#sorry kurt good luck

[nghtshroud]

There is no verbal response to Kurt’s reaction, a gentle cant of the Ghost Face’s mask being the only sign that there is a person under all that darkness, and not some awful psychopomp come to drag him to hell. His grasp loosens, and it is just enough to flip the blade over and between fingers, that razor edge hidden behind his fist. He’s no stranger to close quarters, more than a single victim had fought back, and then there was his father… 

It's what his dad had always wanted, a killer of man woman and child, but never theirs. He wanted Danny to murder without repercussions, across the ocean. It had always been them and never us, they are different and dangerous, we are the heralds of safety and freedom. Patriotic bullshit spewed when a few too many drinks piled up on the coffee table, one thrown across the room at him when he made an offhand comment; we’re all dangerous, to them, to one another, you hypocrite! Well, dad, look at how that panned out. You raised a killer all right! Drill after drill pretending to raise him right so he was prepared to enlist when he was old enough. Danny will admit, the training wasn’t all for naught. It gave him that rage-induced drive to put his old man in the dirt, confidence that his first design would not end up with him locked away in a box somewhere. 

A soft scoff escapes between grinning lips, hidden behind his guise. 

“The one, and the only,” comes a reply dripping venom. “You’re playing a game I don’t appreciate, kid, and you’ll make a fine example to any others.” 

He wasn’t quite to the point of a blissful rage at the moment, but some darkness set into his bones cries out for blood to spill. Danny knows it isn’t part of the plan, that working on the fly rarely yielded the results that he desired. Results, like what, Danny? Did you really want this dumb kid to die because he’d gotten off on killing? That wasn’t it, he did not give a single fuck if people died. Not even had Kurt’s victims been too far from the norm of his own; normal people living normal lives and dying just the same. So, what was it? 

Jealousy, perhaps, that someone else had taken a marker to his drawing board and scribbled all across it without his permission. 

Something deeper pulls taut and he feels ready to SNAP. 

It’s not even a breath of pause before he lunges at Kurt, pulling his arm back with clear intent to sink a knife’s serrated teeth into the younger killer. His free hand comes up between the two of them so he might keep the other’s weapon from finding purchase on his person, outstretched, and a way to keep them close together. He doesn’t have the stability to even consider that another killer might be able to react fast enough, what might happen if he doesn’t stick his knife into any piece of flesh he could reach. 

Kurt had always been a complex man, at least in his ability to be a highly effective serial killer, a remorseless and merciless murderer, while also being painfully unable to engage in the simplest of human activities. He was able to stalk his victims for days, over a week even if he needed to, and was able to keep the police off his tail for just as long. He wasn't even a suspect by the end of it, just another poor victim to a string of senseless murders. On the other side, however, perhaps it was due to him being too cocky or too oblivious, or perhaps just due to the other's exceptionally better skills, that he was barely able to detect the sudden shift in the air. It was silent, even for a junkyard, but his mind was too preoccupied with his nightly duties to notice the figure stalking him from the shadows.

It's only when he finally turns, his head ducking out from under the trunk of his car does he finally realize his predicament, his eyes widening and his jaw clenching as he nearly jumps out of his own skin. His trash bags are forgotten and a hand flies to a familiar weapon kept in the back for just emergencies - a knife, as identical to blade the man before him used. His heart pounded in his chest, in his ears, and there was a brief second flare of anger at being disturbed by some unknown stranger before it cooled nearly as quick as it formed. Kurt was no stranger to the face that stared back at him, pale white with darkness itself for eyes. A mask he modeled his own after, a man he'd been chasing for weeks.

He swallows, a mixture of fear an excitement that made his muscles feel electric coursed through him. He felt hot, he felt cold.

" Holy shit, " He speaks, almost breathless as his body attempted to figure out what emotion he was feeling. His hand still held onto the knife.

" You- are you- are you, you? Him? You're- are you really him? " More excitement crept into his voice than fear, though one could assume it was the adrenaline taking over. Fight or flight that hadn't yet kicked into gear.

[newexcalibur]

hi

I saw you say to maia that you know how neopronouns work in german, and as a non native learner of german (and also someone who likes linguistics) i was wondering if you could explain them?

ty

Unfortunately I don't know much about them at all :( I'm also a non-native learner and while I've read some things about German neos, I've never really had the opportunity to use them.

I think a lot of native German speakers these days tend to just use English whenever possible? German neos definitely do exist but I get the sense that they're not as common as in English.

I do know that pronouns.page has a German section which might be helpful in finding some neutral language, at least!

[hairstevington]

call me when you get this

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are best friends, but even the best of friends have secrets.

WC: 3K

Warnings: Story told through voicemails, mild angst, coming out to each other, secret feelings, friends to lovers, kissing, swearing, light angst very brief, references to Robin and Gareth, drunk shenangians, idiots in love, set in 1991 but it doesn't matter too much, no mention of the Upside Down stuff

A/N: I have like three other WIP's happening and zero time but this idea was given to me by the beloved @tinytalkingtina in the discord and then I couldn't get it out of my head. Ao3 link here for those interested!

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 12:52am

GARETH hi yes I know it’s late but HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE ALBUM YET? I need all of your thoughts immediately. Like, all of them. Every thought. Dude, my head is spinning. Ohhh, man. Kurt is a fuckin’ legend. Woooow. Okay, I could talk about this shit for like three hours but I don’t want to run out your tape so just call me back when you get this and then talk to me about it for three hours. Can I come over a little early tomorrow? Yeah, I’m gonna come over a little early tomorrow. Maybe a lot early. Alright, catch ya then. 

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 3:40pm

Uhh, ha. Hey Steve. Thiiiis is Eddie, obviously. I, uh, I just realized I called you in the middle of the night last night on accident, and - uhh, sorry about that. It was just - ah, screw it. You know what I am. Byeeeeee-

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 7:30pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eds, how many times do I have to tell you to change your answering machine message? What if, like, the president calls? Okay, maybe not the president. But an employer or something. Or, like, what if you give the girl of your dreams your number and she calls you and hears THAT? Food for thought. Uhh, anyway, it’s fine. I wasn’t even home when you called me. Robin was, though, and so you’ll probably hear her wrath next time you come over for movie night. Good luck with that. Oh, wait. You’re at a show tonight, right? Damn. I swear I’ll make the next one. Okay, bye, dickhead. 

Wednesday, September 25th, 1991, 1:12pm

“You have reached Steve Harrington. Figured I should say that in case whoever is calling me thinks they’re calling someone else. Anyway, I’m busy right now so I’ll call you back. Bye!”

Ha, ha. You are so funny, Harrington. You ever think about being a stand-up comedian? Jesus, and you say I’M the dramatic one. Uhh, the show last night went well, by the way. Not that you were THERE. Seriously, what kind of friend even are you? I’m hurt, Steve. I’m hurt. Anyway, see you tomorrow for movie night. I get to pick. It’s only fair, right?

Thursday, September 27th, 1991, 4pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

You’re not picking the goddamn movie. No way. Last time you did that we got scarred for life. Also, um. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not about me and your shows. I didn’t realize you - uhh, you’re probably joking. Forget I said anything, and see you tonight. I’m at work right now, so I’m gonna rent some backup options just in case.

Sunday, September 30th, 1991, 2pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dustin says you were being a total dick last night. Good. That shrimp deserves to be humbled every once in a while. Your answering machine message still sucks, by the way, and yeah I’m gonna tell you every time. 

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:21pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steve. My guy. I can’t believe you make fun of me for my bullshit message all the time and now you’ve created and advertised THAT abomination?? I’m - wow. I forgot why I even called.

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:23pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Okay, I remember now. I know you said you have that date tomorrow with Heidi or Melissa or Samantha or whoever is currently obsessed with you, but I really do want you at the show if you can make it. You can bring her, if you want. Actually, it might be a good test. If she hates metal, she fails. I only want the best suitors for you, Steve Harrington. Be there or I’ll be REALLY annoying about it forever. 

Tuesday, October 2nd, 1991, 11:45pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Hey, it’s Steve. So, uh - I saw your show tonight. You’re probably not home yet, but I don’t know where you are. Cuz like, I tried to find you after your set but you disappeared. I hope everything’s okay. You sounded great, by the way. I mean, you all did. Remember me when you’re playing at the Garden? Oh also, I heard like three women talk about how badly they wanted you, so…I dunno, just figured you’d like to hear that. Hey, maybe you got with one of them and that’s why you’re not answering. In that case, hope you’re having fun? Okay, now it’s weird. Bye, Eds.

Wednesday, October 3rd, 12:54am

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steeeeeeeeeeeve. You absolute buffoon. You beautiful, oblivious man. Why’dya think I wanted you there’so badly t’night, Steve? T’wasn’t for the girls. Ha, girls. Yeah, okay. I may have had several alcoholic beverages, Steve-o, but you’re still the dumbass. Cuz you’d have to be an absolute idiot t’think I have any interest in those women. ‘Specially yours. Your women, I mean. Sandyyyyy. Ugh, she was perfect for you, Harrington. Juuuust perfect. So perfect I didn’t wanna stick around to see any more of it. I hope you two have beautiful children. Name one after me, will you? Uhhhh I think I might puke. So, I’m gonna go, but - but do you get what I’m saying? Do you - do you get it? Tell me you get it. Steve, I - Oh, hey Gareth. Do you wanna talk to Steve? Wait why are you - Dude, I’m FINE. I’m handling it! Stop! Gareth, don’t hang up the phone, I haven’t -!

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 9:05am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dude, did you fucking break into our apartment last night? Robin and I came home this morning and found a broken lock and some shitty note we could barely read next to the answering machine, and - what the fuck, man? You wiped the damn thing clean. Just - call me back, okay? Jesus. 

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 11:36am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eddie, come on. We really need to talk. I’m not - I’m not mad, honest to God. Call me back, as soon as you get this. Got it?

Thursday, October 4th, 1991, 3:47pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

It’s movie night, but I’m assuming you won’t be here considering you’ve pulled your magic disappearing act. Thanks for that, by the way. You know you really piss me off sometimes? All the time, actually. I’m getting real tired of you constantly poking fun at me, and then you pull this breaking and entering shit and just take off? Just like that? We’ve been friends for years, Eds. You and me. But you never want to just be serious, not once in your goddamn life, and I’m over it. So, uh, thanks for that, I guess. I dunno what I did. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:12pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

Huh. You know what? I kind of miss the old message you had. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m impossible to please, yada yada yada, and now I’m doing the avoiding with humor thing again. Shit. Uhh, hi. Listen, I’m sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. Really, really fucking sorry, if you can believe it. I was just, like, mad embarrassed, and I didn’t wanna - uh, can we meet up soon? Alone? Like, without Robin even? I know that’s - like, unheard of these days, but I figure maybe you’d make an exception for me. Or maybe you won’t. Just let me know, yeah? 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:30pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

See, I would just hop on over to your place to talk but the thing is, I’m a total chickenshit and it’s not like I did super well the last time I showed up to your place unannounced, so…Uhh, while we’re on the subject, I’m sorry about your lock. If you haven’t replaced it yet, I will. I’ll at least pay you back. In my defense, that thing was like two seconds from falling off anyway. But still. Anyway, I know you always spend Sundays at home, soooo…hellooooo? Come on. At least pick up the phone and tell me to fuck off. I know you’re listening. At least - I hope you are, anyway. Just pick up, man. I - I really gotta talk to you. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:37pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

So, quick update, I called Henderson. He confirmed you are at home, which means you are DEFINITELY listening, and either you’re trying to punish me or a part of you still finds my piece of shit ass charming somehow. Look, I know I fucked up, but - but I can explain. Shit. I mean, I’m not good with words or anything and I’m a total asshole but I - just, please. Pick up. Pick uuuuup. Come on. Now you’re just being a dick. Ha. Figures, I’m apologizing and calling you a dick in the same message. Dude. Seriously. Your tape is gonna run out of space and then what? You stop hearing from me? I’ll find other ways to annoy you, promise. This is a threat. Steve. Steeeeve. Pick up pick up pick up pick upppp -

“Will you just shut the hell up already?”

Eddie dropped the phone and heard it clack against the floor. He would have recognized that voice anywhere. 

He turned around and there he was. 

“Steve, what are you -?”

“You would just be yapping on that damn answering machine my whole drive here,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I expected any less. And, thanks to you, we had all the space in the world for you to take up, so -”

“H-how did you get in here?” Eddie stuttered. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s not afraid of breaking and entering?”

They hadn’t seen each other in five days. Hadn’t even talked, aside from a few voicemails. And those never told the whole story. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie began. 

“Yeah, you should be,” Steve replied, taking a step closer to Eddie in the kitchen. 

Eddie winced, his heart racing a million miles a minute. He just had to get all of the words out, while he still could. While Steve was listening. 

“I left you this really stupid voicemail,” Eddie explained. “That night, after the show. I was drunk off my ass, and - and Gareth told me I’d said shit I shouldn’t have said, and then I panicked, and the two of us went to your apartment and I - well, you know the rest.” He slumped down into the chair at the dining room table, putting his head in his hands. “Which is all just so dumb. And I didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath, so…”

“So you stopped talking to me?” Steve said, taking another step closer. “Because you thought that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in our friendship?”

