. He was already leaking cum  just from watching them. He could not resist such a sight. 

"(y/n)," Steve said before he quickly flipped them over with him on top. She moaned out at the sudden movement and feeling. And she continues to moan out as he grinds down on her she tries to grab onto his hips ( as they usually do with her), but he pins her hands to the bed. 

Bucky watches as Steve bounces and grinds on the toy while pinning (Y/n) down. She moaned out and arched her up into him, the toy pressing down onto her clit. He watches as Steve's pre-cum leaks onto her stomach.

"Fuck"  Steve cursed as he began to slow down, his legs shaking and his cock twitching. (Y/n) saw this and started thrusting up into him, trying to help him reach his end. Was this what Bucky saw? Was this how he felt? It felt so good, and he looked so fucking gorgeous she just wanted to fuck him harder, faster. She wanted to watch him cum like this she wanted to watch him paint her stomach with his cum just as he had done for Bucky many times. She wanted that, she wanted that so bad, she wanted to feel that.

"cum" (y/n) moaned "Cum, fuck, please cum, please cum." 

Slipping her hands out of his grasp, she grabbed onto his hips, holding on as she thrust up into him. He moaned as he began to fist his cock, his other hand pulling at the sheets. Seeing what he was doing, she pushed his hand away and began to fist his cock herself. And That was all he needed. 

"Yes," (Y/n) praised as Steve began to cum on her stomach. "Oh, oh fuck yes" She continued to stroke him until he was empty and whimpering from the overstimulation. 

He then pulled himself off of her and rolled over to the side. 

"That...that was amazing," Steve said breathlessly. Turning to look at (Y/n), he found her licking his cum from her hand, and Bucky was licking cum off her stomach. " Fuck,"  And now he was hard again. 

-

"Why didn't You tell me?"  (Y/n) asked as she lay on his chest, tracing patterns on his skin. 

"I don't know, I just ..." Steve sighed " I didn't know how or when to bring it up. Wasn't avoiding it just didn't know how to talk about it. I really don't know, and I'm sorry"

Steve truly didn't know why he kept quiet, he just did. He could give some excuses, and maybe he could find some truth in them, but he could not confidently say why. Maybe this was a conversation with his therapist. No, he piled enough on her without adding his sex life to the mix. ( (Y/n) would bring it up in marriage counseling later on) 

"Sorry? Don't be sorry"

"If anyone is sorry, I am," Bucky mumbled he was on the other side of Steve, lying on his shoulder, slowly dozing off. " I told her your secret instead of waiting for you to tell her, and I'm sorry." 

Bucky knew it probably should have kept his mouth shut, but he wanted to Steve to experience something new and feel good. At their age and with everything they've been through, it was hard to experience new things. 

"I would have never experienced it if you didn't say anything. We would have never had this amazing night. So thank you"  Steve kissed his forehead. (Y/n) leaned over and kissed Bucky as well.  "Thank both of you"

"Don't thank me . Just doing what I love," (Y/n) said as she kissed him "You"

She and Bucky dissolved into fits of giggles. Steve groaned but did not pull away from their embrace. 

They loved him. 

Permanent

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MCU

@acupofhotlatte @actors-hot @drakesfiance @sambucky8

[the1975attheirverybest]

COUNTDOWN TO SATVB

Rockstar Dad

A/N: Based on this request.

Warnings: none. But maybe typos.

————

Matty licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The nerves. Excitement. The acting. The dancing around, screaming some of the lyrics out, enunciating some slowly for dramatic effect, almost tearing up as he looked out at crowd. It was all almost over. Just two more songs.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke into the microphone while his hand rotated the pegs on his guitar. His tech guy, backstage, watching in agony and scampering to find the peg tuner, before Matty completely ruins his hard work.

“We’ve had a long year-“ he paused “who here has seen us before? On our last tour…" the crowd cheered energetically, drawing a smile from him. “Alright! So, we’ve had a long year since our 5th album came out — our 5th album, Being Funny In a Foreign Language, came out in….October of last year, it’s now the end of September; so almost a year— it’s been quite a year, but you know what? We are….STILL at our very best, I’ll tell you that.” He paused, breathing in deeply. “And, we would like to thank a few people who have helped keep us that way. So…” Matty’s eyes wandered over to his two favorite people in the world, momentarily distracting him. As he thought about how his baby girl’s face lit up, earlier in the night, when she watched him walk onto the stage alongside the guys, how her uncoordinated hands had tried to mirror her mother’s clapping along to the rhythm of “Its Not Living,” her waving at him and mouthing “hello!” At the opening lines of “Paris,” as soon as he’d crooned the line “she said hello,” matty was overcome with emotion. He gave his family a small nod. “Give it up for you guys!” He laughed “thank you for coming to our show. We wouldn’t be here without you….” He refocused his eyes, looking at the crowd, taking in the sight. “ Mr. Brad Troemel, without whom, this psychedelic drama wouldn’t exist….”

As he made his way through the list of people that he owed gratitude, Matty watched his wife beam with proud, nodding along, applauding, and even though her claps disappeared into a sea of indistinguishable, identical sounds from the crowd, Matty felt hers differently. He could see that she was telling him to take the moment in. To be present. To be proud of himself.

“Most importantly, though…” He set down his guitar, his stealthy guitar tech ceasing the opportunity to swoop in and replace it with another instrument, and walked over to the side of the stage. “Give it up for my two favorite ladies.”

Matty jumped offstage, the crowd cheering and whistling loudly, his security staff rushing to keep up with him. He took his daughter into his arms. She was ecstatic to finally be in her daddy’s arms after calling out to him and sticking her arms out, gesturing for him to come to her all night.

Matty paused in front of the stage, considering his dilemma. How was he going to climb back on with his precious baby in his arms? Luckily for him, Mark understood what was going on, and so did Ross. While Mark lifted Matty back up, Ross held the baby in his arms, greeting her gently and cooing to her as she impatiently wiggled around, desperate to be reunited with her dad.

“A long time ago; in a whole other life, I used to do this thing…” Matty reminisced in front of the microphone, ‘An Encounter’ playing in the background. “Where I would kiss fans. I mean- fans who’s asked for it. I wasn’t, like, walking going up to random women and just kissing their lips for no reason, just to clarify.” He wandered over to Ross, taking his daughter back into his arms. “Cuz the internet does love a ‘Matty Healy is a creep’ story. This’ll

Probably be viral by the end of the night. Headlines like ‘Matty Healy confesses to getting off with several fans onstage.’ Anyway, what was I saying? Right! It was a thing. During robbers. You know? The Robbers Kiss.” Crowds cheering loudly promoted Adam to walk up behind Matty and fix the baby girl’s noise canceling headphones, making sure they lined up perfectly and provided maximum protection.

“Nowadays though?” Matty grinned widely, turning to look into his daughters eyes. “This is the only kiss that I care about.” He placed the gentles, softest kiss to his baby’s cheek.

When the crowd swooned, reacting the only way that one could possibly react to the infamous reformed dirtbag melting, rather publicly, at the mere sight of his baby girl, Matty’s daughter seemed to realize, for the first time, that she was looking at an endless sea of human beings, as far out as her eyes could see. Her moth fell open, hypnotized, she stared at the twinkling lights. In his ear piece, Matty heard George say something about this being the moment that his child discovers what Matty does for a living. Watching his daughter’s face, Matty’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“You see that, baby? Daddy’s a rockstar. All these people….” His voice getting caught in his throat, he chuckled, kissing the very top of her head and walking over to where the security guys were anxiously waiting.

Reluctantly, he handed the love of his life back to them, standing there, with a watchful eye, and waiting to resume his post until he’d made sure that she was back in the safety of her mothers arms.

He wiped the tears out of his eyes with the back of his arm. “That’s was a…” he rushed over to the microphone. “Anyway, if you were on tumblr in 2013, this one’s for you.”

George’s cue to play ‘Robbers.’

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 18 (Steddie X You)

A/N: This one is a wee bit different. They are experimenting in the bedroom but everyone is having a good time :)

Warnings: Dads Steddie and Mom Fem Y/N, SMUT, Pegging is the main thing here with all the regular smut that comes with these three, FLUFF and no angst!

Word Count: 4018

“So for handcuffs and a nightie, you drove two hours out of town?”, Eddie muses as he looks through the clothes at the sex store you three had traveled to. 

“I did because I love you.”, you grin. 

“Aw, that’s cute.” He smiles when you scrunch your nose playfully in his direction. “Is Harrington the test subject again or…?”

“I’m down for anything.”, Steve shrugs.

“Be careful what you say, baby.”, you sing as you hit him lightly with one of the whips you found. He chuckles as he jokingly wrestles it from your grasp and lifts you over his shoulder to carry you to where Eddie was browsing toys. 

“Are we that old? I don’t know what half this stuff is or for.”, the metalhead exhales as he picks up something random and flashes it towards you two before placing it back down. 

“What about this?”, you ask, showing them the strap on you found. “It’s a little intimidating.”

They hear your breathing stutter a bit as you continue to look at with fascination. “What’s intimidating? The thing itself or using it?”

“I mean…I’m not a guy. I’ve never had to…ya know.”

“Holy shit, Steven. It took about 8 years but we finally found something sexual that makes Y/N blush.”

Steve walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as he leans his head on top of yours. “We can show you.”, he whispers making you lick your lips at his words. 

“O-okay.”

Eddie beams as he takes the box from your hands and bends down to kiss you. “So fucking cute.”

*** 

“Shit.”, Robin curses under her breath as Dylan beats her again for the thousandth time at his video game. “I’m not good at this! I have no hand/eye coordination.”

“All I hear are excuses.”, your son laughs. 

“Whatever. I’m going to hang out with the baby who doesn’t talk.”, she grins as she playfully pushes him to the side. 

“Mommy!”, Aurora shouts, running into your arms as you guys walk through the door. 

“Oh God.”, you brace as she jumps and you lift her into the air. “What’s going on, my love? Did you have fun with Robin?”

“Uh huh. Aunt Robin said a bad word.”

“Tattletale.”

“Why are you cursing in front of my kids?”, Steve teases as he plops himself down next to her on the sofa. 

“Why are your kids so mean? Especially that one.” She points towards Dylan who sticks his tongue out at her before focusing back on his game. “At least this one was nice to me. Weren’t you, James?”

He giggles and claps his hands at her smile. From Steve so far, James definitely inherited his big, beautiful grin and scrunched his tiny nose when he laughed which you absolutely adored. His hair was too short right now to see if he had the same smooth locks as his father but at the moment he seemed to be heading in that direction. 

“Can you say Robin? Roooobiiiiiiiiin.” Just like Ro had done when she was a baby, his only response was to headbutt her making her grunt jokingly as she passed the boy to her friend. “Alright that’s my queue to leave. See you buttheads later!”

After she left, you made dinner and then spent the rest of the evening relaxing with your family. Dylan sat in the corner with his headphones on as he strummed his guitar Eddie had given him from his own collection. You and Steve sat on the couch with your legs thrown over his while Eddie laid on the floor with James and Aurora as The Princess Bride played on TV.

“James…James…James, daddy’s hair isn’t like yours, dude. Ow.”, the metalhead whines as he tries to remain calm while the baby pulls at his hair. 

“James! No.”, Ro giggles. “You don’t pull hair. It not nice.”

“Yeah, tell him, sweetheart.”

“Mommy?” She calls your name and you answer with lighthearted hm. “When…when will I meet my…my true love?”

“Never. We’re going to lock you in a tower like Rapunzel.”

Steve tries to hide his laughter at Eddie’s joke as you make a face at his answer. “No, baby. I won’t let daddy do that.”

“You’ll have to catch me first, woman.”

You stick out your tongue as he chuckles. “I don’t know, Ro, when you’ll meet them but when you do I promise you’ll know.”

“How did you know?”

Both men’s eyes shimmer with delight and anticipation as they wait for your answer. 

“I just knew.”, you grin. 

“Oh, baby, come on. I know there’s more to it then that.”, Steve beams as you bite your bottom lip. 

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Yes.”, both boys responded in unison making you blush. Aurora looks at you with wide expectant eyes as she waits for your answer. 

“Yes, but mommy was hardheaded and had to make it complicated.”

“Comp-limated?”

“Complicated. Um, harder.”, Eddie explained. 

“Oh…why?”

“Because… I had Dylan and he was my main concern at the time. I wanted him to be happy.”

