#im not judging you im jus saying

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[2knightt]

if you havent already, request for the outsiders boys with a super sweet sunshine s/o?

↳i love you, so let me get to you!₊˚✧

──IN WHICH, the gang dates a happy go-lucky reader!。✦

||✰ — the gang, separately

Johnny Cade ;

your kindness probably frightened him at first, he wasn’t used to anyone as nice as you.

but when he gets to know you are—he can’t get enough.

your happiness probably rubs off on him.

johnny’s smiling more, opening doors for people, and has a little spring in his step.

the gang definitely knows about you and teases johnny about it.

“you gotta stop hangin’ ‘round y/n. you’re starting to get their smile.”

“yeah, johnnycakes. i swear—i ain’t never seen you this happy.”

“get used to it, i dunno.”

you refuse to see the bad in people, and honestly johnny kinda likes that mindset.

but he doesn’t at the same time.

he knows people in the world suck, he knows how cruel it can be—but with you by his side, you make it bearable.

you make him feel actual hope that he can get out of this place.

make him feel like he has a future.

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“..everything, y/n.”

Dallas Winston ;

opposites attract dare i say?

i can see you calming dallas down, just a bit though.

not too much. just a lot.

he stops beating up people for no reason, yelling so much, and even helps a few old ladies cross the street.

only when people aren’t look though. this is still dallas.

“jus’ get outta ‘ere, punk!”

“aw, dallas! you let ‘em go! ‘m so proud.”

“whatever.”

he mumbles, snaking an arm around your waist with his other hand stuffed in his pocket.

the gang was so fucking shocked when they found out you two were dating.

“…for real?”

“you ain’t pulling our legs, are ya?”

“no? what the hell would make you guys think that?”

“they’re sweet while you’re—you.”

“fuck’s that ‘posed mean?”

“nothing.”

i feel like a lot of people would judge you for being so happy, especially with the situation with soc’s and greasers.

but dally shuts them up real fast.

“they gotta be on drugs. no way someone can be that happ—“

“who? who’s on drugs? c’mon, you can tell me.”

“uh—no one, dallas.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

punches them anyways.

but i don’t want you to scroll with a bad taste in your mouth.

just know, you’re the only relationship dally has been serious about in a long time.

a very, long time. so—he loves you to death.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

admired you somewhat.

he loves the aura that surrounds you. he thinks it’s different—way different than what he’s used too.

he’s used to people beating others, spitting on people, mocking, teasing.

but you?

you go out of your way to help those who were pushed down, bullied, spit on.

he admired that. he admired you.

he loved that about you.

tries to pick up your habits—but ends up failing.

“pony, when’d you become so…happy go-lucky, huh?”

“is it bothering you?”

“a little.”

“…fuck you too then.”

i feel like he’d look for a partner like that.

his type??? possibly???

you just,

give him hope.

hope that he can leave tusla and live the life he wanted on the country side.

Sodapop Curtis ;

same thing, different font.

you two get along so well it’s sickening.

when the two of you walk in a room together you blind everyone with how bright the both of you are.

im not joking.

“did he really, soda?”

“yeah! can you believ—“

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“what?”

“get out.”

“WHY?!”

“what?!”

“y’all are ruining my bad mood. screw off.”

“is he always like this?”

“yeah. just ignore two-bit.”

takes after you a lot.

like a lot.

started fighting less, helping out more costumers at the DX, etc.

he loves talking about you.

he just

does.

you’re all he talks about. i’d know, cause i’m literally writing this rn.

Darry Curtis ;

THIS DYNAMIC IS SO CUTE OH MY GOD.

cold, closed off darry with a cute, kind and sweet reader.

i’m crying just thinking about it.

you force him to open him to others.

literally.

“how’s your day, darry?”

“okay.”

“just okay? didn’t something happen at work today?”

“well yeah.”

“then tell, em! he’s your brother, babe.”

people always chuckle, seeing you cling to his arm—all smiles while he sits, looking like a guard dog.

but as soon as darry glares at them—they stop laughing.

everyone calls you sunshine after darry mockingly called you that. sorry i don’t make the rules :/ (yes i do.)

“hey, sunshine!”

“oh—hey, dal!”

“don’t call them that.”

“why not, superman?”

“because.”

Steve Randle ;

Guard dog 2.0

you gotta hold him back all the time help.

“steve! you know violence isn’t good—i hate it!”

“LEMME AT ‘EM, BABE! C’MON!!”

isn’t also—not used to people being so nice to him.

so you being so affectionate, looking out for him, loving him—just being so nice to him in general is so..shocking.

“you did so good today, love. ‘m so proud.”

“what?”

“oh? did you not hear me?”

“no—i did. it was just, outta nowhere. kinda spooked me a lil.”

please just love him.

please. he needs it.

he needs someone like you in his life and he’s so glad you are in his life.

he would’ve lost his mind a long time ago if you weren’t.

Two-bit Matthews ;

YALL ARE SO CUTE.

silly goofy guy with a sweet loving partner.

you let him ramble about anything and everything. he couldn’t be more happy.

“and they dance, like all the time!”

“even the dog?”

“EVEN THE DOG! he got his own moves, y/n!”

brags about dating the kindest person in Tulsa 24/7.

like, actually.

if you don’t like his drinking cause you know it’s slowly killing him, he’ll slow down on it.

“two, you know i don’t like you drinkin’ this stuff!”

“i know. but it’ll be my last one tonight, promise.”

“better be, ‘m worried for you.”

you’re like all he talks about.

he’s just so blessed to have an angel in his life!

like, what’d a guy like him do to get a person like you? save a country?

[elvisabutler]

you know how kids are supposed to be good judges of character? i was wondering if you could do elvis x reader where their kids don't like mommy and daddy's manager?

children 'n dogs

summary: your children with elvis never have been a big fan of the colonel and neither have you even if elvis is. but as you and elvis like to say: "children 'n dogs, best judges of character." fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: t pairing: elvis presley x female reader ( or austin elvis x female reader ) word count: 1854 warnings: talk of children being absolute menaces. a married couple being very much a married couple. pregnancy. the colonel being the colonel. brief mentions of period typical and culturally typical opinions on child rearing re: discipline and spanking. calling elvis a backwater hick. brief brief mention of vomit. i think that should be everything. author’s note: so hi anon thank you for this prompt, this was actually a really sweet one and i kind of fell in love with it but wasn't too sure how to start it- plus the fun tired exhaustion i've been dealing with. i set this as a sort of continuation of my queen of graceland fic ( that i wrote for specifically austin elvis ), you don't have to read that one, just know it basically has elvis and the reader getting together right before he gets shipped off to germany, and they have a set of twin girls right about that time and i implied they were going to have plenty more kids after those two. read this with austin elvis or elvis in mind, i am not picky, since i left it faintly nebulous.

"Whaddya mean Jess spit on 'im? Damn boy is 6 years old, he knows better." Elvis asks as you start to take down your hair for the night, wincing at one of the pins digging deeper into your hair. "Christ, mama, let me get those ones in the back, ya know ya can't get at 'em."

You roll your eyes but remove your hands only to have your husband's warm hands replace them, finding the pins in your hair with an ease you envy. "I meant exactly what I said, sweetheart. Jesse spit on the Colonel in the five minutes I looked away while tryin' to make sure Loretta and Elizabeth were all ready to go. They all know I'm not movin' all that fast right now." Your hand moves to rub at your bump, an act that has Elvis letting out a heavy sigh above your head, one of his own hands following downward and pressing against it, earning a powerful kick.