Eddie shook his head. “I dunno, I -”

“You’ve done some real weird shit over the years, Munson,” Steve continued. “Sneaking into my apartment doesn’t even make the top three.”

Eddie buried his face in his hair. No amount of boyish charm would get him out of this one. Jesus H. Christ. 

He sighed. “Okay, so I overreacted, what else is new?” 

“I heard the voicemail, dickhead.”

Eddie’s heart went from breakneck speeds to stopping entirely. 

“What?”

Steve sat down in the other seat at the table. “I heard the voicemail. It was 1am, again, so yeah I was at home.”

“I thought you would have been with Sandy,” Eddie muttered.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, Sandy was - she’s great and all, but she isn’t - she’s not -”

“So you heard the voicemail, but you weren’t home when I showed up,” Eddie noted.

“Right,” Steve said. “Because I was headed to your place.”

“What?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I just - I didn’t understand why you never told me you were queer. Like, you know I don’t care about that. You know about Robin…”

As Steve talked, Eddie realized that Steve only heard half of what that voicemail was trying to express. So, it was time for Eddie Munson to face the music. 

“I didn’t tell you I’m gay because I knew that once I did, you’d figure out the rest of it,” Eddie blurted out.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “The rest of it?”

Eddie groaned. “Oh, God. See, drunk me had the right idea saying this kind of shit over an answering machine. Christ, I’m so bad at this, but I’m just gonna say it, because if I don’t I think I’ll lose my shot with you and I - I can’t deal with that. So, here we go.” He squeezed his eyes shut and powered through. “Steve, I - ha, shit. I love you, dude. I’m - I’m IN love with you. I have been since, like, forever.” He opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on their feet against the linoleum kitchen floor. “Which is, uhh, a lot, I know. But it’s the truth. So if there’s any chance -”

“Oh, my God,” Steve interrupted. His voice wasn’t angry, or scared, or anything like that. It was soft and understanding. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Wait, what are you thinking?” He looked up to see Steve staring off into the distance before meeting his gaze. 

“I’m thinking,” Steve replied. “That I owe Robin twenty bucks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and felt his heart skip back into rhythm. “You do?”

Steve nodded with a slight smile. At some point, his hand had ended up on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah, I didn’t believe her. Told her no way, not possible.”

Eddie didn’t know how to feel about this reaction. It wasn’t the worst possible response, but it certainly wasn’t Oh, Eddie! How I’ve longed for you all this time! Take me now! 

A middleground, if you will. 

“Oookay,” Eddie said. “Well, I don’t really know what to say now.”

“I’m queer too, ya know,” Steve continued.

"Wait, really?" Eddie balked. "Steve Harrington, ladies man?"

Steve chuckled. "Uh, yeah. Turns out, not so much," he said. "I feel like I’m pretty open about it. Guys, girls, whatever -”

“Yeah, but we all do that,” Eddie reasoned. “Me, you, and Robin all talking about how hot everyone is on our movie nights. It doesn’t prove anything.”

“Except that it totally does,” Steve countered. “Because, like, what do we all have in common?"

Eddie thought about it, and he didn’t have any other defenses.

“O-okay, so you’re queer too,” Eddie said. “And the other thing I said?”

Steve took a deep breath and looked Eddie directly in his frightened eyes.

“Eds, obviously I love you too,” Steve admitted at last. “Come on, seriously? After all I’ve put up with? I’ve been waiting around for like five days for you to call, like some lovesick puppy, and the moment I heard your voice I drove here instead of picking up the phone like a normal person. I’ve got it so bad for you that Robin is sick of it, and honestly, I’m sick of it too, because I hate having feelings. It blows, dude. I swear to God, if you try to bolt again when things get tough -”

Eddie lunged forward and cut Steve’s words off with a kiss. Their first kiss, even if it didn’t feel that way. Eddie had cupped Steve’s cheek in the past while he teased him. Steve had curled his fingers in Eddie’s hair in the past the night Robin taught him how to braid. Eddie and Steve had all kinds of physical contact in various ways over the years, and it was as if all of that was just practice for this. 

Eddie broke away from Steve’s lips purely out of necessity, because he needed to catch his breath. “Okay, woah,” he said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Woah.”

Everything changed after that. But also, nothing changed at all.

-

Tuesday, October 16th, 1991, 4:12pm

“Hey, this is Eddie Munson’s phone. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”

Hi, Eds. Okay, I was wrong. This new message you have is, like, super boring. Anyway, I’ll see you at the show tonight, Rockstar. Love you. 

xx

I did have a taglist way back when but the tagging system is super annoying on tumblr, so please reblog this if you liked it and follow me or my Ao3 for other works! Masterlist is the pinned post on my page for those interested. Thanks for reading!

[book-girl4evaaa]

╰┈➤ ❝STEP INTO MY CANDY STORE ❞ ˚ ☽˚ ｡⋆.

(Aka my 250 follower event!)

Gjdgdgkkddykh 250 people like me? This is wild! I love you all so much, you guys are awesome and you are like my best friends, thank you so so much <3

Here's my intro for the newbies

Anyways onto the event!

Hey new kid, greetings and salutations! Welcome to Westerberg High: the only high school on the planet that might literally have you dead before the second semester. The school where teen angst bs usually has a bodycount.

Yeah, this place is... A lot. Parties, hallway fights, lots of gossip and a little murder. I guess everyone here is a little damaged.

But, worry not, newbie, I've summoned my best friends and/or worst enemies (same difference!) to help you around this little thunderdome of a school.

Good luck! You'll probably need it...

Rules: 1 request per ask (although send as many asks as you want), and if an option has a "☽˚｡⋆." next to it, it's mutuals only! Also I'm quite slow at answering, sorry!

(Also the quotes are from memory so they might be a bit off lol)

╰┈➤ Veronica Sawyer

But I know, I know, I know / life can be beautiful / I pray, I pray, I pray / for a better way

Veronica knows a lot about this school, from whatever your angle

I'll give you some advice: you can give me a specific thing, or I'll just do something general stuff

╰┈➤ Heather Chandler ˚ ☽˚ ｡⋆.

I'd normally slap your face off / And everyone here could watch / But I'm feeling nice / Here's some advice / Listen up beeyotch

Heather Chandler has the whole school in the palm of her hand, and dresses like it

I'll pick you an outfit from Pinterest!

╰┈➤ Heather Duke

It's my turn / It's my prize / I spit lightning / Crack, boom!

Heather Duke is dangerously confident when given the chance

I'll give you a pep talk, either general or about something specific, and give you an inspirational quote

╰┈➤ Heather McNamara ˚ ☽˚ ｡⋆.

And I'm like, "damnit, I'm on the stupid bus again because all my rides to school are dead!"

Heather McNamara is a sweetheart, and can overshare

Ask me any question and I will answer

╰┈➤ Jason Dean ˚ ☽˚ ｡⋆.

We can start and finish wars / we're what killed the dinosaurs / we're the asteroid that's overdue

Jason Dean likes murder and poetry

I'll write you a poem (please give me a topic)

╰┈➤ Martha Dunnstock

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending

Martha loves stories, and has a huge heart

I'll give you an extract of one of my many wips :)

╰┈➤ Ram and Kurt ˚ ☽˚ ｡⋆.

"Did you actually just speak to me?" "My buddy Kurt just asked you a question." *Grunts of respect*

Kurt and Ram are inseparable

I'll assign you a book or character (please specify which you want)

Well pick wisely, new kid, if you want to make it through the year. But I hope things work out for you. If you need a hand anytime, call me; maybe we could grab a slushie.

Oh and by the way, me and the group are going for a movie night tonight, watching the princess bride. Stop by if you want...

And who knows? Maybe, this year, our school could finally be beautiful.

.⋆｡˚☾˚ We can be seventeen

We can learn how to chill

If no one loves me now

One day somebody will ˚ ☽˚ ｡⋆.

[w1zard0foz]

because i’ve committed to this now i guess: rewatching apocalypse:

some thoughts:

SCOTT !!

KURT !! KURT !! KURT !!

THE SUMMERS !!!

JUBILEE !!

everyday i wish jubilee had more screen time

“i think that was probably my favourite tree”

ugh moira (i don’t like moira)

off topic (there is no topic) but erik looks so good with those safety glasses

also he should have just let that guy die tbh

(okay full disclosure i started this like two weeks ago and forgot about it but my mom randomly turned on apocalypse so i guess the universe decided i should finish it- here’s the rest)

“you don’t know what it’s like to be trapped inside your own head!” stfu jean

“not my babies” D: D: D:

poor little guy

ugh moira

oh erik

my baby- he needs a hug :(

(yes i am calling a grown ass man baby, but i am also a grown ass man and i do what i want)

“who the fuck are you?”

unfortunately the only time erik gets to say fuck (he deserves to say it more)

bro brought him back to the camps- he does not want to be thereeeee

PETER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

he feels charles in his mind before he even says anything

“charles..?” </3

“come back to us me”

i know what you are

“wreak havoc” STFU

oop

another absolutely phenomenal scene from peter

“where’s alex?” D: D: D:

“pretty sure i got everybody”

i just know that erik is the one who folded up charles’ jack to make a pillow for him

“i told you from the moment i met you that there is more to you, erik. there is good in you too.”

just fucking tell him you love him smh

“what’s wrong with you?! is that gonna happen to all of us?!?!”

who said these movies weren’t funny?

“he’s my father” “WHAT?!?!”

i’m sorry logan looks so goofy in the movie- i love him

kurt is so cute

“you have charles”

damn right he does

“i’m your- i’m here for my family too”

bro was not being subtle there is no way in hell erik didn’t figure it out

NOOO CHARLES NOT YOUR HAIR !!!

NOOOOOO

PUT IT BACK

if only kurt was a little bit faster </3

erik’s face when he realizes charles was in that plane

ACT III CHERIK EDIT

they should have set it to music

OH MY GOD ITS SO GAY

THE TEAR !! i fucking can’t

erik when peter gets hurt

he so knew

charles does not know that he’s bald

aghh erik!!! ily!!

ugh moira

erik ily but do you really have to be levitating all of the time???

he’s rebuilding charles’ house <3

the turtleneck <3 <3 <3

“you’re sure i can’t convince you to stay?”

“you’re psychic charles, you can convince me to do anything”

“goodbye, old friend”

“good luck professor”

AHHH JUST FUCKING KISS !!

cowards won’t give them comic accurate costumes </3

10/10 very gay

(maybe i do dark pheonix? idk)

[bitbybitwrites]

Ugh - life is so crazy, got to this really late. Sorry!

Thanks for tagging me in this and past six /seven/several sentence sundays and WIP Wednesdays that I've missed!:

@porcelainmortal, @alasse9 @sheepywritesfics @softboynick @forabeatofadrum

@daisyishedwig @sophie1973 @taste-thewaste @14carrotghoul @wordsofhoneydew

If I forgot anyone, I apologize!

****

What's been up with writing:

Well I recently posted my latest chapter in my Klaine fic, If I Can Make Your Heart My Home. I have quite a few writing asks to tackle (I'll get to them, I promise) and my immensely large WIP list . . .

But of course, because I'm a sucker for punishment, I started, what I am jokingly referring to as - one prompt, 2 ships 😂.

Basically saw a writing prompt on Tumblr and loved the idea so much I could see it fit in both for Klaine and FirstPrince.

So I started writing something for both because my brain won't let it go.

Both stories are fantasy AUs, each with a little "saving someone from a dragon" element aspect to it - we'll see where they go.

Pardon the silly fire themed titles - thought they went well with the dragon aspect of the story 😂

Really rough snippets are below:

baby won't you light my fire - Klaine WIP

“I’m not sure I understand, Sir, “ Blaine said, as he shifted uncomfortably in the heat of the summer sun, his leather jerkin feeling a bit stiff and uncomfortable. The sword strapped to his side grew heavy after his long journey from Westerville. 

Perhaps it was just the fatigue.  Perhaps it was his lack of a morning meal, thanks to him leaving at the crack of dawn to avoid his brother Cooper’s incessant questions about his latest quest.  Whatever the reason was, Blaine unable to focus on the words coming out of the other man’s mouth.

Burt sighed as he pushed his cloth cap from his head, rubbing his forehead.  “Perhaps it’s best I show you son.”

The blacksmith paused first to call out to dark innards of the forge.  “Finn!” He shouted “Finn!”

A tall, lanky young man emerged, a leather apron wrapped around his frame and a smear of soot across his forehead.  He removed a pair of thick gloves, also leather, from his hands as he squinted in the bright sunlight, spying Burt and giving him a bright smile.  “Yes, Burt?” He asked.

Burt nodded towards Blaine.  “This is Blaine.  He’s here to help your brother.”

For a moment, the younger blacksmith looked puzzled.  Then after noticing the sword at  his belt, the furrow on his brow smoothed. 

“OH . . .” Finn’s eyes lit up with understanding, and then softened a bit with sympathy just a moment later.  “I’m glad.  Don’t let Kurt intimidate you.  He’s got a . . um . . strong personality.”

Blaine nodded.  “I’ve had to rescue many a temperamental damsel in distress,” he confided, thinking back to Lady Kitty and the Baroness Sugar de Motta.  Those quests were nothing but headaches.  He tolerated it for the pay though.  “I think I should be fine.”