Her face furrows in confusion as she fully turns away from the tv. “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get, babe?”, Steve asks as he motions for her to come sit on his lap. 

“You…are Dylan’s dada…” Her tiny fingers point to his chest. “But, but, but mommy had him…before she met…met you and daddy?”

Eddie smiled when you heavily exhaled. 

“Oh, I was hoping we could skip the awkward questions stage.”, you mumble as you smirk. “Ed, you want to take this one?”

“Not really.”, he giggles. 

“Hey, Ro.”, Dylan calls her name and she shifts in her dad’s lap to face him. “You remember when you asked why dad calls grandpa Wayne instead of dad and we told you it was because grandpa took dad in when he was older than you?” She adamantly nods her head. “Kind of the same thing.”

“Ooooooooh…ok!”, Aurora exclaims as she shrugs her shoulders and shuffles back down to the floor to continue watching the movie.

“Are you a child spy or something? How do you do that?”, Eddie sarcastically asks as all three adults smile in his direction. 

“You people make it too complicated.”, he chuckles. “Just answer honestly.”

You toss a pillow in his direction that he blocks with his hand and tosses back. 

#############

“What are you smiling about over there?”, Steve asks as he comes into the bedroom and closes the door. 

“Dylan. I’m just always amazed at how smart he is, you know? I’m proud of him.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid. Always has been.”

“I hope I didn’t make you guys feel bad with my answer to Aurora’s question. I WAS being honest. He was my main priority but I didn’t even think you’d be attracted to me. Two sexy single guys across the way from a single mom in the middle of a divorce…”

While you were talking, Eddie had come out of the bathroom and sat beside you on the bed. 

“I didn’t even really think about it until you came over that first time Charlie bailed on him.” You wrapped your arms around him as you leaned your chin on his shoulder. “You both made him happy. You made ME happy.”

The metalhead turned to kiss your forehead before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you on to his lap as he leaned back. 

“Ok, I’m done being sappy.” 

Steve laughs as he lays down beside the other man and takes your hand in his as he fiddles with your fingers. 

“I like when you get sappy.”, he grins. “That being said, did you two think about who the guineapig was going to be?”

“Why can’t it be both? Unless you think you can’t handle it, baby.” The way Eddie said that was in no way meant to be mocking. Since you got shy about it in the store and even now, they wanted to make sure you were comfortable. 

“God why does this make me nervous!?”, you giggle as you cover your face.

“Because you’re adorable.”, he smiled as he pulled your hands back down to his chest. “How about we go slow and we’ll talk with you the whole way through.”

“I like when you two talk to me especially since Stevie became a teacher. Sometimes you shift into that authoritative tone when your talking dirty and it’s hot.”

“I seriously didn’t even notice.”

“We did.”, Eddie chuckles as he grips your waist and flips you on to your back. “Why don’t you go get the thing while I get this beautiful girl ready?”

Steve playfully rolls his eyes as he gets up to look for the box you hid after coming home from the shop. The metalhead gently kisses you lips as his lifts off your shirt and runs his tongue down your body. 

“Just so fucking gorgeous. Isn’t she, Harrington?”

“Always.”, he winks.

As he slides off your pants with your panties, you squirm as he continues to kiss along your skin on the inside of your thigh, down your calf, and to your feet.

When his mouth wraps around your clit, your nerves melt away as stars cloud your vision. Eddie was always a master between your legs. You assumed it was because since he used his mouth 24/7 to talk to almost anyone and everyone that would listen, he could make it work for him during foreplay. He was also incredibly patient, slowing down and using every moment to taste every part of your sex, driving you wild. 

“Yes, Eddie, please.”

His palms came to up to press down your thighs, holding your legs open wide as he shoved his face deeper into you making you moan. Your fingers threaded through his hair as his tongue flicked in and out of your entrance occasionally shaking his head to allow his nose to brush against your nub. 

“Fuck, baby. Don…don’t stop. M’gonna cum.”

Your legs trembled in his grasp as the coil in your tummy snapped and you whimper his name, tugging at his wavy mane. 

“So fucking good.”, he murmured before glancing at the other boy. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Come here, honey.” Shakily, you slid of the bed and placed yourself between Steve’s legs at the edge. “Ok, step in here.” You cling to his shoulders as he guides your movements until the strap on is secure to your hips. “Good job, baby. Now this end goes inside of you. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.”

They both carefully watched your face as his hands held the base of the silicone material and eased it into your core. Your eyes fluttered closed as you moaned.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. You’re going—mmm—to laugh at me but it’s smaller than you two so it doesn’t physically hurt but���fuck—just the excitement of trying this…I feel like I’m going to cum again.”

They do laugh but not at you. They’d lying if they didn’t say they were ready to bust at any moment. Seeing you get nervous and giddy in the store made them hard mostly because they didn’t think they could have that effect on you anymore. Now that you were getting ready to use it and seeing your reaction had them struggling to keep any kind of control as their cocks pushed unbearably so against their pants. 

“Well, we have to get this cock ready since this side isn’t exactly smaller than we are.”

Spinning you around, he places you in his spot at the edge of the bed, removes his clothes, and sinks to his knees in front of you. Gripping the base, Steve spits on the tip of it making you groan at the action.

“How are you doing, princess?”, Eddie asks when the man wraps his lips around the toy and begins bobbing his head. 

“I-I can feel it. He’s making it move ev-every time he goes lower.”

The metalhead smirks as he brushes your hair back from your shoulder. “Deeper the better, right, babe? Go a little faster, Stevie.”

The man does what he suggests causing the dildo in your cunt to steadily move back and forth making you whine in pleasure.

“Fuck, Steve. Please…” Your fingers push through his hair as you pull it firmly making him mewl. Abruptly, you clenched your hand, holding him still as you thrust your hips forward making him gag and drool all over you. 

“Fuck me. That’s fucking hot. Don’t stop, Y/N. Keep-Keep fucking his face.”, Eddie moaned loudly as he pushed off his pants and rapidly began stroking his cock. “I need to cum, baby, I can’t wait.”

“St-Steve? Are you still ok?”, you asked and were met with a rush of his lips as he forcefully came up to passionately kiss you. 

“I’m so fucking fine, honey. Do that again. Make yourself cum.”

Placing your other hand in his hair, you clung to him as you thrust upwards, using him to chase your high. His own fingers dug into the meat of your hips guiding you till your vision was blinded and you came hard. Eddie whimpered next to you as you turned your head to see him release his seed on to his thighs. 

“Steve, baby. You, uh, you’ll have to go first. I need to recharge.”, the metalhead chuckles as he pats the bed beside him. 

Steve climbs up your body, kissing your sweaty frame along the way. “How do you want me?”

He smirks as your face becomes bright red and he leans down to softly kiss your lips. “Tell me, beautiful girl. How do you want to fuck me?”

“I want to see your face. I want to watch your face…” Nodding, he kisses you again before flipping over onto his back. “Eddie, can you help me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He gently moves you around till you’re in-between the other boy’s legs who in response opens and lifts them up for you, holding them up at the knee. With his palm on your lower back, he pushes you forward and as you take hold of the base of the toy, pressing it towards his entrance. “There you go, baby. You may feel a bit of resistance but that’s because pretty boy here is tight as fuck. Whenever you’re ready.”

Your eyes meet Steve’s silently asking for permission and when he nods again, you slowly begin to inch forward. 

“Oh fuuuuck…”, he moans as his head falls back against the mattress. “Ke-keep going, babe. It feels really fucking good.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you watch him squirm and fall apart underneath you. This is because of you and it’s making you clench tightly around the toy inside of you. 

“Yes, baby, you look so fucking sexy right now. You don’t—mmm—you don’t even know. Please…please, Y/N. Take me, baby, I’m yours.”

Your head hangs as you begin thrusting into him until fingers find your chin and tilt your eyes towards the man under you. 

“You said you wanted to watch him, sweetheart. He’s so handsome when he comes apart like this isn’t he?” Eddie leans over Steve’s cock and a line of spit falls on the tip before he reaches down to stroke him, matching your pace. 

“Oh fuck you, Munson.”, he groans as he cranes his neck back.

The metalhead grins as he leans in close and continues to whisper things in your ear. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking sexy taking him like this with your beautiful tummy glistening as you pump in him. Jesus, your entire body is gorgeous, just like his. Look at what you’re doing to him. You should try rolling your hips and press deeper into him.”

His hand guided you down to Steve’s chest who promptly encases you in his arms as you did what Eddie suggested. 

“Yes, baby. Faster, please. I’m gonna cum. Cum with me.”

Your sides began to burn as you did what he requested but you didn’t care. As your forehead fell on his, his pants warmed your face and you quickly covered his mouth as he moaned loudly. You both came at the same time, your body shuttering against his as you felt his spend hit your stomach. Leaning back, you continued to stroke him, elongating his orgasm as much as you could. 

“Ok, ok, please…please.” Steve reached for your hand as he begged you to stop. 

When you gradually pulled out, you collapsed against Eddie’s chest who in turn fell back against the pillows as he played with your hair and murmured praises.

“You did amazing, princess. Look at him. He’s in heaven right now because of you. Are you ok? Do you need some water or anything? Actually, I don’t know why I’m asking.” He reaches for the glass near the bed and places the rim near your lips. “Drink this, baby.”

You do as he says relishing the cool liquid as it slides down your throat. 

“I want to make you feel good to.”

“We can do again another time—”

“Please, Eddie.”

He chuckles as he kisses your forehead. “Ok, come here, my love.”

Turning you around he places your back against the headboard with pillows behind you so you’d be more comfortable. Steve sluggishly moved out of the way as you extended your legs, lying beside you both as he continued to watch with hooded eyes. 

“Alright, sweetheart, you did so well but I’m going to take more of the control here, ok?”

“I’m ok with that.”, you grin as he straddles his legs on either side of you.  

Reaching behind him, he took hold of the toy and slowly began descending onto it. 

“Fuck me.”

“D-Do you need lube or anything?”

Eddie aggressively shook his head, his hair blocking his face as he continued what he was doing till you felt his body against yours. Keeping most of the weight on his knees he began bouncing on top of you and a strangled moan left both your lips. Your fingers extended up to trail down his chest to his stomach as you took in the sight of him. Is this how they felt when you were riding them?

“F-fuck, Eddie. You look so—mmm—so good.”

Steve’s own fingers reached out trail the sweat down your throat to your tits as he played with your nipples, pinching them between his thumb and index making you whimper. You don’t know if it was seeing him like this or having the other boy touch you the way he was but your second wind suddenly came and took over. 

Grabbing Eddie’s waist, you pushed him off of you and to the side onto his tummy, climbing on top of him, and motioning for him to spread his legs. 

He moaned at your confidence, doing what you asked, and grunting as you slid into his ass. Leaning forward, you thrust your hips as his arm flew back to press his fingers into your thighs trying to guide you. 

“I want you to feel…what he felt…” You kissed along his shoulders, moving some of his hair away from his face. “Tell me what—mmm—what you need, baby. Please.”

“H-harder.”, was all he could get out, his jaw going slack when you pounded your hips into his. 

Pushing up on to your palms, you watched as Steve slid his hand into the boy’s hair behind his head and brought his lips to his. Their tongues mingled together as you fell against his back, rolling your hips as he groaned.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, Eddie whined against the other man’s lips as he came, rutting his hips between you and the mattress. As he pushed back against you, it was enough to send you over the edge again as you pressed your face into his back and came as well. 

After pulling out of him, you tumbled on to your back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your hand blindly slid between your legs as you maneuvered the toy out of your now aching, overstimulated hole. When you finally opened your eyes to glance their way, you found them drunkenly smiling at you with half lidded eyes; Eddie still on his stomach with Steve resting his cheek between the other man’s shoulder blades. 

“I may need to start doing some crunches or something because my abs are sore.” Their grins grow as you giggle. “Did I do okay?”

The metalhead’s arm shot out to tug you closer to them, resting it across you as his palm pets your sweaty head.

“Better than.”, he murmured as Steve nodded in agreement. 

Silently, they roll out of bed and pick you up, bringing you to the bathroom to get clean. As the tub filled up, Eddie sat on the edge and helped you step out of the harnesses of the strap on. Once everything was ready, the three of you piled in as you cocooned yourself against Steve’s chest. 

“How did it feel for you?”, he asked as his palms roamed along your arms.

“I liked it a lot. More so watching what it did to you two. Did you like it because of the toy or because of me?”

“Both.”, Eddie answers. “You became more confident with it. It was sexy.”