"That's what I get for putting another set of 'em in ya, isn't it? My Queen of Graceland too big to be chasin' after my lil' hellion of a boy." He moves his hand off of your stomach, only to watch another kick happen with a chuckle as he busies himself with your hair. "Colonel seemed madder than just a lil spit. Gettin' the feelin' there's more."

There is a moment when you contemplate not telling him the rest, not telling him how your oldest daughters had lost their tempers once you got them over to where their siblings were and how the other two boys promptly followed their older brother and hit the Colonel and how your youngest daughter, your sweet 18 month old daughter had thrown up on the Colonel's shoes. You contemplate all of this only to look up at your husband and realize he's waiting, mid trying to take out a pin. "Everyone might have- well- everyone might have had their own things they wanted to do t'him."

Now you're no stranger to trying to smooth over things your children have done to Elvis, no stranger to making it seem as if your children are far more innocent than they actually are. But in being married to you and in knowing your children together from the day they were born he knows when you're doing it. He knows exactly when you're trying to gloss over things and make them look presentable. He leans down and places a kiss to the top of your forehead. "Darlin'. I ain't gonna be mad at 'em. Or maybe jus' a lil, but ya gotta tell me what they did so I can apologize."

You hum and purse your lips as you move to grab a brush to brush out your hair. "Oh, I don't think any of 'em want you to apologize for what they did. They know very well what they did was wrong." A pause and you shake your head. "Loretta and Elizabeth kicked him in the shin and stepped on his foot. While tellin' him to stop bein' angry at Jesse for spittin' and Anthony and Aaron for tryin' to bite and hit 'im."

The two warring emotions that filter across Elvis's face show just how much of a child he can be even as he's a parent to six kids- eight if he counted the ones inside you. He wants to laugh at the sheer chaos the scene brings to mind but at the same time he knows that he should frown upon everything, that you expect him to be able to discipline them a little but at the same time he looks in your eyes and doesn't see a hint of anger. At the children or him. He raises an eyebrow. "And the vomit on the shoe?"

"Rebecca's lunch." The most simple answer as he pulls out the final pins that you couldn't properly see to pull out. "That one i wasn't expectin' in the slightest. Don't know if it was her tryin' to follow her sibling's leads or jus' an upset stomach. But- she hasn't done it since then."

Meaning it likely was her trying to get in on the action. Elvis sighs, sitting on the chest at the bottom of the bed. "Goddamn, darlin'- Our kids did all o' that to him? Our well behaved kids? The ones who know their manners 'n-"

You hold up a hand waving it for him as a signal to stop talking. "Our kids who know their manners 'cause they know I'd have their hides if they didn't. Yes, those kids. Those kids also hate the Colonel 'bout as much as I do-"

It's Elvis's turn to cut you off, standing up only to kneel down in front of you, taking the brush out of your hands so that he can hold them in his own. So he can envelop them in his own and make you focus on his face as he talks. "I know- I know the two of ya haven't ever gotten along but he's why we have all o'this. Wouldn't have gotten so big and wouldn't be in these pictures if it wasn't for 'im."

There is a part of you, a tiny part that will admit he's right, that the Colonel is the reason he's as famous as he is and why he's able to keep up with paying for your ever growing family but at the same time the man hasn't ever truly liked you and he especially likes you less and less the more kids you bring into the world. "Elvis, if he had his way you wouldn't have me or our kids." You whisper, pulling up your hands in an effort to get him to pull up his own so that you can place a small kiss to them. "He never has liked any of us. Got mad when I was pregnant with Loretta and Elizabeth but liked how he could spin it. Same wit' Jesse. But our other three? And these ones? If he could leave us out in a ditch somewhere, I honestly think he would. He- This doesn't give you the all American, Hollywood star look, it makes you look like a backwater hick."

"A backwater hick." He repeats back slowly, knowing fully well it wasn't you saying that. Oh he'd expect that from your mama, but not you. Which had to have meant that was the Colonel's words, not your own. "He tell ya that? He tell my goddamn wife that?

When you had first gotten married you might have looked away due to how Elvis's voice deepens in pitch, a sure sign of how angry he is simmering under the surface. Nowadays? Now it just makes you shake your head for a moment before nodding. "He has- which might be why your children kinda like a dog know when someone is-"

"Not a good person? Has a bad character?" He finishes for you before muttering under his breath. "Children 'n dogs."

The puff of air that leaves your nose betrays just how aggravated you're getting to be with the entire conversation as does the rolling movement of your twins. "They've done this for years, Elvis, it's jus' today that they've all done it at once. We deal wit' it for ya. I know you won't leave 'im so I handle it."

His eyes drift down to your stomach where he sees his children move a bit angrily and he frowns realizing that you've been stuck dealing with this alone while he sung the Colonel's praises all this time. He had to admit that as of late he was feeling a bit dissatisfied with the man and was beginning to wonder if maybe it was time for a change. A change that would make everyone happy. He pulls his hands away from yours and allows you to start to brush your hair again while he moves to touch and rub your stomach in an effort to calm the children. It works quicker than he'd have thought was possible judging by the way you lean back in the chair a little and sigh. Placing a kiss to your stomach he stands up. "I'll talk to 'im tomorrow, a'right? 'Bout a lot of things. Now come on, lets get your hair all brushed and my teeth all brushed and get ya into bed 'fore these lil ones wake back up and make a fuss."

You tilt your head up for a kiss before you nod. "Don't need to tell me twice. Go on, I got my hair sweetheart." You pause. "I love you. And I am sorry about what they did."

"Don't be, they're- our kids, mama. If they weren't like this- I'd be worried." He kisses you one more time before he pulls away to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Love ya too."

Elvis manages to finish brushing his teeth before you finish with your hair and murmurs something about checking on the kids. It's a quick walk to the bedrooms and when he opens the door he's bombarded by a flurry of hugs and overlapping voices.

"We know we shouldn't have but he's so mean to mama!"

"He was yelling at Jesse and Anthony and Aaron, you'd've been mad too daddy!"

"He spit on me first!"

"He what?" The last words uttered by Jesse are what finally have Elvis putting up his hands and telling everyone to be quiet. "Didya jus' say he spit on ya?"

Jesse looks away when he answers, knowing that he technically is lying but he knows Mr. Parker would have. He just knows. "He didn't but- Daddy we jus'. He's mean. He's never mean when you're here but he's mean."

Elvis frowns and pulls his children in for a group hug, noting how they try and burrow into him as best as they can almost as if they want his forgiveness and protection all in one. When he pulls away he places a kiss to each of their foreheads. "I- I'm hearin' all 'bout this tonight. Listen. You all go on 'n get into bed. Daddy's gonna deal wit' some things tomorrow. Some things wit' Colonel Parker. Don't you worry 'bout it."

The grins so much like his own crossing all of their faces make his heart so full of love he almost feels like crying before he shakes his head. Lights out once I leave. And be nice to your mama tomorrow mornin' ya know your siblings are a lil rough on her right now."