Finn’s eyes shifted from Burt to Blaine.  “Yes . . .” he said, appearing as if he was unsure how much farther to explain.  “Well, Kurt’s situation might be a bit different that any other ladies in ivory towers that needed saving,” the young blacksmith told Blaine cryptically.

“Well,” Burt said, as he coughed  and nodded, looking about nervously.  “I think we should get going before nightfall.  Tell your mother I may be home later for dinner.”

Finn nodded as he held out his hand to the visitor.  “Um . . .good luck, I guess,” Finn said.  “Safe travels and . . uh,” Finn straightened, puffing out his chest and lifting his chin.  “You make sure to treat my brother right, or you’ll have to deal with me.”

Blaine stared up wordlessly at Finn, clueless as to what he was trying to convey.

Burt snorted in the background.  “Finn,” he gently chastised his step-son.  “I think Kurt can take care of himself . . don’t you?”

“But I’m still the older brother . . .”

“Kurt is older than you.”

“Bigger brother then . . .“

With a chuckle, Burt gave his step son a look.  Finn begrudgingly sighed, his shoulders deflating a bit as he gave in.

“Fine . . .”  Finn still tried to give Blaine an intimidating glare.  “Just, be nice to Kurt, ok?” he asked.  “He’s been through a lot lately.”

Blaine nodded at the puzzling request.  “I promise.”

*****

2.) burn baby burn - FirstPrince WIP

“I think you’re crazy.”

Alex snorted as he shoved a few more items into his rucksack “You would," he countered.

His best friend rolled over from her position lying down. Her gilt embroidered slippers glinted in the early morning sun as she waggled her toes while she perched precariously on the bed. Her head hung over the edge and her dark curls reached downwards toward the floor. Nora continued watching him pack, with a smirk on her face. 

“Only you, Alejandro, would accept this sort of one-man-needed, dangerous, save-a-damsel-in-distress type of job”.  she said, still very amused. "Just face it, you’re hoping the princess is pretty and you might get a roll in the royal bedsheets before accepting payments and heading off on your way.”

A soiled shirt flew across the room and hit Nora squarely in the face.

Alex sighed.  “We are not discussing my love life right now.  I have to prepare for this job.”

“What love life?” Nora teased.

“Lalalallalalalalala . . .” June sang loudly as she entered, her hands full of items.  “No talking about my little brother’s love life.  Don’t want to know the details.”

“You sure, because there was that one time . . “ Alex began as he smirked.

June let out an exasperated sound and tossed the armful of items at her brother.  He quickly cursed, dropped what he was holding to attempt to catch everything hurtling his way. What items he failed to grasp floated in the air before him. June’s eyes twinkled as she wiggled her fingers causing them to dance around her brother’s head, inches out of his reach,  occasionally making  one or two dip down and smack him in the skull.

Nora cackled as she watched the siblings from her upside down position.

“Why on earth do I need all this , Bug?” Alex said exasperated, trying to jump up to catch a floating bundle of herbs, but failing to reach it miserably.

“Because you can’t go in and face a dragon by yourself (which is INSANE) . . “

“Told him that already!” chirped Nora

“ . . And not have some magic in your pocket. Since you won’t take me with you, I'm stocking you up on herbs and crystals.” June said firmly.

With a few swift waves of her hands all the items bounced into the air into a open bag of holding that dangled between her fingers. After peering inside, June sniffed, contented that it was ready. She tied the drawstrings of the velvet pouch shut and held it out to her younger sibling who took it reluctantly.  

It wasn't that Alex had anything against magic. But he was a more of a practical, hands-on swordsman for hire. Steel blades, arrows, maces . . working with any sort of weaponry was his forte, along with being devastatingly handsome and charming, the combination of the all of that usually was all that he needed to get the job done.

Magic had its own place, he figured. And he'd do anything to placate his sister's worries. So he tossed what he often referred to as June's "bag of rocks and weeds" into his rucksack.

“I’m not sending you out there unprepared, Lil Bit.  I’d like for you to come back in one piece . .  .“ June continued as she began weaving a spell to ensure his traveling cloak would be impervious to weather.

“And sexually satisfied . . “ crowed Nora.

June groaned, stopping mid way through her motions. “Did I not say I didn’t want to hear anything about that.”

*****

Tagging to share their WIP ( writing or art or anything) (if they want to and they haven't done so already!) :

@kirakiwiwrites, @madas-ahatters-world, @caramelcoffeeaddict @little-escapist @littlemisskittentoes

@datshitrandom, @justgleekout, @mynonah, @esilher

@myheartalivewrites @kiwiana-writes @spaceorphan18 @annepi-blog @special-bc-ur-part-of-it

@sarkyblueeyes @blueeyedgrlwrites , @gleefulpoppet and an OPEN TAG for anyone else who sees this.

[collectivecloseness]

Not Used To Visitors

Kurt Kunkle x reader

(Summary: When Kurt asks you to meet his dogs after a little while of dating he’s so happy to be able to share them with you! But he forgets that he’s not really brought a friend home for a long time, and how his dogs react to most strangers on their property. Notes: Reuploaded from my ao3 - this was my first fic in a while, and ever for Kurt, when originally posted)

“Hey y/n so- yeah! I h-heard you like dogs!”

You turned around to your doe eyed friend, well, you guessed he was closer to a boyfriend now, in all honesty you hadn’t had that talk because you thought it was still a little early to ask him about labels, and he was too awkward to ask. Dating was what you told people. And Kurt beamed every time you did, just like the way he was looking at you now.

You looked up at him from the passenger seat you’d just climbed in, smile upturning your cheeks in intrigue. “Yeah, I did say that. When you asked me yesterday Kurt.”

Kurt hopped in his seat at your response. “Well you’re in luck then mister-m-my love, because I’ve got some puppers who’re really excited to meetcha!”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up at this, and it seemed to give Kurt that little push of confidence he needed every time he’d started a new conversation with you once you’d asked him out. Especially when you didn’t react negatively at all to his last minute pet name. “Yeah-huh! Back at my home. They’re my grandpa’s pets but they live with me and my mom now.” He explained happily, seeming content to just sit in his car and talk with you, putting off the actual drive before he had to drop you off at your location. Luckily for him this proposal really caught your attention.

“Oh my god Kurt yeah you’ve mentioned your dogs before.” You grabbed his arm in both your hands as you spoke to shake it lightly, asking him why he hadn’t shown you them earlier. Truth is you mostly spent time in his car, out, or at yours. He’d taken you to the junkyard before, but not his home yet. To be fair, you hadn’t exactly known each other too long, you just couldn’t help but find this greasy gamer boy attractive.

Kurt dragged his eyes down to his arm, his throat bulging a little as he swallowed, feeling the warmth of your hands on him. “Yeah well... they’re good doggos.”

“What’re they called?”

“Luna and Dozier.” He smiled, relaxing into his headrest a little before you removed your hand. “They’re pits, but everyone’s always so mean about that.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah you hear those stories, from bad owners especially.”

“But they’re good dogs! They’re so sweet and like, like little old pals. You’ll see. You- well- you’ll see them tomorrow! In fact!” He shimmied up in his seat, a confident but hazy smile crawling upon him yet again.

You raised your eyebrows challengingly. “And what if, I’m not available tomorrow? Huh?”

Kurt momentarily froze, eyes sinking back down to his console, fingers playing on his turn signal. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry...” his lips quickly twitched into a dispirited frown. “Well- I guess-“

You smirkingly cut him off with a playful shove noticing the way his little dejected puppy expression still didn’t leave as he looked up at you confused. You tried to make it a bit easier for him, happily leaning your cheek against his upper arm, snaking your own through his before going to hold his seemingly always clammy hand. “Kurt I’m kidding. I’d love to go and see your dogs with you tomorrow.”

Whenever his cheeks blushed pink his eyes seemed to get more brown you thought. You adored that about him. “Really? Oh yeah w-okay, well, great!” His hand now slowly merged into your own, his fingertips grazing your palm as he shuddered whenever you did that to him. His hand was always so gentle when it held yours. Even though you had to admit how insatiably cute it was, you wish he’d grow a little more confident and secure when holding you. One time you thought during a chilling moment, he was so soft because he was scared of hurting you. But you knew the world had done it’s share of hurt to him, and that touch like this, until you, was rare. It was your job to make all those light simple touches near boring. Nearly. Giving a quick squeeze to his hand, you felt him lean more needily into your arm, even if it crushed it just a little between the seats. You gave him a hushed encouraging “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He said it so happily that everything was going according to plan, he even leaned forward to give a chaste, although somehow still wet, kiss to the left of your forehead. “Sounds cool!!”

By the time you’d driven up to Kurts house you’d already listened to the top rotation of your favourite songs at the moment, some of which Kurt promised he’d add into a new song for you, even though you’d never asked him to, and he’d been ranting on about his dog’s favourite games, and what you guys could play, before just deciding to hang out with them when they inevitably got tired.

Kurt had already told you what his house looked like, so you weren’t surprised at all to see it so secluded. And although you’d seen it in videos of his you watched, you’d never seen Kurt’s bedroom in person, so you were definitely going to ask for a bit of a tour later on. That’s if you could find a way to ask to see his bedroom that you didn’t think would make Kurt spontaneously combust upon saying. You hadn’t had any luck yet. God he was an adorable mess of a man.

Even though Kurt liked to open his doors for you when he could, he knew you could get out of his Prius just as quickly. So he walked around to the side as you got your bag from the car floor, and walked outdoors, standing by Kurts side as he smiled back down at you, trickles of hair covering his eyes, before he shook it out the way and to the side. “Well- here’s- home sweet home! Welcome.” He threw his arms up in the air, slapping them back down at his sides, before walking up to the front door.

That’s where you were expecting to meet his dogs. Inside the house dozily waiting for Kurt to come home. You neared just a few feet away from the side fence, in the middle of a sentence to do with if Kurt’s mom would be home, when all of a sudden a loud mass of barking accompanied a heavy weight bashing the fence right at you. Shadows clipped through the gaps of the wood and the whole frame shook, snarls and growls bellowed louder as the lock to the gate was clawed at, scratch marks accompanying the wood around it as the noises grew louder and more violent.

You jumped at the sudden assault of noises, scared and shocked into stillness as the wood seemed to bulge out almost cartoonishly, like something was about to break free and head straight for you.

“Hey hey hey!”

You hadn’t even realised you’d backed into Kurt, neither had he realised he’d come to wrap around you from behind, both acting instinctually, even though it was his beloved pets.

It was only when his arms wrapped over your shoulders that you felt yourself breathe again. And that’s when you realised his words were too harsh to have been trying to comfort you. He was talking to his dogs.

You looked up at him from where he was softly tucking you into his chest, even he looked shocked at their behaviour, although there was a distinct trace of sternness you didn’t think you’d ever seen on Kurt Kunkle’s face before. You sank further into Kurt’s hold as you looked back at the gate, backing up into him as much as your subconscious state would allow.

Kurt swaddled his arms around your upper torso further, protectively. “Hey stop it you two! You’re scaring them!” Kurt gently clasped onto you quickly again with a soft squeeze. “Stop that right now!”

The banging on the wood stopped, thankfully, but even as the lock stopped flipping up and down, you held all of your body as flush to Kurt as any parts could; the barking didn’t cease, and they’d begun howling now.

Kurt seemed to be instinctively and not at all falsely confident about something for the first time in his life now. At least since you’d known him. He rubbed his warm hands up and down your shoulders, rejuvenating some spark in you you realised had been simmering a little, thankful for his touch of reassurance. After a couple of seconds of that he looked down at you, frowning, disappointed, and apologetic and upset on your behalf, letting you go with another brush, but marching straight towards the fence now.

“Hey you two. You’re being very bad!!” Kurt pointed his finger at them, through the rather crooked gaps, and it made your breath catch in your throat. But these dogs who’d been growling and snarling incessantly since the moment you stepped even close to their home, only licked and whined at Kurt’s finger as he lectured them, the darker one, Luna, even going in for a friendly nibble, as if she was just saying hello after he’d come back from the store.

Kurt still wagged his finger, even though he didn’t stop either of the dogs as they paced close to the fence, or went up to sniff and lick at him, wagging their tails. Dozier sat a little further away in the background as they saw their mad owner’s gaze upon them. “You’re both being really bad dogs! Y/n is a friend! See? Gooooood. A good friend. They’re nice. And you can’t bark at them! No barking! No biting!!!”

As in control as Kurt was, your heart was still to stop hammering.

“You don’t attack y/n, okay! Don’t be naughty. Y/n is a friend. You be nice to y/n, okay?”

Kurt walked back up to you with a sigh, head hung but with no growling behind him. You swear you could hear a tail repeatedly hitting the fence panelling.

Kurt raised his head once he got near you, and that was your cue to raise your arms. He enveloped you in the hug first, which wasn’t too unusual, but the small, yet heavy, open mouthed kiss to your cheek was a bit of a rarer deal for him. Although you didn’t doubt he thought about it a lot. His movements almost seemed natural to him at this point, and you just melted into his chest, resting your cheek on his soft shirt that smelt of mango vape and a bit of sweat, but you liked that last smell. When he stayed over and your pillows smelt of it, or that time he didn’t have a shirt at yours and gave you back your tee that you fiddled with the rest of the evening, or when he hugged you, just like this. “I’m sorrry...” he drawled out.