“I wouldn’t say confident.”, you laugh. “I just wanted to make you feel good. I—”

“It felt good seeing us cum and knowing it was because of you.”, Steve finished for you. “We know the feeling.”

“I love you both…so much.”

“We love you to, sweetheart.”

The baby monitor in the bedroom pulls everyone from their blissful haze as James’s loudly comes through.

“I got him.” Steve rises as he grips your arm and helps you out as Eddie follows. 

While he changes the sheets, you quickly pull on some underwear and one of the metalhead’s shirts before hiding the strap-on in the bathroom making a mental note to clean it in the morning.

Right as you emerge back into the bedroom, Steve comes back with a wide-eyed baby who promptly falls into your arms. 

“Oof. What’s wrong, baby boy? You miss us?”

Once the bed becomes available, you climb into it and place James on your lap to lean against your knees as Eddie flops down beside you in his sweats. 

“Sir, it is after midnight. You should be asleep.” The baby babbles in his direction and reaches for his finger as the metalhead tries to poke his nose. “Nope. Nothing can stop me!”

As soon as the pad of his index fingers connect, James smiles wide in his direction. 

After you took the baby, Steve disappeared to heat up the bottle, shaking it as he returned and climbed in beside you. As you lay him between you both, he places the end into his mouth, trying to hold it with his little hands as Steve holds the end. 

“I remember a time when this frightened you.”, you smiled. “Obviously, there was no reason to be.”

James’s eyes began to droop as he rubbed his fist against them. You can’t help but giggle when you hear Eddie’s light snores behind you. 

“I think we’re all exhausted.”, Steve grins as he reaches out to pet your head. “Close your eyes, baby. I’ll sit with him till he’s done.”

As you shift your body further into the bed, Eddie flings his arm around your hip and tugs you closer to his chest as his face nuzzles into your shoulder. Steve’s eyes trace along the three faces of his family as his heart swells with pride. He tried remembering a time in his life when he was happier but the only things that came to mind were from the point when Dylan knocked on their door to now. 

When James finally fell asleep, he carried him back to his room and tucked him in. As he climbed back into his own bed, he caressed both your faces before snuggling up in front of you and holding your hand as he closed his eyes. 

############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @strangerfreak

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Here's part 2 of Caught. Just a warning that this does feature some homophobic language (the f slur a few times and Terry's nasty views on gay people as a whole)

I wrote it to show Colin's internal struggle. He loves his brother, doesn't care that he's gay but still lives with the knowledge of how Terry thinks and what he'd do. I also forgot to mention (I said it on ao3) that this takes place in s1 and Terry is in prison

Also I hope Fiona doesn't sound too OOC. In this universe since she's dating a Milkovich herself, she wouldn't really care all that much that Ian is doing the same thing with Mickey

@callivich

@zutaralesbian (I didn't know if you'd want to be tagged or not but I saw in your tags when you reblogged the first part that it was an interesting premise)

Anyway, here's chapter 2:

****

Colin stood with his back to the front door for nearly a minute. While he promised Fiona he’d go talk to Mickey, he wasn’t really sure how to do that. Milkovich’s didn’t do heart-to-heart talks. They didn’t even apologize, just moved on, pretending it never happened. 

And what the fuck is he even supposed to say? Did Mickey need more reassurance? He already said he didn’t give a shit, should be enough damn assurance. 

He rubbed the side of his nose. Goddamn it, he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t care but this was out of his expertise. Finding out his brother was a fag was just mind blowing. He’d never peg Mick as one of them. Weren’t they supposed to be weak and shit? Terry always said you could tell who was a fag and who wasn’t. But Colin wouldn’t have been able to tell if Gallagher or Mickey were by just looking at them. 

He was so fucking confused. 

“He needs to know you aren’t going to kick his ass over it.” 

He wouldn’t, and that’s what made the situation all the more complicated. He should hate Mickey on the spot, to think of him as nothing more than vermin. That’s what Terry said.

And well, Colin used to agree. Until he stopped giving a fuck. He didn’t know when that happened, when he would have willingly participated in a good ol’ fag bash to being indifferent so long as it didn’t involve him. 

He’d brush off Terry’s rants about them, not bothering to speak up because he knew it’d only earn him his dad’s wrath. But now, knowing Mickey was hearing all of this, living a life no one else knew about, made his stomach twist uncomfortably. 

He’d be expected to go in there and beat the living shit out of him. Kick him out and let him live on the streets. His little brother that he used to help feed and entice him to walk by dangling cigarette butts and other things a child that young shouldn't be touching. 

“Make sure he’s okay,” Fiona’s voice came back to him. 

Colin blew out a puff of air, going right towards Mickey’s bedroom without knocking. 

He found his youngest brother shoving clothes into a duffle bag, making him stop in his tracks. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“What’s it look like, dipshit?” Mickey shot back defensively. His hand was itching to grab the handgun that was laying on his dresser. “I’m getting out of here.” 

“Why?” Colin demanded. 

“Don’t act fucking stupid. It’s what you want,” Mickey was incredibly tense, like he was expecting a fight to break out. 

“When the fuck did I tell you to leave?” Colin shoved him. Mickey took this as a sign to fight; he pushed with all his might so his older brother’s back would land against the wall with a thud. 

Fuck that. Colin hurled himself on top of Mickey, knocking him to the floor so he was effectively pinned. He tried to fight against it, but Colin had his hands pressed into the boy’s shoulders. 

“What is your problem?” He demanded. Mickey wasn’t responding, he was doing whatever he could to get away. “Fucking hell-Mickey! Answer me or I swear to fucking God I’m going to knock your teeth out!” 

His shout had stirred Mandy, who shrieked at them to shut the fuck up. 

Below him, Mickey was breathing heavily, staring up with wide, panicked eyes. 

He was supposed to look his brother in the eyes and beat him within an inch of his life, to make him think twice about fucking other guys. 

“Calm down,” Colin probably should have known that wasn’t going to do much but give him a fucking break. He was new to this. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is but I said I didn’t give a shit about you liking dick.”

“Like I believe a damn word of that,” Mickey snapped. 

“What the fuck do you want me to say, dickhead?” Frustration leaked into Colin’s voice. “You want me to hold your damn hand or somethin’?” 

“Fuck you!” Mickey tried to kneed him in the balls. If it weren’t for Colin being stronger than his brother, he would’ve been nursing some black and blue balls. “You’re just gonna go and tell Dad anyway!” 

“What?” Colin stared down at him. “Why the fuck would I do that?” 

This seemed to make his brother freeze, staring back up at him warily. 

Jesus. Mickey really thought Colin was going to tell him like he got some sick enjoyment out of knowing what would end up happening to him if their psychotic father knew. 

And he didn’t- a horrible feeling crawled up Colin’s back with the realization that while Mickey had seemingly reacted well out there, he must have been fucking terrified about what was going to happen once they were alone. 

He didn’t know. Didn’t think about this at all. Other than a few obligatory dick jokes at Mick’s expense, Colin didn’t think this was going to be an issue. 

“God, Mickey,” Colin sat back, taking his hands off his brother. “I’m not-I won’t tell Dad about this.” 

He peeled himself off Mickey, standing up. His brother slowly did the same, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Why?” He said. 

Colin raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to tell him?” 

“No, you asshole,” Mickey said, looking like he was gearing up for another fight. 

“Okay, then. What’s the problem?” 

“But...” Mickey looked younger all of a sudden. The anger was gone, now he just seemed confused. “I’m a fag.” 

Colin shrugged. “Yeah. But you’re still my brother.” 

At this, Mickey’s gaze turned gobsmacked, rendering him speechless. 

“We both know what Terry would do,” Colin said, voice quiet. “I ain’t doin’ that to you.” 

Mickey blinked, arms limply hanging by his sides. He stared at Colin for what felt like a long time, nodding slowly. 

“Just be careful, okay? If you’re gonna suck some dick, do it where Terry won’t find you.” 

He didn’t want to think about Terry ever finding out. But one thing’s for sure, he’d fucking kill the bastard if he had to before he ever let him touch Mickey. 

“Yeah,” Mickey sounded a bit dazed. “Okay.” 

Colin contemplated his next thought, clicking his tongue. “I ain’t gonna make you tell Ig or Mandy, but they ain’t gonna care either.” 

“I ain’t tellin’ them,” Mickey was shaking his head. 

“Okay,” Colin shrugged. 

Silence permeated the air. 

They’d spent too much time in touchy-feely territory, so Colin decided to break it up. “So,” he said casually, “Ian, huh?” 

“Don’t fucking start,” Mickey said warningly. 

Colin couldn’t help but smirk at the blush on his brother’s cheeks.  “Didn’t know you liked redheads.” 

This just embarrassed Mickey further, much to his amusement. “Don’t you have a fucking date to get ready for?” 

“Fiona will understand,” he reasoned. Mickey scowled. “So, you gonna unpack your shit and quit actin’ so dramatic?” 

“Whatever,” Mickey grumbled, but he did just that, pulling his clothes out to stuff back into his dresser drawers. 

“I meant what I said, you know,” Colin said, watching Mickey slow his movements. “I don’t care. You’re my brother no matter if you like dick or not. That ain’t changin’.” 

Mickey’s eyes flickered to him. “Thanks,” he said, shifting his footing. 

“I just got one question,” Colin said seriously. 

“What?” 

Colin couldn’t keep up the serious facade any longer, and let a grin bloom over his face. “Who sticks it in who?” 

---

“So, a Milkovich, huh?” 

The Gallagher house was quiet. Surprisingly, none of the other kids were up yet so no one else knew about Fiona or Ian’s whereabouts last night. She’d rather keep it that way, at least concerning herself. No need to tell them anything right now. 

After having changed into fresh clothes, taking care of her hair and brushing her teeth, Fiona went back downstairs to wait. Ian changed too, but he was going to go back to bed once he got a cup of juice to quench his thirst. 

They sat across from each other, neither one speaking at first. Fiona observed the way her brother ducked his head a little, a flush taking over his face that made his freckles stand out more than they already did. 

“Yeah,” his eyes dropped down to his cup, hands wrapped around it. 

“How’d that happen?” Fiona said with curiosity. She never would have thought Mickey Milkovich of all people was secretly gay, and to be dating her brother on top of it. 

Ian raked his teeth over his lower lip, contemplating. “He was shopping from Kash and Grab,” he said. “Linda gave Kash a gun to keep him from doing it again but he took that too. So I went to the Milkovich house to get it back.” 

Fiona was dumbfounded. Not many people had the balls to go to that house after all the rumors that circled around the SouthSide about them. 

“Okay, and then what happened?” 

Taking a deep breath, ian said, “I went in his room and kind poked him with a tire iron-” 

“What the fuck?” 

“He tried to fight me,” Ian recounted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Jesus, I’m surprised that’s all he tried to do,” she shook her head. “Then what happened?” 

Given the sheepish smile and the way he wouldn’t look her in the eyes, Fiona is fairly sure she won’t like the answer. “We fucked.” 

“You fought and you fucked?” She said incredulously. 

“Yeah...” 

There was so much she wanted to say, but it was probably hypocritical considering she had her own Milkovich. Instead, she tucked a curl behind her ear, choosing her next word carefully. “Does anyone else know?” 

“No,” Ian said, looking pleadingly at her. “And you can’t tell anyone.” 

“I won’t,” she promised, taking a glance at the clock on the microwave. 

Still had around ten minutes ‘till she had to leave. 

“You're not upset,” Ian began, causing her to look his way, “are you?” 

The question kinda threw her off. “Upset about what?” 

“Me and Mickey,” he said quietly. 

“Ian, you know I don't have a problem with you being gay.” 

“No,” he shook his head, “not that. I mean because he's a Milkovich.” 

“I can't really say anything, can I?” She shrugged. “It’s surprisin’ but if you're happy that's all that matters. Besides, anyone can see Mickey clearly feels the same.” 

This information made Ian beam. He'd never really had any crushes  before like Lip did, at least any that he told her about. There was his whole obsession with Justin Timberlake, though, when he managed to get his hands on a CD and for a long while they all had to endure that music. 

“What about you and Colin?” Ian said, “How’d that happen?” 

“Would you believe I was drunk off my ass?” Fiona rolled her eyes. “Went to a new bar after a shitty shift. He was there too, didn’t even recognize him at first.” 

“And you...fucked?” Ian clarified. 

“Yeah,” she said simply. “Made out before that for a while before I realized who he was.” 