A chorus of "yes daddy" leaves everyone's lips in whatever way they can manage it before he shuts the door and moves back to your shared bedroom. You're already on the bed by the time he comes back, curled up with a pillow fast asleep as he slides in next to you and nuzzles at your neck. "Ya gotta tell me 'bout these sorta things, darlin'. Can't protect ya if ya don't. But I'll deal wit' it tomorrow mornin'. Have some words wit' 'im. Love all of ya too much to not."

taglist: @ab4eva, @eliseinmemphis, @powerofelvis, @headfullofpresley, @precious-little-scoundrel, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, one day i'm gonna keep track of who would want to be tagged with what. today is not that day.

[pasc4lfuzz]

Hey people! So during the early hours while I was listening to music I started thinking about which ones reminded me of some Pedro Boys, so this post is basically that.

So if you're interested... hop on!!!

warnings: very small smut (sorry not sorry)

dividers by @saradika-graphics

PEDRO BOYS AS SONGS 🎧🎵

Joel Miller

I feel like Joel would be Shades of Cool by Lana Del Rey, just something about this song that screams QZ!Joel Miller and also PostOutbreak!Joel in general.

The guitar solo in the song??? oh man so Joel codded, JUST HEAR ME OUT!

Javier Peña

I couldn't decide between these two, every time im listening to wicked games i remember of Javi, and Tuyo??? PLEASE THIS IS HIS SONG!!!

"What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart)"

You can't tell me that after reading this you didn't thought of Javier Fucking Peña.

Frankie Morales

judge me but i see Frankie listening to Frank Ocean on off. and Pink + White intertwines themes of nostalgia, the inevitability of change, and the bittersweet nature of life. Also i picture Framkie listening to this remembering abou the happy moments he had with his friends.

Marcus Pike

COME ON GUYS THIS IS HIS - AND ONLY HIS - SONG, the lyrics, instrumental, the feeling everything is Marcus Pike.

Our beloved hopeless romantic deserve this magestic song! i mean:

'Cause with your hand in my hand And a pocket full of soul I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go Just put your hand on the glass I'll be tryin' to pull you through You just gotta be strong

THIS SCREAMS MARCUS PIKE!!!!

Agent Whiskey

You say it's big but you take it Ride cowgirl

THIS IS EASILY SOMETHIS JACK WOULD SAY LIKE COME ONNNNNN just imagine the scene, he's laying down on the bed while you are on his laps, both of you bare like the day you were born, his hands gripping your thighs sinking down on his cock throwing your head back murmuring.

"It's so big Jack"

He chuckles grabbing his cowboy hat from the bed headboard and place it in your head.

"You can say it's big but you take it, come on, ride cowgirl"

as he says he grabs your hips circling it while his cock is deep buried inside of you.

DAMN I JUST WROTE A LITTLE SMUT IN THIS, I LOST IT A BIG TIME AGO FOR THIS ONE.

Dieter Bravo

We all know Dieter is very famous in The Bubble universe and he does every thing he can just because of this, and that is literally what the song says about, it tells you about doing every thing to be popular, and well Dieter already is so he is.... enjoying it(?.

Dieter loves attention, he loves the most part of what he can get about being famous.

Dave York

If im not into this man than maybe he's haunting me, besides of being misterious and very hot he also have an interesting job that makes him even hotter.

Just listen to the song and i dare you to say that it doesn't remind you of him.

Din Djarin

I feel like behind that helmet Din jus truly wanna be loved, like he could just forget about all his problems and focus on something else. For this one i don't really have an explanation i just feel it.

Oberyn Martell

This song is the most pure lust you can ever hear, and everyone knows that Oberyn loves and enjoys sex, and this song.... OH MAN IF YOU REALLY EARNED IT IN HIS EYES YOU WOULD BE PRATICALY DEAD FROMPLEASURE THE MORNING AFTER.

He wouls make you go through - at least - 4 or more orgasms, this man won't settle for little, he wants you screaming his name, clawing at his back, begging for him, and after all of that he would give you a breath taking kiss and help you clean yourself.

I hope that everyone who got here enjoyed! Feel free to comment your opinion :)

[atom-writings]

what about hetalia main 8 react to walking in on you changing or something? u dont have to do it if u dont want to ofc and it doesnt have to have any actual nsfw stuff

(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) Walking in on you changing!

(Gender Neutral) Scenarios ~ A/N ohohohoOHOHOHO,,,,,,.,. <- sorry what who was that guy haha im normal im so normal about this

Trigger Warning: Kind of suggestive content, but NOT NSFW!!! Swearing. Fem nickname used one, fem descriptor used once.

“Babe, I was wondering-” Alfred said as he opened the door to your bedroom,

“WAIT- WAIT!” You yelp in response, running to stop the door.

Upon hearing your cry, he looks up from his phone. Then, he freezes in place, his eyes wide as saucers. Awkwardly, he tries to sputter out some kind of response, doing nothing but making extremely intense eye contact with you.

Until he breaks, his eyes darting down to your partially unclothed body for no more than a second.

“ALFRED!”

“You look absolutely smoking, I gotta say-” he says, trying to hold back giggles before you growl loudly in response.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He yells back, frantically backing out of the doorway. You run forward, slamming the door in his face. With your back against the door, you breathe a sigh of relief before he begins knocking on the door.

“W-Wait, I had something to show you!”

“You lost the privilege to see me!”“Aw, man…” You hear Alfred say as he walks away, probably pouting like a little kid.

“Darling, are you done yet?”  Arthur asks, rapping his knuckles against the door.

“Arthur-” You start to respond, before he begins opening the door, “WAIT!”

You run to the bed, trying to grab a blanket to cover yourself with. But all that really did was leave you in perfect view, only wearing your undergarments. You jerked awkwardly to look at the door, only to see Arthur there, frozen in shock.

His mouth agape, his face flushed, and his eyes firmly locked onto your body. Your heart dropped.

“Wh-what the hell?!” You yell, to no response. Heat rises to your cheeks as you see his hungry eyes still not leaving your form.

“ARTHUR!”

“Huh?” He responds, clearly not paying attention to what you said.

“GET OUT!” 

“Hold on, wha-what?” He finally comes to, looking up into your eyes. Clearly, he still wasn’t listening.

“I said to GET OUT! I’m changing for fuck’s sake!” Your voice filled with anger.

“Right. Right, yes. I’m- I’ll do that.” He looks at you with a scared expression, backing out of the room awkwardly.

“I-I’m sorry for staring, love!” You hear him yell through the door moments later, clearly panicked.

“Shut it, perv!”

Before you could even react, Francis burst into your room. You froze, still in the process of taking off your shirt.

“My love!” He gestures dramatically, his eyes closed for effect, “I ju- oh.”

When he lays eyes on your body, his face drops. You just stared into his eyes awkwardly, as his expression changes to a wide smile.

“Well, aren’t you such an attractive little thing!” he remarks, slowing walking towards you.

“F-Francis!” You shoot back in disbelief,

“What? It’s just your body!”

“Y-YEAH! Get out already!”

“Come on, I’m not judging you!” He tries to lay a hand on your waist, before you push him away.

“Francis, for fuck’s sake!”

“Oh, alright! If it bothers you that much…” He looks disappointed as he turns away, exiting your room. You sigh exasperatedly before you’re interrupted by him peaking him head back in quickly. Although at least this time, his eyes are closed.

“Don’t be ashamed of your body, Y/N!”

“I told you to get out!”

“And I’m telling you I just finished dinner!”

“Coming in!” Yao announces, not waiting for a response before he opens the door to your bedroom.