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what at, but you did nuzzle your nose and one of your eyes into him more efficiently. You closed the other one as well, just letting him hold you as you breathed.

“Sorry... they’re not used to new people.” He explained sadly, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down your back, in such a way it raised your shirt a little at the bottom each time. It felt nice, to have him knowingly hold you like this. You were sure he was getting a little comfort out of petting you this way as well, but of course you were happy to give him that. You clasped your hands around his middle, rubbing your face against his chest for a couple of seconds before just relaxing into him. You felt enveloped for a moment as his neck craned and his long hair hung over you, head tucked against yours, but you welcomed the enveloping, how he sheilded you in the darkness. Kurt started to sway you then, and you hooked your arms around his shoulders, leaning into the back and forth movements with you and he kept up his soft rubbing. All the while breathing him in, finally having your lungs return to normal.

It only lasted a couple of seconds though, before Kurt was pulling back, pouting down at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. You could tell he was upset by how his plans had gone. “Oh K-Kurt.” You lowered your hands now, holding one to his hip but using the other to rub smaller circles than his one into his lower back. Kurt tucked his chin at you, looking down between your feet. So you raised the hand on his hip to his chest, having him look at that instead. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t plan it to go this way. It’s alright. We can do something else instead.” You tried to reassure him sensitively. “They only spooked me for a second.”

He looked back up at you now, biting on his bottom lip with his upper one. You pat his chest twice. “I’m sure they really are good pets, just-“

“Come here. I wanna show you.” Kurt’s tongue dashed down to his lower lip, wetting it in thought, as he grabbed your hand in his, and absentmindedly following, you quickly realised he was leading you straight to the dogs. “Wait Kurt. I don’t think-“

“Hey!” Kurt whistled, and you could immediately hear the dogs at the gate again, your heart beating inside your chest. Although this time they weren’t trying to open the gate, they weren’t even being loud. The only noises were the patter of excited footsteps on the pavement.

Kurt let go of your hand once you were both by the gate and squatted down, putting the back of his hand to the gaps. “H-hey, hey guys.” This time his stutter wasn’t from second guessing his sentence, but from laughter, at the tickle of his dogs licking his fingers with friendly anticipation.

“Now you need to be good dogs. Luna? Dozier? You need to be good dogs okay? Y/n’s good, they’re my- they’re my friend.” He seemed to flounder for just a moment, unsure whether he was allowed to call you his partner or not, or whether his dogs would even understand that. “You’ll get more used to them. They’re your friend now too.” At this point, Kurt looked up at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning in childish excitement. He held his hand out to you, as you twisted your lips down at him. You were thinking about it.

“C’mon. I swear they won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said, tilting his head almost like a sad dog. When you didn’t move he took your hand himself, but softly, guiding you down, calculating his movements to make you sure he wasn’t bringing you any further to the gate, only to him. “I promise I won’t let them hurt you.” He brought your hand back into his chest this time, moving it about in between his own, with it gently brushing over the fabric of his shirt. And then, with all his gaze focused on it, he leant down and kissed the back of your hand, with all the tenderness as if it was a physical wound, rather than you just being emotionally scared. His lips continued to hold their affection in them, just as his eyes did as he batted them up at you. It was when he dropped your hand, fingers still itching to trace on yours till the very last second, that you imagined this is the feeling Kurt had once explained to you late agaisnt your pillow. How your hand felt like it had pins and needles where he’d once been touching, except these were warm, and exciting to the touch, and not in the least bit uncomfortable. Only the sensation could be soothed, by being touched by the other once again.

Finally, with his words of encouragement, you started to move a bit closer. Kurt shuffled, still crouching, until he was behind you, knees swaying against your back every so often, as his hand held encouragingly on your shoulder, there and alert for you in his promise, as you slowly reached the back of your hand towards the gap in the fence.

The immediate sniffing against your skin brought in light giggles. Memories of dogs you’ve loved and childhood meetings flew into your mind as you felt the two dogs fighting over eagerly sniffing your hand through the medium sized hole, only there was no hurting or snarling, just tripping over each other and excited nudges of each others noses.

You wondered if Kurt had thought the mix of his scent on your hand would help the dogs accept you more, or maybe he just wanted to kiss your hand. Looking at him right now, even though he was looking at the dogs, full of light and smiling so genuinely, you really thought it was the second one. You laid a hand on his knee. You could always have used the excuse you needed it for balance, the way you two were framed right now, but you didn’t want to. You smiled at him, not even noticing one of the dogs had gotten their nose through until they eagerly started to lick at your palm. You giggled into Kurt’s eyes at how gross the feeling was, before moving your hand closer so they could both sniff and touch it more. You didn’t notice that Kurt’s eyes had been glued to yours since the moment your hand touched his knee. His face only got redder when you went to stretch an ankle, and your hand slipped further up, to his mid thigh.

“Right! C’mon guys! Be good dogs to y/n okay! Friendly!”

“Wait!” Panic started to set in a little as you realised Kurt may still not understand so much how different his childhood pets may react to a stranger, especially if he hasn’t had many friends over before. “Kurt hold on a-“

Before you could react, Kurt had unlocked the gate, and you were still in a squatted position. You shut your eyes with a brief squeak, before you felt something barrelling into you. You fell on your ass, still managing to keep sitting up, with your hands raised in surrender in front of your face. You didn’t know what you expected, but the tongue between your hands trying to dig into your face, the slapping of a tail against your calf and a paw on your crotch took you a second to digest. As soon as you heard the friendly whining, you peeked through your hands to see Luna, the darker grey one, with her dropped ears and her paws pattering desperately as she finally got up to your face, immediately licking where she’d been denied before, and sniffing everywhere you could. Your hands lowered down, expecting her face to follow, but a gush of wind right in your eardrum as she sniffed made you burst into laughter. You couldn’t even be mad at the fact Kurt had just opened the gate with too much trust in them, they were too cute to be mad at their owner.

Looking up, hands finally finding a gentle purchase on Luna’s paw, you saw Kurt stood directly in front of you, momentarily blocking Dozier from his attack of snuggles so you wouldn’t be bombarded, but Luna having snuck past. You couldn’t help but gaze into his open mouthed smile, as he watched you and his previous best pal become buddies.

You were slightly afraid if you opened your mouth, Luna would find her way in there, but you managed a very pleased grin at him as Luna snorted against your chin, desperately trying to lick your face.

Kurt was so happy, watching you, a person he actually really liked, who liked him back, out loud, playing with his dogs, outside his house, smiling at him like that.

He was so distracted he forgot about the pit with more patches of white on them, but it didn’t matter too much as Dozier was just as friendly when they finally got to greet you, sniffing the back of your head and accidentally head butting your shoulder in the process, trying to climb under their sister as they tried to smell you even more. You just laughed more and more at that, and Kurt fell to the ground, bringing his knees up to his chin but making sure his feet just touched yours, as he laughed more genuinely than he felt like he had in years. Well, discounting the times you’d made him laugh recently of course.

The dogs went to go play with Kurt now as well, Dozier happily accepting a few head scratches in trade for leaving Luna to slobber over more of his face, trotting back over to you with a wizzing tail to get less of an interrupted inspection.

You gently tried to lead Dozier down from your face, not exactly wanting any kisses from the mouth, well, not from the dogs, distracting them with ear scratches until their butt was basically landed in your lap to get an equal amount of scritches, laughing each time their tail whipped your leg out of excitement, and how their head bounced back and forth to get a good idea of which ear would be scratched next.

When you finally got a chance to open your eyes without a fear of slobber getting on them- and you’d done a pretty good job of protecting your face, just not your head, or anywhere else- you saw Kurt, who had clearly been trying to speak to you, in a much similar position that you must’ve just been in. With his eyes and face scrunched up so cutely, but still clearly in a big smile, as Luna licked all over his face, wherever she could get. Kurt seemed to resign to his slobbery fate just a little more than you though, it made you giggle. Which of course got Dozier to bound up and go for your chin again. You gently set them down, looking at Kurt again and finally gaining some eye contact, and with both your twisted up smiles, Kurt finally started to stand up, reaching his hand over and, after Luna so graciously accepted first, you took his hand and let him help you up, both pups circling around your feet now, sniffing excitedly at your pants and looking up at their new friend with playful anticipation.

Kurt seemed to get them, letting go of your hand but stepping closer to you in the process, cheeks coloured with pink yet again. “Yeah yeah. You dog-guys go play. We’ll play with you in a minute, okay?” He swept his hair slick with either grease or slobber, likely both, back to the side. Both dogs came up to his legs now, and both demanded attention before they ran off together in Kurt’s land. “Yeah. Good dogs.” He drawled out, grinning.

And that grin stayed on his face as he turned to you, happy and proud, of his dogs and from making you laugh so hard, beaming down on you as he finally had you, y/n, in his yard.

And fuck was Kurt the most adorable boy you’d ever dated.

You practically skipped that last step towards Kurt, before you were close enough to take his hand again. He happily took it without much of a pause this time, still letting you take the lead though on where they went, although your eyes crinkled with your smile as you watched Kurt play with your hands, his eyes just watching as he gently toyed with your fingers. It wasn’t until your legs moved till they crossed with his, and your free hand trailed gently to his chin, making him look right into your eyes, that he did so. His demeanour immediately changed, whilst he still held your hand, he clasped it more for comfort, and except for his eyes that slowly drew down to your mouth, his body began to still. His lips parted, into a small round shape, perfect and plump, hot shallow breaths starting to be audible as he realised what was happening.

His eyes remained warm and lips wet until you didn’t exactly pull away, but you broke eye contact, fake groaning with a pout that still couldn’t wipe away your smile. “Mmmmh! I don’t wanna kiss you nowww.” You drawled, emphasising the now, and moaning like a brat. But Kurt, like usual, didn’t seem to catch on.

He did draw back slightly, but out of confusion. Not enough so your hand would leave his face, but his hair wasn’t dangling above you two anymore. His eyes squinted sadly, before they seemed to get innocently wider. “But, why?”

You laughed. So much of a laugh that Kurt had to get you’d been joking earlier, especially with the way you lightly slapped his chest, but kept your hand on there soothingly afterwards; also, much to his eager and unexpected knowledge, he could tell you liked the way his chest felt under your hands by the way you touched it. His heart beat quicker at the knowledge, and he had to suck in his lips to stop himself from whining like a dog, as he realised you could probably feel it too.

The whine only became audible, once your hand slithered up his chest, past his very sensitive neck, to pat teasingly at his cheek. “Go wash your face pretty boy.”

[liminalpebble]

Hi, lovely! 💕 I’d like to request a drabble featuring Magnus. Perhaps a smutty one? I’ll leave all the details up to you.

(You cannot convince me that boy isn’t a freak! He’s likely got some tricks that would make even Blanche Devereaux herself blush.)

Hello my love! Thank you for being a friend!

By sheer luck I did a raunchy as fuck Magnus fic not too long ago based on a brilliant prompt from @muddyorbs.

Her request was to put Magnus and OFC on a mission together and he finds a little vibe in her suitcase and things get spicy. It's a very hostile fucky situation and I imagine our girl as a Lisbeth Salander type because my queer little heart is in love with her too. Anyway, I hope this pleases your inner Blanche as you reach for the cheesecake.

Much love, '

Peb

Magnus Martinsson fanfic, Magnus Martinsson x OFC, smut!, one shot, enemies to lovers (well...fuckers?), hostile but very consensual fucking, Minors DNI

Word count: about 3000 (sorry...bit of a honker. Worth it. I promise).

--

Bullets

Mara rolled her black-lined eyes when the call from Wallander came in. “Mara, are you still freelancing? We really need a tech wizard on this one.”

“Cute euphemism, Kurt...points for flattery. You need a hacker who will do the dirty work so your little lapdog techie can keep his hands clean while micromanaging me.”

Wallander sighed, and quipped sarcastically, “Why, yes, Mara, I'm doing very well, thanks. How are you today? Still your charming self, I see. By the way, you're on speaker. ” He looked across the conference table to where Martinsson (said lapdog techie) was glaring at his superior for putting him in this situation yet again.

Mara's eyes scanned around her tiny apartment full of computer equipment and old band tee shirts piled in an ever-increasing mound of black cotton. In her own mind, she'd named it Mount Doom. “Oh you know, Kurt, living that rich girl high life,” she replied in a prickly tone, toking on the remains of a joint from the night before. “And whose fault is it that I'm on speaker, hm? Really. You should know better by now.” She blew smoke out in a resigned exhale, “Alright Wallander, tell that minion of yours I'm in. I'm sure he'll be delighted.”

Kurt raised his voice. “His name is Magnus, or Detective Martinsson and I'd appreciate it if you stop calling him 'lapdog' or 'minion' especially to his face as you seem rather fond of doing...”

“Alright Kurt, see you tomorrow,” she said interrupting his lecture to end the conversation.

“Charming,” Magnus groaned.