She’d initially not known what to think once some of the haze in her head cleared up a bit, staring into the bright eyes of Colin Milkovich. She’d heard all the rumors, of course, who hadn’t? She knew what a screwed up mess his family was, but it wasn’t like she had it any better with Frank and Monica. 

So Fiona said fuck it and went for it. The two of them had sex in the single stall bathroom for what she believed would be the first and only time. 

Only, it hadn’t been. 

The two of them found more ways to be around each other, coming into each other’s presence unnecessarily, which led to them to fuck on a non regular basis. 

Ian nodded, taking it all in. 

“Just promise me something,” she said once the silence started to settle. 

He sat up a little straighter. “What’s that?” 

“Promise me you’ll be safe?” She said seriously. “Their dad isn’t like Frank. He’s much worse and he’ll fuck you up and get a bunch of his buddies to do the same. If you want to be with Mickey, fine, but you need to be smart about it.” 

“I will,” he said immediately. “Don’t worry, Fi. We’ll be careful Mickey’s scared about it too.” 

“He told you that?” 

“Didn’t have to,” Ian said grimly. She let out a heavy sigh.  

It shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn't have to worry about her brother or his boyfriend getting jumped or worse. But as long as people like Terry Milkovich roamed the streets, neither one of them would be safe.

Her brother’s voice brought her out of her musings. 

“I didn't expect Colin to be okay with it.” 

“With Mickey being gay?” She said. 

He nodded. “I know Mandy's not like that but from what Mickey said, his brother and cousins all follow his dad's lead.” 

“He's not his dad,” Fiona knew that for a fact. “Neither is Iggy. They just can't let Terry know that.” 

“Jesus,” Ian muttered. He looked at her, like he was able to say something else. “Do you think Mickey's okay? I think he was a bit freaked out that you and Colin know.” 

“He's probably fine,” Fiona said. At least, she thought so. Whether Colin would handle this appropriately was debatable. When Ian yawned, she smiled fondly. “Get some sleep, Sweetface. You still got work later.” 

“Okay,” he got up to rinse his cup, dragging himself up the stairs. “Night, Fi.” 

“Night,” she watched him disappear around the corner. 

[nofacednerd]

okay finale thoughts

I don't think they took out any scenes but I do think it's funny that they renamed the title of the episode

hughie's... counter-proposal I guess? was so genuinely sweet that I'm mad it wasn't real

On that. 3rd time in back to back episodes not even 5 minutes in. That's gotta be a record. I thought they were actually going to acknowledge it as assault when he seemingly got very upset about the pegging joke she made and started squeezing the water bottle, but I guess not. My hope is that all the criticism they received while handling all of this, they'll actually take and acknowledge it in the show

Hughie canon bottom but at what cost...........

BUTCHER WITH THE TEMP-V INDUCED WHITE HAIR STREAKS. MY HEADCANON IS REAL

I think it's so funny that Butcher's last wish was for hughie to go to some random hooters in Nevada for him. Part of me wonders if he knew about the stupid Maid in Manhattan tour he went on entirely because it was his dad's last wish and wanted to see what he would agree to if he sounded sad enough about it

Ashley my problematic queen I hope you get to have fucking awesome scary superpowers next season and help take down the supes w the gang

Just. Shoutout to Erin Moriarty for being an insanely talented actress. Love that the shapeshifter just kept biting people as her go-to attack. Fucking knocked it out of the park

Annie choking the shapeshifter to death instead of using her powers felt symbolic somehow but it's 4 in the morning and I can't think about it rn. Good for her either way.

They also never actually explained why her powers just. Stopped working?? I'm guessing it was an emotional thing but I felt like things didn't change THAT much by the end of the season for her to suddenly be charged up enough to fly?

Okay but also. I'm kind of mad that they didn't acknowledge what the shapeshifter did to Hughie was assault and not only that but they had Annie get mad at HIM about it. Like girl hello???? Out of literally everyone I would expect at least Annie to understand, but for some reason they show loves having them have relationship drama that comes from fucking nowhere

That being said, I am SO glad they didn't break up again. That would have fucking sucked. Curious if the engagement thing will ever come up again since she got the ring back. I imagine if it does it'll be the end of the show

Also his little "FUCK YESSS" fist pump to himself. I just need to take a second to appreciate that that was so funny LMAO

I'm not gonna lie... I actually got pretty on-board with the Frenchie Kimiko QPR. aroace Kimiko you still live in my head rent free

I just know. I just KNOW. There's going to be SO MANY tentacle smut fics about Butcher by the end of the week. You horny motherfuckers are going to eat that shit up

Also going to be honest. I'm kind of mad they took out Neuman. She was such an interesting character and I always thought her views didn't conflict at all with the rest of The Boys, so I was really hoping for a redemption arc. She also had such an interesting dynamic with both Hughie and Annie (and Zoe having beef with Kimiko is fucking great). Idk she could have been a fun addition to the group

I was actually kind of excited to see The Boys split off to different countries and have to come back together next season, but I think them all getting kidnapped (and presumably thrown in prisons?) is much more interesting. I kind of hope they let Hughie be the main character again next season now that Butcher has gone off the rails and might? be a villain next season? But I know it's probably going to be Annie

Kimiko speaking I kind of assumed would happen at some point (since they established that as kind of her arc this season with the speech therapy) but I'm excited to see if that goes anywhere next season. I think best case scenario, she has selective mutism and only goes verbal sometimes. They've been pretty good about her disability so far

also speaking of, I've been trying to figure out what her sign for each of The Boys' names are and. is Hughie's supposed to look like someone running away because that's so funny if true (it's hard to tell because the captions are obviously not synced up with the visuals on her signing)

My overall thoughts are kinda... eh. This season ultimately felt directionless to me, too many plotlines trying to happen all at once and while I think individual episodes were really good, as a whole nothing felt super connected (I mean, in episode 6 Hughie was super fucked up over his dad's death and presumably what happened at Tek Knight's party, but episode 7 they just seem to have completely forgotten that he's having an active mental breakdown, a trend that continues into episode 8. And that's just one example from this season). I also think they fumbled the supes' plotline at the very end. I trusted the writers that they actually knew what Sage's plan was, but it mostly just seems like she swooped in at the end to tell us her plan worked, without saying what it actually was. I was hoping there was going to be actual clever writing there, but I guess it's hard to write the world's smartest character if she's only as smart as the writer's room can be.

I understand that, ultimately, it's incredibly difficult to write satisfying arcs with very limited time (this is an issue of streaming in general, not specifically an issue with The Boys), so I don't really fault them for that. I just hope next season is more focused.

The biggest problem with season 3 is, obviously, Hughie getting sexually assaulted three times in 3 back-to-back episodes, with zero acknowledgement (and on one occasion, implied mockery) from the show itself or anyone involved. I REALLY hope they take the criticism and actually make something of it next season, or at least acknowledge that it was fucked up.

Anyway, not a terrible season, but it had a lot of glaring issues. I'm holding out hope for season 5 being good, but it'll be another year or two before we get it anyway, so...

[momotonescreaming]

This just a short Scott Clarke/Wayne Munson thing inspired by the writings of @unclewaynemunson and @flowercrowngods because this little ship has me in a choke hold. (2.2k)

“So, how was the date Pops?” Eddie asks, before Wayne even has a chance to close the front door. He’s lounging on the couch in an old pair of sweats and a - slightly too big for him - Hawkins High Swim Team hoodie, arm outstretched with remote in hand so he can turn down the volume of whatever show he was watching. Waiting for Wayne to come home, no doubt. Like a stray cat waiting for scraps to be thrown his way.

Wayne just sighed, making sure the door locked behind him as he stepped into the trailer. “You know it ain’t like that.”

He threw his keys next to Eddie’s on the small side table next to the door - the wobbly one that they balanced out with a wad of cardboard crammed under one leg - and removed his jacket to hang on the peg that hung above it.

Wayne didn’t say anything, and neither did Eddie, still laying on the couch and looking at him with a glint in his eye. He wasn’t going to let this go - Wayne knew exactly what his nephew looked like when he set his mind on something. Only normally it was a new DnD campaign, lyrics he was working on, that puppet song he was determined to learn to play - not his Uncle’s love life.

Sighing again, he took his time slowly toeing off his boots, pushing them to line the walls with Eddie’s sneakers.

“It weren’t a date, Eddie.” Wayne adds, breaking the silence under Eddie’s heavy gaze.

“But you’d like it to be.”

Neither Eddie or Wayne say anything. They both know the answer to that question is yes. He wasn’t trying to hide it from Eddie, but he wasn’t planning on shouting it from the rooftops either. They were just too good at picking apart each other’s moods, seeing past expressions, and pulling at words left unsaid. They were family and knew each other like no one else. So Eddie knew Wayne was growing mighty fond of his new friend Scott Clarke - the same way he knew when Eddie finally made a boyfriend of Steve Harrington - all without ever saying those words.

The Munson men were smitten.

He made his way to the kitchen, now socked feet cool on the linoleum floor as he opened the fridge. Wayne welcomed the brief shock of cold fridge air as he pulled out a couple of beers. As he returned to the living room, Eddie was uprighting himself into a sitting position - one leg tucked underneath him on the couch, the other brushing the floor. Wayne handed him one of the beers as he passed, before settling into his own armchair.

“So,” Eddie started, dragging out the sound. “How was your not-date?”

Wayne gave him a look before responding, cracking open his beer. “It was fine.”

It was a lot more than just fine, spending time with Scott, but Wayne wasn’t going to give Eddie the satisfaction of caving that early. They always did this song and dance, Eddie asking him about his time spent with Scott, not so subtly gathering information and prying for details.

“Come on Wayne!” Eddie exclaimed, gesturing with his beer bottle. “You gotta give me more than that.”

“I don’t ‘gotta’ give you anything,” Wayne replied, taking a sip of his thankfully cold beer.

“Wayne,” Eddie whined, melting down further into the couch cushions - absent mindedly making sure his beer bottle remained upright. “You’re no fun.”

“I just ain’t gossiping about a perfectly normal evenin’.”

“Can you tell me what you did at least?” Eddie said, only sort of begging and taking a swig of his own beer. “Set the scene. Walk me through it. Let your poor worried nephew know where you were all night.”

Wayne gave Eddie a look. He had heard Eddie call it his Dad Look once when Wayne was out of the room and he thought he was too far away to hear it. Wayne ended up standing outside the door, eyes misty, pretending it didn’t mean as much as it did. He may not be his father but Eddie was his boy.

They had leaned into it more, ever since the hospital, ever since they almost lost each other. He’d call Eddie Son, and in return Eddie would smile and call him Pops. They hadn’t talked about the dad thing yet. Wayne didn’t want to push, to take too much. He was willing to wait and take Eddie’s lead.

“You ain’t guilt tripping me when we both already know I’m home safe.”

“What if I guilt tripped you by mentioning how I’m a poor gay kid needing an older gay man as a role model to help me grow and develop and shit?” Eddie said with a shit eating grin. “Would that help you spill the beans?”

“Considerin’ you got a boyfriend all on your own,” Wayne started, gesturing to Steve’s hoodie that Eddie was wearing. The sleeves were starting to fray where Eddie had picked at the threads, but Steve liked it on Eddie too much to complain. “I’d say you’re doin’ just fine.”

"Well, what if I said I wanted to bond with my uncle whom I love so much?” Eddie said, a layer of sincerity coating his words as he leaned on the arm of the couch and looked over at his uncle with those wide eyes of his. Wayne looked back at Eddie, his gaze softening.

“Then I’d say me and Scott went bowling,” Wayne said, knowing he was going to give in to Eddie eventually.

As much as Eddie loved to joke and tease and play up the dramatics, he could tell this meant a lot to his boy. Knowing their trailer was a safe space where he could talk about boys - and he would encourage Wayne to talk about boys in kind. Knowing that they loved each other, and knowing that they wanted the other to be happy.

And Wayne is happy. His boy is alive, his boy is happy, and he’s met someone he likes spending time with.  And if all they ever are is friends - then he’ll be content with that. It’s safer to not want things too much when you’re a man like Wayne. When you’re poor. When you’re old. When you’re gay.

You take what you’re given and want for nothing.

Eddie didn’t subscribe to that train of thought. He was passion, and ambition, and wanting. He kept calling himself a coward but Wayne thought he was the bravest boy Wayne had ever met. He could list the reasons until the cows came home. Being himself in a world where that wasn’t encouraged. Standing up for the freaks and geeks at his own personal risk. Failing senior year twice and still going back because he was determined to graduate. Having a steady boyfriend in a small hateful town like Hawkins.

