#just. like. i was still putting my socks on (not even my shoes or lacing up said shoes but fumbling with Socks) when the gun went off for--

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

yikes but i feel like i am Behind

[valeriianz]

yeah, okay. how about a Parent Trap dreamling AU?

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

“I was hoping I’d find you out here.”

Hob only speaks once he’s mere feet from Dream, at the end of the pier. Dream surely had heard him approach, the damp, squeaky wood of the dock giving him away. But Dream hadn’t looked back. 

He looks at Hob now, twisting his head just enough to watch as Hob carefully sits next to him with a grunt, unfolding his legs to let them drape over the edge and his shoes inches away from the surface of the water.

They say nothing for a while, staring straight ahead, out past the lake, the murky waters gentle and reflecting the clouds above, moving just enough in the soft breeze to reveal rays of the setting sun here and there.

This whole trip had been… interesting, to say the least. A weekend vacation at a resort gone completely haywire. Hob certainly hadn’t expected to see his ex-husband getting necked in the elevator by some well-dressed blond wearing sunglasses. Indoors.

The look on Dream’s face, as he and Hob made eye contact across the lobby, just before the elevator doors closed, had been hilarious though.

“Our sons.” Dream finally says with a hint of astonishment, his low voice barely disturbing the quiet.

Hob huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes and leaning back on his hands.

“Can’t believe they did this.”

Hob can sense Dream looking at him, and cracks an eye open to catch his gaze. 

“No?”

Hob laughs again, shaking his head. Clearing it. From the deep blue of Dream’s eyes. Still as striking as ever, even weathered from age. Twelve years.

“He gets it from you, I hope you are aware.” Dream continues, affection in his tone.

Hob chuckles. “Perhaps the idea was Robyn. But the logistics?” Hob peeks over, side-eyeing Dream. “That’s all from you. That’s Orpheus”

A tiny smirk tugs on Dream’s lips and Hob finds his gaze fixed to the sight. It had been a long time since he’d seen Dream smile. 

“You,” Hob starts again. “And your particularities.”

“You used to find them charming, I remember.” Dream looks down into the water, kicking his legs slightly. “Not as off-putting as my personality.”

“You were very prickly, back then.” Hob agrees with a laugh, feeling bold and bumping their shoulders. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Dream goes quiet, as does Hob. Sitting in silence. Listening to the sounds of nature around them. The rustle of leaves, the sounds of birds singing, the lapping of the waves. 

“They’re watching us, you know.” Dream speaks again.

Hob smiles. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Dream gives a long sigh, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. Hob watches him, openly. Takes in the long form of Dream, the rolled up sleeves of his black button down, revealing creamy white forearms against equally black jeans, cuffed around the ankles. His shoes and socks are tucked next to him, and Hob wonders how often Dream lets his guard down like this now.

And Dream’s aged infuriatingly well, in his physical appearance. A little more filled out, still thin though. Like Hob could still wrap his entire body around him, embrace Dream and fit him against his chest, where he would fit best. He’s got maybe some lines on his forehead but otherwise…

“You look good, Dream.”

Dream looks sideways up at Hob before sitting up properly.

After an agonising silence, Dream sighs, his eyes moving, studying Hob.

“As do you.”

Hob licks his lips and tears his gaze away just as his eyes settle on Dream’s mouth. He clears his throat and speaks forward, forcing his thoughts out of the past.

“Robyn misses you.”

Dream laughs sadly. “He doesn’t even know me.”

He could know you, Hob thinks. “He talks about you though. He wonders… what you’re like.”

Dream sighs again, rolling his eyes upward.

“He’s been a handful this past week, pretending to be Orpheus. A menace.”

Hob laughs, pulling a hand through his hair.

“Sorry about that. 

“He doesn’t like Cori.”

Hob feels a nerve twitch. Neither do I.

“Ah, Cori. That the bloke you were mackin’ on in the lift?”

Dream shoots him a pointed look and Hob smirks and winks. “Nice looking fellow– I’m assuming. Couldn’t see his face with those sunglasses.”

“He’s just a fling.”

“Ah.”

The silence between them is heavy now, turning awkward. Hob takes a sharp breath through his teeth, changing his tone to be playful.

“At your age?”

“Shut up.” Dream shoves Hob and his smile is blinding. 

Hob laughs and it catches Dream, who is giggling now behind his hand and something in Hob’s chest lurches. Lodges in his throat. He looks at Dream, just them, alone and his heart is suddenly screaming with regret.

There’s an ache to touch. To feel Dream’s hands on him again, to hear his laugh, to earn his hard-won smiles. Hob wonders how much Dream had changed, if he still likes the same things. If he still takes his tea with far too much cream and sugar. If he’s still enamoured by thunderstorms, dragging Hob outside to feel the rain on his skin, laughing hysterically as a bolt of lightning would crackle and shake the earth and getting pulled back inside by Hob, who would kiss him stupid afterwards, wet and smiling.

They had both been so young when they’d married. The fights had been small but constant. Little things that bubbled up into nonsense. And they hadn’t been ready for kids. But it felt like the natural next step. Their surrogate having twins was a shock for both of them.

But they had loved Orpheus and Robyn. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to keep them together.

Funny how, now that the boys had found each other, they were the ones pushing them back together.

[part two!]

[talktonytome]

could i ask for "paitently helping them put their shoes on" please?

“Hey, you ready to go?” Evan asks, walking back into the living room, as he pulls on his jacket. Tommy, who’s still sitting on the edge of the couch sighs in frustration. His shoes still aren’t on, on account of the shooting pain in his ribs every time he tries to bend down to pull them on and tie them.

“Almost, except- I can’t get my stupid shoes on,” he admits, hanging his head in embarrassment. “The stretch hurts my ribs every time I so much as think about it,” he mumbles.

He listens to the fall of Evan’s footsteps, as he walks over to him, feet coming into view; Tommy keeps his eyes on the floor. He feels Evan cup the side of his face and gently tilt his head up. Tommy squeezes his eyes shut, fearing he’ll see pity, but he should know better. When he finally does open them, after a deep breath, Evan’s looking at him with nothing but concern and affection.

“Tommy,” he murmurs. “You can ask for help, you know? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I thought I could do it by myself. I mean, a couple broken ribs, no biggie, right? We’ve both had worse,” Tommy huffs, but leans into the comfort of Evan’s touch.

“Oh sure, no biggie,” Evan shakes his head incredulously. “But that’s beside the point. You don’t have to be injured for me to take care of you, baby. I like taking care of you, just like you do for me,” be rubs a gentle thumb across Tommy’s cheekbone. “And it doesn’t make me feel weak o- or ashamed- the opposite actually. You make me feel so loved and cherished, so let me do the same for you,” he pleads softly.

Tommy’s throat grows tight with emotion. How he can he argue with that? Evan’s right; it’s what they do, take care of each other.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he turns his face to kiss Evan’s palm. “Sometimes, I forget I’m not on my lone wolf bullshit anymore.”

Evan laughs, throwing his head back. “Damn right. You have me now, and that won’t change, if I can help it. So, get used to it!”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Sunshine,” Tommy wonders, “but I sure am glad I have you.”

“I ask myself the same thing about you, so we’re even,” Evan declares. “I think the universe knew what it was doing, bringing us together.”

Tommy smiles at that. He doesn’t put much stock in predetermination, not the way Evan does. But, if soulmates are real, Evan is his. And the kind of thing they have, he doesn’t take for granted, knows it’s something they both work at, to make it.

When Evan kneels down and lovingly slips socks on Tommy’s feet, Tommy feels the waves of reverence in the action. He tries to hold back tears when Evan guides each foot into its shoe and ties the laces into neat little bows. A tear manages to slip free and rolls down his cheek, but Evan’s back on his feet in an instant, wiping it away before it hits his chin.

Evan doesn’t say anything, he just wraps those big arms around Tommy’s shoulders and drops a kiss to his hair. Tommy knows he just gets it, gets him and isn’t it beautiful, to not even need words?

[pitifulbaby]

damn shoes

summary: being pregnant and putting on shoes don’t usually mix well.

pairings: Steve Harrington x Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnancy, uhhh its pretty fluffy ngl

a/n: hello! so i haven’t written for the stranger things fandom though i’ve been in it for many a years, so this is a first! plus this is the first time writing in quite sometime, so it might be a little rusty. but i do hope you enjoy! 1.1k words

Pregnancy was, in theory- weird. Growing another human from your own body. Said human living inside your womb for nine months, completely moving each and every organ in your stomach to make room. The ‘morning’ sickness that was actually all day sickness that would be triggered by the most random things. Things you once enjoyed eating suddenly became the worst, and yet enjoying such an odd combination of food.  

But it would be worth it in the end, the endless mood swings, back pains, the kankles, the tossing and turning during the night struggling to find a comfortable way to sleep. The past nine months would seem like a piece of cake the moment you would be able to hold your baby in your arms.

But as of right now, the only thing that you could think about was the fact you couldn’t see your damn feet. Even as you were seated on your side of the bed, sneakers by your now sock clad feet- it was still a struggle to see them. Somehow, by some miracle you managed to put on your socks.

With a sigh you tilted your head to the side, watching the sunbeams as they entered through the slits of the blinds, creating little slivers of light against the carpeted floor. The sun had risen only a few hours ago, the summer sun creating overbearing heat that somehow felt even worse now that there was a human being created from your very body. The day ahead was gonna be a long one, shopping for baby furniture.

Just the thought of that made the fact of the matter even more real. In only three and a half more months your family of you and Steve would add a member. A teeny tiny member at that. Placing your hand on your bump you let your eyes look toward your sneakers. But soon your brain was fumbling over the fact that, how did you manage to put on your socks but not your shoes?

You had tried to put the shoes on while they were already tied, but that didn’t work. The ties were too tight and once you untied them to retie them, place them back on the ground and tried again- only for them once again to be too tight. And when you untied them and slipped them on, you couldn’t lift your leg high enough or lean down far enough to reach and tie said laces. And honestly you were too tired to try anymore ways. The pain in your lower back worsening each time you bent over, and over, and over. With a pout and a groan you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands, taking a break and trying to figure out how to put on your damn shoes, letting your hands fall back to your lap before once again- glaring at the black and white sneakers.

“Is there a reason you look like you are trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes at your shoes?” A voice rang out through the once quiet bedroom, with his hands on his hips- which was his usual stance, and towel slung over his shoulder was none other than your husband Steve. With a tilt of his head and leaning more on one side, causing his hip to jut out, he sends you a smile.

Replying with a huff you simply shrugged your shoulders. “If I glare at them enough, maybe they will magically levitate onto my feet.” You say simply, lip jutted out. Steve rolls his eyes with a quiet laugh, “Next time Henderson is over, you two aren’t allowed to watch Star Wars again.” He decides, taking the dish towel off of his shoulder and placing it onto the dresser before stepping towards where you sat, kneeling on one knee in front of you. “Dustin will have a field day when I tell him you think ‘magical levitation’ means Star Wars.” You said, your pout from before turning into a small smile.

“Is that not what they do?” He questioned, voice a little dramatic in hopes of making your smile wider, “The force is an energy field.” He once again rolls his eyes at your words, “Energy fields, magic- same thing.” He brushes off with a shrug before placing his left hand on your knee and letting his right hand cup the side of your face.

You let your eyes trail to the hand on your knee, reaching out and twisting the wedding ring on his finger that matched your own. “What’s going on, honey?” His voice was softer and more quiet than before, tilting his head to try and catch your eye. “I can’t put my shoes on, I tried everything and everyway.” You responded, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the confession, sniffling to try and will the tears away.

It felt embarrassing not being able to put on your sneakers!

As Steve felt your cheeks heat up he rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek, “Hey,” He cooed, you only responded with a huff, moving your hands to rub at your eyes with a pitiful, forced laugh. “It’s embarrassing, m’sorry.”

With a shake of his head that you couldn’t see, Steve was soon pulling your hands from your face, letting your hands fall to your lap once again as he now placed both hands on the sides of your face, leaning in closer with a small frown. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about, not with me.” Steve promised, words hushed and sincere. He then presses a kiss to your forehead, then leaned back.

He soon was grabbing your left shoe, holding it in his hand. “What are you doing?” You questioned, he hummed in response, placing a kiss to your knee before lifting your leg up a tad to slip the shoe on. “Skydiving,” He replies, which in turn causes you to laugh at his dry tone.

Your eyes were soft as you watched him tie your shoe, finding it adorable and endearing that Steve Harrington still had to use the bunny ear method to tie shoes. After the left shoe was on and tied he moved to the other shoe, repeating the previous actions before he leaned forward to speak to your stomach. “Listen, I get it, you gotta grow before you come out, but give your mom some slack.”

Before he can say anything else, said baby is kicking right where Steve had placed his hand. “I know you can hear me!” He says through a laugh, which in turn causes you to laugh. He then tilts his head back to look up at you, the way the light hits his eyes makes them look more golden than usual, the more you stare the more it reminds you of the sun shining through the blinds that you were looking at a few moments ago. After a moment that feels too long, you are pressing your lips to his.

Maybe not being able to put on your shoes was a good thing...

[stqrbxy]

[ 中也 ] chuuya nakahara x m! reader .

genre : smut but not in-depth.

t.w : suggestive themes.

sypnosis : you and chuuya missed each other deeply, so what's better than buying an absurdly expensive bottle of wine to soften him up??

author's note : this is hella confusing and bad.

"c'mere; there's plenty of space in my lap." + ready for another round?"

chuuya and you were both head executives of the most mafia, as well as the most important ones, so it was no wonder that you both were busy, that two could barely see each other throughout the day even though you both worked in the same penthouse.

so, you were coming back home from work, and you were thinking about chuuya, he was probably on another mission or stuffed with paperwork. but, you managed to finish all of your work for the week, so now you have the weekend all to yourself. you sighed slightly and continued to walk forwards, tugging on your coat to refrain it from getting breezed away by the end.

while you were on your way back home, you saw a wine shop on the way. and, they were known to sell good wine. so, you decided, why not buy some good wine for your husband after a long day of work?

you paid for the expensive bottle of wine, specifically chosen for his tastes, and headed out to your original destination once again. you looked at the time on your watch and saw a lot of time had passed by, by the time you carefully picked out his preferred taste. realizing, you walked faster and soon arrived at your shared penthouse.

you twisted open the doorknob and were greeted by lapis-coloured eyes, which quickly made their way onto yours

"i'm home." you smiled sweetly at him, then locked the door and proceeded to put the wine in the fridge and sit beside him on the couch, taking off your boot's laces elegantly and slowly.

"welcome home, sweetheart. i've missed you," he murmured gently and wrapped his hand around your waist and the other on your thigh. needy and desperate for you, but decided to be polite and not touch you inappropriately.

"i've missed you a lot too. how has work been going? you came home earlier than me." you chuckled and attempted to move away from his touch, attempting to put away your shoes, oh, but, how could chuuya let you go just when he's got your hands on you and after so long as well?

"stop being so cruel, I haven't even held you for a moment, yet you already want to leave." he scoffed like a child and let go of you, trying to prove as if he wasn't needy for your touch a moment ago.

"don't worry, let me freshen up then you can have me for as long as you want, happy?" you smirked at him mischievously after you washed your face and put away your shoes, but your thigh-high socks were still on, unbeknownst to him as your oversized pants were covering them.

"fine. c'mere, there's plenty of space in my lap for you to sit." he grinned back, in the same mischievous manner and patted his thigh for you to sit on. you gladly moved onto his lap, teasingly rubbing your crotch on his thigh as you felt him getting harder.

"god, angel, I've missed you so fucking much. i missed your voice, your touch, your words and you." he needy groaned and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

"missed too, chuu. ah, i've forgotten to tell you, I got you a bottle of 1964 Romanée-Conti. And, don't worry about where I got it from, let's say I have my sources." you smirked at him as he removed his head from your neck and looked at you with slightly widened eyes and a slight blush plastered over his face. 'How cute.' you thought to yourself.