--------

“The same room?” Mara said, with an air of annoyance, hauling her bags up the hill to the rundown Motorlodge.

Martinsson sighed and said with an edge of frustration, “Yes Mara, the same room. We can't work together from different rooms.”

“Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot, minion! I know that, but I thought that at least when we're taking shifts we'd have our own space to rest. It could be days! It would have been nice if the police department had sprung at least for adjoining rooms. I'd even tolerate sharing a bathroom with you if...”

Magnus stopped in his tracks, putting a hand up so she nearly stumbled directly into him. “Can you please, please not do this? I'm just here to do my job, just like you are. Can we try not to be at each other's throats?” As he said it she couldn't help looking at his throat, that pretty pale neck and sharp jawline she'd love to suck on and bite and make him moan while...

“Mara!” he barked, snapping her out of her lurid daydream.

“Okay...fucking hell. Okay,” she said, shouldering past him to enter the little 70's time capsule of a room. He fortified himself with a deep breath, stepping into her wake.

-----

“Well,” she said, between sips from the paper cup, “At least the Bates Motel has a pretty decent coffee machine.”

They both laughed and smiled to each other, faces bathed in the blue glow of computer screens; a rare truce. They had set up efficiently, both very good at their jobs and surprisingly good at working together despite the personality clashes.

“See?”

“See what?” Mara asked, sitting forward to scan the screen.

Magnus put a finger on her chin to turn her face towards him instead. “See how nice it can be when we actually just have a pleasant cup of coffee together and work?”, he elaborated. It was adorable, she had to admit...those big innocent blue eyes and golden curls making him look like a particularly naive, hopeful and, possibly stupid, angel. But from his work and credentials, she knew he was far from idiotic; just sweet, gullible, optimistic. And as he was staring at her with that sweet dumb incredibly handsome face, it just made her inexplicably angry, like his kindness was some kind of trick.

She shrugged, and took a sip to avoid looking at him, then stated, “Their hard drives will take hours to clone. It's a waiting game for now.” She yawned and cracked her knuckles, stretching up from the uncomfortable chair to flop onto the tacky paisley comforter. A sliver of orange glow from the setting sun slid between the heavy curtains, illuminating her body, and Magnus couldn't help but notice that like that, in this wash of golden hour light, she really was very pretty. Yet, for some inexplicable reason Mara seemed almost determined not to be, with her prickly personality and tent-like clothes hiding her rather nice curves. What a shame he thought.

Magnus took the opportunity to move too, rising to his feet and stretching his long arms over his head. Mara peeked at him with one surreptitiously open eye to drink in the sharp dips and muscle of his lower belly and hips as his shirt raised, ever so slightly, to show skin. Why does he have to have the body of a fucking Greek god? Jesus Christ. Eyes wondering south, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rather generous outline in his pants, she saw where his service revolver was strapped to him in a shocking interruption of black metal and leather. It didn't suit such a soft, posh, pretty boy to be toting around a gun like some cowboy. Having come from a wealthy suburb, Martinsson could never understand the grip of fear firearms held on poor neighborhoods like hers. She didn't like guns, and she didn't like the criminals or the cops who didn't seem to mind using them liberally in her childhood neighborhood while everyone else was caught in the crossfire.

“Do you have to wear that thing?” Mara asked, gesturing to the holster. “It's only me. I'm like a foot shorter than you and you could probably kill me with your bare hands if you wanted. Are there bullets in it now?”

Magnus turned to her, eyes soft and considerate. “Well, yes. It's part of the job. We have to wear them at all times on the clock and they have to be loaded. And it's not you I'm afraid of, Mara,” he said, sitting beside her on the bed, looking at his hands. “It's you I need to be ready to protect if things go south.”

Mara turned to perch on her elbow and look up at him, genuinely swooning for a second before she recovered hastily, coating it with sarcasm. “Awww...my hero. This is why they call you The Prince Charming of Ystad? And I know damn well you're afraid of me.”

“Not afraid...annoyed. Are you allergic to having a single genuine moment of humanity between us? What have I ever done to you?” he huffed sounding wounded, and standing up again to pace.

She groaned, standing up to face him, admitting to herself that she had been especially hard on him, and she couldn't even be entirely sure why (or at least, she wouldn't admit why, not even to herself). “Look, Magnus, I'm sorry, really.”

“Really?” he said cautiously, distrustful and surprised.

“Yeah..yeah, really. I've been such a bitch to you.”

As Magnus spotted the unprecedented chink in her armor, it set off the explosion of a tirade. It finally released itself from his mouth after brewing for months and he was powerless to stop it. “Listen. I don't know why you're like this, Mara, really I don't. I haven't done a bloody thing to deserve this, neither has Kurt.”

Mara felt a little fizzle of fear at the mounting growl in his voice, and she felt a little ashamed, but also aroused. It was deeply confusing.

“I wasn't socialized enough as a puppy. Why the fuck do you think, pretty boy? You're cops. I don't like cops. I don't like what you stand for...your mindless conformity...”

Magnus' voice rose, “Did it occur to you that some of them, Kurt and I for example, chose this life to protect people? Because we care about people, even people like you who hate us. And I'm not saying you don't have a good reason to hate the police, but you don't have to hate us. We're on your bloody side. And...and you think you're so clever and rebellious with your bitch act and your black hair dye....and and...your edgy jewelry,” he continued, reaching down to her open bag where there was an unusual silver necklace, with a heavy bullet for a pendant. He lifted it saying, “Oh so you don't like guns and bullets, but you'll wear them to look oh so cool and fashionable? What a fucking hypocrite...”

Mara was thunderstruck (and frankly excited) by his anger but the end of his little speech made her want to laugh hysterically. He had no idea that what he was holding was a state-of-the-art vibrator, beautifully designed to multitask as a piece of jewelry styled after an actual bullet. She thwarted her chuckle to say simply, “Please put that back. It was expensive.”

Magnus blinked in confusion, as if slapped by her unexpected response. As he moved to put it back, one of his long fingers fumbled around it, accidentally pressing a hidden button. As he dropped it back on top of her bag of toiletries, it began to buzz. The detective narrowed his eyes, mouth agape as the gears turned in his lovely head. “Is...is your necklace...vibrating. Holy shit...is that a...”. His broad Cheshire cat smile unfurled across his face, as he began to chuckled in long breathy laughs.

Now it was her turn to be angry...not to mention mortified. She darted her hand out to switch it off, crossed her arms, and stormed to the other side of the room. “Oh this is rich,” he purred out in his deep delicious voice. “Why did you bring that? And when on earth did you expect to have the time and privacy to use it?”

She yelled, “That's none of your business! And I thought we'd have separate rooms.”

He moved closer, now standing directly in front of her. She felt that looking into his bright eyes might sear her like a laser, so she settled for looking forward at his chest. Then his long soft fingers, tucked themselves under her chin, raising her eyes to his, as he asked in a deep intimidating voice, “Mara, why did you really bring that with you?”

Fuck. She could see why he was so good at interrogations. This is the kind of man it was no use lying to. She sputtered, “Be...because I know it might be a few days and...”

“And?” he prompted, taking a step closer.

She fumbled nervously, “And...and...because I knew I'd be trapped with you strutting around with your perfect fucking body and your pretty fucking face and your sweet fucking disposition, and I'd have to take care of myself if I wanted to think straight...okay?”

His smile dropped even as the heat of excitement coursed through his body. Magnus could see she was flustered, defenses down, nearly to the point of tears. Finally it occurred to him; so this is why she was so mean, so prickly and defensive towards him... because she liked him so much. She was harboring a hopeless school girl crush and assumed all of his kindness towards her...his goodness...was some kind of joke to mock her. She ignored the reality that he paid attention to her because he liked her too. She excited and intrigued him, but that all turned to bitter frustration that she would never let him near her. He just kept encountering all that barbed wire around her and finally quit trying to breach it...until now.

“Mara,” he said her name reverently like a prayer, in a low gentle whisper, full of empathy and kindness. He moved his hand from where it still was propped under her chin, to cradle her face. Neither of them could say who moved first as they crashed together, but before they knew it they were latched onto each other's hot mouths, kissing, licking, biting, barely able to breathe and neither of them minded.

He moved to her neck, sucking it hungrily then growled into her ear, “You think that little gadget could hold a fucking candle to me?”. She moaned in response, sliding her shaking fingers to begin unbuttoning his shirt while he worked at his pants and his holster. He was peeled out in moments, looking absolutely mouthwatering in nothing but his underwear. Mara tore her shirt and bra off over her head, then pressed the swell of her breasts against his firm torso, while her lips rejoined his. Her leg swung around his waist as she licked up his throat, bit his earlobe playfully and said, “Pull my hair. Call me a bitch again...”

He was panting as he said, “I...didn't call you a bitch...I said it was a 'bitch act'...”.

She gathered his curls between her fingers and tugged while she bit at his lovely throat, drawing a nearly-pornographic moan from the young cop. “I said, call me a bitch, you pedant.”

It was adorable, how he struggled to get the word out. He was the type of well-bred man who had trouble calling a woman anything other than “Miss”, which made it even hotter when his eyes darkened and his mouth twisted as he growled out, “You delicious bitch” and wrapped his big hand around her ponytail, yanking sharply. She was grinding against he thick erection, teasing him, desperate for him, until he stopped her with a bruising grip on her hips and met her eyes. “You called me a lapdog, huh? Well, there's only one lap I'm interested in being in,” he said in a velvety purr as he tugged her pants and panties off of her, pushing her onto the bed completely naked, as he snaked between her legs, biting and sucking ravenously at the soft flesh of her inner thighs, breath ghosting against her soaked pussy. She wove her fingers into his hair with surprising gentleness as she sighed and writhed while he kissed his way up.

When he licked the first firm line up her slit she arched her back and gasped out, “Holy fuck,” while he chuckled against her skin and she could feel his smile.

“Mmmm...you're even more delicious than I imagined,” he confessed, and the idea of him jacking off, thinking about this only aroused her more.

He began to suck delicately on her clit and swirl his tongue, bringing her close to the brink in mere moments. She lifted his head gently and said, “Wait...wait.”

His big, bright eyes met hers, solicitous and concerned as he panted out, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...yeah amazing,” she said, smiling, “I just want to come on your cock. I want to feel you inside.”

“Oh darling...” he purred as he crawled farther up the bed to kiss her, sharing her own taste with her. He stood up for a moment to slide his boxers off, revealing his cock (which was just as gorgeous as the rest of him), stroking it lightly in one big hand. “Jesus Christ,” she gasped when she saw it, big and flushed with a tantalizing drip of precum. She crawled over to him and taking it into her mouth hastily, dying to savor it. He groaned in ecstatic surprise at the feeling of her hot mouth around him, her clever tongue caressing the hard length. He combed his hand through her hair, chuckling softly, teasing, “eager, are we darling?”

“Shut up and fuck me you cocky little shit,” she barked out playfully, making them both smile. “Prove to me that that little trinket will never satisfy me again, detective.”

He pinned her on her back, caging her between his strong arms, “Cocky, yes....little...well, my dear, I think we both know that's just a bit inaccurate.” His tone changed as he settled between her legs, and his hand stroked her cheek gently. He asked, “You're okay? This is okay?”

“Yes...please...just go in slowly?”

He nodded.

Magnus eased in gently, as they both gasped at the decadent feeling of his cock inside her slick, warm walls, adjusting to each other. “Mmmm. God...yes,” she purred, stroking his sharp cheekbone with her soft little hand. Meeting his eyes she said, “Magnus?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Now, please, fuck me like a whore.”

It rough and relentless as Magnus drove into her again and again while her legs clamped tight around him, calves bouncing on the muscular curve of his ass as he moved. The wave of both of their orgasms crashed quickly and simultaneously as they rode it out, making a mess of the old duvet, and collapsing naked against each other, spent and smiling. Mara massaged Mangus' head as he rested it against her breasts. He trailed little pecks along the soft skin, sighing contentedly. She peeked over his lovely golden fleece to see where the blue-glowing monitors were still reporting their downloads in progress with lots of time to go. Idly she said, “Looks like this is going to take longer than we thought.”

“Oh no, whatever shall we do in the meantime,” Magnus chimed in from where he had begun lapping his tongue over her tits, as they both laughed in an all encompassing high of relief.

@smolvenger @goblingirlsarah I can't think who else might like this one, but feel free to share!

[sydsaint]

My EXTREMELY underrated Fav 😘😘😘

Summary: After multiple attacks by Bray Wyatt, LA Knight seeks out the reader for some extra protection on Smackdown and unknowingly ropes her into Bray's web.

"Yes, and I trust that you'll be the one handling Angle when he arrives for his birthday celebration?" You chat with your fellow Smackdown GM backstage before the show starts. 

"Of course." Pearce nods reluctantly. "As well as the contract signing between Ricochet and Gunther, right?" He asks you. "And what are you going to be doing tonight?"

You shrug and watch LA Knight come out of the locker room on the other side of the room with a jittery look on his face, which is unusual for a man like LA Knight. "I've got plenty of behind-the-scenes stuff to do, Pearce." You assure him, cocking your head to the side as you watch Knight skulk around the backstage area. "Plus we both know that you like being on camera more than I do." 