“ONE MINUTE! W-WAIT!” You try to stop him, running to grab the door handle. But you stop just in time to come up to him, nearly touching noses. His eyes widen for a second in surprise, before returning to his usual distant stare.

With that stare, he slowly looked you up and down. Wearing nothing but your undergarments, you began to blush, at a loss for words.

“Cute,” he remarks simply, returning to look you in your bewildered eyes.

“Anyway. Your show is about to be on. Don’t take too long,” he says before shutting the door, still with a relatively blank expression. Leaving you there, wearing next to nothing, still wildly flushed.

What the hell was that?

Before you could even react, you heard your bedroom door opening from behind you. You struggled to turn around, your pants bunched around your legs. But before you could see who it was, you heard a loud familiar yelp.

In only a few seconds, you saw Ivan slap his hands over his face, clearly blushing bright red.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see anything!” He stuttered out, frantically exiting the room. Barely even giving you time to process the exchange.

-

“Ivan?” You ask quietly from behind him, causing him to jump in surprise.

“Y-yes?” He turns around to face you, but he desperately searches for anything in the room to look at.

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed, you know.”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t- I promise-”

“It’s fine!”

“N-no! I do not want to make you uncomfortable!” He pleads as you place a hand gently on his arm.

“We’re dating, it’s awkward but it’s fine, promise.”

“If… if you say so.” He relaxes slightly.

“Now can we move on?”“Yes! But-but… um… one thing.  You’re… really pretty.” Ivan says, taking your hand in his, still blushing.

“Belllaaaaaa~” Feliciano calls, bursting into your room without even a second’s warning. And because of that absence of warning, he was immediately greeted with the sight of you, with absolutely no semblance of a top on.

As you spun around to yell at him, he immediately ran up to you. Taking your hands in his like he had done absolutely nothing wrong, he smiled.

“You look so absolutely perfect today!” He gushes, tucking a hair behind your ear as you lean away from him in surprise.

“F-Feliciano?!”  You struggle to sputter out.

“What? What is it, my love?”

“I- Uh, wh-what?” You stutter in disbelief.

“Huh?”

“Get out! I’m changing! Can’t you see that?!”

“Yeah, but why does that matter?” He cocks his head to the side questioningly.

“Get out!”

“But bella-”

“Feliciano!” You yell. His face drops, looking like a kicked puppy. He starts walking towards the door, before turning to face you again.

“Can’t I see you like that?”

“NOT NOW!”

“F-Fine!” He responds as shuffles awkwardly out the door.

“Can I come in?” Ludwig asks as he knocks on your bedroom door.

“W-Wait!” 

“Alright, so-” he continues, opening the door to see you, with only a pair of sweatpants on. 

As you yell in surprise, he yells back, just as loud. Immediately, his face flushes and he slaps his hand over his eyes. 

“I’m-I’m so sorry, Y/N!” His voice strains.

“I told you to wait!”

“I didn’t hear!  I t-thought you were done!”

“HOW?!”

“I’m sorry!” Ludwig yells, clearly incredibly embarrassed as his face continues to grow more red. He fumbles behind him with one hand, trying to open the door while his other hand is still clasped over his eyes.

“I only saw for a second! I promise!”

You groan, “A little more to the left,”

He finally grasps the door handle, desperately opening the door and running out.

“Dear, I promise I didn’t mean to!” He yells through the door.

“I GOT THAT!”

You shot around, mid-taking off your pants, as you heard your door knob turn. 

“Hold o-” Before you could even tell him to wait, Kiku opened the door, just to see you barely clothed. With no sound between you, he froze, his eyes wide as he looked you up and down.

“I…  um-” you start to say before he slowly backs out of the doorway, his eyes still locked on your body. His face was flush, nearly as red as a tomato, yet he said absolutely nothing as he left the room. 

-

“You want to talk about you walking in on me?” You ask, sitting down next to him hours later. The moment you bring it up, his face turns red once again and he begins sitting awkwardly.

“I’m very, very sorry.” He responds quietly, bringing his book up closer to his face. 

“I- it’s ok… but do you not knock usually?”

“I didn’t think you were doing anything…”

“Well, I was, so from now on…  please knock.” He nods slowly, still not looking you in the eyes. 

He pauses for a few seconds, “You look very nice…”

“KIKU!”

[jiminrings]

im still on jungkooks side sorry not sorry. i mean yes he’s the same person who celebrated his old relationship anniversary with his ex and all that yadayada (i wouldn’t even forgive him but that’s something she choose to do and now has to deal with) but what i kind of find hypocritical is how come yoongi has the chance to stay in their life even though she didn’t date him but that’s a person who still had romantic feelings for her and was ready to ask her out and im sorry but i do not believe her when she said she would choose jungkook everytime because she can‘t know that. i mean if someone tries to say yea but he’s nice and helps both of them well so was jungkooks ex? she wasn’t rude or anything so why does he get to be in their life and say these things/do these things that shouldn’t be his job as a FRIEND because that’s the job of the husband/father. i also totally understand that jungkook was afraid the second time telling her what was going on and what not but this just means to me that he truly has no one other than his wife to speak out freely without getting judged by anyone. i mean she has jimin, seokjin and yoongi so why is it that she gets to talk to them about their business and nobody bats an eyelash to that childish of act instead of just ranting to someone that’s NOT someone who had romantic feelings for you and always makes your husband insecure and no not everyone has to work on themselves to get away from those feelings etc bc simply why? yoongi isn’t someone important that’s a coworker of her so why not stop taking to him? i totally understand his insecurities because hello? why do you speak to yoongi about your marriage? what makes you different from his ex who spoke to jungkook in the past? there should be boundaries or he should gtfo. don’t get me wrong im not saying i don’t see jungkooks mistakes but nobody can tell me that she’s selfish simply because she works 24/7 and that with her friends but jungkook takes care of the baby and watches the wall ALONE? wtf lol nah and also what does her enemy have anything to with her? that’s work what if he never becomes this chance again all because he choose to STAY AT HOME ALONE AND WATCH HIS KID instead of doing work for a bit and coming back while feeling accomplished to have done such an amazing body of work? i simply do not care if he works with her enemy because there’s always going to someone you don’t like and you can’t always turn everything down just because that person hurt you. why does she always question his loyalty as if she was any better? plaid into that situation ship with yoongi and jungkook didn’t say shit and now SHE wants to talk about boundaries/loyalty lmao?

sorry went off (im on my period 😂) if you couldn’t tell it’s not me hating on her it’s just me saying that she’s a hypocrite but still loved it you writing is amazing!!! 💚🫶🏻

HEE-HEE DON'T BE SORRY AT ALL BAE!!! phase 3's rlly meant to be a moral dilemma fic jus like how phase 1 went :D YOU'RE RIGHT THOUGH!!!! also exactly :( the very existence of 478yoongi is a double-edged sword (that hurts jk the more that it benefits oc) n he represents the very flawed n maybe complex (?) idea that oc would have a fail-safe if in case it doesn't work out 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i don't day this to imply that it's NOTTT gonna work out or that oc would cheat or anything, but what i mean is that i agree w u that almost every time, if not always, jk n oc's relationship isn't equal!!! anyway i love ur take n i don't have all the words rn bc my brain is fried from driving all day so i'll elaborate soon !!! mwah do not apologize at all love yew

[redswaberkez]

ayo whos ur favorite deus ex character btw nice art

ohhhhh GOD my time has come. and so have i (wRONG GAME)

tldr

i love "main" 7-8 of them equally. What is a main to me? ofc Adam, Frank, Megan, Malik, Eliza, JC and Alex D. One special place in my heart is for Vaclav

big text below

Thank for compliment btw 😖

Spoilers alert ? idk

(warning my english is gonna be sometimes sooo rusty i guess)

DOUBLE WARNING I don’t rule out that over the many years of being in dxs fandom, the main concept of game's lore in my head just didnt messed up with my own headcanons. it is alteady messed up. cuz. yk) me n my besties created the full story aND - [GUNSHOT]

yeah i know it is strange to say, that dx has more main characters that just. Adam, JC and Alex D, cuz. They are Literally The Main chars. But back to my seven.