And then there was spring break. The week that almost took his boy from him.

But it was also the week that bought him back.

He wasn’t thankful for spring break, how could he, when Eddie was almost strung up for a murder he didn’t commit. When Wayne had to come home to his front door open and a broken cheerleader laying there on the floor.

But he had to look on the positive side of things or he’d go mad. He knew that about himself now. So he got to thinking. Eddie was home, he was safe, he was more sure of himself in a way he hadn’t been before. And Wayne had met Scott Clarke. As friends- or something adjacent. Not as parent and teacher.

Scott saw the news and saw a man in need of comfort, a companion. Not a man who’s son was a Satan worshipping murder. Not some trailer trash Hick with bad luck. So when the men from the plant looked at him with pity, when housewives gossiped as he passed them in the supermarket, when those fancy suit types took over his trailer while his neighbours looked through their windows - Scott asked Wayne how he was holding up. Offered him kind words and a warm presence. A casserole.

Eddie would say it was like him and Steve. Going through something traumatic together and coming out closer than you could have imagined otherwise. (Steve would say he’d like to think they’d be this close even without the week from Hell. They’d make it.)

Wayne was content to have a friend, after it all. Scott had held him when he cried, had hugged him when he heard Eddie was alive and safe, and then neither men were content to leave the other’s company now that they had it. They’d meet up for a coffee one morning, or a beer in the evening, and Wayne never complained that it messed up his sleep schedule working nights. Scott would invite him and Eddie over for a home made dinner (nothing fancy, he’d claim) and Wayne would politely decline until the desire to see the other man again won out.

And now they went out and did one of the only things there is to do in Hawkins - they went bowling. And Wayne wasn’t too shabby at it, if he said so himself. (Eddie would say he was fucking amazing at it, but that might have been because the boy was absolutely terrible.)

“You and Scott, huh?” Eddie teased, waggling his eyebrows and pursing his lips in a barely contained smile. “Already on a first name basis?”

Wayne looked at him with a half-hearted glare. “You don’t go bowling with a man, then turn around and call him ‘Mr Clarke’, Eddie.”

It was nice, bowling with Scott. They finally had an evening where Wayne didn’t have a shift at the plant, and Scott didn’t have any urgent papers to grade or after school activities to supervise. It had taken some scheduling, but both men were determined to make it work. (Wayne tried not to read into that too much, Scott making time for him).

Wayne had shown up too early (perhaps too nervous, perhaps too eager) and had resigned himself to lighting up a cigarette while he waited - awkwardly leaning against the worn paint of his truck while he waited for the other man. Only to shortly find Scott pulling into the parking lot - also awkwardly early. He tried not to read into that either.

“I don’t know, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie singsonged. “Seems awful familiar.”

“You’re just saying that because he was your teacher,” Wayne retorted, tone light.

Eddie relented. “Yeah probably. I called him Scott in class once you know?”

Wayne hummed in acknowledgement.

“It felt so weird, but it got a laugh from the class, which was the goal.” Eddie said. “He retaliated and called me Edward for the rest of the lesson. I thought it was funny.”

Eddie looked over at him, head tilted, eyes thoughtful. Peering through Wayne’s uncomfortable silence. He spoke, quieter this time. “It would be alright if you did like him, you know.”

Wayne dipped his head, taking a sip of his beer to avoid talking. It wasn’t always easy talking about these things. Even with Eddie, in the privacy of their own trailer. The weight of his words hanging over his head if he even thought about admitting liking men the way he did. He doesn’t want to risk anything going wrong. Not when he’s got Eddie. Not when he almost lost Eddie.

It was one thing to feel his stomach flutter, his heart clench when he saw him - it was another to admit out loud that Scott had him feeling all kinds of giddy. It was like he was a teen again, waiting for his crush to lock eyes with him across the classroom. Eager and nervous and keeping it all locked up inside.

So Wayne looked at Eddie, voice quiet. “Thank you, son”

If Eddie noticed that Wayne carefully didn’t admit to anything, he didn’t say a word.

“I Just want you to be happy, Wayne.” Eddie said, propping his chin in his hand.

“I know.” Wayne replies, fondly looking over at Eddie. “Who knew my boy was such a romantic under all that bluster.”

“What can I say,” Eddie says with a smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Steve brings it out in me. He bought me a bouquet of roses one time and it was like, the romantic floodgates opened.”

Wayne snorted into his beer bottle, watching as Eddie waved his hands around as he talked.

“Seriously!” Eddie exclaimed. “He’s a total romantic and keeps like, reserving new movies that come through the store he thinks I’ll like, just for me. He made me a whole candlelit dinner once, suit and everything - because we can’t exactly go out to Enzo’s for it you know? Picnic’s by the lake and shit. And I thought that stuff was all cliché, and fads and crap - but now that I have Steve? I dream of kissing him under the moonlight and listen to his favourite bands just so I can surprise him.”

“I just love him a whole lot Wayne. I want that for you too.” Eddie said as put down his beer and flopped down onto the couch once more, hair falling into his face. “Like, if I can wind up with Steve Harrington, then you can win over my Middle School science teacher. With your southern charm and sick bowling skills.”

Wayne stuck one foot out and gently kicked at the side of the couch - jostling Eddie, who giggled. “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Pops.”

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 12)

Summary: Timothée spends Christmas with you and your family. A happier chapter than the last two.

C/W: Brief mention of parent's death

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Both you and your mother insisted that Timothée come over and spend the night on Christmas Eve so he would not wake up alone Christmas Day. It had only been three weeks since his father passed, and you knew the holiday was going to be hard for him.

Timothée showed up as you and Madison were making cookies in the kitchen. Long past the days of knocking, he let himself in. "Where are my favorite girls?" he called out in a sing-song voice as he made his way through the house. "Aha! Found you!" he shouted when he popped his head into the doorway, sending Madison into a fit of giggles.

He gave her a side hug and a kiss on the top of her head, then walked around to your side of the island counter. "You, uh, got a little something right...there," he said as he swiped the dot of flour on your nose with his index finger.

"Oh yeah?" You grabbed his face with your flour-coated hands and pulled him in for a kiss. "You have something - there," you snickered as you gestured to his entire face. Madison's laughter continued to fill the air.

"And what are you laughing at, missy?" You turned to her. "Seems like you are the only one with no flour on them. I think we should fix that, Timmy."

Timothée grinned ear to ear. "Seems only fair." You each grabbed a handful of flour and playfully stalked toward her. It turned into a messy game of tag as you all chased each other around the kitchen island.

You skidded to a stop when you spotted your mother standing in the kitchen doorway. She stood with her hands on her hips, just shaking her head.

"Oh, uh, hey Mom."

"We'll get this cleaned up, Mrs. [Y/N]," Timothée added, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Where's the fun in that?" She quick-stepped to the flour jar to grab a handful herself and dumped it on your head.

Madison gasped, "Nana!"

"What? She was the cleanest of all of you. Figured she needed to be brought down a peg or two." She looked at you and winked.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "By that logic, you're next!" You and your mom stalked each other around the island until until you caught her in a big hug and patted flour all over her back. You both could barely breathe from laughing so hard. The two of you had gotten much closer since you moved back in, and after Timothée lost his dad, you were determined to make the most of the time you had left with your parents.

<><><><><>

After you got yourselves and the kitchen cleaned up, it was time for Madison to get ready for bed. She came prancing out of her room in her footie pajamas to give goodnight hugs to her grandparents. She stopped at Timothée.

"Will you be here in the morning?" she asked.

"Of course! There's no place I'd rather be."

The girl smiled. "Good." She hugged him and headed toward her room. You started to follow when she turned back. "Can Timothée come, too?"

You looked at him and shrugged. "If he wants to." You held out your hand to help him up from the couch, knowing he wouldn't turn her down. He was wrapped around her little finger.

The two of you followed Madison to her room and flanked each side of her bed. You tucked her in as Timothée sat on the edge of the bed. She held out her arms for one more hug from each of you, to which you gladly obliged.

"Now, you better go to sleep or Santa won't bring your presents," Timothée said cheekily.

"Silly. Santa's not real," she stated.

He faked a gasp and pulled a horrified face. "He's not?! Hmm, I guess that means I can have the cookies you left out for him."

Her hand shot out from under the covers. "NO! No. Please don't, just in case I'm wrong."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought," he said as he booped her nose. "Good night, kiddo." He leaned down for one more hug, then stepped out of the room. You kissed her forehead, turned off her lamp, and followed suit.

You spotted Timothée at the end of the hallway where apparently your mother had sneakily hung some mistletoe while the two of you were occupied. He pointed upward and smiled at you. "Join me under the mistletoe?" You sauntered up to him, not expecting him to spin and dip you before kissing you yearningly. "Our first Christmas together. Again."

"Merry Christmas, love," you replied as he stood you upright again and nuzzled his nose against yours.

<><><><><>

The next morning, Timothée sat next to you on the floor by the couch, coffee in hand, taking in the scene as Madison dove into her stocking and the first of her presents. He leaned over and whispered to you, "I never quite understood why my parents got so excited about Christmas morning, even more excited than me, until now. All that joy on her little face. It's addicting." You squeezed his hand and leaned your head on his shoulder.

After a bit, once everyone had opened at least one gift, Timothée brought out a package that he had been hiding behind the couch and set it in front of the girl. "Don't try to pick it up. It's heavy. This one...," he paused to clear his throat, "is from my dad." She looked at him, then you, puzzled. "He was going through some boxes in the shed a couple of months ago and came across something of mine from when I was a boy that he thought you might like to have. He...he asked me to set it aside for Christmas."

Madison gingerly opened the wrapping paper to find a round brown leather bag.

"Go on, unzip it," Timothée encouraged her. She slowly unzipped the bag to reveal a blue bowling ball. "You'll need to grow into it a little, but it's yours if you want it."

Madison's lip wobbled as she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "This...this is perfect." She launched herself into Timothée's lap for a hug. When she pulled away, her face lit up as she looked at you. "Mom, help me find my present for Timothée! Please!"

"That's okay, kiddo, it can wait until we get down to it."

"No, it can't. You'll see." You and she dug through the piles of presents until she spotted what she was looking for - a rectangular present haphazardly wrapped in shiny blue paper and three different colored bows on top.

"I wrapped it myself," she said proudly.

Timothée carefully slid his finger under an edge of the paper in an effort not to rip it. Once he opened one side, he gently slid the gift out. It was a picture of him and Madison together at the bowling alley in a frame that she decorated herself. On the back was a short, handwritten note:

Dear Timothée,

I'm glad we found you at the grocery store. Merry Christmas!

Love, Maddy

Timothée wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I love it, and I love you, too, kiddo." He pulled her in for a hug and buried his nose in her hair. "So, so much."

<><><><><>

Chapter 13

FYI: I am expecting for Chapter 13 to be the last one.

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @groovyqueer

[restwellsoon]

Ok ok ok…can we please get daydreams with Dick Grayson and daddy kink, make it spicy.

Also congratulations on all those milestones!! I hope you're celebrating them!

Thank you!

Minors & ageless blogs DNI!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

Tw: smut, daddy kink

"I guess I never pegged you as the mom friend," you admitted, legs crossed over Dick's as you laid in his bed. Work clothes were abandoned for the comfort of underwear and baggy shirts.

His hand covered your thigh, absently trailing up and down as his eyes stayed fixed on the television set- some Planet Earth type of show, his pick of course. "Well, that's your problem, babe. For starters, you've never pegged me to begin with-"

He didn't get much further than that before your giggles cut in. It was amazing how he could make his quips with the straightest of faces.

As your laughter settled down, you told him, "Keep up the dad jokes and maybe I'll take back what I said."

"Oh yeah?" It was the drop in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. "There's more direct ways to call me daddy, ya know."

That hand trailed upward towards your waistband, pausing for a moment until you gave him a look of impatience.

They slid off along with your shirt, along with his, then his boxers too.

"And what are they?"

His body pressed into yours, hardness teasing that space between your legs. He did that forearm thing that you loved-face hovering over yours as his arms and core bore the weight. It was the perfect angle to see Dick flex and get enough of his heat to rile you up. You shifted beneath him in anticipation.

His bangs tickled your skin as he whispered, "The easiest way would be to force it out of you." His lips nipped at your neck as if he could draw that name from your throat. "To make you repeat after me exactly what I want you to say. Daddy should always get what he wants, shouldn't he?"