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Adam mumbles sourly. "I always get stuck with the difficult jobs around here." He complains and walks off to greet Kurt Angle for his later arrival. 

Pearce walks off and you continue to watch LA Knight cautiously make his way through the backstage area. So, curious as to what he's up to, you walk over to him. 

"Well, someone looks on edge tonight. What's got you all jittery, Knight?" You walk over and tap him gently on the shoulder. 

Knight jumps at your touch and whirls around with a wild look in his eyes. He quickly recovers though, after he looks down and finds you standing next to him. "Y/N! What's going on doll? Didn't see you there." He chuckles to play off his nervousness. 

"Just working, like usual, Knight." You shrug. "What about you? On the lookout for Bray Wyatt, I assume?" You ask him with a playful grin. "Man, he's really gotten to you, hasn't he? I'm impressed." 

"What?" Knight scoffs. "Little ol' Bray Wyatt doesn't scare me, dollface." He insists with an overplayed confident smile on his face. "I mean, this is LA Knight you're talking about, sweetheart. I ain't no chump." He insists with a smug grin. 

"Right..." You giggle and glance over Knight's shoulder at the emptiness behind him, just to mess with him a tad. "Yeah, well I'll catch you later then, mister megastar." You continue to glance behind Knight as you dismiss yourself. "Good luck with, Wyatt. You're gonna need it." 

You walk off with the intention of heading down to the production truck to check up on things for the show. As you walk off you glance back and see that confident smile drop from Knight's face. He quickly swivels around to find out what you seemed to be looking at behind him, but of course, finds nothing. 

You get about halfway down the hall before you hear heavy footsteps following after you. "Y/N, gorgeous! Wait up, now!" Knight chases after you. 

"Hmm?" You stop and turn around, acting like you didn't just hear Knight come running after you. "Yeah? Did you forget something, Knight?" You ask him casually. 

Knight comes striding up to your side, that confident facade back on his face. "Why don't I keep you company while you're running your errands?" He offers. "You know? Pretty little thing like you should have a strong man looking out for her." He grins down at you. 

"Awe, that's sweet." You giggle. "Sure, why not? I could use the company. And I know that you could as well, tough guy." You bat at Knight's arm playfully. "You know, if you wanted some company to ward off Bray Wyatt, all you had to do was ask." You tease him. 

Knight scoffs at your statement, trying his best to keep up his tough-guy act. You just giggle again and let him follow at your side all the way down to the production truck. You check in with the crew for a few minutes then head back around to the backstage area. 

"So," Knight pops back up at your side with a flirty smile and some pep back in his step. "How come you ain't a part of the Kurt Angle welcoming committee?" He asks you. 

You scrunch your nose at the thought of having to coddle Angle for an entire night. "Please, don't get me started."  You huff. "Let Pearce play kiss-ass to that egotistical, overrated, sorry excuse for a hall of Famer." You roll your eyes. 

"Damn." Knight chuckles. "So theirs no love lost between you and Angle, huh, doll?" He asks you, obviously interested in the story behind the disdain. 

"Got that right." You grumble. "I got stuck working as the assistant for that blowhard when he was the GM for RAW a few years ago." You explain. "Worst 6 months of my life." 

Knight chuckles and chats with you about why it was so bad working under Angle. And for a moment, he forgets that he's sticking with you to avoid another attack by Bray Wyatt. Knight sticks around and chats with you for a few more errands around the backstage area. When it comes time to let Kurt Angle have his moment in the spotlight you hang back and watch from the backstage viewing area. 

"Lord, this is so dumb." You roll your eyes at the impressive set up that Pearce has going for Angle. 

"Is that a bit of Jealously I hear in your tone?" Knight teases from your side. 

"Hush." You scoff and turn towards him. You go to say something else but spot someone coming out of the dark locker room behind Knight. "Oh, that's not good. Knight, you should get out of here." You warn him, eye's glued to the dark figure looming behind him. 

Knight furrows his brows for a moment, but switches to a smile, assuming that you're just joking. "Okay, real funny, Y/N." He chuckles. But you don't reply. "Y/N?" He asks again. 

You silently put a hand on Knight's shoulder and turn him around to the door. Knight spots what you've been staring at and he quickly whirls back around to you. Before you can utter an 'I told you so' Knight grabs ahold of your arm and drags you off. "Knight hold on! Let me go!" You try and pull your arm free. 

"Not a chance, dollface," Knight replies, still hauling you as far away from Bray as he can. "You're a marked woman now, sweetheart. Now you really do need me." He chuckles, trying to find some humor in the situation. 

"I think that I can take care of myself." You reply as Knight finally slows down and lets you go. "It's just, Bray. He doesn't seem all that bad." 

Knight turns to you and shakes his head. "Come on." He eggs you on. "If I leave you alone now and Bray does something do ya, It'll break my heart." He informs you. 

"Awe." You blush a little bit. "Okay okay, you can stick around for a bit longer. For both of our sakes." You let out a small sigh. "But don't get any idea's pretty boy." You warn him. 

"Ideas?" Knight chuckles. "Me? Never." He slings an arm over your shoulder casually. "Now, about after the show. I think that it's only fair that you let me make sure that you get back to your hotel room alright." 

[blaqcats-fics]

(He's) Just a Phase – Part 3

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.2K

December 1993

Relocating to Los Angeles has been an adjustment for Steve. Seattle was cozier, and he had the potential to settle down there, given the chance. On top of that, Steve made many good friends and acquaintances in a short time while living in the Emerald City.

Steve felt a sense of unease in Los Angeles as if he didn't belong there like many others. He had grown up with a wealthy family, despite the fact he had been cut off, but now it seemed that comparatively, his parents wouldn't have been considered special in any sense in the city. His mind briefly wandered to the Byers family and how they made it in California. It baffled him that Joyce had seemingly found success here despite being a single mother. California was proving to be much more expensive than Steve had ever imagined, yet Dr. Owens seemed to have some kind of influence on their luck. Despite the privilege Steve was born into, he couldn't deny his growing anxiety, especially since California was a different beast compared to Hawkins or Seattle.

Steve barely had time to enjoy Los Angeles as it was. He was busy day in and day out, and most days, he was close to just giving up and living with a void inside of him. However, the moments of weakness were always short-lived because Steve's mind never strayed to far away from the thought of Eddie, especially when the other man was almost close enough to touch.

It was common knowledge that Eddie lived in Los Angeles, and with that knowledge, Steve made it a mission to avoid going out to different bars and restaurants. Instead, he stuck close to the studio he was working for and spent his free time learning meaningless skills. He had been in the middle of learning how to crochet, and it was enough of a hobby to keep him distracted. It also helped that Kacey kept him busy enough as it was when doing his new job.

'You can't be a one-man deal,' Kacey said, sitting at her desk. She was perched on the large mahogany surface, nibbling on the end of her pin. 'You can, but you need a band to back you up. Unless you have invisible hands that can magically play different instruments.'

Steve was sitting on the floor, different pages scattered around him. The pages were a mix of other things, upcoming dates that Steve needed to memorize, resumes of people eligible to become his manager, and deadlines to meet for his debut. It was enough stuff to make Steve feel dizzy.

'I don't think I'm not functional,' Steve joked. 'But putting together a band won't hurt. I can't just play every song with a guitar that's on its last limb.'

Kacey hummed. 'Your sound,' she began, 'Did you ever figure out what you wanted it to be?'

Steve nodded. It was different from what he was used to or comfortable with. He didn't listen to rock music, and he didn't listen to metal music, but he needed something loud because if it wasn't loud, then there was no way it was going to reach Eddie.

'Something loud,' he said. He cringed slightly. 'Sorry, that's vague.'

'Uh-huh,' Kacey said, eyeing him. 'Rock? Metal? I don't think either of them really suits your vibe.'

'What's my vibe?' Steve asked, pulling his scrunchie from his wrist and pulling his hair into a ponytail. He pulled his knee to his chest, resting his cheek on his knee, and loudly yawned.

Kacey hummed, examining him.

Steve felt scrutinized under her gaze and felt his skin start to crawl. Bowie lifted his head up from where he was lying and let out a low whine.

'Can you not stare at me, please?' Steve asked. He looked at Bowie, patting the empty space next to him. He watched with a small smile as the rottweiler came over, laying next to him and putting his head on Steve's leg. Bowie's tongue rolled out his mouth as he looked up at Steve with a droopy look. 'Hi, sugar-plum,' he cooed, moving his hand to scratch Bowie's head.

'Sorry,' Kacey said but didn't sound apologetic. 'Grunge or alternative rock, maybe. Something similar to Kurt Cobain.'

Steve hummed as he absent-mindedly petted Bowie. 'Can we experiment with that before we settle on it?'

'Of course, we can,' Kacey said. 'We can go to a studio and get a producer to sit with us and figure out what suits your voice and message best.'

'It has to be loud,' Steve said.

'Remember that the most important things don't always scream the loudest,' Kacey said. 'You're message won't get across if the public doesn't like you, and for them to like you, you need to find a sound that fits your voice.'

Steve stared at her for a long moment before sighing. ‘When’s the soonest you think we can get in the studio?’

Kacey glanced up at the clock that sat above her door. ‘It’s only 1,’ she mumbled to herself. ‘Let me call Cameron and see if he has a space open today. He mentioned something back, having just one or two clients today.’

Steve nodded, moving his hand away from scratching Bowie. He picked up a few pages with song lyrics messily written. He tapped his foot anxiously, ‘How’s this going to work when I don’t have any of the instrumental parts written?’

Kacey glanced at him, ‘Don’t worry about it for now. You mentioned you can’t read music, right?’

He nodded, ‘Kinda just figured it out. I know a few notes and things, but just enough to get my way around a guitar.’

'That's fine. Plenty of artists don't know how to read sheet music. Prince, Jimi Hendrix, Paul McCartney, Eddie Van Halen, Bob Dylan,' she rambled off a list of names. 'They've made it big without reading sheet music.'

'Alright,' Steve said hesitantly. He knew who they were, but he also knew they were already prominent in the music scene. Moreover, they probably had backgrounds in music, whereas Steve had none.

'Have some confidence in yourself,' Kacey said. She reached over to her phone, punching in numbers that Steve couldn't identify from where he was sitting. He assumed she was calling Cameron to see if a spot was available for him to come in.

Steve pulled his gaze away, looking back at the sheets of paper in his hands. He mouthed the words, taking a moment to process the lyrics. He frowned for a moment, going back and re-reading to make sure his mind didn't change any words on him. He continued making sure everything made sense while he listened to Kasey strike up a conversation on the other side of the room.

He closed his eyes, thinking of the lyrics as he tapped his hand against his thigh, trying to find a rhythm matching the song. He scrunched his face up, changing the pace. It would be easier to hear the music with different instruments, but Steve didn't have access to that yet, and the song didn't seem right with an acoustic guitar. He let out a sigh, mumbling the lyrics under his breath.

‘Sorry to break your concentration, ‘Evie,’ Kacey spoke up, hanging up the phone and pulling Steve’s attention toward her. ‘Cameron has an open studio since one of his clients flaked. Said that we should head there if we wanna keep the room.’

‘Sick,’ he said. He started gathering up the pages scattered around himself and stuffed them into his binder. ‘Will the studio have a piano?’ he asked.

‘Of course, it will,’ Kacey said, pushing herself off her desk, gathering her belongings. ‘Why?’

‘I think I want my debut to have a piano base,’ Steve said, unsure of the technical term. ‘But not in a somber way? Kind of upbeat?’

Kacey grinned, 'You might want to play around with the keyboard then. It's the same understanding as a piano, there are different sound settings you can mess around with.’

‘Well,’ Steve pushed himself off the ground, Bowie standing with him. ‘I might have a debut record under my belt.’

The studio was spacious for one person. It was a bit terrifying, despite Kacey being on the other side of the glass. He wondered if the room would feel claustrophobic with other band members. He wondered how chaotic it would be, given the idea that Steve would even get along with his future band members. On the other hand, Steve knew that Eddie probably found this part of the process exciting, just after performing concerts in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of people.

'Alright,' Cameron's voice echoed in the studio. 'Go ahead and get a feel for the instruments and the equipment, and whenever you're ready, we'll start. Sound good?'

Steve sent him an awkward thumbs-up, clenching his throat and forcing his gaze onto the keyboard. It was well-kept, he noticed. Someone who knew what they were doing had obviously taken care of it. The paint glimmered under the lights, like wet stone or a diamond chiseled into intricate designs. He didn’t live under a rock, but it seemed more complicated despite being smaller than a normal piano. The buttons and settings were probably more intimidating than they really were. It also didn’t help that Steve really knew nothing about pianos. He liked how they sounded, but the last time he played one was in elementary school when his mother forced him into lessons.

He plucked a few keys, listening to the tone. It sounded slightly off compared to a piano, but Steve ruled it out because the keyboard was electric. He glanced at the settings and changed the sound, cautiously plucking another few keys, grimacing at the sound. He shook his head and continued trying different modes until he found one that sounded right. It was almost like the grand piano but sounded a little bit different.

���Okay,’ Steve said, looking towards the window.

‘Ready?’ Cameron asked.

‘Yeah,’ Steve nodded. ‘I’m still going to have to get used to the keyboard, but I’m good enough to throw around something.’