"the hell? oh my god — thank you so much? what the fuck? how can I repay you?" he swooned over you. he was so grateful for someone like you, who'd buy him a wine worth three million fucking yen. that's half of your salary and two-thirds of his. but, it didn't matter to you, what the price may be. because, to you, he was worth more than ten bottles of expensive wine. the funny thing is, you always knew that gift-giving, was sure to touch his heart.

"you don't have to, but~ if you wish to, perhaps there's something that you can do." you ended it suggestively and shifted on his lap every moment or so, merely to rile him up.

"please, tell me." god, chuuya begging, just for you? you really should've seen his hands on your waist, desperate to touch you further.

you smirked at him merely, dragged him softly into the bedroom and threw him on the bed, making sure not to hurt him. he gasped softly and blushed even more, waiting for you to do or say something; you pushed him down on the bed with your hand on his chest.

"well then, do I have your consent to do anything i'd like to do to you tonight?~" you shot him another smirk before and looked deep into his lapis blue eye, waiting for a response.

"yes, yes — please, use me, anything you want, ruin me, god, I fuckin' need you so badly."

oh dear, you both were definitely in for a hell of a night.

so, you were coming back home from work, and you were thinking about chuuya. chuuya was probably on another mission or stuffed with paperwork. but, you managed to finish all of your work for the week, so now you have the weekend all to yourself. you sighed slightly and continued to walk forwards, tugging on your coat to refrain it from getting breezed away by the end.

while you were on your way back home, you saw a wine shop on the way. and, they were known to sell good wine. so, you decided, why not buy some good wine for your husband after a long day of work?

you paid for the expensive bottle of wine, specifically chosen for his tastes, and headed out to your original destination once again. you looked at the time on your watch and saw a lot of time passed by already. therefore, you walked faster and soon arrived.

you twisted open the door knob and were greeted by lapis-coloured eyes, which quickly made their way onto yours and then to the bag you were holding.

"i'm home." you smiled sweetly at him, then locked the door and proceeded to put the wine in the fridge and sit beside him on the couch, taking off your boot's laces elegantly and slowly.

"welcome home, sweetheart. i've missed you," he murmured gently and wrapped his hand around your waist and the other on your thigh. needy and desperate for you, but decided to be polite.

"i've missed you a lot too, how's work been going? you came home earlier than me." you chuckled and attempted to move away from his touch, attempting to put away your shoes, oh, but, how could chuuya let you go just when he's got your hands on you, after so long as well?

"stop being so cruel, I haven't even held you for a moment and you already want to leave." he scoffed, like a child and let go of you, trying to prove as if he wasn't needy for your touch a moment ago.

"don't worry, let me freshen up and you can have me for as long as you want, happy?" you smirked at him mischievously after you washed your face and put away your shoes, but your thigh-high socks were still on, unbeknownst to him as your oversized pants were covering them.

"fine. c'mere, there's plenty of space in my lap for you to sit." he grinned back, in the same mischievous manner and patted his thigh for you to sit on. you gladly moved onto his lap, teasingly rubbing your crotch on his thigh as you felt him getting harder.

"god, angel, I've missed you so fucking much. i missed your voice, your touch, your words and you." he needy groaned and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

"missed too, chuu. ah, i've forgotten to tell you, I got you a bottle of 1964 Romanée-Conti. And, don't worry about where I got it from, let's say I have my sources." you smirked at him as he removed his head from your neck and looked at you with slightly widened eyes and a slight blush plastered over his face. 'How cute.' you thought to yourself.

"the hell? oh my god — thank you so much? what the fuck? how can I repay you?" he absolutely swooned over you. he was so grateful for someone like you, who'd buy him a wine worth three million fucking yen. that's literally half of your salary and two-thirds of his. but, it didn't matter to you, what the price may be. because, to you, he was worth more than ten bottles of expensive wine.

"you don't have to, but~ if you wish to, perhaps there's something that can be done." you ended it suggestively and shifted on his lap every moment or so, just to rile him up.

"please, tell me." god, chuuya begging, just for you? you should've seen his hands on your waist, desperate to touch you further.

you smirked at him merely and dragged him softly into the bedroom and threw him on the bed, making sure not to hurt him. he gasped softly and blushed even more, waiting for you to do or say something.

you pushed him down on the bed with your hand on his chest.

"well then, do I have your consent to do anything i'd like to do to you tonight?~" you shot him another smirk before and looked deep into his lapis blue eye, waiting for a response.

"yes, yes — please, use me, whatever, you want, ruin me, god, I fuckin' need you so badly."

oh boy, you both were definitely in for a kinky night.

[thatbanditqueen]

Little Blue Toes

An Elvis-o-Ween 2023 One-shot

A response to the writing prompt "Fall or Halloween".

Comments, concerns and feedback very much appreciated!

like @be-my-ally I sat down to write this today and it got lengthy and I decided to publish it raw....

This is my first time writing from Elvis' perspective, and my first time delving into the supernatural genre... But I just had no idea how to write this story from any other perspective. I was very inspired by the amazing work @peskybedtime and @shakerattlescroll did a few weeks ago writing from Elvis' pov.

Big thanks to my elvis coven @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows for their help and support in the fic writing world....

This story is very loosely based on Scotty Moore's history of this show where Elvis reportedly stomped off after four songs and skipped the evening gig.

Summary: It is the summer of 1955, and Elvis and his band are back on a grueling tour schedule. Their first stop out of Memphis is Batesville, AR. The crowd is not kind, the venue is uncomfortable, and so Elvis decides to take off and make his own trouble. Along the way, he comes across a young women who is having an equally bad afternoon, and they find that spending the rest of the day in each other's company might be just the solace they were searching for.

WC: 5.8 K

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut, supernatural elements, coarse language. Typos....

Happy Elvis-o-Ween.......

4 p.m. Saturday August 6, 1955 

River Stadium, Batesville, Arkansas 

Elvis looked back over his shoulder at where Scotty stood, watching as the wooden platform they were on swayed up and down with the river’s tide.  This had to be one of the trickiest venues they’d come upon this summer and the floating stage made it damn near impossible to move around the way Elvis liked to when he sang.

“A goddamn two-bit raft, is what this is, fellas.” Elvis spit to his right as he swore under his breath, and turned back to his mic.

They had only played two songs so far, starting straight away with "That’s Alright Mama” and “Blue Moon of Kentucky” to try and get the crowd’s energy up with. They still had the rest of this afternoon set and another one at 7,  but Elvis was already drenched from his head down to his toes in sweat. Quite literally. His socks had soaked up the steady stream of water rolling down his legs, and it made his feet squish into his white leather dress shoes as he shifted from side-to-side to get his bearing. Thank god for this white lace shirt, he could stay cool and look sharp no matter how wet he got.

Not that it mattered how he looked, weren’t a cute girl in sight. Elvis looked out at the crowd of people who had meandered over from the main carnival across the street. Most of them were older, farmers and their wives, and a few families. There was only a handful of young folks in the stands, but he figured, from the shrieks and laughter he could hear, that most of the teenagers were up at the fair. He wished he was up there too,  shooting racing ducks or knocking down milk bottles, stead of singing for these frowning old fuddy duddies.

It was a disappointing follow up to their show at the Overton Shell the night before, half of Memphis had shown up after Dewey put out the word on Red, White and Blue. Boy, it had been a great night. Looking down at Dixie’s familiar face in the front row had been reassuring and made him feel at home, filling him up with the confidence he needed to back on tour for two months.

And boy were they kicking out off with a bang. Elvis frowned as he considered what a sad, sorry show this was to begin the tour. He didn’t understand where their fans were. Sam had said their records were selling like hotcakes in Arkansas, and now that the Colonel was getting involved, promotion was supposed to be even better. But the way this audience stared back at him, he’d never know that he was making it as big as Sam or Bob or the Colonel told him he was.

Elvis ran his hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face, and looked over at where their manager, Bob stood, off to the side of the stage trying to smile encouraging. That fat fuck, booking us on this goddamn plank o’ wood in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. Bob’s smile got bigger as Elvis pursed his lips. This whole operation is a fuckin’ disgrace. He couldn’t hear a damn thing once they started playing, the music evaporated out to to the concrete amphitheater across from them and he had no clue if his singing matched anything Bill, Scotty and DJ played. Sighing, he thought maybe it was time for a joke to punch up the crowd. So he hugged his guitar and winked at Bill.

Bill pulled his mic closer. “Hey Elvis, you seen all the pretty little girls in this here town?”

“Why sure, Bill, this town’s got some a sweetest gals this side o the Miss’ippy.”

“Well, this red headed cutie stopped me on my way on stage, grabbed my arm and said, ‘Hiya, stud, how about a bite tonight after the show?"

Elvis mugged for the audience. “Well, whatcha say, Bill?”

“Well, Elvis, I said, I’m busy after the show, honey, but I ain’t doin’ nothin’ now.’ Sos’s I bit her.” Bill followed his punchline with a big grows and a few gnawing sounds.

It was a good joke, it made Elvis laugh out loud every time Bill did it, but the crowd didn’t seem to even register how clever they were. The barge creaked up and down, and Elvis took a deep sigh, announcing out the next song.

“Well, speaking a cute lil gals, this next song, friends, is a hit we just had called Baby, Let's Play House, I hope you like it.”

Elvis closed his eyes, blocking out the dull, blank faces in front of him as he tried to stay balanced, shaking his hips and bopping his left knee up and down to help him keep time with the melody. The stage ebbed up and down, so instead of pacing the front, or doing some of the moves he usually did, Elvis gripped the mic and leaned down to croon the final refrain.

Baby, baby, baby b-b-b-b-b baby, baby baby, baby baby baby, Come back, baby, I wanna play house wit yoooooou

A few little bitty kids started doing a square dance at the front, and he looked up to see one or two teens walking into the stands. But overall, the energy was dead and it was killing his confidence.

“Uh, al right folks, we got many more good songs comin’ up, I jus know ya gonna enjoy our hit ‘I Don't Care (If The Sun Don't Shine).’ Which we’ll play in a hot second. But uh, well, we , uh we, uh - here’s ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight.’”

Elvis really gave it his all and said fuck it to the floating stage, wigging and thrusting his hips up to bolster his diaphragm as he dug deep to find the strength to scream into the powder blue afternoon sky. He opened his eyes, still hardly any movement from the crowd.

“Wouldn’t know a rockin’ tune if it hit them in the face,” he muttered under his breath, and Bill, sensing that the younger man’s mood was turning sour, started another joke.

“Hey Elvis, you know that chick I was talkin’ bout ealier?”

“Uh, yeah Bill? The one ya tried ta et?”

“Yeah, well, you’d a think that a scared her off, but man, these Batesville babies, y’all are fearless, man. Fear-lessss. Why, she begged me to ditch y’all and go home with her right away.”

“Oh man, Bill, whatcha say to that?”

“I said heyyy, baby, the heck are you begging for? You're old enough to ask for it.”

Elvis guffawed loudly, looking out at the audience.

“You’re a good man, Billiam, teachin’ that lil gal some manners.”

The sun was in Elvis’ eyes and he couldn’t see anyone’s face, so he just kept talking, sure of his humor.

“Heck, y’all can send us all ya unmarried womenfolk and we’ll do our best to teach ‘em somethin’. We’re stayin’ at the Wagon Wheel motel, jus down the street. Send any married gals who need a lesson our way too, we ain’t picky.”

A man stood up in the front row.

“Y’all should be ashamed, talkin’ filth like that out here. Ain’t Christian! An it t’aint right!”

The sun started to go down, and now Elvis could see clearly as a few others joined the man to boo them. He looked over at Bob, then back at the band. The guys just shrugged, and Bob yelled out to try and calm the crowd.

“Aw, now, the boy was just joshin, friends, just joshing’ now,  so if you’ll -”

“Play in the ‘Jailhouse Now’!”

“Play some Eddy Arnold or Red Foley!”

“Go back to the city and your sinful ways!”

A fire started to pulsate up Elvis’ belly, he clenched his fists in anger and couldn’t control the need to leave, right there and then, before he embarrassed himself in front of these people.

“Aw, nuts to this, Bobbert.”  Elvis pulled his guitar strap over his head and pushed the instrument into Bob’s arms. Then he grabbed his white sports jacket and jumped to shore, muttered to himself all the way.

 “Goddamn alfalfa farmers. Ain’t ever comin’ back here, boy, you can bet dollars to doughnuts on that I guarantee it.”

His anger kept his feet beating the ground for a while, but the midday sun soon turned to dusk and with it came the cooling effect of space and time. Elvis looked up to find that he had stalked a good ways down the river, and the path he walked along was now all packed red dirt lined with tall prairie grass and trees. Regret settled over him, and he kicked a pebble around wondering how upset Bob was gonna be with him. Or the fellas. He hoped that they knew what was up, that they understood what a shit show this gig was. It wasn’t his fault. He had done the only reasonable thing he could do if a crowd didn’t like him.

After all, it was Bob’s fault for booking them on a floating raft at a stupid hick carnival in the first place. He looked at his watch, it was past 6, and they had a 7 p.m. evening show. Elvis clicked his tongue, wondering if he should go back to the motel or wait and show up back at the stage just before 7. Give Bob a good scare. These thoughts, however, were soon interrupted by a loud call for help from the river. A woman’s yell.

Elvis ran to the river bank and spotted the screaming woman, grasping onto a rock as she tried to stop the current from carrying her downstream. He ran over and grabbed her hand, then grasped under her armpits to pull her out completely. Her white gown was so heavy, with layers and layers of wet crinoline underneath, that it caused him to fall back on the grass underneath her. Elvis lay there for a moment, panting as the girl clung to his chest. Her short brown bob was plastered to her head, and she sputtered water all over him as she caught her breath. On her hands were a pair of long, satin evening gloves that were lined with rhinestones sewn along the ridge. Looking her over, he realized her whole gown was shimmering in the dark with rhinestones.

“Like a twinkling angel sent down just for me.” He whispered, unaware he had said it out loud until the girls lips curled in to a smile, and she  pushed herself up.

“Ha, you’re the angel, rescuing me.” She patted his chest. “And now I got you all wet.”

Elvis followed her with his body as she began to sit up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it round her.

“Oh, it ain’t no thang, miss. I like being covering in all your wet. I mean - I uh, well it - uh - it t’aint nothin’ is all. Here, you must be freezing.”

She giggled, as she drew his coat around her shoulders. “Not with you to warm me up.”

“Oh, I can do better than jus an old jacket.” He put his hands at her waist, looking into her eyes as he began to rub her sides up and down. “That ok, honey? Gosh, getting so dark out here, can’t tell if you have brown or green eyes?”

“Hazel.”

“Well, that splits the difference, don’ it.”

“Ha, well, they are hazel, but that’s also my name. Figured we should get acquainted, seein’ as you probably already know my measurements.”

Hazel chuckled as Elvis blushed. “Uh, well, they are some pretty fine measurements, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

“No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all, in fact, you could hold me all day, I’m just so grateful you came along. Thought I was gonna drown.”

“Yeah, hey, say what were you doing going for a swim at this time of day.”

“Ha, dressed like this? It was not by choice, trust me - um - ?”

“Uh, oh yeah, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley, pleased to meet you.”

Hazel looked down at where her lap straddling him and shivered. Their bodies were so close, that Elvis could feel the icy chill of her skin press down on him through his pants.

“Should I take you somewhere I can get you out of these clothes and in to someone warm, I mean into somethin’ warm?”

Hazel stood, handing him his jacket, as she stripped down to her sheer, white slip, tossing the soaking dress, crinoline and gloves onto the grassy hill near where they were sitting.

Elvis let out a whistle.

“Huh, I didn’t mean here, but man’o man, you won’t see me complainin’. Best show I been to all day.”