It didn't take much for you to agree with him as his hands wandered your body, his cock grinding slowly against you as a trail of precum built up wherever you touched.

"But the easy way isn't always that best way." Easy or best didn't matter as long as you had him, but Dick always had a way of adding a touch of romance and desire during your encounters.

Your lips pressed against each other as tongue explored tongue for a moment, the bumping and grinding of your sex making your head full of lust and frustration. He was doing it on purpose-this you knew-as the tip of his cock teased your entrance, pressing deep enough to spread you apart but never enough to truly enter.

You separated with a string of saliva to connect you, and he cut it off, letting it pool slightly at the corner of your mouth before deciding to wipe it off completely. Playfully, you licked his thumb before he pressed that and another finger into your mouth, watching as you sucked them greedily.

With a pop, he let them trail down your torso, ignoring your needy whines. "No, the easy way isn't the most satisfying way either," and you ventured to ask what was then.

"When it's unintentional," his tone was more matter-of-fact. He grinned as you uttered an unexpected 'fuck' as he fingered your hole, going knuckle-deep with one and pumping. You still had too much control if that was all you had to say.

"When the sex is so good, you're begging for it." He added another finger.

"When you're begging for me."

"Dick, please."

His smile was intentionally cruel. "You'll get it soon enough, babe, if you call me the right name."

"Daddy, please."

"There you go," he said with satisfaction, fingers pressing that spot that would push you over the edge.

Your hole wrapped tight around him. He couldn't wait to feel it against his cock.

"Sometimes the decision's simply- easy does it, especially when you're between a cock and a hard place."

A/N: We need less wordplay and more foreplay from Dickie, amirite? 10/10 would still hit it despite the puns though.

A Token of Sleep | event / Dick Grayson's Masterlist / Rest's Main M.list

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 8

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: The group collectively begins the search for Sophia, finding themselves scattered. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; lost little girl, discussion of weapons and guns, children being hurt, suggestions of religious turmoil/questioning (christianity)

Chapter 8 - Manhunt

Bright and early, Rick unrolled a pack of knives across the hood of an abandoned car toward the edge of the woods.

“Everybody takes a weapon.”

“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?” Andrea scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. Iris whisked her knives out of her sheaths, flashing them at her.

“Maybe they’re the kind of weapon you can’t handle.” She challenged. Andrea didn’t know how to shoot to save her life, and she needed to be taken down a few pegs.

“We’ve been over the guns.” Shane called, not bothering to look up. “Daryl, Rick, Iris and I are carrying. We can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles.” Iris smirked.

“It’s not the trees I’m worried about. She gets a gun and I don’t?” Andrea huffed, looking Iris up and down. Iris raised an eyebrow.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been carrying a gun since I was Carl’s age. Are you sure you know what kind of tree you’re barking up?” Iris asked. Andrea rolled her eyes, but shut her mouth.

“Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it’s game over for all of us. So you need to get over it.”

“The idea is to take the creek up about five miles,” Daryl explained, deftly changing the subject. “Turn around, come back down the other side. Chances are, she’ll be by the creek. It’s her only landmark.”

“Stay quiet and stay sharp. Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other.” Rick instructed.

“Everybody assemble your packs.” Shane added.

“Dale, you keep on those repairs. We’ve gotta get this RV ready to move.” Rick instructed. Dale nodded, pulling himself to his feet.

“We won’t stay here a minute longer than we have to.” He agreed. “Good luck out there. Bring Sophia back.”

“Keep an eye on Carl while we’re gone?”

“I’m going with you.” Carl interrupted. Rick sighed. “You need people, right? To cover as much ground as possible.” Rick turned to Lori and she shrugged.

“Your call, I can’t always be the bad guy.” She stated.

“I can walk with Carl. We’ll stay safe.” Iris offered. It wasn’t often she felt an overwhelming urge to babysit, but if she could teach the kid a thing or two, he might grow up to be a real survivor. Rick looked between his son and Iris before nodding slowly.

“Okay. Okay. You stay with Iris, you hear me? Within sight, no exceptions.” Carl nodded eagerly, grinning up at Iris. She winked at him. Lori was watching the exchange with an unreadable expression. Whatever her feelings toward Iris, she could shove ‘em.

“C’mon, cowboy.” She said with a small smile, jerking her chin toward the forest. Everyone moved out, trailing after one another into the bush as Daryl led the way. Carl fell back a little to show Shane the knife Rick had given him.

“Shane, look! Dad said I could carry it and Mom said as long as I was—“

“Keep it down. We’re looking for Sophia.” Shane hissed. “You need to focus on the task.” Iris glared at Shane over her shoulder, waving Carl forward. 

“It’s a pretty cool knife, Carl.” She said, flashing him a smile. “Maybe one day your dad will let me teach you to throw ‘em.” 

“Will you teach me how to shoot a gun?” He asked. Iris shook her head. “But why? You said you carried a gun when you were my age—“

“That should be something your dad does, when he decides the time is right. Just like mine did.” Iris explained slowly. “I carried a gun before all this, Carl. I carried it to protect myself against people. Not walkers. There’s a big difference, and it’s not my place to decide if and when you learn to shoot or why. It’s your parents’ job.” He fell silent, but nodded in understanding. She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m happy to teach you a few pointers about the knife, though.” He grinned.

The group slowed as Daryl pointed out a tent a little ways ahead of them. Carol almost bolted toward it, but Rick kept her back.

“She could be in there.” Shane whispered.

“Could be a whole bunch of things in there.” Daryl replied. He moved forward alone, crossbow in hand, Rick and Shane following as they surrounded the tent, just in case. Rick waved Carol forward to call out for her.

“Sophia? Sweetie, are you in there?” She called. “Sophia, it’s mommy. Sophia, we’re all here, baby, it’s mommy.” Daryl unzipped the tent slowly, the smell almost visible as it leeched out. Iris hoped Sophia wasn’t in there. They all gagged as Daryl went inside. “Daryl? Daryl?”

“It ain’t her.” He replied, coming out of the tent.

“What’s in there?” Andrea asked.

“Some guy.” He replied, shrugging. “Did what Jenner said. ‘Opted out.’ Ain’t that what he called it?” They all froze as a sound echoed from far in the distance. Bells. Church bells. They rang out through the forest from what could be miles away, but Rick pointed in a direction and they all started running.

“See this, running through the forest toward a really loud noise, is what one might consider a bad idea.” Iris whispered to Carl quietly. “Can you tell me why?”

“Noise draws walkers?” He answered.

“Gold star, kid.” She replied, nodding. They slowed in a clearing, the noise louder but harder to pinpoint.

“What direction?” Shane asked.

“I think that way, I’m pretty sure.” Rick pointed, making a face.

“Damn, it’s hard to tell out here.”

“If we hear them, maybe Sophia does too.” Carol stated.

“Someone’s ringing those bells, maybe calling others.” Glenn pointed out.

“Or signalling that they found her.” Andrea offered optimistically.

“She could be ringing them herself.” Rick suggested. “Come on.” Iris kept her thoughts inside, for Carl’s sake, but it was just as likely someone rigged them to draw walkers and anyone stupid enough to take the bait.

They emerged from the trees into a graveyard, a white church sitting pretty in the middle of the large clearing.

“That can’t be it. Got no steeple, no bells.” Shane murmured. Rick ignored him, pressing forward. “Rick…” They ran across the open graveyard toward the building.

“Bad idea number two is…” Iris whispered, waiting for Carl to finish the sentence.

“Running out in the open?” He asked, looking up at her. He tripped on the corner of a gravestone and she stopped, catching him and hauling him to his feet before he could even hit the ground.

“That and not paying attention to our surroundings.” Iris said with a smile, keeping him with the group as they kept going. 

They rounded the church, Rick going to the large red double doors at the front. He and Daryl took a side each, pushing the doors open to reveal the church. A few bodies sat in the pews, waiting, but instead of the second coming of Christ, they now waited for something living to eat. Rick reached back and Lori put a machete in his hand. Iris held up a hand, stepping to the front as she pulled her knives from her belt.

“Eyes up, boys.” She said softly. She took her time setting up each throw, her bicep flexing with the effort, but the shtk of each knife in each skull and subsequent thud as each body hit the floor came quick. The group turned to her as she marched right in, pulling her knives from each perfectly aimed eye socket. “Thanks, Ted.” She whispered, feeling their eyes on her.

“Damn.” Shane stated plainly.

“I used to play a lot of darts.” Iris said simply, shooting a wink to Carl, who was grinning ear-to-ear. She put her boot through the closest one’s skull.

“Sophia!” Rick yelled as they all filed in.

“Yo, J.C., you taking requests?” Daryl spoke to the crucified wood figure at the end of the aisle.

“I’m telling you, it’s the wrong church. It’s got no steeple, Rick. There’s no steeple.” Shane urged. The sound of the bells ringing started again, Daryl pushing his way outside. It was incredibly loud now, but they found that the speakers on the side of the church didn’t really need a steeple. Glenn ripped the wiring out, stopping the ringing. It must have been on a timer.

“I’m gonna go back in for a bit.” Carol said, going inside and taking a seat. Most of them followed suit, Andrea sitting against the wall outside. Iris paced under a tree out by the graveyard, frowning at the empty field around them. Heavy footsteps crunched on the grass and she turned to see Daryl standing there, his crossbow on his shoulder.

“You grow up in a gang or somethin’? Guns and darts?” He asked.

“Close enough. My dad was a biker, I basically grew up in a bar.” She said with a smirk. “Learned a few things.” He grunted in acknowledgement. 

“That why you’re messin’ with that biker patch all the time?” He asked. Iris nodded, pulling it out of her pocket and showing him.

“My lucky charm.” She answered simply. “You? Grow up in the woods?”

“Close enough. Mountains.” He replied simply. Iris nodded. “Driftin’, huntin’. All I’ve ever known.”

“Good to know at least someone has the skills to keep us alive out here.” She said simply, earning a small snort. He nodded anyway, and the rest of the group made their way into the shade of the huge tree. Rick and Shane shared a heated conversation a little ways away, Shane clearing his throat as he came to address them.

“Y’all gotta follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you’re in charge. Me and Rick, we’re just gonna hang back, search this area another hour or so just to be thorough.” He explained.

“You’re splitting us up. You sure?” Daryl asked. Iris turned to Carl, who was already looking up at her. She pointed at him and he pointed back.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up to you.” Shane confirmed.

“I want to stay, too. I’m her friend.” Carl said suddenly, stepping forward. Shane and Rick glanced to one another, then back to Carl. Rick sighed. 

“Iris, would you—“

“‘Course.” She replied. “Can’t abandon my partner, now, could I?” Carl smiled up at her. Iris nodded to Daryl and he led the others back toward the highway.

“Give me a minute?” Rick asked.

“Yeah.” Shane agreed. He ruffled Carl’s hair and they walked to the steps of the church to wait as Rick ducked inside. He came out a few minutes later, ruffling Carl’s hair on the way down. “Get what you needed?” Shane asked.

“Guess I’ll find out.” Rick replied. Iris breathed a chuckle as she stood, stretching her back before following after him.

He continued to lead them most of the way, holding up a hand as a branch broke in the distance. Shane pushed Carl behind the two of them as they moved forward to inspect the noise.

Iris gasped as she caught sight of the deer, pushing in front of them with a wide smile. She’d always loved them. Her favourite animal. It’s antlers still held the soft fuzz they did when they were new, rounded and soft. It moved quietly out of the brush onto the game trail right in front of them, sniffing the air. Iris turned, beckoning Carl forward with a finger. He quickly obliged, grinning as he came up beside her.

He continued and the deer watched, staring him down as he got closer and closer. There was a respectful distance between them, of course, but it was amazing to see. Something so rare. Iris turned back to see Rick watching with a grin on his face. Even Shane wore a small smile. His foot broke a small twig under his foot, the deer’s ears twitching.

Carl dared just one step closer to the deer as the shot rang out. It caught them all completely by surprise. Both Carl and the deer crumpled, hitting the ground with a thud. Blood was seeping into the cool wet earth, the bullet wound going straight through the deer’s side and through Carl. There was no exit wound.

Iris thought she heard Rick cry out, but her ears were still ringing from the shot. From shock, too. Rick fell to his knees at his son’s side, Iris and Shane immediately had their guns out.