‘Sounds good, kid,’ Cameron said.

Steve bit the urge to correct him, but he adjusted his headphone on his head, situating himself in front of the microphone, and ran his fingers over the keyboard. He glanced at where Kacey was sitting beside Cameron, and she gave him a wide grin.

Swallowing, Steve glanced to where Bowie was lying, trying to find comfort in his presence before pressing down on the keys and playing a few notes before shaking his head. ‘Can we start again?’

‘You’re the boss,’ Cameron said. Steve watched him move around. ‘You’re good to go.’

Steve repeated as he did before, stumbling along a few keys. The same pattern repeated itself — play, fumble, repeat.

It wasn’t until nearly two hours that Steve started getting the hang of how he wanted the song to be played.

‘Again?’ Cameron asked.

Steve nodded. He didn't bother to look over. He waited for the green light before diving into playing the keyboard. He didn't focus on his vocals, just on creating the song's beat. He nibbled his lip, coming to a stop after a few minutes. 

‘That’s it,’ Steve said. ‘I need to add in some strings and the vocals. Then we can put it together? See what we get?’

Cameron nodded. ‘Sounded good,’ he said. ‘Give me just a second, and then we can start on whatever strings you want to use.’

Steve nodded. He looked around the space and walked towards an electric guitar. He hadn’t ever played one before, but it was nearly the same as an acoustic — under his assumption. Eddie had always made playing the electric guitar easy, but Steve wasn’t stupid. Eddie had played guitar for a long time, probably before he moved in with Wayne. Steve had only been playing guitar for two years. He still fumbled around, nowhere near perfect. 

He plugged in the guitar, moving his hand to the head of the guitar, adjusting the tuners. He plucked a string, testing the tune before adjusting them again. He walked back to the microphone, humming to himself as he played some chords, figuring out a similar pattern to the piano. 

‘You ready?’ Cameron asked.

Steve glanced at him and nodded, 'As I'll ever be.'

Cameron nodded, ‘Go for it.’

Steve swallowed nervously, starting at the CD that rested in Kacey's hands. Two weeks ago, Steve was just messing around in a studio, and now suddenly, he had an EP with three songs that could be his debut. He didn't expect the CD to come in so fast, though. 

‘This CD is your future,’ Kacey said. ‘There’s only one thing wrong with it.’

‘What’s wrong with it?’ Steve asked instantly, heart jumping. Bowie nudged his ankle, and Steve tried to calm down. ‘I’m fine, Bows.’

Kacey chuckled, 'Nothing bad, I promise. You just can't leave these songs untitled.'

Steve let out a sigh of relief. ‘Don’t scare me like that,’ he huffed. 

‘I’m your manager,’ Kacey shot back. 

‘That doesn’t mean you get to scare me!’ Steve exclaimed. 

Kacey wiggled her fingers at him, ‘I can do what I damn well, please. Now, you have three tracks that need naming. These are like your children. Name them carefully.’

Steve rolled his eyes. ‘The first track,’ he stated. ‘Hind-sight. I figured that one out already. That one’s probably my favorite one.’

‘It is a good one,’ Kacey agreed. 

Steve watched as she wrote on the back of the CD packet, pulling #1 Hindsight on it. ‘I thought that one could be the song I used to debut?’

Kacey leaned back in her chair. ‘If I could, I’d let you do it, but once we name these, I have to give it to Jared. He will sample your tracks to people, and whichever song warrants a more positive reaction gets debuted.’

Steve groaned. ‘Damn.’

‘Sorry, ‘Evie,’ Kacey said. ‘Thems the dice.’

‘That’s fine, I guess,’ he sighed. ‘The third track,’ he continued. ‘Momentary.’

‘The second one?’ 

Steve closed his eyes, thinking. ‘End of Beginning.’ 

‘Well,’ Kacey started, writing the rest of the titles on the back of the packet, ‘The EP is officially finished.’

‘Yeah?’ Steve grinned.

‘Yeah.’

‘What happens once the debut song is decided?’ Steve asked, glancing at his lap as Bowie rested his head on his leg. He moved his hand to scratch his head.

‘We release it,’ Kacey shrugged. ‘And depending on how well it’s perceived, we drop the rest of the EP over the next few months. During that, your schedule will start filling up more, and you'll start making enough money not to live out a hotel room.’

Steve felt his heart sink at the thought of the hotel room. He was desperately trying to find a job, but it seemed like every opportunity was ten times harder to come by in Los Angeles than he expected. With Kacey constantly demanding his time at her office and in the studio, Steve could not find a job that could sustain him for long. The only thing keeping him afloat financially was the money from the music record. Unfortunately, they refused him a proper apartment, so all he could hope for was a small hotel room with a bed, hot water, free coffee, and complimentary breakfast. Even though this should’ve been seen as a dream come true, he still felt despondent about settling for less than he deserved.

Kacey was the only friend that Steve had made in Los Angeles, and he soon realized how lonely he was without his other Seattle friends. Even though he had come to Los Angeles with a singular goal, sometimes the longing for home and the people he had left behind overwhelmed him. He found himself wishing for conversations with Robin and his kids more and more often, missing the days when he talked to Sam, Gale, and all of the other people he had known in Seattle.

As the days passed, Steve's doubts lingered. He had sacrificed so much for something that might not be worth it. He cherished Eddie with all his heart — and he would never stop loving him — but a part of him questioned if leaving was his only option. He could have continued to live in this empty state, never daring to feel anything more than apathy. But Steve knew life wasn't worth living without closeness, passion, or purpose.

Doctor Newman had said that Steve only had to forgive himself to heal, but Steve wasn’t sure. He knew he had to tell Eddie his truth in an apology, even if it meant being ignored. The thought of a forgotten apology torturing him fueled an unbridled amount of anxiety. The idea of not being forgiven for something he could not control tore him apart inside. His parents had been the type to never apologize, or if they ever did, it would be empty and shallow. But Steve knew better than most that a simple apology was powerful — it didn’t matter whether it was accepted. It was unheard of, but the hopelessness of letting Eddie know how sorry he was weighed heavily on his mind. He hoped Eddie would hear his plea loud and clear and accept that many truths can lie within an apology.

'Depending on the popularity of your EP, we'll schedule a meeting with a screenwriter to develop a music video. If the script is accepted, we'll start with you meeting a choreographer and setting up a meeting with a director to shoot the video. Then we'll sell the video to be played on MTV,' Kasey continued to speak. 'Music videos push you to the top, and there's no way that your ex won't see it.'

Steve licked his lips, 'What if I don't want to do a music video? I don't really want to show my face yet. Not until I write the song.'

Kacey gave him a long look, 'We need to do music videos, but perhaps we can alter your image a bit. Make you a mystery to your inspiring fans.'

'How?' Steve asked.

'A costume,' Kacey said. She paused, shaking her head, 'A new persona. You'd still be you — you'd just be Evie. We can create a story around your new persona and then use different means to disguise you.'

'Kinda like KISS?' Steve asked.

'Sure, but it would be different. People know who KISS is behind the face paint. People wouldn't know who you are,' Kacey said.

Steve thought about it for a moment before shaking his hand. 'No,' he said. 'I want people to know who I am. If no one knows who I am, everything has been for nothing. I wanted to do this so I didn't have to hide who I was or what I identified as. It'd be against what I'm trying to do.'

'Then why no to music videos?'

'I don't know. I just don't want him to see my face before I can see him in person,' Steve shrugged. 'If a music video is unavoidable, I'll do it, but I have reservations against it.'

'Let me talk to a few people, get an idea of something, and I'll toss it to you once I know something,' Kacey said. 'Because if he doesn't see you on MTV, he'll see you on the front of a magazine or see an interview and connect the pieces.'

Steve nodded, feeling a sense of dread at the thought of Eddie seeing him before he was ready. He knew it was inevitable, but he wanted to control the narrative as much as possible. He wanted to be the one to initiate contact, explain himself, and apologize. The idea of Eddie seeing him on TV or in a magazine, without any context or explanation, made his stomach twist.

'Alright,' he said, rubbing his hands over his face. 'I trust you to figure something out.'

NOTE: Eddie's showing up soon, I promise lmao. I like world-building a bit too much. I have a good bit of part 4 written, which is another flashback. part 5 has an outline of sorts at the moment, it's a skeleton to fill in, and well, Eddie is finally a part of that skeleton. So, hopefully, by Wednesday morning, I'll have both parts 4 and 5 posted. And Steve during the second and third Steve did get a band, but I doubt I'll focus much on them.

Taglist is still open, so if you wanna be added to it, let me know via comment or dm.

This is also uploaded to Ao3 HERE. There's a few-hour post difference. Tumblr sees it first, and yadda yadda.

TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x @phirex22 x @kylobith x @screaming-alone x @poopypantsbennett x @ledleaf x @rhyswritesreadsandcries x @trashpocket x @oxidantdreamboat x @moonshadows-13

[digimonirl]

So after evolving into BlackGatomon, my partner has been much more reclusive, like hiding under the bed and such and hasn't been as affectionate or open with me. She keeps insisting she's fine, but is very kurt about it. Is there anything I can do for her?

That really sucks anon, I'm sorry your buddy is having a rough time.

I've discussed the cultural bias against virus digimon before; so my first suggestion is to ask your partner if she feels less deserving of affection after becoming a BlackGatomon. Failing that, it may not be the type of digimon she evolved into but the species all together. Many digimon want to become certain species when they move to a new stage, and evolving otherwise can be devastating. Something similar happened to Felt once when she became a Rosemon instead of her desired stage VI. Either way the best course of action will be to assure your partner that she is loved and valued no matter what form she's in. Good luck to you both!

[darlingmbappe]

Rules: 🎶 when you get this, list 5 songs you’ve been listening to & tag 5-10 people.

Tagged by @kymb-10 & @photmath <3

"Homeless Brother" by Don McLean: Mister McLean’s lyrics always hit so hard. This song explains the hardships of those who don’t have a home. It gives a deep and different perspective to the people we’re used to passing on the streets without a second glance. Absolutely beautiful words, sung like poetry. — Stand out lyrics: “There’s freedom when you’re walking, even though you’re walking slow.” “But somewhere’s just like nowhere when you leave there for a while.” “Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men. Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again.”

"In Bloom" by Nirvana: Kurt Cobain’s lyrics can really be interpreted into a million and a half different forms, but this one’s kind of summed up to poke fun at people who “discovered” their music when they started to become more popular and hop on the bandwagon, but don’t have enough self awareness to realize it’s them. The beat is so catchy. Good luck getting it out of you’re head once it’s in there. — Stand out lyrics: “He knows not what it means when I say, he’s the one who likes all our pretty songs, and he likes to sing along, and he likes to shoot his gun, but he don’t know what it means.”

"READ YOUR DIARY" by Måneskin: Just a pure pleasure song about a man obsessed with a woman while he waits until he gets to touch her again. — Stand out lyrics: “Cried on your nudes wearing your perfume, now I taste like you.” “Alone in the shower, using my left hand so it feels like you.”

"Hanger 18" by Megadeath: Y’all this is an absolute head banger of a song. I’m obsessed with a good guitar solo in metal/rock music, and the entire second half of the song is just crazy guitar solos paired with drums. The lyrics are eh but listen for the instruments. — Stand out lyrics: “Military intelligence; two words combined that can’t make sense.”

"Funeral" by Phoebe Bridgers: Always my go-to when I need a good cry (or I Know the End). The lyrics feel personal, very raw. The soft backtrack guitar fits so perfectly with her harmonies. Love that woman so much. Even though all the lyrics are amazing, here are my favs anyway. — Stand out lyrics: “Jesus Christ, I’m so blue all the time. And that’s just how I feel. Always have and I always will.” “I woke up in my childhood bed wishing I was someone else, feeling sorry for myself, when I remembered someone’s kid is dead.” “And it’s four a.m… again. And I’m doing nothing… again.”

[mercurygray]

Sliding the bar tender some 💵 and asking her thoughts on how Kurt sees the news/feels about Joan whilst he's playing flyboys elsewhere in the war? Juno xxx

Truth be told, he didn't think about her much.

What was there to think about? It was all already settled - they'd had that dinner, before he'd shipped out for OCS, and he'd talked it all through for her. She'd talked a little bit about volunteering herself, and he agreed that of course it would be a good fit for her, with her family's history of service. They'd find a place for her in administration, or air traffic control, even!

A nice little adventure, before we get married, he'd called it. A girl ought to have some fun before she settled down into being Mrs. Havermeyer. And they would both look so smart, in their uniforms, for the write-ups afterwards and his eventual campaign for the House. A real all-American family - once they'd added a few kids to the mix, of course. The voters would like that.

And Joan would look so good as a mother.

She'd asked, during that last dinner, if he didn't think it would be better if they put what they had on pause for the duration, just a little break, while they... decided. Playing hard to get again, of course. But what was there to decide? He'd made his decision a long time ago.

They'd met at a formal dinner, a fundraiser for a cause he couldn't remember, and he'd known the minute he saw her that he had to have her. "Why, that's Joan!" the hostess had exclaimed, when he'd asked for an introduction. The prize of the social season and the prettiest girl in any room. A little hard to get, but he liked a challenge - he brought her flowers and took her to the opera and for picnics in the country, and met her for lunch sometimes in a little cafe down the street from the Map Division office where she worked.