He stood up, wrapping her back in the now semi damp jacket, his fingers lingering at her waist, and then trailing over her cheek as he stared at her pale, white milky skin. It seemed almost iridescent Elvis in the low dusk of twilight.

“You feel a little more dry, but still too cold. Wanna go back to my motel and warm up?”

Hazel nodded, and let him lead the way. Once they got to the dirt path, he told her to jump on his back, explaining he didn’t want her lil feetsies to get all dirty, so Hazel perched over him as she navigated them back to town. It was well past 8 o’clock by the time he was sneaking her into his room, hoping that the others either weren’t back, or didn’t hear them. He looked at the clock and sighed.

“Oh well, guess I missed that show too.”

“What’s that?” Hazel asked, as she made her way past his out stretched arm and into the Wagon Wheel’s bright orange technicolor western-themed room.

“Aw, nothing. Say, you sure I can’t take you to get some clean clothes, or shoes? You from here or jus - ”

Elvis gulped and lost his train of mind as he watched Hazel sashay over to the sink and help herself to his toilette. He could see the outline of her white panties through her slip, and in the mirror, a set of pink nipples peeking through the front. It made him half aroused just watching her as she leant over the sink and used his make-up without asking.

“Trying to get rid of me? Don’t you like the way I look?” Hazel simpered with a pout as she turned to find Elvis mouth gaping open in awe at her. He put his hands on his hips to look cool, but missed them completely, unable to find them because he was so distracted by her beauty. He rested them at the top of his thighs instead, which he told himself also looked very cool. Very suave.

“I, uh, um, uh - I. Course I think you look good, suga.”

He heard his words crack and paused to take a deep breath and deepen his voice. Reminding himself to be the ladykiller he knew he was. This gal was half naked and in his motel room, for chrissakes. Clearly, she dug him.

“I mean, yes, lil girl, you look good. Real good. Just worried bout how it will look like when I drive you home in the morning.” He winked and shifted from side to side, raising his eye brow and working very hard not to smile. Only dweebs smiled. Not studs like him.

“You’re sweet, you know, Elvis?” Hazel grinned up at him, as she walked to his wardrobe, and, to his dismay, started putting on some of his clothes. “Can I borrow this shirt and pants? I love pink lace. Look, we match!”

“Well, yeah, baby, whatever you want, but I mean, uh, those are men’s clothes, and well, ugh, they might smell like my cologne or something. Sure I can’t take you back to your place so you can at least grab something more ladylike?”

“No, honestly. I bet there are a lot of folks running around looking for me, I’d rather avoid the fray, if you know what I mean.”

Elvis walked over, as she hooked his pink striped belt extra tight so that she looked  like a hobo, or pirate, the way his pants bunched up around her waist. Her slip was like a chemise, and with his white sports coat, Hazel was like Marlene Dietrich, but instead of a tuxedo, she was wearing his white suit with a pink, lace top. His fingers rubbed her side.

“You ok? Running away from something? Someone?”

Hazel nodded, as his arms circled around her. “You could say that. I’m the Carnival Queen, I was supposed to arrive at the amphitheater down on the river -

“I am well familiar with that floating hunk o junk.”

“Ha, well, I broke up with my fiancee yesterday. See, I decided I don’t wanna get married, I don’t wanna live in this town any more, and he does. He wants a wife, two and a half kids, the whole shebang. Anyway, he asked me to meet him at Stamper’s Bridge before the Carnival ceremony, and, gosh, boy did we get into it, I mean, we really had it out.”

“Did he push you in the river? Cuz if he did, I’m gonna kill him.”

“No. At least I don’t think he meant to, it was all such a blur. But then, he didn’t jump in to help me neither. Now I bet my family and half the town are running round, wondering why I didn’t show up to the crowning ceremony.”

Elvis rubbed her shoulder, sshhhing her. He was conflicted between getting up and punching the wall, and staying there to comfort this sweet, helpless lil girl who fate had placed in his care.

Hazel buried her head in her hands. “Ugh, it is all just so embarrassing. Rather just deal with it tomorrow.” 

Elvis picked her up and spoke softly to her as he put her on the bed and began to rub her feet. “Man, your little toesies are so cold, baby, they blue.” He kissed the top of her feet, blowing on them. “Ta warm ‘em up.” Then he rolled clean, silky pink socks over them. 

“Reckon these white loafers are too big for you, but at least they match ya outfit. Must be weird, wearing men’s clothing for the first time.”

Hazel smiled as she folded the top of her pink socks down to her ankles. “That’s ok. Suddenly I feel much more confident, like I could rule the world. Or understand math better.”

“Ha!  You’re funny, you know that, lil Blue Toesies? These shoes do make me feel like I could conquer the world, though.”

She leaned closer to where he was kneeled between her legs. “You’re a sweet guy, Elvis. Would it be ok - could I  - can I stay with you tonight?”

“Sho, honey, you the boss.” Elvis leaned closer to her, nuzzling her forehead with his nose. “Oh baby, why, you’re still cold as ice. Let’s go get you some food,  any wheres ‘round here have good chili and hot coffee? That’ll get ya blood flowing ‘gain. Or, I have some other idea - ”

“ Stop! Let’s  go to Mac’s Coffee shop, they have the best chili con carne in town.”

“Well, alright lil gal.” He intentionally used his deep, sexy voice as he stood, and his affect made Hazel giggle. “C’mon now, quiet ya cackling and show this hongry boy - I mean man, honnngry man,  the way.”

The walk to Mac’s was not far, but Elvis kept his eyes peeled for Bill, Scotty or Bob, because he knew that they would be pissed that he had stormed off stage. Then missed the second show. He could hear Bob’s voice telling him it wasn’t professional behavior. Then he’d tell Bob what time it was, yes sireee, he’d set him straight. He just didn’t want to have that confrontation now. In front of a lady. He squeezed Hazel’s hand tight, and nearly fell off the curb at one point when he was sure he saw Bob from behind as they entered the coffee shop. But he’d been wrong.

Hazel had been correct, Mac’s did have the best chili con carne. The fact that it didn’t have any onions, unless you ordered them as one of your fixins’ sealed the deal for Elvis, and he licked his spoon with his last mouthful, then ordered two chili dogs and an side of fries.

“I’m a growing boy.” He smacked his lips and wiggled his eyes at Hazel’s and squeezing her waist.

The guy on the other side of the counter walked by again and gave them a curious stare, his eyes lingering on Hazel as if he recognized her, but wasn’t sure.

Elvis nodded his head at him. “What’s his deal, he keeps looking over atcha?”

“I guess it’s not every day he see’s a girl with my amazing taste in fashion.”

“You do look good in my clothes.” Elvis smirked. “Look even better out of ‘em.”

“You’re a naughty boy, Elvis Presley.”

Hazel pinched his knee, and their eyes locked in a tender gaze. It felt to Elvis as if they had been lovers for years, not strangers who had just met. She had an open heart, like him, he could tell. And a sense of humor. He almost asked her to marry him then and there. But then he remembered that Bob had told him to stop doing that on tour, it wasn’t professional. So, instead, he had  learned other nice stuff he thought made girls happy.

“Gosh ya so pretty. Can’t believe I met such a pretty gal today, this way. Feels bad to call it luck. But that’s how I feel, Baby Blue Toes. Lucky.”

“Aw, I - I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the pretty girls ones I fish outta rivers.”

“Ha! You are funny. You’re a funny boy.” She blushed as he swing his chair around to hit her knees against his. “What do you do, funny boy? Are you a traveling salesman?”

Elvis laughed and stood up momentarily, motioning to his outfit. “What about these clothes says traveling salesman to you, baby doll?” He pulled on his white lace shirt. “I’m a singer, me and my band, well, we were here performing at the Carnival.”

“Ever on the radio?”

Elvis took a long sip of his coffee, eyeing the rest of the coffee shop. It was mostly empty, with another couple at one of the booth’s in the back, and then a Black man drinking coffee over on the side of the counter marked for “Black Folks Only.”  Elvis nodded when he looked up from his newspaper, then whispered to Hazel.

“Uh huh. Ever heard ‘That’s Alright Mama’?”

Hazel hit him, and squeaked. “Yes!” The other patrons looked other, and Elvis grinned awkwardly. “It came out last month, didn’t it?”

“Na uh, baby. Why, it’s been spinning on the radio for over a year. Maybe you just ain’t listened at the right time. Better late than never, I s’pose.”

“Sing something for me?”

“Here?”

“Why not? You’re leaving town, you’ll never see any of these people again. Could be the only night we have together. Why not, who cares what anyone thinks?”

Elvis shook his head, his eyes laughing as he jumped up, and walked over to the juke box with a cocksure swagger. Hazel laughed when she heard the opening of that old Mel Torme record, Blue Moon. Elvis leaned against the juke box and called out to her across the restaurant.

“Better get that sweet little butt over here, Hazel, if you wanna hear me sing.”

Hazel looked at the guy behind the register, shrugged apologetically, and then jumped up to join him. Elvis took her hand, massaging it with his own, trying to get rid of the chill that lingered through Hazel’s extremities. Then he put his hand at her waist, and lead her in a small circle, swaying, as he sang along to the tune. Changing the words, of course.

Blue Toes, you saw me standing alone

With out a dream in my heart, without any wet clothes on

Hazel’s laughter was infectious, Elvis wanted to do whatever he had to keep her laughing. Her smile lit up her face, her whole body, and it didn’t matter that she was only wearing a little mascara, with over sized clothes bunched up at her waist. She was the most lovely, ethereal creature he had ever seen. As they walked back to the hotel, he gaped in awe at the way her skin glittered like faery dust in the light of the harvest moon. They talked and talked as Hazel held his hand, leading him around the town square, pointing to the clothing store her family owned, asking him if he liked singing and what he wanted out of life.

Back at the motel, he closed the door softly behind them as a quiet nervousness worked up his back. He looked her in the eyes.

“Everythin’”

“Everything?”

“That’s what I want, I reckon it sounds silly, but I growed up without much. Now, I want everythin’ I ain’t never had. All the cars, jewelry, houses, girls - everythin’”

Hazel nodded. “Makes sense.”

“You?” His face was shy, and he leaned against the door lock, trying to read the situation and his next move.

“I don’t know. I just want to be in the moment. And right now, Elvis Presley.” Hazel put her arms around him, and closed her eyes. It made all the blood rush to his penis to have her lean on him this way, looking so innocent as she answered him in a breathy, low voice. “I just want you.”

He helped her take off his clothes as he carried her to the bed in her slip.  “Oh baby, I feel the same way.”

She tasted like chili spice and coffee, and her whole body shivered with a chill. Elvis rubbed her up and down, over her hips, her legs, the sides of her ribs. Then he crawled over her to warm her with his body heat, and his eyes closed as he felt her knee go up between his legs.

“Goddamn.” He muttered, grazing over it delicately at first, then grinding harder.

He cupped her face.

“Are you ok?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Tell me to stop, at anytime, ok, baby? Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want me to.”

Hazel nodded, her mouth hung open and longing animating her eyes. They were like two jewels affixed to the top of a beautiful, pale ivory tower. A tower he wanted to climb. Her skin was still cool,  it and soothed the volcano boiling underneath his calm, steady visage.

Her lips twitched apart as his fingers delicately made their under her slip, and he arched his eyebrow in a silent request as he started to work her panties off.

Bill, Scotty and DJ must have just gotten back, because he heard a group go into Scotty’s room and begin pounding the wall before they burst into a fit of drunken giggles.

“Don’t listen ta them, that’s my band. Those jackasses is jus teasin.”

“It’s ok, it’s ok. I know what it’s like to have friends.”

Elvis grinned down into Hazels warm, inviting smile as his lips ghosted over hers. He could feel her lashes mingle with his and it was so perfect, he didn’t want to spoil the moment, he wanted to remember her like this forever. So he took it slow. Pressing into her mouth gradually, stretching out this first contact for as long as he could. Then breathing into her mouth as it cracked apart, and sinking onto her bottom lip to caress over it back and forth, flicking the tip of his tongue inside.

His fingers slipped inside her labia, and looked around until he found her button. It made her moan out, loudly, even though Elvis was still awkwardly fumbling his way around the clitoris, trying to figure out how to touch it in a way that got her to moan out again.

“That ok, honey?”

“Uh huh, just, just a little to the left, softer, softer, oh god!”

He laughed in her neck, satisfied at his machinations, then sat back, spreading her labia so he could watch what he was doing. He spit into his hand, like Bill and Scotty had told him to do, like he had with other girls. The wetter the better, Bill had said, drives women wild the you get that button at the top of their cooch all slippery and fiddle with it.

“How’s that?”

Hazel opened her eyes and looked up at him, her eyes rolling back as he moved his thumb back and forth on the side of her little nub.

“It feels really good. I - I never had anyone touch me, not like this. Never had anyone ask how I liked it, neither. And, well, I never go to third base with someone I just met.”

Elvis kissed her on the check. “S’destiny, honey. I was meant to find you today. Meant to make you feel good.”

Her hand went to his groin, and palmed over the stiff length she found there. She paused at his belt.

“I believe you were. How about you, Elvis, can I make y-y-you feel g-g-g-ood?”

Elvis stilled her hand. “Ya are, honey, ya are. Doin’ this makes me feel good.”

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Elvis smiled as he found a spot that made Hazel quiver when he flicked over it, and around it, and back and forth beside it. With a tentative glance, upward, he bent down and parted her lips, kissing her public hair as he affectionately began to lick over where his finger had been. Hazel cried out, arching her back and thrusting further in to his face at the sensation.

Elvis laughed in to her as his hands moved to hold her steady. The succession of breathy moans his tongue elicited was so exciting, he could feel his foreskin roll up against his trousers. Diving between Hazel’s legs was like jumping into a cool creek back in Tupelo on a hot July day. It was sweet and soothing, and he chased the cool taste of summer that he found there, flattening his tongue against her as he worked to figure out how to make her moan out again.

He felt her tremble, and looked up to see  her face contort in to a thousands states of pleasure. Watching her come undone and cry out her release as she convulsed around his head sent Elvis over the edge.  He felt his own dam burst below where his hips rocked back and forth over the bed spread and shuddered his release into the side of his pants. Heaving, he collapsed into her waist while his hands now moved languidly over her cool belly and the room was still save for the sounds of their shattered breath.

The boys had obviously heard them and clanging against the wall again, crying out Oh Elvis! in high, falsetto voices.

Elvis grimaced as he climbed up the bed to lay next to Hazel and wiped his mouth on his arm before pulling her into him.

“Trust me, I am gonna kill those boys tomorra.”

She rolled on to his chest with her eyes closed and a big, sated smile on her face.

“Aw, they love you, Elvis. They only tease you because they love you.”

‘Huh. Maybe.” He soothed her head, and brought the blanket over them as they settled deeper in to the bed. “Aw honey, still feel kinda chilly. Wish I didn’t have to leave, wish I could stay with you forever, keep you warm. We’re the perfect fit, you know that? Everyone always tells me I run hot, and well, you, you run cold.”

“I know you have to go. Maybe I’ll see you at one of your engagements. I think I’m gonna move to Little Rock, ever go through there?”

Elvis kissed her head and wrapped his arms around her tight. “You better believe it, go through Little Rock every tour. Wanna see you there, right at the front of the stage.”

He squeezed her to him even closer, enjoying the way she rubbed over his lace shirt as they drifted off to sleep talking about nothing and everything.

It was 10 or so the next morning when Elvis awoke to find his bed empty and the clothes she had worn strewn throughout the room. He rubbed his head. “Did she walk home barefoot? In a slip?” He muttered to himself as he changed his clothes and went to pound on the boys motel rooms so they could all go forage for breakfast together.

The men gave him a hard time, rubbing his head and asking how many little girls he had in his room that night. They didn’t mention the performance, as if they had previously agreed to let Bob handle that one.