[mangoshorthand]

Arrow of Time: Chapter 6 [Five Hargreeves/ F Reader]

(Hard Feelings Part 5)

SUMMARY: When the mother of all teenage tantrums causes time itself to fracture, Five has to travel back to 1831 to repair the damage. But will he be able to cope with what he finds there?

Chapter 7 (TBA) >> << Back to Chapter 5

At Reginald's party, Five sees and hears things he doesn't wish to.

Chapter 6: Selina

There was a moment of silence after Five disappeared where Lila, Diego, Luther and Aoife simultaneously seemed to feel that they’d seen him for the last time. 

Lila stood braced, ready to mimic whatever Five sent through the tear, still pulsating and wavering where he’d been less than a minute before. Diego held out his hand to Aoife and she took it gladly. They stood side by side, watching Lila’s look of deep concentration. Tension laid thick upon the air, settling heavily on Aoife’s chest. She could feel the eyes of Reginald’s portrait on her like a searchlight. Just like his Number Five, she had failed in her experimentations with time travel and should have been kept from messing with things she didn’t understand. One Uncle’s hand squeezing hers and the others’ reassuring looks were the only thing stopping her descending into total freakout like her Dad had last week.  

And then, Lila’s hands crackled with Five’s mimicked power. She grinned, showing all her teeth.

“There he is, just like he said he’d be! Ah, I’m starting to like that fucker!”

She absorbed and projected Five’s output in the same action: she could feel the connection across time; the link forged between them. She could feel the balance in whatever he was doing: the perfection, the peace-giving quality of it; the beauty in the numbers. It was …amazing.

“You ok, Lila?”  Luther asked, concerned by her expression,

“Yeah…it’s just…” she grunted with the intensity of the feeling, “your brother’s really giving it to me here!”

Diego would have usually have been affronted at this genre of humor from Lila concerning any of his brothers but, for Aoife’s sake, he didn’t draw attention to the double entendre. 

“If it’s not impertinent to say, this is an unusual suit. The breeches are extremely low on the waist and cut rather farther away from the leg than I’ve seen. And this coat is shorter than I’m used to: no tails whatsoever.”

Five stood on the tailor’s plinth, being measured for the new clothes by an apprentice while the tailor himself fingered his discarded jacket with a look of curiosity.

The room was lit by candlelight with the shutters drawn. Five had arrived in the tailors with only twenty minutes to spare before the business closed and had used a few choice words to one of the young men who told him that making an entire suit before the 9th would be an impossibility. When he’d offered them one hundred dollars if they could, (including supplying him with a quickly-fitted off the peg suit for daywear), they had become immediately more accommodating. 

“The stitching is extremely fine. Where did you purchase this?”

“Paris,” Five said, smiling thinly, as he lifted his arm for the tape measure, “all the men there are wearing them- strolling up and down the Seine in their low cut breeches. It’s the new fashion.”

“I should think so. There was nothing of this nature on the latest fashion plates.”

While one apprentice measured his in-seam and scribbled the result down in a notebook, another handed him a coffee.

“Thanks,” said Five, gratefully. 

“Have you given a thought to style, sir? I understand you’re attending a soiree at Le Roy Place but what will the evening include? Will there be dancing?”

“There is dancing, but I doubt I’ll be taking part. I just want to blend in: be dressed like everyone else.”

The tailor looked at him in obvious disapproval, “That seems to me like false modesty, sir, especially for one with his ear so close to the ground when it comes to Parisian fashion. Why shrink away from standing out? You’re still a young man with a handsome face and a fine person.”

“You flirt.” Five murmured into his coffee cup, unable to help himself. 

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Nothing. As long as I don’t stand out too much, I don’t care.”

The tailor strode over to the open cabinet where bolts of cloth were neatly stacked. 

“Then I’d suggest a silk coat, perhaps in the sage green? I’d consider adding black velvet to the collar-”

Five nodded slightly impatiently.

“Then, for the waistcoat, a sprigged-”

“I honestly don’t care,” Five spoke over him, “dress my ‘fine person’ however you want. As long as I look normal.”

Over the days separating his arrival from the night of the party, Five fell into a slightly frenzied routine: his days were spent pounding the pavements between where he arrived and Le Roy Place, asking after a woman of your description at every establishment he passed and scouring the streets for any sign you might have left him. With the new casual suit to wear by day, he blended in much better with the upper crust of Manhattan. Despite this, he was wary of spending too long loitering around Le Roy Place: if he knew his father, he’d spot somebody repeatedly casing the area extremely quickly.

Once, he’d taken a hired carriage out towards where the Academy would be built in several decades time. It had been a wasted afternoon; all he could do was stare at buildings that would be demolished to make way for the city block that his father would come to own most of. He’d hoped you might leave a message here but there was nothing. None of the inhabitants of the surrounding apartments could tell him anything. As little as he wanted to, he was starting to pin all his hopes of finding you on this party.

The evenings were spent filling sheets and sheets of paper with expansions on his theory, trying to decide on the best practical approach to rebalancing time. He’d been back to the alley multiple times, trying to get a feel for how the land lay. He’s verified his theory as much as possible with minor, experimental projections, but something doesn’t feel right. 

His brain niggles him about it on March 8th, when he sits with papers spread across a tavern table that could seat six. He’s considered everything from the disproval of Golbach’s conjecture on even numbers past the point of  4 × 10 18 to something as simple as performing simultaneous equations…but none of his ideas feel one hundred percent right.

On top of everything, he’s become irritable, even paranoid since arriving here. He finds himself conscious of having to exert more self control than usual not to snap at innocent people. No doubt, if you were here, you’d attribute it to the sudden lack of antidepressants in his system but he knows better: it’s entirely rational to be tense in this situation. You were always anxious about his mental health; always over-analyzing things. Apparently it’s rubbed off on him. The thought makes him roll his eyes. It’s an absurd idea: if he’s going through withdrawal then where are the physical symptoms?

When a woman saunters over to him, he’s focused on his calculations, ignoring a headache and trying to refrain from talking to himself.

“Buy me a drink, sir?”

He looks up, surprised.

“What, can’t buy your own drink?”

“I would have hoped for more gallantry from a man like you,” she remarked. He grunted and looked back down at his paper. Despite this clear rebuff, she sits down directly across from him and shifts his papers slightly.

“Perhaps I could buy myself a drink. It’s only that John behind the bar says you’ve got money to burn and you can’t blame a girl for trying her luck.”

Despite his short temper, he lets a short gust of laughter out through his nose. Her sheer cheek is charming. She’s a fairly young woman- perhaps early thirties. She’s blonde and blue eyed with hair in messy ringlets around her ears. The tavern’s inhabitants are certainly not part of the city’s upper crust and this woman is no exception: the dress she wears strikes him as rare in this era, as much in its almost candy-pink color as the way it exposes her shoulders as well as the shelf of her bosom. She has a bright green wrap, currently tied around her trim waist and her face is alight with impertinent mischief. He reaches into his pocket for coins and extracts a fifty cent piece, he hands it to her. 

“Keep the change.” 

With an approving little ‘hm!’, she trips off to the bar and he becomes again absorbed in mathematics. To him, it feels like seconds pass before she’s back sitting across from him again.

“You can call me Selina.”

“Mm-hm.” he says, disinterestedly, not looking up. 

“And what am I to call you?”

“I don’t want you to call me anything,” he says, stiffly, shifting some of his papers away from her and stacking them on top of the others.

“I needn’t know your name, I suppose. ‘Sir’ does quite well enough.”

She falls silent for a few seconds while he continues to scribble, pausing only to add ink to the steel-nibbed pen. 

“Will you be wanting company tonight sir?”

His pen pauses and he looks up, again taking in her appearance. Ah…he should have guessed. 

“Um. No, no thank you.”

“If you’re sure, sir? This is the third night you’ve been here, they say, and all alone. That should make any man eager for company.”

“I’m married,” he murmurs, mouth slightly dry. 

She lets out a trill of laughter like a tropical bird, “it’s not often a gentleman considers that a barrier!”

“Well I do,” he says, shortly, gathering his papers and standing up abruptly. “So thanks, but no thanks.”

“You a preacher?” she laughs.

“Far from it.” he says, with the ghost of an amused smile.

Well, you know where to find me if you happen to change your mind!” she calls, raising her voice ever so slightly to follow him up the stairs to his room.

At last, the evening of Reginald’s gathering arrived. He’d felt stupid almost as soon as he’d put on the party-appropriate outfit produced for him by the tailors. To be fair to that establishment, he always felt stupid in most clothes beyond his safe options. His day to day wardrobe included much more than plain suits now but it was still a long time before any new type of garment worked its way into his regular rotation. As a result, he was distinctly uncomfortable dressed up like some shitty community theater actor playing Mr Darcy.

The pants (or breeches, apparently) in a tan color sit so high on his waist that they feel only a few inches south of his nipples; the high collared shirt, cinched into place by a neckcloth, almost restricts his breathing. At least the tailcoat balances it all out and makes him look slightly less like a pigeon with severe constipation.

He arrives at almost nine, giving the party time to get into full swing before so that he can disappear more effectively into the crowd. He approaches Le Roy Place first from the front on Bleeker Street, confirming for sure which house was his father’s by candlelit windows and a flurry of carriages on the street in front. A bored-looking servant stands beside the door, clearly to check the invitations of any latecomers. His best option is to risk a blink inside and then to camouflage himself with the rest of the guests. Staying out of sight, he loops around to approach it from the back. 

From the roof of the houses behind, he can see through the lit windows into the palatial residence. His eyes come to rest on what appears to be a games room on the first floor with billiards and card tables. He watches as the room’s only two occupants, (two laughing men,) leave together, one clapping the other on the back. Not willing to miss this chance, he blinks quickly into the deserted room.

He can already hear music and excited chatter from behind the room’s door. The newspaper article had said this was a gathering for a ‘select’ group of people, but judging by the noise and the number of carriages outside, the number of people must be into the early three figures. As he adjusts the lapel of his new jacket, a group of three men enter. He reciprocates their respectful bows and busies himself about the billiard table, giving himself a moment or two to regroup: to formulate a plan.

He’s here because it feels like he should be. He’s looking for any evidence of what his Dad might be doing here in the hope it might somehow lead him to you. Now he’s here, it seems such a vague hope: a stupid idea. He’d pinned all his hopes onto something and nothing. 

“I see you come in good company tonight, eh?” says one of the men, suggestively, giving one of his companions a friendly elbow in the ribs, “while the cat’s away, the mice will play, eh?”

The large man he’s addressing chortles lasciviously. The sound catches Five’s full attention and he eyes him sidelong: he clearly doesn't fear sticking out like Five had. He’s an odd sight, looking almost exactly like an English bulldog, (his jowls sagging in an uncannily similar way), but dressed like an Indian bridegroom, draped head to toe in silks.

 “I don’t know what you mean, Smyth,” he says, ironically.

“I admire your brazenness, I must say: thinking you can pass off your cook as your cousin! It’s quite an excellent show.”

The three men laugh, not even troubling to keep their voices down.

“And I’m sure I’ve seen that dress before. Didn’t your wife wear something like it to your birthday party last year?” more chortles fill the room, “did you think we wouldn’t notice, you old cad? It’s too much!”

“Oh, don’t worry yourself on that account,” the large man rumbles, clearly setting up a punchline, “I shall be taking that dress off her before this evening is over- why do you think I intend to leave so early?”

Five had all but stopped listening. Getting into his father’s study would be the priority, but first he needs to get the lay of the house.

As he crosses to the door, and a few other men enter, one of the men seated at the card table leaned in to his companions, finally lowering his voice.

“I’d bet she gives you quite the ride, you old dog.”

“That she does, though I can assure you there’s life in this old dog yet. She might say it is I who gives her the ride.”

Closing the door behind him, Five takes a drink from a servant passing with a tray and loses himself in the crowd. The first floor seems to sit on an upper-gallery, rather like the academy.  When Five steps out of the games room, he finds himself looking down on the dancefloor below, where thirty two couples dance in eight sets of a dance he’d guess is a quadrille.

He strolls around the gallery, headed for the stairs and sipping his newly acquired wine. He hopes to be able to watch Reginald from a distance for a while, to be able to gauge a little bit about him. What age does this version appear to be? Before he risks getting caught snooping in the study, he wants to find out as much as possible by innocent means. 

As the music changes and a new dance begins, he takes a glance down at the dancefloor and sees his father leading a woman by the hand onto the floor. Bingo. 