As i said before i love them all equally, for different reasons. One thing abt dx as a game is that characters arent plain and they are multifaceted.(?)

Adam

I love Adam for his complicated story, personality, for his own struggles, motivations and how they are represented in game. These small environment storytelling pieces and music that creates the mood (wait redswa it isnt abt the environment). What im trying to say. Through the gameS - dxhr and dxmd - we can see how Adam is healing from his trauma, and how heavy it was. Also needet to be noted how he interacts w another characters. AND this tension between him and Frank but how at the end of the day (but lit at panchaea) Frank is still cares a lot abt Adam.

Also Adam is just like my bestie. Moral think for yourself. Yeah.

Pritchard

ONE thing i need to say abt frank is HESSS JUST LIKE MEE FRR, and now imagine some kind of cringe sigma phonk playing on the background. Yeah thats it. I relate to him so much but like. in more✨deep infj cringe way✨ Have you evere feel like Pritchard is gonna explode from nerves or even neurotism? Or like from blast of incomperhensible mess of feelings but he hides it? This is what im talking about. Heyy dont judge me i need to project some shit to my faves okay???? Damn how could you tell i have a lot of hc on dx? i have no idea!

I love Pritchard's informality. I mean. BRO WHY YOUR BIKE IS EVEN ON YOUR WORKPLACE???? AND THIS FINAL FANTASY POSTER???? AND THIS TV INSTALLATION??? honestly?understandable.

In Prague, Frank is still reminds Adam abt himself. Yeah i knoe it is for game purposes, but imo in lore perspective: Pritchard is gathered a lot of info for Adam (basically dxhr retelling), and this small detail: Adam keeps Pritchard's book. (i know you can find them anywhere in Prague, but still (methink eidos gaf later abt this texture and put it anywhere jus because lmao))

This ^^^ is Frank btw

Ok enough abt Pritchard cuz then its gonna be endless

Megan and Malik.

Another notable thing that i like in dx series is that women in game arent sexualized. They arend "simple and f🤮ckable objescts" Megan is a scientist, on a verge of the greatest innovation. Yes. We dont know much abt her bc she is literally missing. Malik is a pilot. Damn i love her sm. Her chardesign. Strong and powerful charisma and nonconfotmity. Faridah's sidequest in Hengsha???? MY GIRLLLL GO AND GET AND BEAT SHIT OF THIS ASSHOLE. 👊👊👊👊

I remember how sad was i, when Malik was killed in dxhr and how happy was i to find out her little gift in Prague.

Overall kinda sad that there is not much screentime of them.

AND another notable thing. Megan and revolver. Revolver as an inspiration. OK I GOT IT

Eliza

Its 2028 and AI is already taken big steps in development. Questions of self-consciousness of an AI were asked in a lot of sci-fi creations. And deus is not not an exception. Love how Eliza obtains her own conscious during the game and how it leads to project Hyron at the end. I have a lot of thought abt p. Hyron overall. Another topic ngl.

And ofc her design is beyond all praise. Thank you designers for NOT making her oversexualized.

During dxmd Eliza is also questioning a lot of essential questions. I know she does. But cant remember what exactly it was. Need to replay tho

JC

My bad, i still cant play through dx original, so i can only rely on his vibes. His vibes are good and silly. He has big meme potential cuz hes test-tubed. Not sorry tho

bro im laughing and exploding from this meme like 3 yrs but RIGHT NOW DURING ANSWERING YOUR ASK I UNDERSTOOD THAT THIS IS SOYJAK REFERENCE AND NOW IM DYING LIKe x3 TIMES I WAS SO BLIND MY VISION WASNT AUGMENTED TILL NOW

Alex D

When my pc even didnt existed and i was a laptop player, when the grass was greener....... I played dxiw. Yeah it isnt so big, but for its times it is good enough. Alex also radiate vibes of small and silly-stupid-Bi guy, the one who is gonna trip on air.

(meme with pom dog says "I will gnaw out your heart and eat it")

Look at him. Hes got an ears, unlike his brothers, but he has ZERO braincells. JC and Paul at least got some braincells, maybe one, or two and they are belong to Paul. Cost of an ears = cost of brain

Alex tried to fool up an AI. I would venture to say that he even flirted with her, and got rejected. Local bidlow tried to gop-stop (bandits tried to steal) his jacked and he could give it to and be like "better be pissed on than punched😖"

Yes, He is a silly fool (noneg, with love) but hes got a big heart like. At least, i remember so.

And last but not least

Vaclav

Love him for his light distinctive punkie nature, with big heart and ready to help whenever you need it. Vaclav tries his best so much. In library we can find cz-eng vocabulary with medical terms, when ig most of his patiens are czechs... says a lot

I would say that vaclav is silly but not stupid, not even naive. We can find him on Dvali's blacklist, but he is important for them. (but we also remember that otar just dont like him cuz vac knows radich's secret and otar is not (mb that the reason why vaclav is blacklisted))

well how to say it.. he's soul is good and lovely, he is not evil or dark. Idk cant find an eng analogue.

But in srb and ru we have доброћудан [dobrochudan] (literally good-lovely) or добродушный [dobrodushny] (good-souly)

actually this gif sums everything abt him very well

Thank you for ask! I really liked to talk on this topic

[itsybitsybatsyspider]

For the "dvd commentary" ask thing:

(from your Always Catch You fic)

" Her shoulders shook from the force of the sobs and she could feel the warmth of tears slide down her face and fall into the open air below them. They would fall for hundreds of thousands of feet, before finally breaking against the ground.

Rayla felt a soft yet steady hand on her shoulder, and let Callum turn her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, and Rayla did all she could to melt into it. Clutching onto the contact like a drowning man to a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.

She burrowed her face in the crook of his neck and and curled up against him.

Callum moved one of his hands, causing Rayla to stiffen for a just a moment at the lack of contact, but was put to rest when she felt him begin to stroke her hair. Untangling the knots in her bed-ridden silver locks and gently brushing the space between her horns.

She cried into his shoulder and felt the resolve inside of her break. She wasn’t strong right now, and as much as that small part of her wanted to hide it, she knew she couldn’t hide it from Callum.

So for what felt like a small eternity, Rayla left herself go and allowed herself for the first time in a long while to cry, the emotions of all the stress and fear and pain from these past few weeks really finally getting to her. And the entire time she held onto Callum like the drowning person she was, and he held onto her. Keeping her afloat in that wild, stormy sea of emotion.

Her hands trembled, and her heart ached, and her head hurt, but when it was all over, when her sobs were reduced to nothing more than slight hiccups and shuddery breaths, she realized that she actually felt better.