Elvis shoveled another mouthful of his biscuits and gravy into his mouth as he tried to describe Hazel to them. “You boys don’t understand, she was like an angel sent from heaven just for me. I gotta see her again.”

A waitress went by with a pot of coffee, and Elvis grabbed her wrist, motioning for a refill. As she clucked an “ouch, alright alright” at him, he had an idea and spoke to her with a mouth full of biscuity sausagey gravy.

“Scuze me ma’am, you wouldn’t happen to know the name of the Carnival Queen, would you? Hazel? Hazel sumpin’? Folks own the small department store off tha square ova there?”

The waitress’ face went ashen and she shook her head before stomping away.

“What’s up her butt?”

The older man sitting on the other side of Bill leaned over.

“Y’all must be confused. Hazel Stein was the Carnival Queen last year, and what happened to her was a tragedy. A damn waste of a pretty little girl.”

Elvis’ mouth hung open, and he looked to Bill and Scotty. “Nah, can’t be. I just met her. Hazel, you say, the Carnival Queen?”

“Yup.” The old man nodded. “Fell in to the river and drowned. Why, musta been a year ago yesterday.”

Elvis head spun, and he nearly choked. She had been real, she must have been. He could still smell her scent of summer on his face and hands.

**************************************************************

so this is a one-shot, and I'll just take a stab in the dark at a tag-list. Let me know if you would like to be removed or added to one-shots or holiday/season whatnots and so forths.

@moonchild-daniella @ashtag6887 @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @freudianslumber @dkayfixates @kingdomforapony @j-v-9-2 @literally-just-elvis-fics @ab4eva @i-r-i-n-a-a @horror-movieshoes @everythingelvispresley @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @tacozebra051 @notstefaniepresley @lillypink @jessicarcates

[ghoul-foolery]

Flufftober, Day 13

Clothes On / Snow day

Prompt List - Kink/Flufftober Master List

//

> Snow Day > Hancock/Nora >Tags: Fluff > Words: 859

//

The cold was inescapable.

It was the type of cold that sank down to the bones, it chilled muscle and blood and made existing just south of miserable. Retreating inside didn’t even make it better. There was no heat. The icy chill of radioactive winter sank into the ancient bones of the State House, too.

Nora’s feet were always cold; even when she layered on threadbare socks, and kept her feet in her boots. The only time she seemed to get properly warm was when she and everyone else in Goodneighbor congregated to the barrell fires that appeared in the street right along with the first chill of winter.

The only other time was with Hancock.

The first time he welcomed Nora into his lap it was awkward. Hunkered down on the couch in his office, wrapped in blankets and sniffling from the cold, Nora would have been ready to fight when he first pulled the blankets away from her if she wasn’t freezing. Before she could even manage to swear at him, Hancock pulled her into his lap and draped the blanket over the two of them.

Hancock burned a little hotter than the average man. He didn’t have an answer for why. He chalked it up to some ghoul thing. But from that time, and anytime thereafter, Hancock was willing to share a blanket, share a bed.

And that’s where she found herself when Hancock shook her shoulder and roused her from sleep. The room was still dark — or it was until he flicked on the flashlight on her Pip-Boy.

She grimaced and recoiled under the covers.

“Nora? Hey, babe, c’mon.”

“No you come back to bed,” Nora grumbled in reply. “It’s still dark, what are you even doing?”

“Will you just get up?”

The covers were pulled back and Nora groaned fitfully, her body tucking into a tight coil as she tried to preserve warmth. Her toes almost immediately succumbed to the chill of the room, and she hated that. She’d been warm, and cozy, and asleep and Hancock disrupted the whole damn thing.

“Hancock, please…”

“No chance, Sunshine. Get up.”

“Is it important?”

“Like so fucking important.”

“Do I need my gun?”

“No.”

“Can’t be that important then.”

“Nora…” The low drawl in his voice sounded borderline dangerous. It was a sound she had come to associate being kissed breathless, with wandering hands and the warm press of naked bodies.

Or tickling. It could also lead to prodding fingers along her ribs, and breathless begging of a different sort…

“Okay, okay…” Nora sat up slowly, and was instantly greeted to her vault suit being pressed into her hands.

“Get dressed, put your shoes on, and meet me in my office.”

He left the room, closing the door behind him. The cold of the room helped Nora get dressed in record time. She dressed in layers, throwing on some old thermals and thick woolen socks before slipping into her vault suit. Then she laced herself into her boots. By the time she left Hancock’s room her fingers were starting to feel the first pangs of cold.

The office door was open, filling the landing with light. Hancock stood just beyond the mirrored couches and the coffee table. He was at the counter. His back was to her, stirring the steaming contents of two ceramic mugs. There was a quilt folded up, resting just off to the side.

“So what are you up to, mister mayor?”

He looked back over his shoulder, greeting her with one of his slanted smiles.

“Hey, just in time. Come get the blanket will you?”

Nora did, immediately tucking her hands into the fabric. With the mugs clasped in his hands, Hancock tossed his head towards the balcony door. She was on the verge of complaining, making some comment about being pulled from bed to go out into the damn cold, but she didn’t.

Nora stepped side as she opened the door, letting Hancock step out into the frigid night. Nora followed a beat later— it was snowing. It was coming down in big fluffy flakes. It coated the ground, leaving the streets of Goodneighbor cold and sparkling under a blanket of untouched snow.

“Get out here with that blanket, wouldja?”

Nora unfolded the blanket and stepped out onto the balcony with a squeaky crunch of snow.

Hancock set the mugs on the railing, and they worked together to wrap themselves in the blanket. One end wrapped around his shoulders, the other around Nora’s. They stood close, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. Nora snagged one of the mugs, welcoming the heat as it seeped from the ceramic.

She took a delicate sip. Hot bourbon coated her tongue, the burn of alcohol eased with the earthy sweetness of honey, and zinging with a hint of citrus. The warmth pooled in her stomach and seemed to radiate outward to her chest, her legs. When she exhaled, her breath came out in billowing steam.

“So?” Hancock murmured as he took a drink from his own mug. “Worth it?”

Nora let her head tilt into Hancock’s shoulder. A snowflake landed on her cheek.

“Worth it.”

[lou-struck]

Blasting Down the Boardwalk

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

~You drag your blasty boyfriend down to the boardwalk for a rollerblading date. 

WC: 2.3k

~This is one of the requested prompts for my Summertime Fun Event. Feel free to check it out. 

“There is no way in Hell I’m putting those things on,” Katsuki grumbles as the employee at the skate rental booth sets two bright neon green rollerblades with hot pink wheels on the sunbleached rental booth.

The poor guy flinches at the Pro Hero’s tone. “I-I’m sorry. T-these are the only rollerblades we have left in your size, Mr. Bakugo. s-sir.” The tall counter does little to hide the shaking of his knees as he looks to you with wide eyes, no doubt hoping that you’d be able to do something.

“They’re perfect,” you are quick to shoot the worker a reassuring glance before turning your attention to your pouty blond boi. “Oh yes, you are; now, take off your shoes so I can pay.”

“Not if I’m gonna be wearing these lame-looking skates.” he argues back, “and I should be the one paying.”

“You paid for lunch, remember?” you shoot back, a teasing lift in your tone. “But I get it.”

He looks a bit confused, “You do?”

“I do,” you smile back. Doing your best to maintain your poker face. “You know you never had to lie to me, Suki; if you don’t know how to rollerblade, it’s not that big of a deal. We can go and do something else that is a little easier for you.

The mockingly patronizing way you cooed at him lights a fire in his crimson eyes. “I never said I couldn’t do it,” he grumbles, reaching down and taking off his sneakers. He plops them on the counter with an annoyed huff and looks at the employee. “I’ll take the damn skates.”

As he walks over to the bench with his bright new footwear in hand, you smile to yourself. This rollerblading date may have been your idea, but you know your boyfriend wants to use this as another opportunity to show off in front of you. 

Even if the Rollerblades do look like something pulled straight from The Barbie Movie. 

The workers’ shoulders relax a bit as you sling your dinosaur-shaped bag off your shoulder and take out your wallet to pay for both your skates and Katsuki’s. “How long can we rent them for?”

“It’s a three-hour rental period, but we are about to close for lunch, so you can bring them back anytime after an hour to get your shoes if you want to stop early,” he explains, running your card and handing it back to you.

“Sounds good,” you smile, sliding your card into your little tote bag and slipping out of your shoes. “Enjoy your lunch.”

You turn to walk away and hear the smallest little “you too.” from the rental booth. You fight the urge to laugh at the accidental comment and continue on, feeling the strong but not uncomfortable feeling of walking along the pavement with just your socks on. 

Katsuki is just lacing up his last skate as you get to the bench and can’t help but return the smile you give him. “What took ya so long? I thought you wanted to do this shit.”

“We have plenty of time,” you say, plopping down and lacing your flashy roller blades. You fiddle with the hot pink laces, pulling them until the skate is tight against your foot. It’s been too long since you have donned a pair. 

Looking around the crowded boardwalk, a small part of you worries about possibly crashing into an unsuspecting stranger. 

You shake the thought from your head and use the bench’s arm to get to your feet. Despite the little wobble in your legs, you stand tall and balanced as your muscle memory works in your favor. “Hey, I still got it,” you say to your boyfriend, who stands with little issue. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, skating over to you. “I don’t want to have to carry your ass back here after you get a face full of pavement.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you say defiantly, taking a few strides to prove to him that you are more than capable of staying upright. “Now, let’s go.” 

You start to skate down the boardwalk; a slight breeze cools your skin and pushes you along at a comfortable speed as you take a peek behind you. 

“Oi, wait for me,” Katsuki calls, skating after you at a brick pace. He looks just a bit silly lumbering after you in the neon roller skates, but it’s just as cute as you thought it would be when you had planned this date. 

“Is that Dynamite?” a teenage boy with a face full of silver freckles whispers to his friends as they watch the hero. 

“Yeah, right,” the other scoffs, tossing their head back in a self-assured fashion, “and Red Riot was over in the park sleeping on a Hammock.”

“Oh,” the freckled kid says sullenly. “But it looks just like him…”

You listen to the fading conversation of the teens, feeling a bit bad for the one who had just spoken. Katsuki reaches out and takes your hand in his sweaty one. 

“What took you so long?” you tease, interlacing your fingers with his. “I left you in the dust.”

Your words bring a competitive glint to his eyes. “We were racin, sweetheart? I didn’t realize.”

Your brow furrows in mock condition as you bite the inside of your cheek. “That’s not like you, Suki, don’t tell me you lost your edge.”

He looks damn evil as his blood-red gaze sizes you up in front of him, you look a bit silly in your bright rollerblades, but at this moment, you are his competition. “Never, get ready to eat my dust.” He bends his knees slightly, ready to race.

You do the same, ready to meet his challenge. “Bring it on.”

In a flash, the two of you take off, racing down the boardwalk, skating past obstacles and people. Your skates glide you across the pavement easily, skating until your knees feel weak and your lungs are afire, but you don’t let up. 

If you did, Katsuki would surely pass you. 

You race until you get to a part of the pathway, where it splits into two. You roll to a stop, finally being able to catch your breath. Doubling over in exhaustion, you glance over at your boyfriend, who looks completely unphased by your ‘race.’

Curse his Pro-Hero Stamina

“I won,” he smirks.

“No way, I got here first.” You argue back. You’re about to say something else to defend your victory, but your thoughts are interrupted. You hear the chime of a little bell, and it steals your attention easily. 

The bell is attached to the cutest little blue and white striped ice cream cart, and a vendor in a sailor’s uniform is handing out large scoops of cold ice cream to a few customers. 

“Ice cream,” you point, looking at the little cart and vendor standing under the shade of a giant blue and white striped umbrella. The Summer’s heat does more than enough to make you crave the frozen treat. “We have to get some.”

You grab his wrist and pull him towards the ice cream cart, earning an amused huff from him as he rolls behind you. “You’re gonna let me pay this time.

“Not a chance,” you wink back at him before absentmindedly reaching for your familiar tote that should’ve been on your shoulder, finding nothing but the sleeve of your t-shirt. Your stomach sinks to the ground when you realize that you left it on the counter at the skate rental booth. “Oh shoot, my bag.”

“That lame dino bag?” he asks, “The kid at the stand probably just put it behind the counter. You can get it back when we are done.”

“But I’m worried someone might steal it. The rental place was about to close for their lunch break, and it’s just going to be sitting there on the counter.” you frown. “And don’t call my bag lame; it’s cute, and you know it.”

He grins at you wolfishly and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his faded leather wallet. “It looks like I get to pay after all.” 

You hang your head in defeat as he takes out his black credit card and slides into your hands, “Get me somethin, I’ll go get your bag.”

Before you can argue, he activates his quirk, the little explosions propelling him down the boardwalk. Clearly, he wasn’t giving it his all during your little race. 

You are so going to get him back for that later.

“Outta my way, extras,” he yells loudly as people scramble to get out of the pro hero's way as he blasts past them with a frightening speed. As the neon skates disappear out of sight, a giggle slips past your lips. 

You really do love that man.

~

Katsuki’s brow is furrowed in determination as he blasts his way down the boardwalk, eyes scanning the crowd just in case someone is walking by with your tote bag. He is completely absorbed in his mission as he gets closer and closer to the rental booth. Spotting the dinosaur-printed fabric tucked between the booth’s outer wall completely unguarded. 

He reaches for it and looks inside just to make sure nothing has been stolen, thankfully finding everything that looks valuable still inside its walls. 

“Dumbass is just asking for someone to take their shit, huh?” He mumbles, sliding your cutesy bag over his arm.

It doesn’t slide all the way up to his shoulder; his biceps are so big the little straps won’t move past his elbow. He looks a bit ridiculous, but no one in their right mind would tell him that.

He locks eyes with the two teenagers from before; the one with silver freckles eagerly tugs at his friend’s sleeve and points at the hero. “See, I told you it was him.”

Before the other can respond, Katsuki turns his gaze to the gawking youths. 

“The hell are you two looking at?” he huffs before blasting out of there and back towards you.

~

A bit of ice cream from the cone you bought for Katsuki drips on your hand as you eat your own with the other in the comfort of the shade. The summer heat does little to keep the treat cold. Still wearing your bright rollerblades, your feet begin to feel sore from your long race just minutes ago. 

With the sting of fresh blisters that are no doubt forming beneath the neon laces on your mind, your eyes scan the busting boardwalk for any kind of bench or ledge the two of you can sit on, finding none. 

You sigh, take another bite of ice cream, and boredly rock back and forth on your wheels. Watching the seagulls viciously circle a couple sharing a box of french fries, too in love to note the danger that lies overhead. 

Your eyes are pulled from the impeding swarm by the familiar sound of light explosions. Katsuki is coming back. 

People clear the way for him as he blasts back to you, your bag secured around his arm. ‘Told ya I’d get it back.” he smirks, eyeing the ice cream in your hand hungrily. 

“That was quick,” you smile, holding out his cone towards him. A bit runs down the slides and drips onto the pavement below.

“Thanks, now here’s your damn bag.” He huffs, holding out the cute bag towards you. “You’re lucky no one took anything from it.”

I know I am. But you’ll need to hang onto it just a little longer.” you say. 

“What, no. This is your damn bag, he huffs. Already securing it in his hold once again. Arguing with you just because he can.

But my hands are covered in Ice Cream; it will get all sticky if I take it now.” you point out, “You’ll just have to keep it.”

“Damn it, why do I have to keep holding the bag you lost?” he sighs. 

“Because it suits you.” You tease, looking down at the bag. It really does look nice on him, or at least his arm.

“The hell it does!” He yells loudly. Unintentionally scaring away all the birds along the boardwalk, “Now give me my ice cream.”

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network @planetonet

[quinloki]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 1

Let's start things off with something... Sweet.