His dad looks young, younger than Five had ever known him- their respective bodies (both contrasting wildly with what was within), have to be around the same physical age. He’s got a full head of hair and his face is unlined. 

Reginald takes the woman into a ballroom hold and they begin to dance a waltz slightly unsteady on her part. When the dancers revolve, he doubletakes, hands gripping the balustrade.

There: you’re there, dancing and talking with his father. Relief rushes through his body, you’re here: safe and sound and looking just as beautiful as ever. His gratitude that he followed his instinct in coming here is intense: he wants to blink, to tear you out of his father’s arms and kiss every inch of you he can reach.

But he can’t: he can’t risk his father seeing his powers, (or really seeing him at all) and, until the dance is over and you’re out of Reginald’s eyeline, he can’t risk you seeing him either unless you accidentally draw attention to him. Instead, he just watches, heart fluttering like a lovesick teen. You’ve clearly fallen on your feet; here among all these rich people. He needn’t have worried, it seems. What the hell are you doing, throwing yourself in his father’s way? Looking for your husband, probably. Five smiles: you’re playing with fire and he finds it hard to disapprove. 

You’re wearing a cream silk gown with elbow length puff-sleeves. His eyes are drawn instantly to your breasts, accentuated and pushed up by the empire waistline. They look as if they want to burst out of there. He finds himself trying and failing to not think about all the times he’s had the flesh of those breasts between his lips and teeth, all the times he’s pressed them together and… 

He mentally shakes himself, trying to will the blood to stop rushing between his legs. Sure, it’s been a little while since you had sex but he’s not an animal. It must have been even longer for you. The thought gives him a little flutter of pity and anticipation: you must be missing him even more intensely than he has you. At least he’s had your company for his months of celibacy. Squinting at your face, he tries to discern your expression: he’s too far away to see for sure, but if he had to judge, he’d say you seem uncomfortable. Now, all he has to do is watch and wait. 

He stands at the top of the stairs now sipping his wine contentedly. He doesn’t notice when the three men from the billiards room stroll past him, make their way down and rejoin the onlookers lining the walls. He watches until the dance is over: until his father bows and you curtsey in response. You both make your way off the dancefloor and rejoin the crowd: his father going one way, you going the other.

Trying not to draw attention to himself with his eagerness, he hurries down the stairs and in the direction you headed, uneasy that you’re no longer in his eyeline. He joins the throng and parts people easily with his determined steps. He cranes his neck over the top of many heads, trying to spot you again. It’s like you stepped off the dancefloor and just vanished. Fuck: he should have blinked. He should have screamed your name, he should have done anything to have his arms wrapped around you again, held tight against his chest where you belong.

He sees you and relief floods him again. 

The front door stands open with you clearly about to leave. A large man with an umbrella escorts you outside. By the time he’s made his way to the front door, the man is helping you into a covered carriage, placing a hand briefly on your ass under the guise of helping you inside. When Five gets to the sidewalk, the guy turns around to take a final, satisfied look back at the house.

And Five freezes. It’s the bulldog from the billiards room: the white guy dressed in traditional Indian clothing, the guy who talked about coming to the party with his cook in his wife’s dress. The cook he boasted about fucking.

His legs have stopped working. He just stands there, rain soaking his hair and new suit. As the man climbs into the carriage and it pulls away, he can’t bring himself to blink inside and beat the guy to a bloody pulp. He’s soaked after only a few seconds, wet hair sending drips rolling down his cheeks.

A feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time spreads from his anchored legs upwards, like thorny pinpricks along the long bones. It’s rage.

So when he finally re-enters the tavern, soaking wet, his eyes immediately fall upon Selina sitting at the corner table.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88, @nevillescomslut

On to Chapter 7 (TBA) >> Masterpost

[quackquackcey]

“Stiles, I was talking about the lasagna”

Fic written for @sterekweekly’s prompt ‘confess’. Rated T, 2.4k words. Tags: pining, fluff, confessions, humor, banter. Read on AO3.

Summary:

The time Stiles thought his dad could read minds and ended up confessing his inner most thoughts starring Derek—twice.~ 🐺💝

Stiles liked surprises.

In fact, he loved them.

But he didn’t know how he felt about the surprise of Derek showing up to the pack meeting looking like that.

To be fair, he should’ve been the least surprised, considering he was the one who’d gifted Derek that deep burgundy v-neck sweater for Valentine’s Day—anonymously, of course. He’d ordered it along with a fluffy blanket and chocolates and had them shipped to Derek’s flat addressed to a different name to make it seem like a misdelivered package, all to make sure Derek never figured out it was from him.

A lot of trouble for arguably nothing, but Derek of all people deserved at least a little coziness in his life. Everytime Stiles saw Derek’s apartment, he found himself bewildered by the absolute lack of comfort and homeliness and warmth, because look, having a minimalist interior design did not equate to not having any blankets or rugs anywhere.

A month had passed since then, though, without Derek wearing the sweater once or even mentioning that he’d gotten a misdelivered package in the mail. Stiles had assumed that Derek had returned it, set it aside, forgotten about it, or thrown it out—who knew—and moved on.

He hadn’t particularly expected anything to begin with.

But then Derek had walked into that pack meeting wearing the v-neck sweater that Stiles had spent a pathetic amount of time picking out, looking so unfairly stunning and for the first time, relaxed, and—

Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about the way Derek smiled at him a little on his way out when he’d commented, “Your sweater looks soft,” after both Erica and Isaac said something similar—(he figured it wouldn’t be weird of him to mention it if the others did, too.)

Even Lydia had complimented Derek with a “Not your usual style, but it’s even better. I didn’t peg you as someone with an eye for flattering colors and fits.”

So Stiles thought it’d be safe to say something.

“It’s very soft,” was Derek’s reply.

Stiles nodded. “Baby alpaca wool is supposed to be the softest.”

That was why he’d picked it, after all.

Derek just gave him an amused look in response.

He went home soon after, still thinking about Derek and that little smile and the way that sweater might as well have been tailored for him and his ripped muscles, only to find his dad waiting for him, arms crossed.

“C’mon Stiles, just confess already,” his dad said with a sigh when Stiles told him he wasn’t hiding anything. “Are we really going to play this game?”

‘Confess what?!’ Stiles wanted to scream, but then—

Oh god.

He was hiding one thing, his feelings for Derek, but there was no way that was what his dad was talking about.

Right?

…Right?

Stiles’ hands grew clammy and his dad just stood there looking profoundly stern and unbudging and oh god, he knew his dad had detective skills, but this was just freaky, because he was pretty sure he hadn’t been obvious about it, so maybe his dad could just read minds…?

His dad sighed again and tapped his foot, and Stiles cracked under the pressure.

He didn’t even know what all he babbled and rambled about, but it went something along the lines of fine, so what if he liked Derek, it wasn’t like it was ever going to happen and they were just friends, and it wasn’t weird that he’d secretly sent him a Valentine’s Day gift because that was what Valentine’s Day was for to begin with, right? And he didn’t even know Derek had opened his gift for sure until tonight when he wore that sweater, and you know what, he might be a genius because that sweater looked fucking amazing on Derek and Derek looked fucking amazing and he looked so content and relaxed and happy, and Stiles was just glad that Derek had maybe liked his gift because Derek deserved to be happy. Plus Derek had mentioned at the pack meeting that he was thinking about building himself a small house in the woods and he’d looked so soft when he said that, and of course Stiles had volunteered to help and he was happy if Derek was happy and he was fine, just fine, really—

“Stiles, I was talking about the lasagna you hid that Melissa brought over,” interrupted his dad just before he really spiraled. “Not your, uh…secret feelings.”

And Stiles just stood there slack-jawed in shocked, humiliated silence, like a moron, while his dad rubbed his temples.

Continue on AO3!

[bardengarde]

I hope you struggle with this ask game as much as I did. Love you.

BJ: 3, 20, 22

Hawkeye: 1, 2, 6, 12, 24

God Shan you said you were going easy on me then I reviewed the questions.... I wish I had an emote here for BJ's sarcastic smile. Love you too though, and augh.... *cracks knuckles* BJ Hunnicutt

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Already this isn't fair, because you know me, you know my blog title, you know my beliefs. ...The entire episode of "Hanky Panky" though. I hate that he cheated on Peg (while still recognizing the significance of it to his character arc, and the archetype he fulfills). It was a hard fall when I got to that episode for the first time. I was rooting for him, we were all rooting for him. And the fact the date the episode released on is so close to my birthday- it felt like a targeted attack.

There are maybe other things..... won't share them here though, y'all stay safe.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Assuming I'm meant to answer other than Hawkeye since they're canonically best friends, I really would have liked to see his and Klinger's friendship expand more. I love the banter they have, they seem to get along great, and even if Klinger isn't a dad in the show I feel like he has dad energy and I feel like they'd be really stoked to show each other pictures of their kids in the future and be excited for one another and the milestones their kids reach. I'll stop myself before I go too far off on the deep end with headcanons, but I think their dynamic is often fun and sweet and would love to see it explored more.

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

To be so real with you, I've not read enough fics to have a good answer for this- like down to details. I guess my thing is knowing that BJ is a very complex characters with multiple layers- I feel like I'd get annoyed if I read a fic that took a very fanon approach to BJ and made him like a malicious liar type, which I don't think he is at all. Or if he was boiled down to jealousy or anger issues. That said, I love reading a fic where someone can nail his sense of humor or puns.

Hawkeye Pierce

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Why DO I like him, honestly??? I'm rewatching the show from the beginning rn and god.... I landed on this guy??? Echoing your answer when I asked you, he's definitely very complex and I am always learning new things about him/ coming to a different understanding in my interpretation of him. I really appreciate his character arc and what Alan Alda did with his character; I appreciate his views on him as well. I'm also drawn to characters where just about everything happens to them, and god Hawkeye might have pioneered that trope /hj

I'd also argue that I like Hawkeye so much because he's so much unlike the majority of my favorite characters previously. Traditionally, I've been more drawn to serious, academic characters, or charming and romantic, or softer and gentler, or even clean-cut types, and Hawkeye is.... different, to say the least. Not to say he's not capable of some of those qualities... sometimes, but he's... just vastly different than say Aramis, Enjolras, Riza Hawkeye, Peggy Carter, Philippe (mitim), and so on, and so on...

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Hah.... This is also hard.

I like how imperfect he is. I would personally think of him as a good person (I say while wincing a bit), but I think more accurately he is a person who is trying to do his job to the best of his ability in one of the worst possible circumstances. And he tries to help people who are being mistreated along with it, and while standing up against idiocy and injustice, and being firm in his pacifism.

Despite that, he's sleazy, disrespectful, sometimes outright mean, and overall probably not someone I would want to be close friends with in real life. (At least, not at where he is in my current re-watching of the show.) He's not a 'saint in surgical garb'; he's a person. A very flawed person. And I like that. I like him. 6. What's something you have in common with this character?

I don't think I can answer this without getting too deep with it. Let's just say I like to think I'm funny sometimes.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I know none of these are new to you Shan, but you'll hear them again!!!

-I think one of Hawkeye's favorite ice cream flavors is Rum Raisin. I think he also likes splitting a banana split with someone else (as a kid- with either of his parents, does it on dates sometimes, etc)

-I'm purposefully twisting a line given in the show about him having a 'pet' stuffed owl, and saying he had a stuffed owl toy as a kid named Hooty.

-I think his favorite color is red.

-I have a very important headcanon to myself that after his mom passed away, he was given a lot of extra care and love by the moms of a few of his friends in Crabapple Cove. One would send along an extra packed lunch with their kid to make sure Hawkeye had something to eat at school. Another stopping him to fix where his hair looked a mess and straighten his shirt for him. And so, so many hugs and endearments. None of this was done because they thought that Daniel Pierce was neglectful or couldn't take care of Hawkeye, but because Daniel was grieving as well and they wanted to help where they could and ease some of the load off Daniel's shoulders with not only him becoming Hawkeye's sole guardian, but also while still being the towns doctor as well- while he's trying to pick up the pieces and get back on his feet.

I like to think even as an adult when Hawkeye sees one of his friends mom's who had helped taken care of him, he still runs up to them and gives them a big hug. :,)

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

Hehe, there's the rub because I don't know if I have one. Mayyyybe Grantaire since I have Les Mis on the mind today, but not reallyyyyy. No offense to Grantaire but Hawkeye is a lot more competent and cares a lot more about things. But drunk, comical, not straight, in love with a blond- that checks out.