It was like it was all bottled up and now after so long, she finally emptied out the bottle. And it felt good.

But she was still exhausted, her eyes cast downward in a heavy gaze and her shoulders shrinking in on herself. And the entire time, Callum had held and comforted her. Whispering reassuring nothings into the air around them and brushing her hair out of her face as she let herself go. He didn’t judge, didn’t say anything, and for all of the things in life that she was thankful for, Rayla was thankful for that.

So only when the air was still and when the moon was high in the sky, did Callum finally break the stifling silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly. Hesitancy and caution evident in his voice as he asked it. “Big feelings time?” he then said after a beat had passed, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, Rayla could clearly hear the smile in his voice. She scoffed lightly at his antics and shifted her head so that it was resting more comfortably on his shoulder. "

(this whole fic was beautiful and I loved this piece. I also wanna know your thought process that led to writing a nightmare fic/letting Rayla express her fears bc I love it) 💜💜💜

man it's been so long since anyone asked me about this fic. Every once in a while i'll receive kudo notifications for it and it's always a pleasant surprise, because hey! Someone found it!

AND THANK YOU SO MUCH HFNSDJKGLNJEFRSDK IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!

And honestly the thought process behind the whole fic and getting started on it was the fact that after watching the finale and just being completely invested in that scene where Rayla jumps off the cliff, i couldn't help but think about how traumatic that'd be.

Rayla had no clue Callum was there, she full on tackled Viren without any indication or promise that she would be caught and she made that decision believing it'd be the last decision of her life.

And i jus-

ho boi

That is what got those thoughts GOING!

It was also inspired by the idea of Rayla and Callum just being fluffy and soft together and i couldn't help but think of just how cozy and sweet it'd be to take a fucking nap wrapped in WINGS! Like i can GUARANTEE that that nap would be LEGENDARY!

And nightmare/fluff fics are always good and i needed some soft Rayllum.

So i decided that i'd do it myself. :)

Thanks for the ask!! It made my day!! <3<3<3<3

[strangersteddierthings]

More Wayne! I love love love the dynamic you’re writing with these fics. And I love seeing Wayne realize how good Steve is

Thanks so much!! I'm enjoying writing the dynamics here.

First and Second and Third and Fourth parts that are right before this one:

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face, so he says, "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?" "Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed. Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

[egokillr]

I feel like my view on the world and myself has been so tainted from since I was young. I'm struggling and I wanna start over but idk how. I wannwanna be a completely different person. Life now feels like someone's description of a painful past. I wanna get out but I have a fear of being trapped here and not knowing like my limiting and toxic beliefs are stopping and I'd never know and end up spending all my time here. I really don't want that, it's my biggest fear. Can you give me advice pls?

hey babe <3

i jus wanna let you know all of your feelings are valid and thank you for being open w me. from what i can tell, you have a fear of failing and staying in the same position. i wanna address this before i tell you what to do. all fear is, is a false construct of reality. because you can choose your own reality, you can either choose to make a rule that fear doesn’t effect you at all (bc it can’t, you will always win) or manifest a life without being fearful. here is a pic abt this topic from r/Neville Goddard that goes into this in loa terms:

(and btw you don’t need to be happy to manifest what you want) my second point is, forgive yourself for the things that have happened in your past. you were always trying your best with what you had, there’s nothing wrong with that. stop judging yourself, catch yourself if you ruminate about your past and cut yourself off. not because you can’t think about it, but bc you deserve to live in the present moment, for your own peace. from there, you can decide whether or not you want to revise the situation to always having your dream life or you can just choose to accept it and move on. i know it may feel hard to move on now but you can make all of this much easier on yourself by setting the intention for life to be easier. also, you can never be stuck because we’re all just observing states of consciousness. we’re always moving through the motions; there’s a really good edward art video that explains this exact situation too. (i highly recommend watching, this totally changed my mindset towards my anxiety.)

okay, onto my last point, how to change your self concept and life. i actually wanna make a whole post on this but im just gonna tell you what i think you could do for your situation. you don’t have to do all of these things but just choose what works best for you c: so where i would start is with addressing self concept/ mental health. catch up with yourself, do some self care and take it slow. ask yourself what you want in life, maybe get a mental picture of what you would like to become as a person. if you don’t know what you want in life, note the things you enjoy everyday and it will come naturally. (or you can always manifest finding out what your desired life is) every moment is a new moment, you have a blank slate every passing second to choose who you want to be. so, start imagining yourself as the person you want to become. nothing is stopping you from being that person now. you don’t have to feel like it right now, you only have to intend/ think it. the rest will follow. any thoughts that say the opposite are completely invalid because now you know that only you can choose what you are. (no thoughts have power until you say they do!) so, onto the manifesting a new life part. first, pick which way you want to manifest. you can use subs, affirmations, knowing/ intention, scripting, void, etc. the techniques don’t matter, your intent and beliefs do. and then just stay consistent to it, don’t give up on your dream life because you deserve the best. that’s literally it! and i would always recommend to simplify it, make it as fun as possible, and make your own rules :D good luck anon, you got this!!

[42bakery]

rafannadal here yeaaaaaaaassssssss you’re right ofc!!! i can’t judge bc i wasn’t here but im sure there are visible differences between how the others rode that bike + they have a super old spec, don’t they… what did alex say, like… first quarter of 2023 ? which ofc makes marc keeping up with the gp24s so much more impressive (i think talk was like, if pecco is 30 secs faster than last year on his gp24 then he should at least have those 30secs on marc but he has… seven…? LESS? which yeah tyres etc however. idt the new compound explains All That) and honestly i feel like everyone is shutting up about HOW impressive exactly but ALSO.

need ducati to break it down for me in detail, actually… i am honestly just curious how specifically marc is pulling that performance out of a bike that should be finishing somewhere in the low top10 at best

Helo @rafannadal at this point is embarrassing for me to answer this ask, but here I am.

This make reference to this post if any one is curios

In general, Jorge and Pecco struggled in the first half/first third of last season, which is why KTM and Apriia were so close. But Marc just didn',t He was there fighting and even beating the GP24 in a couple of Sprint races.

The difference between the GP24 and GP23 is very track dependent because apparently the major difference on the bikes are the grip, The GP24 has more grip and allows them to break early on the corners and open the gas also early, which if you look a battle between the GP24 vs GP23, the older bike loses on the acceleration stage and gives the illusion that the GP24 pulls away. Yes the GP24 pulls away, but it's moistly at the exit of the corner and then the gap maintains just because the GP23 accelerates later. We can see that the gap now is bigger, and my money is on the GP24 updates that are helping into create that gap, even if Ducati insist the bike don't have any.

I would need to look at the data (which I haven't and I'm going by what the comments said), but I think at the start of the season Marc was like 6-7 seconds faster than the top Ducati on the same circuit. Yes I know the tyres play a lot on that, but I don't think is that much. So overall, Marc is just fastest. So I'm dreading (and exited) the moment Marc is put on the GP25 and has the same weapons as Pecco.