Character: Portgas D. Ace Reader: cis!fem Warnings: Mostly fluff, oral given, 18+ only

Notes: This is part of @nagumoan's Dance with the Dead Collab.

Summary: You and Ace decide to have a quiet Halloween at home for once, and he comes up with an idea to help you get through a scary movie. -:- 1668 words

Treats with Ace

“I’m not saying I don’t want to watch it,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “I’m just saying I’m a real pansy when it comes to scary movies, and I don’t know that I’ll get through the whole thing.”

Ace had put a DVD in to play after coming over to your apartment. The idea had been to celebrate Halloween a little more intimately than you usually did. No big costume parties, no getting home at 4 in the morning too sloshed to do much except peel off costumes and pass out.

A nice, quiet evening, just the two of you.

You made some Halloween themed snacks and Ace had brought the movie. You’d been hoping for something truly campy and awful, like Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, or something similar. Instead it was a legit, albeit still older, scary movie.

You weren’t upset, far from it, you just weren’t sure hiding behind Ace was going to be enough. You might have to get up and leave, and you didn’t want him to have to end the movie just because of you.

Ace gets a devious look on his face, grinning as he puts a hand along your shoulder. “I bet I can think of a way to help you get through it.”

You almost snort trying not to laugh. “Not being able to see the screen cause you’ve got your tongue half-way down my throat wouldn’t exactly be ‘getting me through it’.” You tease, leaning into him and tapping the tip of his nose.

He crinkled his face a little, wiggling his nose in response to the affectionate touch. “I promise, you’ll still be able to see the movie.”

You agree, and next thing you know you’re sitting almost on the edge of the couch. Almost every pillow in the house is behind you, letting you sit back a little despite being on the edge. Ace hits play on the movie and kneels down in front of you.

“Ace,” you start to say but he shushes you.

“Watch the movie, not me.” He says, sly smirk on his face as he tugs at the laces of your shoes. He looks up and gives you his earlier devious grin again. “Just use your safe word if you need me to stop.”

Ace moved slowly. Painfully slowly. The opening credits and scene had barely finished when he pulled your first shoe off. You were doing your best to ignore him, and focus on the movie, but his hands were hot against your legs, even with your pants still on.

When he took the first sock off you audibly gasped at the sensation of his bare hand against your skin. You heard him chuckle softly, rubbing his hand over your ankle before taking your other sock off. You were twenty minutes into the movie, and all you were certain about was that everyone in it was an idiot.

There was no amount of money that would convince you to go up to an old, abandoned asylum to spend the night. Especially if you had some kind of terrible secret in your closet that would be moral grounds to have you hunted by tortured spirits.

Ace’s hands wandered up your legs, and you glanced down at him nervously before looking back at the movie.

“Ah-Ace?” You question, your heart was almost pounding in your ears. Even through your pants, the heat and weight of his hands were sinking into you.

“I’m just going to take your pants off.” He says it almost flatly, despite the smirk on his face, and it takes you a second to process what he’s saying.

“Yeah, uh – huh?” You look down as he grips your hips and leans in, mouth open as he hooks his teeth onto the button of your jeans, tugging it free. Your hands are on his shoulders, and you scoot back into the couch a little, but the dense pack of pillows behind you doesn’t let you get far. “Ace!”

“Keep your eyes on the movie.” He says before taking the zipper clasp between his teeth and pulling it down.

“My eyes might be on the screen, but my brain isn’t paying attention.” You whine, as hot hands slip under your shirt and caress your stomach and sides. “D-Do any of these people survive?”

“Couple,” he answers off-handedly, moving his hands around to your back and lifting you a little while pulling your pants down at the same time. You lean back, gasping as you lift your hips to help him.

He pulls your pants down slowly, leaning over and leaving soft and dry, but warm kisses against your thighs as he inches them down. You have an iron grip on the couch, trying desperately not to squirm, and also to keep your eyes on the TV.

At this point you didn’t give a shit about the movie itself. The asylum ghosts could win for all you cared, and you didn’t normally like really dark endings like that. But the tension was nothing compared to what Ace was doing to you, and the tanned, freckled, tattooed brat you called your boyfriend had barely even begun.

As his kisses pass your knee his hands grab onto your calf, holding one leg and then the other still as he pulls your pants off. His kisses give way to his tongue as he licks your shin, sending odd shivers down to your toes and up your thighs, the sharp, teasing sensation of his teeth dragging against your skin randomly.

Now at least you knew why he’d been holding your leg so firmly. Your fists slam into the couch cushions when he repeated the process with the other leg. The strange sensation wasn’t unpleasant, far from it, but you felt like you were caught between being tickled and teased.

Ace settled in between your thighs, pushing your legs open wide. “Your panties are soaked.” He teases, looking up at you. You can feel his gaze on you, but you’re trying to keep your eyes on the movie.

“N-no talking,” you stammer. “I… I won’t be able to hear the movie.”

“Sure, sure.” He muses, leaning in and licking along the inside of your thigh. Your breath falls out of your mouth like fog – heavy and low. You can barely keep your eyes on the screen as his tongue slides up toward your hips.

Ace’s dark eyes lock onto yours as he continues to the line of your thigh, pulling your panties aside just enough to lick the crease where your legs meet your hips.  He doesn’t even tell you to watch the movie before he’s pulling your panties down your thighs.

He leans back enough to bring your legs together long enough to pull them off and away, pushing your legs open wide as he leans back into you. He’s level with your face for a moment, kissing you sweetly, and all too briefly before he gives the tip of your nose a quick peck.

“Watch. The movie.” He emphasizes, before shifting back down between your thighs. He watches you for a moment, making sure you’ve managed to rip your gaze away from him and back to the television.

You have no idea what’s happening in the movie. People are dying, the ghosts seem to be winning, a couple people seem to be mostly on the innocent side, and at least smart enough to have survived so long. Right now though, you can’t even really remember the name of the movie, let alone anything else.

Ace licks the other crease of your thigh, and you let out a shivering gasp, almost crying to keep your eyes up and on the TV.  His arms hook around your thighs, and your fingers slip through his hair even as you keep watching the movie. Fingers spread you open, his hot breath washing over your wet and desperate clit.

The first swift flick of his tongue against your twitching pussy nearly causes you to scream, and if not for his arms around your thighs your hips would’ve come up off the couch entirely. You didn’t get a chance to admonish him for it, before he dived in entirely, his lips and tongue licking and sucking your clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your body tensing as pleasure jolted through you like lightning.

He held you in place, arms braced against your hips, mouth nearly suctioned in place. He was well-practiced at pleasuring you, but tonight was the first time he’d teased you for so long before getting started. You hadn’t realized how turned on you’d been until your toes and torso were curling as your legs shivered.

“Ahhh-sssss!” You drag out his name, not quite saying it right as pleasure pulled your muscles tight. He didn’t stop, only grunting a little as you tugged on his hair harder than you meant to.

You sink into the pillows and the couch, releasing your grip on Ace’s hair, eyes hazy and body hot. Ace gives you a few more long, lazy licks, making your body twitch and your breath come out in shaky moans, before looking up at you with a grin.

“I should have you watch a scary movie more often.” He says, bringing your legs up with him as he leans up and over you enough to kiss you. “You came so fast.”

“Y-you teased me for forty minutes!” You protest, laughing as he nuzzles into your neck.

“All I did was undress you.”

“And kiss my legs,” you insist. “And then licked me. And then teased me!” Your protest falls into a moan as he grinds the bulge in his pants against your bare pussy.

“Gonna forgive me?” He muses, shifting his hips and listening to your needy sounds.

You lean back a little, admiring that crooked smile. You look down, tilting your head, before looking back up at him.

“Give me a proper treat, Portgas,” you drive your point home by grinding back against him. “And I will.”

[capsensislagamoprh]

I finally finished my project. It’s one of the most ambitious rooms to order I have ever done. How ambitious? Get ready for some B roll (cause my camera skills still suck.)

A whole bedroom.

Right side?

Left!

What’s that? Details and close-ups? Oh, you better believe it!

I fixed her very knotted hair. I took care of some pain mess-ups. I added a touch of high-tail (which I love) to give her that lovely teen-collage look. The commissioner asked for the room to match the doll color (which is purple/pink) but not to make it all one color. He was involved with every step. Even the accessories.

Love this. Love it so much.

Such lovely details. Make up, toys. Everything a Jr. High student might be getting into, and already knows.

Yes. That light works. Sadly, the headset does not fit, but it’s a nice touch.

Look how it adds ambiance to the scene. Now, on to wardrobe! Remember that rainbow wall? Well guess what? SECRET CLOSET! (There are surprise mini toys in that gamer bag!) Currently, she’s in her work out gear. With custom peridot earrings made Just for this doll.

I was supposed to make a swimsuit, but honestly? That’s both very hard and a little basic. I understand the child this is for is a little more on the edge for clothes. So we have this. An old-fashioned swimsuit, with a modern edge. The straps cross in the back, then snap in front. There are lace-up sides to add excitement and fit.

This is a summer outfit. Shorts, T-shirt, socks, and some shoes I had to boil to fit the doll. But man! What an outfit. I didn’t make the shoes, but I made the rest, and I am kinda proud of myself.

A couple of detail shots.

A winter outfit? Any chance to make a warm sweater! Oh, and some jeans, socks, and another set of re-fitted shoes. I didn’t make the shoes.

Some details. Socks! Knit! So warm and fluffy.

Pajamas! I had such a hard time picking the fabric for this. Fortunately, the commissioner said: I like this! And wham! Decision made! So happy he picked this one. It’s so perfect!

These are the Real Littles shoes that the commissioner picked out. He picked out others, but when fitting them to the dolls, the souls came off, so... Guess I have some shoe parts to work with now!

Windows? One look? Oh No, no, no. No! Four seasons!

Computer has a changeable screen as well.

How many did I make? Well...

You can see the window slides here too.

More details? Okay! Each of these bags has doll sized toys, and snacks. Even the boxes. This way, the recipient can have the fun of the Holiday with their new doll.

Even more details! Yes, all the posters are moveable, in case they want to put them in other arrangements.

And yes, it does still fold up into that small bag space. With room to spare.

And yes, I can still pick it up and hold it with two fingers. So, it’s light enough for a child to carry. I did add a tie, just in case someone is rough with it.

So, we have a whole room with custom furniture and interchangeable parts, four outfits, a hair doo, gifts, and all the details. Happy holidays to you all.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOO im also chronically online this is a safe space for the chronically online dw (i also respond at chronically online speeds sooo) but FR THE UNHOLY TRINITY LMAOO if we add Raichi it’s the four horsemen of the apocalypse (bro has never played anything other than defense though and we like. NEVER see him touch the ball basically so uh sorry bro no sexy soccer time yet)

Honestly I don’t know why more people can’t just let people exist?? Like fr just leave them alone and live your life why make it so miserable for everyone sheesh…also please those twelve year olds on tiktok can’t even tie their shoe laces nor should they be on tiktok learning “potty mouth phrases” LMAO I think they need a reality check DESPERATELY

Never apologize for writing too much Karasu.

But LMAOO OK IM GLAD HAHA so real for that I can’t do what Reo or Barou do for him like I will not be the Anri to your Ego!!! Please put your socks in the laundry!!!! But this isn’t irl so he’ll still be a squishy bear to me

LMAO REALLL side character supremacy >>> Honestly I didn’t hate the animation either although I did notice some funky scenes it wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone made it seem…I’m glad to hear that they’re putting their eightbitussy into it though

He’s so captain it’s literally insane (quick we gotta talk more about this and manifest Karasu captain for u20 World Cup) Aiku honestly a good option too (I wanna see my man in action though) if it’s Isagi I’ll lowk riot

BESIDES AN EROTIC LEFT LEG GOODBYE that made me snort as I read this

I LOVE READING THE REFERENCES LMAOOO if they fit into the story keep them coming!!! (KARASU DROWNING SHDGSHSH IM NOT READY)

Ok yeah I also kinda ballparked that amount in my mind LMAO I forgot to mention this more in my last response but the ON SALE THING >>>> I laughed it was so goofy too like she caught him red handed THE NEXT DAY like bro those were NOT on sale…$50 for advice boy you’re not slick

Chefs kiss mc written wonderfully WITHOUT the typical overly used cliches as much as I love a stupid mc sometimes it’s quite an overused trope I feel where it’s the teehee dummy reader so again, this was refreshing LOL (I always love how you give your y/ns substance as characters and like humans..?? Like they all feel like actual people and aren’t your just your average w*ttp*d UwU MCs…I mean writers have to start somewhere so maybe I should stop bashing them like this but uh)

Honestly it’s such an interesting language which is why it takes me a bit to translate/transcribe sometimes because I can’t capture the underlying meanings or emotions as well in English LMAOO (the first time I tried was the hiori light novel and finding the correct phrasing was definitely a learning curve LOL) but omg slay you’re outperforming people living in the motherland!! That’s honestly really impressive, do you get to speak it frequently?

Snuffy’s backstory is actually so sad I can’t :(( also the SONG CHOICE??? Bye. But this is why I can’t even say “no one dies in soccer anymore” man

NO FR you know it’s bad when I’m impressed by a healthy family in bllk shdshhs HAHA FAIR TRADE INDEED o7 I have chapter 2 ready it was longer than I expected but I sped up the process using dictation as I read it LMAOAO so again if you catch any typos or weird punctuation lmk LOL (when I tell you I almost died dictating this I LAUGHED and reacted like omfg and it caught me saying that and wrote it down but ANGWAYS I’m not sure anything is beating this chapter) I know I said summary earlier but I don’t think I’m capable of doing that LMAOA so this is basically just the entire chapter I just reformatted it in a kinda summary like format because I don’t wanna keep pausing to type so many quotation marks HAHAHA anyways enjoy! I’ll come back to discuss after you read it so I don’t spoil anything yet hehe

Signing off early so it doesn’t weirdly attach to the end of the LN section LOL

-Karasu anon

2-Honor Student:

In elementary school, Kenyu was an honor student. Although he was a little cowardly, he was first and foremost, a kind, hard-working kid. he always did his homework and happily greeted everyone. Got along well with his peers and never fought. He was someone that both his classmates and teachers could rely on. When it was time to choose class president, Tomoda nominated him, and everyone joined in agreeing to nominating Kenyu. But after half a year, something shocking had occurred.

Little by little Kenyu had become better friends with his seatmate Tomoda, frequently going to his house after school. Tomoda had a kind sister three years their senior. She would often give them candy and play games with them. One day, Kenyu had gone over to play with Tomoda, to be told by his older sister that he hadn’t gotten home yet and was possibly taking a detour. She told Kenyu to go ahead and wait upstairs for him, but he wondered if maybe he was meeting with other friends in the park. He wondered if he too should go to the park, but it’d be troublesome if he had assumed incorrectly. While he was lost in his thoughts, Tomoda’s sister suddenly came up to him and brushed away his bangs. His hair had always been soft, and his mom had always helped him style it, so the Tomoda’s sister had always complemented him, saying his hair made him look so handsome like a model. It wasn’t unusual for her to touch his hair, but that wasn’t all that happened that day. In addition, she kissed his forehead. His eyes widened as his brain was left short-circuiting. “Huh?”

“My beloved Kenyu, let’s play together” she had said with sparkling eyes. Kenyu could feel his heart racing. “…I’ve gotta go to the park..!” His face turned bright red and he ran out. He didn’t end up, going to the park, but instead of ran back home to his room, waiting for his racing heart to still.

“My beloved Kenyu” He had repeated her words in his mind. he didn’t really understand it all, but he was happy that she said she liked him. He was a bit embarrassed, though that she had kissed him. He thought himself, “I’m never telling anyone about this.”