No, it was all already settled, and he didn't think about it much once he was down in Miami at OCS. There were girls that needed dates down here, too, and that was fine - lonely was lonely wherever you were. He could have felt sorry for the guys here, but that was just their luck - his girlfriend at home wouldn't be taking dates with just anyone, he knew that for sure. That just wasn't the way Joan worked. She didn't write him terribly often, but that was just as well - he didn't have time to write her, either. Some fellows had girls who complained to high heaven about how often they got letters, but not Joan. She was pretty much perfect like that.

And once he got overseas, he just…didn't think about it, much. She was in a box, for the duration, wrapped in tissue, a beautiful thing he would return to after all of this was over unchanged and immaculate, and they'd go on just as they had before. He had a picture, in his locker, though he didn't bring it out much - pictures cramped a fellow's style when he had guests over for the night and he didn't like answering questions. They were here, now, and she was not - where was the question in that?

As their work started winding down he started reading more, and the Lee Miller from Berchtesgaden caught his eye. Someone's going to get it into his head that's she's available, he thought to himself. And we can't have that, now, can we?

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: The bimbos are back -Danny

Words: 1,391

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

xxix: Surprises

"Kate?"

The archer beamed at the sight of her. Cat rushed over to the girl and wrapped her arms around her. "It's so good to see you!" Kate held her tightly.

"What are you doing here?" Cat cupped her face in disbelief. "I thought—" She turned to look at Peter, but he was nowhere to be found. "What the..."

"Spidey said I had to come," Kate explained grinning. "I really wanted to see you."

Cat shook her head in incredulity, she laughed a little. "You're such a sight for sore eyes," she squeezed her cheeks gently, caressing the skin with her thumbs. "Beautiful as always."

Kate blushed. "I'd missed you."

"I'd missed you too."

"But you didn't call," Kate pointed out playfully.

Cat leaned her head against Kate's shoulder and wrapped her arms around the girl's waist. "I'm sorry. I've been going nonstop from one place to the other— I caught Russo—"

"I heard. Yelena found out like two days ago," Kate stroke her back lovingly. "Good job."

"Thank you," she sighed. "Now all I have to do is wait for Kraven."

Kate moved her away from her shoulder. "Why aren't you trying to seek him out?"

"Cause I'm talking to you," Cat replied jokingly.

"Oh, shut up!" Kate threw her head back. "I'm trying so hard to get over you and you're not helping!"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, though this time she was smiling guiltily. "I never get over anyone I date, I collect them all like Pokemon and see who's up for round two."

"That'll do it," Kate pushed her face away playfully. "Back off." Cat moved her hand away laughing, and Kate continued. "I heard you're staying at your ex's place, don't try to trick me into a threesome—"

"Oh my god," Cat laughed louder. "Who said that? I wouldn't!"

"I don't believe you," she chortled. "Clint warned me about you and I didn't listen, this is what I get."

"All of you acting like you don't love me," Cat frowned. "That's insulting. I'm way too pretty to be treated like this."

Kate's eyes softened, she cupped her face again and kissed her cheek. "You're right. You deserve the best of the best." It was Cat's turn to blush. Kate broke the hug and seized her phone. "Which is exactly why I'm here. I didn't come just to pay a visit to you and your brother."

Cat tilted her head. "What?"

"I know how to find Kraven," she showed Cat a picture of the man in the middle of a busy crowd. "We lost track of him when you vanished, but I made it my job to find him again, and I think I did."

"H-How?" Cat held the phone in wonder. "Why?"

"Because he almost killed two of my best friends," she raised a brow. "And I know those friends would like to get even. I heard Kurt's back on the planet."

"Jesus, y'all can't keep your mouths shut, huh?" Cat frowned.

"You should be grateful," Kate crossed her arms. "Now you don't have to make a plan. I'm glad 'cause you suck."

"That's true," Cat stared at the dark-haired girl with fondness. "I assume you also heard I'm an Avenger again?"

"Yes," she smiled. "A super like you belongs in the big leagues. So who are you recruiting?"

"You, if you're interested," she replied, handing back the phone. "Captain America, and all of those other heroes across the world I've been stalking for ages. But in order to do that, I have to get Kraven out of the way. A bunch of enhanced individuals in one place is like a candy store for him."

Kate paused. "Wouldn't that be convenient?"

"What?"

"We show him what he's looking for: Nightcrawler and you, Spider-man and I. Bet that'd be enough to lure him, right? He'll try to fight us to prove that he's better and we all just had luck."

Cat thought about it. "But if we do that, we should do it in a place where there will be no casualties. Just him and us."

Kate winked at her. "Trust me, we'll get everything ready."

"We?"

"Me and Harley," she clarified. "He's your guy in the chair, right? I'm your trustworthy source. We'll figure something out."

Cat went back to the city feeling energized and happy. Matthew called and asked her to pick up something she'd apparently left behind in his apartment, she agreed with no complaints.

"About time," Daredevil let her in, and he was too serious, even for his standards.

"What's going on?" Cat raised a brow. "What did I leave behind? A bomb?"

She stepped into the living room and found Parker seated in one of the individual chairs. He smiled awkwardly and waved. "Surprise."

The mutant came to a halt and looked between the two men. "Oh, my..." Cat cleared her throat. "Par... er, Bug— what are you doing here?"

"I thought you were here," he admitted, blushing a little. "I had been waiting for you on the rooftop when he found me..."

"He'd been there almost an hour," Matt said in a bad mood.

She wanted to laugh, but she was also baffled. "How on earth did you manage to come back again?"

Parker stared at her. "Little me didn't tell you?"

Cat understood this would take a while, and she was definitely not having that conversation with Matthew present. "Oookay, you and I go back to my apartment. I am so sorry he broke into your house—"

"I did not!" Parker got up and hurried over to her side.

She sent a glare his way. "Thank you for looking after him, DD."

"Make sure it doesn't happen again," Matt replied in a plain voice. "And don't give my address to any of your other friends."

"You got it, hot shot!" She smiled innocently. "See you!"

Parker muttered "Hotshot?" with disgust. Cat drove him out of the apartment. "What were you thinking?" She whispered angrily, urging him to walk faster. "Why didn't you go to Pete's apartment?"

"He wasn't home so I thought it didn't matter if I came here instead! I didn't know you'd moved out! Does that mean—?"

"No no no, you don't get to ask questions like this is normal," she scowled. "Why did you come back?"

He stared at her blankly. "I just missed you."

She spoke with exasperation. "Can't you just lie for once!"

He let out a childish laugh. "And you'd believe me? What am I supposed to say, that I'm here for the weather?"

For weeks she'd tried to convince herself that Parker was a dead end in her life, even Harley had spoken about him as if he'd been another loss, something she no longer had, but there he was again... still putting up a fight.

"You found Russo and Kraven?"

"Just Russo. He's in jail."

Parker smiled. "You didn't kill him?"

"No."

He pulled out something from his pocket. "May sent you this."

She looked down, the young man was holding a paper bag full of cookies. "Did you tell your aunt you were visiting me?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "She got really happy."

"In the middle of your school term—!"

"Cat," he opened the door of the building for her, and she stormed out heatedly. "My aunt loves you! Do you think she cared about school? As soon as I told her, she packed my bags," he snorted. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's designing wedding invitations as we speak—"

Cat stopped in the middle of the street and looked at him with horrified eyes. "I'm not doing that again."

"I was joking," he said, then frowned. "Wait, again? What do you—"

She walked past him, her eyes tearing up. "I told you not to get your hopes up—"

He caught up with her, seizing her wrist. "Cat! I'm not trying to get anything from you. I just... wanted to see you. I'll go back to my universe tomorrow night. I promise."

She stared at him with teary eyes. "You're so weird."

Parker raised his eyebrows. "You're weirder," his gaze softened, and she felt his thumb lovingly stroke her wrist. "That's why I like you so much."

Cat pulled her hand away. "You're lucky I got a substantial amount of money after I caught Russo. I can take you to dinner before I go. As a thank you for looking after me for a whole month. But you must explain to me how did you find a way to come back."

"Deal," he nodded once with a serious expression, though his eyes were bright and happy.

Cat turned around and resumed her walk, Parker punched the air celebrating his victory. She did her best to ignore it, and also to hide her own mirth.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​ @greengarsstuff​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​ @espressopatronum454​​ @jkthinkstoomuch @slytherinnqueen​

[bitbybitwrites]

7, 7, and 7 for the prompt game with klaine, of course!

7. bookstore!au+ 7. childhood friends + 7. "you had no idea, did you?"

***

OK, sooooo again, not a drabble ( I might just throw that part of the game out bc so far I can't seem to keep to it! 😂) But here are 802 words for you, @little-escapist!

****

Kurt shyly held the slim, gorgeously wrapped box towards Blaine.

“I’m sorry if it’s too late.  I saw the lights on, and I wanted to give you this before your big opening day tomorrow.”

Blaine carefully moved a stack of Illustrated Grimm’s Fairy Tales further down the counter so he had room to open the package.  He looked around the chaos of the bookstore. Most of the shelves were filled, but there was still so much to finish before the night was over for him. Such was the price of owning your own business. Anderson’s Corner (hopefully) would be worth it after all the long, exhausting nights he spent getting ready for the grand opening.

Blaine shook his head as he carefully tore away the paper covering the gift.  “Kurt, you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Um, consider it - hopefully a good luck gift?”

“Kurt,” Blaine whispered as he carefully lifted the lid of the box and saw what was inside.  “You . . you kept it?  All this time?”

Kurt smiled as Blaine lifted the well-worn, dog-eared copy of The Little Prince out of the box.

“All this time, Blaine,” Kurt said.  He averted his eyes and focused on the counter beneath his fingers.  “After you moved away and we lost touch, I would read it every night before bed.  I would take it everywhere with me.  For years.  I even slept with it under my pillow, if you’d believe it.”

“I do.” Blaine said softly, a sad smile on his face.  He clutched the book tightly to his chest, hoping maybe if he did, he could calm the rapid beating of his heart.

“During those really bad, dark days in high school, it would be with me in my backpack, tucked in between my other books,” Kurt said.  “It was like you were there with me, giving me courage when I needed it. Through all the locker shoves, the dumpster tosses.  The horrible names, the times I felt so invisible.  You were there.  Tucked in the pages of that book - you were there, reminding me of tea parties in the playhouse in my backyard, sleepovers in the treehouse at yours, summer picnics, building sandcastles on the beach, all those happy times.  It helped me get through a lot.”

“Kurt . .” Blaine’s heart ached as he thought about it - all those years they missed, all that time apart.

“Maybe it’ll be a good luck charm or something.  Keep it by the register.” Kurt smiled and shrugged sheepishly.

“Thank you so much,” Blaine said, staring at the book.

“To forget a friend is sad.  Not everyone has a friend.  And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer interested I anything but figures.” Kurt closes his eyes as he quotes the book from memory.

“Chapter 4.”

Kurt nodded and smiled.  “Yes, chapter 4.” 

“I never forgot you, Kurt,” Blaine confessed as he moved out from behind the counter, gently laying the book down upon it. “Every night since the move, I’d look up at the sky, missing you, and I’d count the stars and wonder if you were looking up at the same stars too.”

“I probably was. I never forgot you, either, Blaine.” Kurt murmured.

“When I was in the hospital. .  when I didn’t have a window to stargaze through, I’d close my eyes and dream of you.  I wondered how you were, if you were happy - what you looked like - if I’d ever see you again.” Blaine told him.

Blaine reached out and gently cupped Kurt’s face with his hand.  He smiled as he stared back into those beautiful blue eyes.  “And then, years later, there you were.  You walked right into my shop, and suddenly I had my best friend back, and that boy I fell in love with was suddenly a man that I fell head over heels for all over again.”

Kurt’s eyes shone with unshed tears.  It couldn’t be true. 

“Blaine . .” he gasped.

“You had no idea, did you?”

Kurt shook his head.  “Do you really mean it?”

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.” Blaine took another step closer and wound his free arm around Kurt’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Chapter 21.”

Blaine grinned. “Chapter 21,”

“And what does your heart see, Blaine?” Kurt whispered.

“You, Kurt,” Blaine told him as he leaned closer.  “Only you.”

As their lips met for the first time, Kurt melted into Blaine’s arms.  It was beautiful - everything he had dreamed and hoped for and more. And as befitting their locale, as the kiss deepened, a fleeting quote from one of Kurt’s favorite books crossed his mind:

“Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.” 

****

BTW the last quote there is from the book The Princess Bride by William Goldman. A favoritIe movie of mine as well - if you haven't seen it, what are you doing? Go watch it now!

If anyone else wants to play - AU+Trope+Prompt Game.

[ghostbonezzz]

Hello!

I just got into IDV and I'm in love with Kurt

So Inwas wondering where can I get the official IDV plushies and other merch?

hiiii!! ^-^

so i actually get all my merch from aliexpress I haven't found anywhere else good 2 get to from yet sorry qwq.

that or possibly eBay, you can only rlly get them from reselling cuz they don't ship 2 the us xp

good luck!