Unfortunately, we will never have the full data. The only thing we can do is compare lap times and race distance and see how much faster Marc was to the top Ducati to guess the tyre paper in all of this. I don't think Marc place should be a low top-10, last year other riders with the GP22 managed podiums and victories more consistently

[hellomeowme]

First day of penning my thoughts down

i am caught between wantingto express myself as honestly as pssible and being as eloqueny as pssoble - maybe those two cannot coexist on any plane of paper or platform i put my words down on.

ive been oscillating between wanying read more and trying tonwrite again. Here i am rambling on about the process instead of actually pouring my heart out rn. Im at R’s place rn, after i had a cry sesh about hiw lonely i am (you could fashion a calender out of how rhythmically i suffer from these spells of melancholia- funny because her casually (and causally) mentioning that she rode in some guys convertible in the morning was what caused me to spiral in the first. I want to say im not jealous, that i jus want what she has would be a lie because i distinctively remember thinking why does she have everything and i cant have this one thing that i writhe around filled with longing so often that ive discovered talking about it is futile - only breeds the particular brand of pathetiqué i feel like ive perfected over the last 3 years that have caused me to conclude my love life (or the dearth of the same) is hopeless. Maybe it would be true to say i am not envious of her though; now im thinking of I and whether i should send this to her because i want her to judge my writing (though i think i write better anyway) but i feel it will cause dishonesty to creep into this attempt to bare my soul to starngers on the internet. Also because me and R just talked about she is so wishy washy about studies and how it can be so frustating to talk to her. Also thought about K while writing this because we made this acc together, and maybe also due to the fact i talked about her with A recently. Im meeting C tomm and i dont want my frnds to see him cuz hes ugly and they know i dated him and i feel like a terrible person beacuse i told him to wear a mask for his safety wo revealing the real reason - my vanity. Im putting my hope into bumble for the umpteenth time and was constantly checking it as if thats gonna make anything change (j did say that im paralysed bw wanting a partner and not doin anything about it maybe that’s why im planning to use it more often). Ill check it tomm; i really need to write my journal- babye!

[caregiver-twylas-daycare]

somone keeps teling me ta t big snacs means im not etin enouph meels an is stopin me from eting te onl foods i ete ebry day >:( bc shes probly rite but says it lik i shoul ete les snacs an not lik i shold ete mor mels, she dosn rlly complain wen i jus ete notin, only wen i go to et a snac.

an she also acs lik is my falt i don know wat i can ete wen dey go shopin, i jus don know but she keps blamin me eben wen i say dat, an wen i cant stan eting the sam food ebry day or wen i start not likin a dinner se acts lik tast buds don chang. gon on way too long an she eter doesn listn or she forges, an se gets mad wen we forget somting lik she doesn forget ebry promis shes evr made >:{

ud tink shed reliz stoping snacs won mak me ete meels. but no. i don wanna ete in fron of her or do anytin aroun her bu shes alwys aroun an im stuc in one stupid place ebry day jus to avoid her an al te noise.

im rlly rlly sory if dis isnt a good tim to ven

Thank you for venting! You should eat whenever you are hungry. She shouldn't be judging you for eating snacks. Not everyone can have 3 full meals all the time. I don't care what she says you deserve to eat! Do what makes you comfortable and safe.

[riarevenge]

Can I ask why you’re so open about drugs and stuff when people can be mean

first reason is cah i’m meaner 😭 i have raging anger issues that switch on even more when someone’s coming at me. so if anons want to be cruel about stn, im jus gonna give it right back! second reason is a bit sappy ibr. cah all i here from therapists and friends and family is: you’re too guarded. i don’t seek out help or comfort from friends, i don’t talk to anyone when shit goes south, i jus deal and usually disappear from the face of the earth for however long. i don’t feel the need to ask for support cah i’m way too wrapped up in a temper and trust issues. but i talk about it on here cah?? idc ?? like okay, yous know i’ve done drugs on and off often in my teen years, okay, yous know that i frequently go back to it when i’m in bad places, okay yous know i have bpd, okay yous know i’m a this and that survivor. that’s fine by me. cah you know what, for every nasty anon, there’s like five who ask for help, advice, who thank me for talking abt it, or there’s literal mutuals in my messages doing the same. you know? why do i care what this and that fucker is gonna say if i know that someone who might not know who to talk wit can come to me? i don’t care if anons want to say i’m a stoner like it’s a bad thing, i don’t care if they think i’m nasty for biting back at bitches like i jus don’t care. i always think about that anon who came to me to ask for help cah she was in an abusive situation during the lockdowns, and she came back with an update months later. why would i care about being judged if i can help someone? at the end of the day, i don’t look dumb. ppl who are mad at a girl for struggling and not caring to hide it are the dumb ones. they screammmm wanting ppl to be real and the second you are they jump on it either way. uno? ppl are always gonna try and knock you down the mountain you’ve climbed, you jus have to push them off before they do.

[dishtothedeath]

buddy, you're killing it out there | bonbon bourbon | ch1 trial | re: start

An interrogation is a guilt-presumptive process, a bombardment; we have this, that, and those, and we know it was all you, don’t take water offered, don’t make conclusive statements, don’t dig your own grave. Believability is in the nitty gritty, the fine details, and once the specifics begin to hitch, that’s when the world closes in. Give only as much information as is needed, knock at least ten sentences out of this script. Concise, concise, concise.

As the first on the scene, he knows they’ll demand it of him: where were you, when was it, what did you see? And then, you did it, you did it, you did it.

Stage lights are on. Bonbon’s nestled between Alfie and Castella like a good chickadee in a nest of canaries, just as put together in the nighttime as he is in the day. From far away, nobody can tell that his makeup’s started to cake. The cameras, they can touch him up, can break him down, but right now? They stare down at him, press down on him, crick in his shoulder, pound for pound of watching weight. Bonbon, sweet Bonbon Bourbon, this kind of situation was never meant for you. But there’s an audience, and they’re expecting another day’s performance. Somehow, scrounge it up, pin yourself down, fasten, hold it together. Lose everything you have, but never your composure. Posturing is half the game.

A gloved hand comes to raise in the air. No energetic straight arm, no rolling wrist, no dazzling fingers. Straight and serious and unbecoming of everyone’s lovable fool.

“Well, um. Hi there, everybody. I know this ain’t the, ideal circumstances fer us all t’gather in. But I figured youse’d all have questions fer the first guy on the scene, I mean, I know I would. Still a good deal, topsy-turvy, over the whole thing, but I’ma try an’ tell y’all what went down to the best that I know. An’, I apologize, real big, if I go ahead an’ croak somethin’ laugh-wise. It’s a nerves thing, I don’t mean it. Hard’ta find any o’ this funny in the slightest.”

Sharp clear of the throat. Relentless fidgeting of the cup of coffee in front of him, left hand drumming on the rim, right hand turning it a quarter turn forward, then a quarter turn back. Left hand goes up to fix some loose strands of hair in the way. Left hand adjusts the ruffle of his collar. Left hand goes back to tapping.

“Like th’thing said, was ‘bout half past midnight when I came down to th’studio kitchen. Wanted t’sneak something to drink ‘fore I hit the sack, yeah? Then I come up by the door, an’, you were there, you could see it, blood everywhere. Smell’a it gets ‘round fast, an’ it ain’t pretty. Took a look in— didn’t even really see the bananas ‘till I rounded th corner an’ saw. Ides, down there.”

Two toned eyes flick down to the coffee cup for a split second to check himself in the reflection. He looks presentable. Not good, but presentable, which is a poor eye’s good. People are more keen to believe somebody eloquent and well groomed, it conveys refinement, and refinement means that what he says is of importance. Don’t lose the details in the narrative, Bonbon.