The handsome class president and honor student. By the time he became a second year, he had grown taller, adding to his versatility in giving him athletic potential. as he continued growing, he came to be one of the tallest in his grade. He was fast at running, and he was always the last one left in dodgeball. Then, of course, came Sports Day. After comparing all the times in their PE Class, Kenyu’s high ranking had gotten him chosen for the relay race. Everyone was in agreement. He was tall, fast and the perfect fit for the job. He was to be the anchor for the relay race. Was it really all right for him to play such an important role? he felt a bit uneasy, but he would give his best once again for the people relying on him. Until the day of the sports festival, Kenyu would run every day. He’d wake up early to run and practice dashes on the field after school. Every Sunday, he’d have his father time him. Finally, it was time for the class relay. Under the clear sky, the fastest runners would compete while the cheer squads cheered them on. Kenyu’s class, 2-1, however, would compete in vain. After each grouping, members of his team would slip down the ranks. By the time Kenyu got the baton he was in last place. There is a huge gap between him and the top, all the people running in front of him are the fastest in their class after all. But Kenyu had to try his best. Everyone had chosen him as anchor after all. He steadily started accelerating, passing by another player in just a quick moment. With his large physique moving vigorously and his feet firmly stomping against the ground, he gradually closed the gap between the other runners. His classmates all cheered for him, and as they continued supporting him, he continued gaining speed. Even the announcer from the broadcasting club got caught up in the excitement. With the loud cheers under the blue sky, Kenyu passed the final goal, bursting past the four other racers and finishing first. It’s the first time he’d ever run so fiercely. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. Kenyu had finished first for the sixth graders. His classmates had showered him with praise, wearing a big smiles on their faces as they crowded around him. Kenyu thanked them for their support, feeling that their cheers had powered him on. Kenyu was honest and sincere. He didn’t know he could run that fast. It’s because everyone had believed in him that he was able to discover a new part of him. To Kenyu, it was an incredibly joyous moment. A few days after that, when he got home, a shiny soccer ball was waiting for him in the doorway. Kenyu was surprised and had wondered what it was for. His parents had thought it would be good for him to give soccer a try, seeing how he was so fast. It would make him more popular too. After seeing that their child had such amazing speed they suggested that he try out a sport and bought him a soccer ball. Of course his mother also wanted to see him popular. Immediately, Kenyu went outside and tried kicking the ball. As he ran with the ball, he found that he couldn’t stop. He’d kick it forward and chase after it continuing on. “This is fun!”, he thought to himself. In all honesty, being able to dribble without losing speed is a technique that’s difficult for beginners, but Kenyu, blessed with incredible athletic ability, was able to do it from the start. That’s how Kenyu “met” soccer, his parents had blessed him with the opportunity. As if it was fate, Kenyu found himself absorbed in soccer.

i wonder what sexy soccer even is 😭 like what does it entail yk…HAHA chronically only gang rise 🤩 tumblr truly is the site for people of our kind i love it

the craziest to me is when they freak out about non-teenagers watching shows and writing fics meanwhile they are openly thirsting for old ass characters?? why are you at fourteen writing paragraphs abt every position you want to fuck toji and nanami in 😭😭😭 look i’m not going to judge too harshly because wtvr i get it but also like some of them need to realize that those in glass houses should not be throwing stones

the karasu tabito tag is basically mine atp DJSKDK i think every karasu fan has probably seen at LEAST one or two of my posts (whether it’s a fic or just one of my karasu shitposts)

EXACTLYYYY YOU WILL NEVER CATCH ME BEING AN ANRI there’s only room for one high maintenance person per relationship and that role is fulfilled by me 👆🏻 that’s why my other favs are karasu barou and reo…you know those kings are NOT letting their partners suffer 😫 however in fiction nagi is my squishy cuddly fluffy dog bf so he is still number one in my heart 😩

if it’s isagi i’ll be mad because he doesn’t even feel like he has any interest in being captain 😓 i think aiku could work but agreed we def have to see more of him plus i don’t think he’d be made captain as he’s not an og blue locker yk?? OMG but if the trend continues we should be able to manifest karasu as captain…holding a prayer circle now 🕯️🕯️🕯️ (lowkey it would be funny if ego made like kurona or niko captain just because they’re the only ones that aren’t batshit insane and typically keep their speeches and vocab relatively normal 😭)

the way eita didn’t think she’d check if they were actually on sale too is so funny like she’s been dying to go there did you think she wouldn’t go and ask if the sale was still going on?! SO not slick omg i love him though…but $50 FJKSKS idek where he got that type of money from

i do enjoy writing a good old dumb/oblivious reader every now and again but i do think they have to be done right to feel believable!! personally all of my y/ns and mcs are based off of aspects of my own personality — some closer to my actual self than others ofc — which i think makes it easier to flesh them out because it’s just like “okay what would i do in that situation” LMAOO most of my side character ocs are based off of people i know too which again makes it easier to make them feel complex because it’s like “right so how would ___ react to that happening to them”…sometimes they end up not even being that similar (tullia in pomegranate ink is NOTHING like my irl best friend that she’s “based off of”) but just thinking of them as real people helps me treat them as such in the narrative!!

haha yes everyone does start somewhere so i never try to hate to their faces but i think it’s okay to acknowledge a general trend/pattern!! like there’s a difference between saying “your specific fic sucks i hate how you wrote your main character” versus being like “i think a lot of fics in x fandom have this problem with characterization”!! to me it’s not hate because people can decide whether that applies to them or not yk?? and yeah the wattpad uwu mcs are truly smth…or the ones that are meant to be “badass” but are really just loud/rude/make overly sexual jokes and swear a lot 😭 a lot of the times at first it’s easy to make characters as stereotypes/caricatures of themselves or have them composed of cliches but i do think most people grow out of it i quickly!! just a phase we must all go through i suppose…i will be the first to say i was cringe when i started writing that’s why half of my old works are private now 😩

HAHA OUTPERFORMING INDEED it’s so funny whenever i visit india my relatives tell me it looks like my voice is being dubbed over because i speak such good hindi but i’m very pale by indian standards so i look like a foreigner 😭 which omg ik that’s such a stereotypical thing to be saying like “no i don’t look like my race” when you very obviously do but just this last january i visited india for the first time in six years and people IN INDIA (including literally people i’m related to) thought i was either irani, afghani, or from spain 😓 they’d get jumpscared when i’d speak to them in hindi KSDJKSAN their lives would flash before their eyes as they tried to remember if they had talked shit abt me 😩 i speak it a bit at home and with all of my extended family that’s kind of the only language they know so when i call them i speak it!! i also just have a really really good memory (hence the lack of studying) so i don’t forget things which helps me pick up languages rlly quickly

SNUFFY’S BACKSTORY KILLS ME it’s so sad yet also realistic??? like it really feels like smth that could’ve happened irl yk (idk if it’s based off of smth or not) but on the other hand yuki’s is so normal i love it 😍 the fact that he got into soccer in such an average and chill way too LMAOAOAO my unproblematic goat!! although the sister thing is so funny…i’m assuming this is a different friend’s older sister than the one he fell in love with at age 10 because according to egoist bible she was 16 😭 and this girl is only three years older than him so they must be diff?? lowkey crazy as hell omg even in elementary school yuki was pulling 😰 i always interpreted those two facts (his first love was his friend’s 16 year old sister and his first confession was when his friend’s sister kissed him on the forehead) as being abt the same person and it being like the 16 year old sister was just kissing him because he was a cute little kid and he misinterpreted it/got embarrassed because he had a crush on her if that makes sense?? but ig they’re different people entirely!!

[voxofthevoid]

Time-Travel Fuck-It Wednesday #4. This fic is now significantly longer than I intended or expected, and you'd think I'd be used to it by now but nope. Shocked Pikachu.jpeg every time.

Anyway, have some emotional porn. More emotion than porn.

Yuuji says, “Let me take care of you.”

Satoru blinks up at him. “I think that should be my line.”

“No.” Yuuji shakes his head. “You’re always doing that. My turn.”

“You have very low standards for care, Yuuji.”

Yuuji hums, indulgent and noncommittal, but it’s clear his attention is on the hand steadily unzipping Satoru’s jacket. He lifts his body off Satoru, straddling him instead while he sets about stripping him. And Satoru finds himself playing the part of a pretty doll, strangely curious what Yuuji intends to do. He’s used to those calloused hands touching him with hunger and tenderness both, their hard-earned skill laced with an abundance of affection, but there’s something different today in how he’s going about it. The simmering intent in his eyes isn’t exactly alien, but there’s a weight to it that settles heavily over Satoru’s own bones.

Yuuji takes his time stripping Satoru, pausing to press gentle hands and warm lips to each bared body part. You’d think the novelty would have worn off by now, with how often and how easily Satoru gives himself over to this boy, but Yuuji’s gaze and touch have not yet grown any less hungry, any less reverent. And Satoru has had plenty of time to learn that he’ll never be immune to being wanted like this—all his godhood and monstrosity stripped away to reveal the hot human core.

His pants are the last to go, and it’s adorable, how Yuuji acts like abandoning his perch on Satoru’s thighs is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

“Cute,” Satoru murmurs, and Yuuji’s eyes flicker upward, catching on Satoru’s gaze like he can’t quite help it. The pink on his cheeks is still there, never having left, but it’s his eyes that brighten at the praise.

He makes quick work of Satoru’s pants, even pausing to take off his shoes and socks. He lingers there too, crouched at the foot of the bed with Satoru’s foot in his grip. His thumb traches the arch of it, and the pressure is too firm to tickle, but the tenderness burned into the skin there isn’t any less devastating. Yuuji lets go with a final squeeze, all five fingers wrapping tight around the middle of that foot.

Satoru feels that grip all through his body, his chest and his throat throbbing in tandem.

Yuuji’s nice enough to provide a distraction the next moment, leaving the bed to strip out of his own clothes. Satoru watches greedily, and alright, maybe he does know why Yuuji never seems to lose that touch of awe at seeing him naked. Yuuji favors oversized clothes and never minds his posture, and it’s not a lack of confidence, Satoru knows, only a failure to care about appearance or presence. Yuuji’s priorities have never been in how he’s perceived. But that just means it’s a shock to the system when he shows his truth.

Soft skin stretched taut over hard muscle. Human meat wrapped around a core of inhuman power.

Heat pools in Satoru’s gut, dripping down to where his cock lies against his thigh. It’s mostly soft, Yuuji’s touches having burrowed into parts of Satoru that were concerningly above the waist, but one look at the way Yuuji crawls back into bed to loom over him says it won’t stay that way very long.

For a moment, Yuuji doesn’t do anything. He just looks, burning eyes trailing heat along everything they touch. Satoru thrusts out his chest and spreads his legs, muscles clenched all over and breath held fast. Yuuji needs no enticement, his interest blatant from the living dark of his eyes to the heavy cock between his legs, but Satoru’s always been hard-wired to put on a show.

Yuuji’s throat clicks around a swallow.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes.

Satoru shivers.

It’s a little ridiculous. This isn’t news. Satoru knows what he looks like, and he knows how and why others look at him with the kind of heat Yuuji’s cooking in right now.

But the way Yuuji’s looking at him, the way he sounds—

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Satoru says, but it comes out too serious, more warning than teasing.

And Yuuji’s never met a warning sign he won’t prance past with a smile on his face, has he?

Case in point—the hands on Satoru’s hips, the lips on his throat, the prayer pressed into his skin. Yuuji kisses his way down the length of his torso, his mouth soft and wet but never staying long enough for Satoru to feel it. The aftertouch lingers, warm phantoms trailing down his body from neck to navel.

His dick is almost fully hard by the time Yuuji’s mouth reaches it, and the heat of it does the rest. There’s pleasure in Yuuji’s eyes, the kind that’s hot with pure satisfaction, as he pulls back to suckle on the head. Satoru finally reaches for him, cupping the side of his face and tracing the curve of his lips. Yuuji makes a quiet, happy noise around the head, his eyes fluttering closed.

He slides sweetly down Satoru’s cock, barely hesitating when it nudges the back of his throat.

Satoru fists his free hand in the sheets and keeps the other gentle on Yuuji, petting his jaw and neck. He’s rewarded with wet clench of muscles and the shudder of a tongue, and then another and another, and Yuuji’s face has gone from pink to a blotchy red, all of him clearly screaming for air, but he keeps himself there, stubborn and scorching, nails digging into Satoru’s hips as he makes himself choke.

“Yuuji,” Satoru rasps, tugging at his hair with no real force. “Easy.”

Yuuji’s eyes open, heavy-lidded and lazy as they meet Satoru’s stare. And he holds it while he pulls off, an exquisitely slow slide that has Satoru clenching every one of his muscles to keep himself in place instead of fucking up into Yuuji’s mouth.

Yuuji pants over his cock, his lips a wet, ripe red. Satoru wipes it clean of the mess—

—and brings his hand to his own mouth, humming around the taste of spit and precome.

Yuuji’s hands convulse on his hips, bruising the flesh.

He says, “Turn around.”

That’s a little unexpected, but Satoru only arches an eyebrow before doing as told—well, he makes an attempt.

“You’ll have to let me go first,” he points out, raising an eyebrow at the hands still clamped on his hips. “Conflicted, Yuuji?”

“Yes,” comes the frank answer, even as Yuuji lets go, prying his fingers away and swaying back to give Satoru room to move. “Sometimes, I wish there were two of me, just so I touch you everywhere, all the time.”

Satoru swallows, throat suddenly painfully dry.

“I’m not sure I’d survive,” he mutters, turning around as asked. With Yuuji’s blisteringly earnest expression no longer in view, it’s easier to add, “Well, I guess dying on dick isn’t a bad way to go. Definitely better than the last time.”

Palms settle at the base of his back, thumbs fondling the twin dimples there. A not-insignificant portion of Yuuji’s weight comes to rest on Satoru as those hands slide up the length of his back in a slightly savage version of a massage. They stop on his shoulders, and then there are lips brushing over his nape and a cheek rubbing against his undercut, before warm breath falls on the shell of his ear.

“That’s not how this goes, Satoru,” Yuuji says, hushed like a secret. “You live.”

[griefabyss69]

fear of the inky blackness of night or whatever

👀👀👀

Finally! A stupid and incoherent one!!!!

I still don't even know what this one is or what the point of it is, it was definitely one of those where I just started writing with zero real ideas. However despite all of THAT, I like it a lot, it's a different Eddie voice than I usually write and maybe is closer to his canon voice than I usually do? (CWs: maybe home invasion and general fear? everything's fine I swear) rated T maybe? and it's Steddie! And it starts from the beginning of the fic

So when Eddie walks into his room, as he does, you know, like a person will just walk into the room he sleeps in, bed and dresser and guitars and all, he doesn't expect there to just be…

A fucking guy in there.

It's dim, the light from the hallway not illuminating that shit enough for him to see more than just the shadows of whoever this guy is, but maybe he doesn't need to see who it is if he judges by how fucking fast his heart rate kicks up.

He gives a brave little choked off scream and scrambles back down the hallway, grabbing his shoes on his way out the front door, not bothering to put them on as he bolts towards his van-

-And runs right into the car parked right in the way, close enough to the trailer to be an unexpected nuisance, an absolute fucking monster of a hurdle towards his safety. And now he's partially flattened over the hood of this parked car like he'd run out into a busy street, groaning at what will become bruises on his legs.

He peels himself back up to his feet and glares at the car, biting back a hiss of annoyance, not worked up enough yet to start making animal sounds about it.

The fucking car is Steve's.

Fucking Steve, and his fucking car, and parking it so fucking close to their front steps that he didn't even notice it despite it being as wide as the gravel driveway. Eddie always parks just to the side of it, and his Uncle usually parks closer to the end of it, and so Steve really should've gotten with the program and parked somewhere else.

Steve, whose car Eddie does secretly hope has no fucking dents in it, dithers at the doorway to the trailer, shifting on his feet enough to make creaky noises that get Eddie's flight response back online as he whips around, already walking backwards towards his van.

"Uh, are you okay?" Steve asks, a lost puppy frown on his face that Eddie usually can't get enough of.

Eddie gestures at him, shoes flinging around violently by their laces as he draws a line between the front door and Steve's car, making sounds of frustration that are probably super easy for Steve to decipher.

"…Right," Steve says, shrugging as he heads back into the trailer, casual, as if there wasn't a reason why Eddie ran out.

Oh God, Steve's going to run right into the shadow guy.

"Come back here!" Eddie yells, halfway up the stairs to the door before he gets cold feet. "I swear to fucking god Harrington!"

Steve just turns at his own leisure, tilting his head at him with another look of confusion that on a better day Eddie could eat right up with a fork and knife.

"When you chill out maybe you can tell me what you're upset about," he says, pulling the same shit he does with the kids, his hands propped up on his hips and everything.

Infuriating to be treated like he's fifteen and not a whole half a year older than Steve.

"Fine! Get serial murdered by the shadow guy in my room!" He yells, stomping off back down the stairs. His stomps turn into gingerly crossing the gravel under his socks pretty quickly, but he makes it to the worn grass by his van and flings the driver's side open.

He's just hauling himself up into the seat when Steve comes out, politely shutting the screen door behind himself and heading over at such a sedate pace that he wonders if he's burnt out the ability to feel fear or not.

He stops in front of Eddie, - standing in a way that looks cool and had to have been practiced at some point, nobody just stands and looks cool without even leaning on anything - and tucks his hands into his back pockets.

"Munson," he says, getting back at Eddie's last name crime with one of his own. "What did this shadow guy look like?"

Eddie squints at him, glaring at his face and his broad shoulders and the way his jeans are pulled just a little bit tighter across his hips with his hands taking up valuable real estate in the back.

"How am I supposed to know that? It was dark, he was some guy, and he was looming in the shadows of my room," he says, tossing his shoes in the passenger seat so he can cross his arms.

Steve nods, looking serious for all of three seconds before he cracks, a smile breaking out over his face.

"Well, sorry man. I didn't see him while I was looming in the shadows of your room, so I must have just missed him."

Eddie's glad he doesn't have anything in his hands anymore, or he thinks he would've thrown his shoes through Steve's face, though the bastard probably could catch them with his jock superpowers.

"Asshole," he hisses instead, pointing at him. "Why the hell were you just standing there in the dark?"

Steve shrugs, licking his bottom lip as he thinks. It should look stupid, and it totally does, the way his tongue presses into it as his lip curls back over his teeth. An awkward thing for a face to do, absolutely, and even more awkward when Steve does it.

"I was like, doing that thing. Exposure therapy," he says, rocking back and forth on his feet. So casual. "I'm trying to get used to the dark again and I didn't want to do it alone in my house."

Eddie wants to call bullshit, but it sounds both weird and smart enough for it to be a Steve original, though he knows he wouldn't have said it was a good idea if anybody else asked him.

"So you did it alone in my house instead?" He asks, grabbing his shoes. Time to go back inside, he supposes.

"Well, yeah. It's like, not haunted, probably. And you were on your way home," Steve shrugs, backing up a step as Eddie hops out of his van.

He slams the door shut a little hard just to try to get some of his adrenaline out, taking a few tries to get the key in to lock it properly, trying not to think about how he forgot to lock it the first time.

Nothing like getting the life scared out of you to remind you about the safety of your noble mechanical steed.

"Right, I guess if you really want it to, that can make sense," he says, heading back up the driveway once again. "However, you could've fucking warned a guy!"

Steve laughs as he follows behind him, something hearty and nice that helps settle Eddie's nerves a bit. He still wants to punch something or go climb a tree and hide up there for a few hours, but he tamps it down as he tosses his shoes by the front door and heads back to his room, letting Steve lock up the doors behind them.

"I could've, yeah. I just didn't think you'd get scared," Steve's saying, and Eddie wants to call him selfish for it but the problem is that Steve still thinks Eddie is brave, despite… literally everything.

"Next time just tell me," he says, starting to peel off his clothes on his way to his room. "I'm going to take a shower, go ahead and hide in the dark recesses of my lair and try not to get eaten by old socks or whatever."

Steve's laugh is a little strangled this time and Eddie hopes that he doesn't think his socks have been living on the floor for so long that they're actually sentient. He's moved recently, after all. These are new old floor socks.

He drops the contents of his pockets on the bathroom counter and keeps his boxers on to come back out, stuffing the rest of his clothes into the hamper by their new washer-dryer combo, fully aware of Steve's ability to see him in all his pasty, bitten up glory, not willing to add even more to that at the moment.

"Also think about what you want to eat for supper, and if it's like, not in the pantry, think about how you'd like to acquire it," he says, glancing back at Steve who's looking a little pink around the edges.

It's cute, in a completely different way than his lost puppy looks, and so Eddie just gets a fucking move on and gets into the bathroom before he starts blushing right back at him.

--

He should've been prepared for it, when he got out of the shower, heard absolutely nothing, and went about drying off. Humming under his breath to fill the silence as he combed his hair and put weird cream over his scars and wrapped his towel securely around his waist.

The stillness in the trailer as he opened the door, finding even more lights turned off than earlier, now just a lamp in the living room and the light over the stove top illuminating the place enough for him to see.

Things he didn't bother noticing or acknowledging until he got to his dark room and let the door creak open, revealing the shadowy figure of the same fucking guy standing in his room.

He caught himself just before he bolted again, this time for some kind of weapon instead of the front door, hands clenching around his door frame as he forced himself to speak.

"Steve?" He asks, voice barely making it past his throat.

"Hmm?" Steve replies, the shadow tilting it's head. "Oh, right."

A light flicks on and there's Steve, just standing in the middle of Eddie's room again.

"I ordered a pizza, I hope that's cool," he says, moving aside to let Eddie get to his dresser.

"Yeah, totally cool," Eddie replies absently, waiting on his heart to stop fucking pounding in his throat before he goes to get dressed. He feels Steve's gaze on him as he valiantly ignores him and the shiver that goes up his spine.

Steve turns while he gets dressed, which is kind, since it means he doesn't have to give away his nervousness and ask him to like close his eyes or something. It also lets him cycle through blushing way too hard for the situation and back down, only his ears still feeling hot as he makes sure they're covered by his hair.

"I scared you again, didn't I?" Steve asks, poking at a poster on his wall. It's a little wrinkled, salvaged from the old place, but it suits the rest of the room.

"You sure fucking did," Eddie mutters, pulling on a pair of sweatpants. "Though I don't know what I was expecting, considering you're becoming more of a freak than I am."

Steve laughs and Eddie finishes getting dressed, torn between wanting to throw something at him and wanting to tackle him onto his bed to swallow his amusement right down.

"How about we leave my blood pressure alone for the rest of the night, huh?" He asks, heading out of the room to the living room.

[seeminglydark]

i can't remember if you've answered this before (i feel like you probably have but i don't really know how to check): how does Johnny break in his boots? or does he just wear the shit out of them until they're broken in on their own?

I have not! so as a kid i think he would have worn the shit out of them until they broke in on their own or used the hammer towel method (hope you got a lot of heel bandaids available johnny boy!) though to be honest, i have these art pieces where hes a teen wearing docs, and im really not sure how he'd canonically even get a pair of docs, you know chief o'sullivan would never have bought him 100+ dollar boots so thats either a gift from Caro, friends, or not canon. truthfully he'd probably have worn general issue black combat boots he got at the local thrift store in his teens.

older john would be aware there are easier ways to break in a pair of leather boots without killing your feet completely, he'd resort to the tried and true way condition your leather and wear double thick socks, and occasionally apply gentle heat (hair dryer method) or toss em in the freezer.

i guess heres another Punk Rock Fact for you-

its best to wear 2 layers of thick socks, your docs /boots should be a bit snug when you buy them, cuz leather stretches and they will end up too loose if you size up (this is also why its not always great to buy leather shoes or boots from the thrift, theyve already molded to other peoples feet and can hurt and fit you very wrong!)! two socks helps protect your feets and push against the boots.

wear them around the house for a few days with your double socks to loosen up the leather, take em off when it starts hurting and extend the time every day. stuff newspaper in em when youre not wearing them if you want to help them maintain stretch. keep those bandaids and heel blister plasters close by.

so the two ways to make it happen a little bit fast is heat or cold. so for heat what you wanna do is get some leather balm (hate to shill a product but doc martens wonderbalm is actually super nice. mink oil works too.) set that aside and put on your biggest fattest socks or double layer, throw your boots on and lace em up real tight. yeah its not gonna feel good. thats ok, youll live probably. now take a hair dryer on its lowest setting and VERY GENTLY and not too close to your boot, heat all the surfaces with it for about 30 seconds per spot (but continuously move the hair dryer). dont do this for to long and only do it once or twice, you dont wanna damage the glue but the heat will help the leather become more supple and stretch faster. leave the boots and and walk around your house again, stretching them out, bending your feet, stand on your tiptoes etc. after they cool, apply the wonderbalm as per instruction to protect the leather.

and finally the freezer method, i use this mostly if my leather shoes or boots are a bit too snug still. fill a heavy duty ziplock bag about halfway with water and make sure its sealed really tight with no air inside. stick the bag in your boots, trust me on this, and throw em in the freezer over night. SCIENCE IS FUN ice expands, take em out the next day and let em defrost and voila. the leather has stretched and softened because of the expanding ice.

basically, take care of your leather! lots of conditioner and wear them gently. if you've got your own tried or true methods, let me know, im old and this is what ive always done, so id love to learn new ways!

[mvshortcut]

If this is a weird question, feel free to delete, but in the midst of trying to follow all the Maren/Milk Divorce/Marriage drama lore, I have to ask: why is your nemesis a turkey and how is he (or she or it, does the turkey even have a name? idk...) involved in this? Do you and this particular turkey have a deep complicated backstory of betrayal and hate that has been building to this fight or did you and the turkey just see each other one day and declare yourselves enemies?

I attempted to tell the abridged version of this tale. I really did.

The long and short of it is, despite going to college in a relatively urban environment, I have been haunted and stalked and vexed day and night by a gang of turkeys. Yes, a gang of wild turkeys that live in the city. No, I don't understand it either. They're like oversized pigeons at this point.

The turkeys have been a background presence in my college experience for some time. But, towards the end of last semester, I became aware that the turkeys appeared to be honing in on me specifically.

It started with one turkey, whom I have dubbed Victorian Maiden Turkey because the turkey looks very ill for some reason? very grey and scrawny and rumpled feathers and constantly seems confused about where she is and what is going on. She looks like a fainting waif of a Victorian maiden that needs to be sent to the seaside for her health, where she will magically be cured by the sun and fresh air. (No relation to the fact that she's been moved out of her city home, which is at least composed of 35% asbestos.)

ANYWAYS. so. Victorian Maiden Turkey seemed to like. follow me when I went to class? or at least wait for me? I had a long walk to class, and it was kind of through a residential area, and she'd just be like. hiding out in someone's driveway, staring at me as I walked past? On the way home from class I walked an entirely different route through a different part of town, and she was there too? (I know it's the same turkey because, again, none of the others resemble sickly waifs.) She was literally hiding in the bushes waiting for me to go past. I only noticed her, in fact, because I nearly tripped over her.

This continued for the next couple weeks. I kept running into this turkey, along with a few others, in different parts of town, going to class or the store or on my walks. I spoke to friends and my roommate and none of them reported being tailed by turkeys all over town. Only me. My roommate and my mom both agreed with me that there was only one possible explanation: someone had put out a hit from the turkey mafia on me, and this turkey was sent to scope out the scene and learn my routines, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.

Now, I’m getting nervous because the end of the semester is fast approaching. If these turkeys are gonna make a move, they’re gonna have to do it soon, right? Mentally I’m counting down the days until I can get the hell outta dodge. My days are numbered. And, on top of fearing for my life, I still have to study for finals, since I don’t believe any of my professors will accept “I’m being stalked by the turkey mafia” as an excuse.

Sunday. Last day before finals week begins. Trying to entice myself to push through the home stretch, I grab my picnic blanket, pick up some Chipotle, and bring my work to the park. First big mistake on my part - big open area. No shelter. No witnesses.

Second big mistake: I wear sneakers with laces. I remove my shoes and socks and spread out on my blanket under a tree to better enjoy the warm day. Chekhov is cocking his gun as we speak.

So. As an unsuspecting naive college student, I get straight to work enjoying my Chipotle and ignoring my studying. Then, just as the “ah shit, finals start tomorrow” reality begins to settle in and I finally buckle down on my work, I hear a rustling from over yonder.

Emerging from someone’s driveway and entering the park is—a turkey. Not Victorian Maiden Turkey—he looks entirely too well-fed. In fact he’s a rather hefty-looking fellow. The turkey slowly wends his way over to me; and, as I’ve seen turkeys several times around the city before, I assume we’re cool and proceed to ignore him.

Except—the turkey keeps approaching. We’re gonna call him Turkey Number One. (In the moment, I did not call him “Turkey Number One” for the same reasons that people in the early 1900’s didn’t call The Great War “World War I,” but we’ll get to that later.)

Turkey Number One continues to approach. As he approaches, he gradually becomes larger by puffing himself up. At some moments he simply seems interested in investigating me and my Chipotle and my water bottle. But at other times he begins to make a variety of unhappy turkey noises, but refrains from outright gobbling at me thus far. At this point he’s within 6-10 feet of me. Mildly annoyed—why is this turkey going to act all huffy at me if he’s the one choosing to invade my space? When he has a whole park’s worth of space in which to ignore me?—I stand up, grab my laptop, and make to step away from my blanket for a moment to let the turkey cool off for a moment.

Now, here's where Chekhov begins to chuckle ominously at me from the audience. Remember how I took my shoes off earlier? Well, as I now discover, the tree above me produces some rather sharp variety of seeds, which will easily stab the bottom of my feet if I attempt to step on them without shoes. The whole ground is covered in these seeds.

Not a problem, right? 

Think again, Milk. The turkey is impatient and unhappy with me bending down to tie my shoes. As soon as I stoop down, he begins to approach my blanket, gobbling furiously at full volume and fluffing up his feathers. He backs off when I stand up, but every time I attempt to bend to put my shoes on, he resumes his approach.

Okay. This is fine. It’s gonna be just fine. I mean, I’m actively texting good-byes to my friends and mother and roommate, but it’s gonna work out just fine.

And to be honest? It does. Turkey #1 and I go back and forth for a few minutes. He begins to calm down, seems unsure of whether to perform a mating dance at my water bottle or not. Eventually he decides against it and takes his leave and I, with a sigh of relief, resume studying, thinking that the ordeal is over.

The ordeal is not over.

About an hour later, Turkey Number 1 returns from a different angle of the park. And—he’s brought his girlfriend this time, Turkey Number 2! (She is also well-fed and bears no relation to Victorian Maiden Turkey.) I’m still unclear as to whether Turkey Number 1 wanted me to meet his girlfriend, or if he thought I was encroaching on his territory/relationship and was like, “See? I have a girlfriend, man! Back off!” yada yada.

All in all, the second wave goes rather smoothly. Turkey Number 1 is all puff and no bite. Turkey Number 2 is visibly embarrassed by the antics of her boyfriend’s posturing (I’m not a bird behavioral expert but I recognize The Expression. It is universal). She occupies herself with eating seeds for a few minutes, I have some more Chipotle, Turkey Number 1 gradually cools off—it’s nice. After a moment Turkeys Number 1 and 2 exit the park and I, once again, return to my studying.

Lulled into a false sense of security by the last turkey visit, I don’t bat an eye when Turkeys Number 1 and 2 return to the park an hour later. They were fine last time, right? No big deal.

Then, over the horizon, a challenger approaches.

At long last, my friends, allow me to introduce you to my nemesis. Turkey Number 3 is the largest turkey I’ve seen in my life, though I believe he’s at least 80% ruffled feathers and air. And he is mad.