“Had no idea ‘bout Sunny ‘till everybody found ‘im later, ‘cuz I pretty much bolted back the moment I saw the, the good judge, on the floor, that is. Clowns don’t exactly got a lotta crime scene experience, y’see, jus’ felt like I had to, to— the smell— had to get away from th’smell. All I done saw at first was the blood, but, once we got back to it, seems like they had’a buncha stabs in the front. One’a them was a ‘lil funkier than the others, a ‘lil deeper. Said they died’uva, whazzit, heart failure? I ain’t a doctor, don’t know if that’s the term fer ‘stabbed a lot’ they use in order t’be nice in the hospital, but that ain’t the kinda wound ya come back from.”

Back up, putting his head at a good angle for visibility. Keeping his breathing steady.

“That’s ‘bout it. Didn’t see anybody comin’ or goin’ from there on the way. Don’t know who was out an’ rompin’ at that hour. Jus’ saw what I saw.”

[amaskofmanyshades-archive]

-Beware the Quiet Ones-

Based upon this ask, if y'all want further context. Needless to say, Matt gets the absolute shit beaten out of him...and thus, this ask makes more sense.

"...If it's that big of a deal, Matt...then why don't'cha both make like men an' fight it out?"

For that question to have come from Faustine both surprised and confused Matt simultaneously.

It was such a simple question, and yet, it was as if she'd just asked what the answer was to the meaning of life. Bright blue eyes stared back incredulously.

"I mean...shit, when ye put it like that, Faust...maybe i will. I'd finally wipe the arrogant look off'a that fuckin' DJ's stupid face. Not sure what ev'ryone else sees in tha' prick, when i tried t' talk to 'im, 'e ignores me."

Faustine rolled her eyes. He had to be kidding...right?

"Matt...y' ever come t' thinkin' that maybe there's a reason 'e is? Like jus' he is doesn't mean that."

"An' say if it is? How th' fuck do you know? Only one way t' find out."

Sure enough, as if on cue...there he walked, out from the Self Checkouts and towards the doors. Matt's only opportunity to strike, and he was only holding a small bag of items: likely lunch or miscellaneous stuff for the house. Still, Maxsim seemed to be an elusive individual and only came around seldomly.

So, Matt would never have a chance like this again. Not for a while.

So, with purpose, he strode over to the boy and followed in tow with as he walked out. He thanked God that he was off that day, and so he wouldn't get in trouble with Faustine if he did decide to throw hands with Maxsim.

"Oi. Emo boy. Ov'r 'ere.", Matt called, trying to get Max's attention.

He stopped, and slowly turned to look at him. Dark umber eyes stared Matt up and down, as if judging him, and pale lips pulled into a thin line. Yet, Maxsim didn't respond; instead, his expression and outward demeanor spoke volumes to Matt. This only served as fuel to the fire.

Matt growled quietly under his breath.

"Ah...too good to even tell me t' fuck off, yeah? Let's see if yer above catchin' these fuckin' hands, Hot Topic. You an' me. Right now.", came a heated response.

Maxsim opened his mouth, eyes wide for a moment and looking around wildly for a way out. Before he could bolt the other way, Matt reached over to grab the boy's hoodie by the back. Once Matt's hand connected, he grabbed the fabric by the fistful and yanked him back to him. He barked a cold laugh.

"S'matter, bitch boy? Scared i'll fuck up yer pretty face~? Pussy. C'mon, fight back!"

Matt attempted to swing, but all his fist met was air when Maxsim broke away to dodge. This only served in making him angrier. He stepped in quickly, and grabbed him by the collar, trying to push Maxsim to the ground.

Out in the parking lot, the commotion of the two men yelling and cursing attracted attention. Even Faustine, who was quick to run out to see what the screaming was about. Suffice to say, her expression was about as expected.

Unsurprised, above all else...

But, as the manager, she had to at least try to break up the fight or call for another stronger man to come pull the two apart. At least, somehow, Matt was able to avoid the cameras by catching Maxsim out towards the other side of the lot.

"Matt, stop! Turn 'im loose! An' plus, i ain't meant to be here...", the last part was mumbled under her breath.

However, Matt didn't listen. Instead, all that ensued was more yelling and grabbing of the collar in hopes of choking someone out. Maxsim yelled something, neither Matt or Faustine was sure if it was in English or not.

Before Matt could finally land a hit, it was intercepted with a headbutt to the nose. Matt screamed out and backed up, touching his hand to where Maxsim's forehead had landed. When he pulled it away, he found blood. He snorted in disbelief.

"Fuckin'--! Hmph...cheap shot. Ye ain't gonna be as lucky as tha' when i--"

Before Matt could finish, the pure hell that came from starting a fight Maxsim had only just begun…

Maxsim threw the first punch, which was enough to send Matt straight to the concrete and the blow in itself was enough to daze him. Stars flashed before his vision and his head swam, pain blossoming from his temple and cheek.

He did this again. And again. And again, until Matt found himself on the ground with the boy on top of him, ready to continue the onslaught of abuse. Looking up into the dead, wild eyes of the normally quiet, mild-mannered boy sent a fear through Matt that felt foreign to him. It wasn't like looking up into a human's eyes...but rather demonic force of nature.

Like something else was compelling Maxsim to keep going...and the way his dark hair shadowed the upper half of his face only made look that much more of a nightmare to Matt.

Matt's vision was blurring, both with sweat and tears, and he spat at the ground beside him.

"Ok. What th'--h-holy SHIT."

"...Что еще ты хочешь сказать...?" (...Anything else you want to say...?)

The response he received was not as he expected, nor did he expect the voice that came from Maxsim's lips. It was deep and felt like sandpaper on his ears, but it wasn't unpleasant. He recognized the language...if only from Faustine and, most notably, from Robin.

Russian, wasn't it?

Either way, Matt remained silent, save for a slight narrowing of the eyes.

Maxsim huffed, before standing up and leaving Matt on the concrete amongst a murmuring crowd. He was sure he'd heard Faustine's mumbling and an annoyed, "I'll call your mom...c'mon, lemme get you t' the ER".

He groaned, sitting up and burying his face into his hands, both from pain and embarrassment.

He was then unceremoniously wrenched up to his feet by Faustine herself, whom he was sure for the entirety of the trip to the ER and then some, he'd have to listen to as she bitched at him for what he'd done.

"Boy, i COULD fire you for fightin' on store property. I could if i fuckin' wanted t'...i could also leave yer ass laying on out tha' fuckin' pavement, but we both know i can't do that. Yer maman would also 'ave MY ass as well as yers...an' i know she is because yer th' fuckin' dumbass fuckin' instigated th' shit.", she growled indignantly, "But hey! Least ye got yer answer, right?! Man's not a prick; he's more scared o' you than you o' him!"

Matt blinked, unsure if he'd heard her right.

Scared? Of him?

That man was DEFINITELY not scared of him, by the look in his eyes. If anything, those were the eyes of a man about to murder him in the Supercenter parking lot. He found it incredibly hard to believe that Maxsim was even shy or scared of Matt.

"...An'...yer t-tellin' me this NOW?"

"Would'ja 'ave listened t' me if i told you before you fought 'im? I tried t' tell ya! Ain't my fault y' don't like t' listen! Mr. Black-Air-Force-Can't-Tell-Me-Nuthin'--"