To be perfectly honest I’m still not sure what he was mad at. I believe it was a combination of 1.) mad at Turkey 1 for having a girlfriend he wanted, 2.) mad at me for invading what I now realize is clearly His Park, or 3.) mad at me for being a potential challenger for Turkey 2, which. Isn’t actually his girlfriend. She’s Turkey 1’s girlfriend. But it’s whatever, yknow? 

(My mom has offered a potential fourth explanation, which is that Turkey 3 viewed ME as a potential turkey girlfriend, despite the fact that I am neither a girl nor a girlfriend nor a turkey nor a turkey girlfriend, or any combination of these. My mother believes he was attempting to woo me through impressive displays of force. I have henceforth refused to entertain my mother’s suggestion for my own sanity.)

So. Despite attempting to rationally and calmly explain to Turkey 3, my soon-to-be nemesis, that I am not interested in stealing anyone’s turkey girlfriend, he refuses to be placated. He puffs up larger than I thought possible for a turkey and charges directly at my blanket. Not only does he make deafening enraged gobbling noises that can certainly be heard halfway across the city, he also emits a variety of enraged puffing and huffing and squawking noises. Did you guys know that turkeys can extend all of their feathers at once, creating a “blast-off” sound effect that simultaneously propels them forwards? Neat, right? I didn’t know that either! 

Now I do.

Having failed on Potential Reason Turkey Is Mad Number 3, I move to Potential Reason Turkey is Mad Number Two. I attempt to explain, again calmly and rationally, that if the turkey will just allow me a moment to put on my shoes so I don’t stab my feet on the seeds and roll up my blanket, I will gladly vacate his park. 

Despite clearly wanting me to leave, Turkey 3 resists my each and every attempt to do so. He maintains a respectful 6-foot social distancing if I remain standing. The second I bend down and reach for my shoes, however, he puffs and gobbles and charges at me. And so I straighten up, my nemesis backs off, and the cycle repeats. 

Friends. My absolute bastard of a newfound nemesis holds me hostage there for thirty minutes like this. And he’s good at it, too. Sometimes he’ll give me false hope too, wander off to fight Turkey Number 1 for his girlfriend’s hand/wing (said girlfriend is still munching seeds off the ground, clearly disgusted with them both.) I’ll take advantage of his distraction, bend down and reach for my shoes—and my nemesis will come charging out from behind a tree or materialize out of thin air, squawking and gobbling and puffing with the force of a thousand suns. (I still have no idea how he knew when I was reaching for my shoes. He must’ve had some ingrained sort of nemesis-sense.)

Now, you might be asking, Milk, how on earth did you escape? Did you pull off some clever and daring maneuver? No. It was because someone else happened to be stupider than I was. 

We’ll call him Baseball Cap Guy. Baseball Cap Guy enters the park, sees the turkeys, and decides it’s a really smart idea to attempt to PET Turkey Number Two on the head.

That went about as well as you would expect. 

Turkey Numbers 1 and 3 immediately put aside their differences to tag team Baseball Cap Guy. Inspirational, really. Turkey Number 2 resumes eating berries and seeds, supremely unbothered and supremely disgusted.

And I, Milk, take advantage of the commotion to jam my shoes onto my feet, snatch up my blanket, and hightail it out of the park. I use the remaining 5% of my battery to inform my mother and friends and roommate that I have not, in fact, been murdered by the turkey mafia. Then I made straight for home, hoping against hope that Victorian Maiden Turkey wasn’t tailing me or hiding behind a bush waiting to trip me and suchlike.

Now, it would be easy to think that the Baseball Cap Guy was an absolute idiot for trying to pet a wild turkey. I’m not saying that’s an incorrect conclusion. However, there was a point during the first wave where Turkey Number One was approached by an older lady on her afternoon power walk. I was hoping against hope I wasn’t about to watch a sweet old lady get mauled by a turkey. She, delighted, whips open her phone and begins to coo—actually coo— at the bird like she’s his auntie, like ohh, what a handsome little man you are! Your feathers are so soft—and how puffy you are, mister! and all that.

And—Turkey Number 1 absolutely eats that up. He struts back and forth, posing for her and clucking at her and letting her take her fill of photos for a solid 5 minutes.

So. My current hypothesis is that there is a Continuum of Turkey Vibes, ranging from Old Lady (preen for photoshoot) to Milk (???) to Baseball Cap Guy (attack on sight).

And uh. That’s the story, folks. I survived finals, returned home unscathed, and have spent the summer anticipating a rematch. I’ve also spent some time reflecting—it’s strange, having a nemesis. I’ve always wanted a nemesis. I didn’t quite picture them as a turkey, per say, but for some reason it just feels right, yknow? I think we’re compatible. I both dread and oddly look forward to our next meeting.

You’ll be pleased to know that the first thing I did upon returning to school this fall was go back to the park, ya know, like a fool. The first trip was pretty quiet. I introduced Turkey Number Two and some of her besties to my mom. I went back once to study at the park. That time, I met no less than 12 turkeys, many of which were little turklings. I think I introduced them to my mom, so I get to meet the family now? Unsure. Anyways. 

I also witnessed a man, with a golden retriever and a turkey sitting side-by-side in front of him. The man tossed dog treats one after another to the golden retriever and to the turkey. (Spoiler alert: this one ended with a pack of five turkeys chasing the man and his dog down the street once he ran out of treats.)

Fun fact! Did you know turkeys can fly? No, really—not just “hold themselves aloft for short distances” but like “fly up into extremely tall trees, making a colossal ruckus as they beat their wings rapidly and gobble and yell?”

Anyways, once it was growing quite dark and impossible to make out anything other than the silhouettes of no less than five gigantic birds looming high in the branches above me, ready to launch themselves directly on top of my head at a moment’s notice, I decided it was time to exit the park for the evening.

I still haven’t run into my nemesis yet. That’s okay—I think I’m beginning to infiltrate the turkey ranks a bit. And I know he hasn’t forgotten about me. He’s just out there, biding his time.

Please admire these photographs of my nemesis as well as his magnificent ass. Thank you for your time.

[the-fiction-witch]

Family

Media The Queens Gambit

Character Benny Watts

Couple Benny X Reader

Rating Dark AF

Warning Torture / attempted SA

I sat in my leather chair with my notebook trying to do some maths about the next few days, Y/n came over in her little white fluffy slippers, her little black dress, and her sweet backcombed Y/H/C hair with a white lace band to push her hair back, she set a cup of coffee on the table beside me and I smiled at her. I took her soft skin in my hand holding her arm to tug her down and give her lips a soft kiss. "Thank you babydoll," "You're welcome," she smiled, "How's it going?" She asked heading back to the kitchen, "Fine, trying to work out things," I chuckled, "Did you wanna pop out for dinner tonight don't feel like cooking, plus we leave tomorrow so not a lot in the fridge," "That's up to you I don't mind cooking up a… uhhh yeah I think we should go out," she chuckled after checking the fridge herself, "Alright Chinese food? Pizza? Burgers?" she asked as she got on her socks and shoes, "You know… I am kinda feeling burgers, like a nice burger with some cheese fries," "Ohhh okay, put your shoes on then," I laughed and set my stuff down grabbed my wallet and slipped on my shoes, my jacket and my hat as she grabbed her handbag. We headed out and I locked up the apartment taking Y/n's hand as we headed up to the streets, we didn't bother to take the car it wasn't a far walk and it meant we could cuddle up as we walked together.

When we arrived I opened the door for her and got a kiss for it and we got ourselves a booth and some food sharing our food as we usually do, "Ummm… we should go out more often," Y/n smiled, "I know we should, we get wrapped up in routine too much," "It happens, still we'll have fun on our trip won't we?" "Of course we will, It is the US championship after all I'm sure we'll have lots of fun, see everyone, and have some nice restaurant dinners," "And some nice hotel room time, maybe even some nice sleepy morning room service," she giggled holding my hand, "Humm that sounds perfect babydoll," I kissed her hand as we finished up our dinner before we began to walk home, "Ummm…" she yawned, "You alright Y/n?" I asked, "It's barely five you're already tried?" "Ummm," she nodded almost falling over, "Whoa! Sit down babydoll, sit down," I told her helping her to sit on a nearby stoop step, "You okay Y/n?" I asked kneeling beside her and seeing how she almost fell asleep the moment she sat down, "It's okay we can stop here for as long as you need babydoll," I told her as I sat down and cuddled her so she could lay her head on my chest, "You take as long…" I yawned, "As long as you need Y/n," I yawned again, "Umm… I think we both need to uhh… sit for…" I rubbed my eyes and tried to keep myself awake but after only a few seconds I found myself drifting off too.

I woke as the light hit my face, my eyes blurry and heavy I forced my eyes to focus and saw the situation I was in. My arms tied behind my back on a chair, my ankles tied to the legs of the chair, my body tried and bruised, I was in a dark room with only a single light bulb above me. Three men stood over me and immediately I knew them. "Evening Samus." "Evening. I hope you don't mind our little invitation." "Well I could hardly deny it could I?" "No, you couldn't." He smirked, "You know why you're here." "I do. and you can fuck off." Samus nodded to his men and they immediately decked me, so I spat the blood from my mouth onto his white shirt, "I admit. I missed his love taps." "It's simple Benny. You agree to drop out of the championship and everything is rosy," "Why would I do that?" "We have a lot of cash rolled up in that boy." "Not my fault you backed the wrong horse." "Just don't go. Simple as. Stay home in your dim little basement with your little girly and let Danny win." "No. I am US champion and have been since I was fourteen I am not taking a drive for your precious little prince!" I yelled, "Ohh you will." he smirked, "You are going to dive. you are going to let Danny win. Sixteen eighty. That would pay off your debts, wouldn't it? It's yours. If you dive." "Fuck off!" I told him, "I am not bowing down to you. or your money. The federation found out they would ban me for life. Chess is the second most important thing in my life and I am not wrecking it for you!" "Really." He smirked before he glanced at his men, they briefly left the room and returned with a restained Y/n, "Let her go." "What was that?" "Let her go! Let her go she isn't part of this!" "Ohh she is now." "Let. her. Go." "Hello Y/n," he smirked as he went over and stroked her Y/H/C hair, "LET HER GO!" I demanded, "Y/n Babydoll…" "I'm okay. I'm okay." She nodded as they tied her up hanging from the ceiling with her arms above her head, "How long can you hold out? When it's not your blood on the floor?" Samus smirked, as his men began to hit her, slap her, torment and torture her, "LET HER GO! For god sake she has nothing to do with this let her go!" I begged and screamed almost breaking my wrists to make them stop, tears flooded my face to watch them hurt her but she never screamed never gave them the satisfaction of her pain, "Y/n!" "I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm okay…" She lied, "Do as we ask. and We'll let her go." "No." "Then she will suffer until you agree." "I am not throwing my life away so you can make a quick buck!" "Fair enough," he laughed before they got worse twisting her arms, burning her skin, cutting her skin to be bloody and bruised, "Stop this! leave her alone!" I yelled, "Please!" "What was that…" "Please… Just leave her alone." "I'm fine. I can take it." she lied, "Humm she's stronger than you are." Samus laughed, "Drop out of the championship and we'll let you both go." "Even if I did. there is no way he'd win." "He's a chess prodigy!" "Only cause you paid off everyone he ever plaid!" I yelled back, "Bullshit." "It's not bullshit! He can't play!" "Who… are we talking about?" Y/n spoke up, "…She doesn't know?" he laughed, "No," I answe Y/H/C, "Ooohh… that's just perfect," he smirked as he sent his men away and began to circle Y/n, "Should I tell her?" "Don't. You. Dare." "Ohh I think I should, it's not right keeping things from my daughter-in-law."

"Daughter in Benny what's he talking about?" Y/n began to Panic, "Ohhh this is gonna be fun," Samus laughed, "No!" I yelled, "I'll tell her." I sighed, "Y/n… I know I should have told you before we got married… But. This. Is… Samus." "Pleasure to meet you," He smirked, "Yeah hi…" she nodded, "He's the head of the New York Mafia." I sighed, "And… he's…" "Benny's my son," He smirked, "So- He's your father!" Y/n yelled, "Yes…" I sighed, "He's my father. An Utter deadbeat of a father!" "Don't you take that tone with me I gave you everything!" "You gave me nothing!" I screamed, "My whole life you gave me nothing! and now you want something from me and expect me to give it to you!" "You're my son. This is a family business. Why can't you just put aside your pride and do as I ask." "Becuase I don't care about the family business I never did! You didn't give a shit about me why should I give a shit about your business!" "You are a disgrace to this family." "Good. I wanna be." I told him, "I'd rather die than be a son that made you proud!" "You are a Lincon!" "I'M A WATTS!" I yelled, "You are, aren't you…" he sighed, "I am not your son. I never want to be associated with you. much less your dumb ass plan to make Danny a grandmaster!" "He is your brother!" "Half brother! And You always did everything for him so why should I give a shit to help him now!" "Half bro- Ohh my god Danny…" Y/n realized, "My younger son. My better son." Samus smirked, "He had a ranking of sixty two he's shit! he only wins becuase you pay everyone off to let him win!" I yelled, "What are you gonna do to pay off the Paris tournament for him!? Pay off the World championship!? Pay off the Russians for him!?" "He is my son. and I will do anything to give him what he wants." "Only becuase you know you'll make your money back cause you've told everyone to bet on him." "You could have had this too. If you'd stayed, We'd have made you both Grandmasters." "You can fuck off! I don't want your help! I don't want your money! never did! I will be a grandmaster on my own steam and I will show the world the fraud he is!" "Throw the tournament. go or not I don't care but let him win." "Why would I do that?" "Becuase if you don't… I'm keeping her," he smirked wrapping his arms around Y/n, "NO! NO! Get away from her!" I screamed, "You will not hurt her! You are not having her! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY WIFE!" "No. I think I'll keep her." He smirked as his hands roamed around her which made her scream and argue with him trying to get his hands off, "Let's take your pretty wife for a test drive… see made you marry her." he smirked ripping off her dress and began touching her more aggressively, "LET GET GO!" I screamed crying as I tried to force my way out of the chair, "Ohh she is beautiful," he growled, "I see why you married her. I'd have married her for that ass too," he smirked as he forced off her panties and undid his belt,

"LET GET GO! I'll do what you want just let her go!" I screamed, "Will you now?" He smirked, "I'll let Danny win! just let her go!" "Good boy," He smirked, "But I think I can't resist," he growled, "NOOOOOOOO Nooooooo nooo please just let het go!" I begged "Boss! We got a problem!" One of his men rushed back in, He did up his trousers and headed out with him, "I'm so so sorry Y/n…." "It's okay. It's okay…" She nodded through her tears, There was banging and shouting beyond the door for a while until it silenced and In came a familiar face, "Danny!" "Hi Benny," He nodded, He let me out so I quickly bolted to Y/n and let her go, giving her my shirt to cover her up and giving her a million kisses, "Umm I love you, I love you, I'm so so so sorry babydoll," I told her between kisses, "What's going on?" I asked, "I shot him," Danny nodded, "You shot him!" I asked, "Yeah police are on the way," He nodded, "Why? After everything he's done for you?" "…Yeah but… your my brother." he said, "Besides. I hate chess." "Thank you, Danny," "You're welcome, now get the hell out of here before they take you too," He took Y/H/C us out and even gave us some money from the safe before we left.

We walked shivering through the rainy New York streets holding each other in a death-like grip until we got back to the apartment and bolted the door. "Are you okay Babydoll?" "Yeah… I'm okay are you-" "I'm fine, so long as you okay I'm happy," I told her giving her a soft kiss, "I love you so much Y/n," "I love you too Benny," she nodded, "Let's get ourselves wrapped up and maybe a trip to the hospital." "Yeah that sounds like a good idea," I chuckled,