#yeah I’ll tag him too heh

[1driedpersimmon]

@cmoonghost I drew your Alfy 🥺 he is very cute n. Pretty n I love he… 🫶💕

[zweetpea]

Yandere Batfam X reader p2

Feat. the batfam! (Jason, Dick, and Barbara)

Part 2 of this!

Will be making a part three with Echo's birthday!

Tags: @sirentheblogger @xiqn04 @wpdarlingpan @midnightgrimoire @fantasyhopperhea @torye @sammydaboii @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @tatsuri-zomushiki @degenerates-posts @lostsomewhereinthegarden @ladylupuscrow @sheep-from-rad @pi1nkl0ver @roseytheteacup @justannie18

if you weren't tagged for some reason pls comment and i'll figure out how to fix it

You had been dropping Echo off for about half a year now. 

For some reason every time you had dropped echo off Damian was the one who answered the door, despite the fact that he hated you. He even once told you that he’d rather have a wanted thief as a step mother than you.

Regardless, today he wasn’t the one to open the door. It was a tall man who had jet black hair in a hairstyle reminiscent of MatPat. He was rather muscular and had big blue eyes. He just stared at you with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. His outfit was kind of basic: just a white tee shirt, a blue racer jacket, and some navy blue jeans.

“Um… hello?” You pulled Echo closer to you while the tall new man stared at you awkwardly.

“Hi… Hi! Uh, hi! I’m Richard but my siblings call me Dick.” He smiled nervously and held out his hand to shake.

You ignored his hand. “Well, siblings can be cruel.” 

Dick suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Heh, yeah.”

“So where’s the terror tot?” You said monotonously. 

“You mean Damian? Him and Bruce left for a gala in Switzerland last night.” He smiled shyly at you.

You facepalmed and sighed. “Why didn’t he tell me?” You pouted, very annoyed at your baby daddy.

Dick sensed your anger and tried to distract you. “Well Bruce asked me and Jason to look after our sister!”

You stepped back slightly. “Sister?” You tilted your head cautiously. 

“Hold on! We're doing what?!” Another man popped in from the doorway. He was slightly taller than Dick and had dark black hair with a long strip of white and blue eyes. He was wearing a worn-down bomber jacket, a black t-shirt and black ripped jeans.

Dick glared at him. “We’re helping take care of our little sister, JASON!”

He looked at you and propped one arm above his head against the door frame. He smirked at you and chuckled. “Oh so you’re the lovely lady Bruce can’t shut up about. Though I can’t exactly blame him. If you were mine I don’t think I’d ever let you go.” He looked you up and down with hooded eyes.

You and Dick gave him disturbed looks. Dick was the first to speak up. “Jason, stop being disgusting!” Dick smacked him on the back of the head.

“Can you blame me? She’s a beautiful woman! And she’s far too young for Bruce.” Jason looked at his older brother bored and slightly irritated. 

“I’m standing right here you know!” You growled, very vexed.

Jason smirked again. “I know. How about you come inside and keep me company.” 

She handed Echo over to Dick. “I’m late enough as it is. If I keep this up I’ll have my pay docked.” She turned to walk off.

“I have a trust fund! You could be my sugar baby!” Jason called from the doorway. 

“You are so disgusting.” Dick glared at Jason. 

Jason scoffs. “She’s hot. Plus I’m not wrong! She’s way too young for Bruce.” 

Dick brought Echo in and set her on the couch. She had gotten used to the place thanks to Damian so she didn’t cry without her mom. She did try to crawl away when Dick started to scold Jason. She almost fell off the couch when a certain redhead caught her.

“You both are idiots.” Barbara held Echo under the little baby’s arms.

“BABS!” Dick came over and gave her a side hug before taking Echo. “When did you get it?” 

She smiled. “Alfred let me in through the service door.” She had her hair tied back like usual and a green turtle neck sweater. She flopped herself on the end of the couch near where Jason was standing and smirked at him. “You boys would be lost without me.”

Jason glared at her. “Oh shut up!”

“Jason, be nice. We could really use the help Babs.” Dick sat next to her.

“I know.” She giggled. “So this is Bruce’s latest pet project?”

Jason sat perpendicular from them in the recliner. “You shoulda met her Ma, Barbie. She was a smokeshow. Way too hot for Bruce. In fact, I believe it’s my duty to take her for myself to make sure Bruce doesn’t get canceled for this inappropriate relationship.”

“JASON STOP!! You’re being inappropriate!” Dick scolded.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up! I saw the way you were looking at her! You act all high and mighty but you actually want to do exactly what I’m saying!”

Dick blushed and looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jason and Barbara could tell he was lying from the way he furrowed his brow. “She’s Bruce’s. He already called dibs and I’m not going to go behind his back. And you know what? I’m going to make sure you don’t either, JASON!!”

“Fine! Fine. Let’s just take care of the kid.” Jason grumbled and leaned his head against his fist, resting against the armrest of the recliner.

Barbara looked at him. “She’s not just a kid. She’s your sister.”

“Whatever!” Jason threw his hands up.

A little later Echo started crying so the three of them took her into the Kitchen.

“So what do babies eat?” Dick asked.

Jason shrugged. “I have some burritos from last night.”

Dick looked away thinking for a moment. “Well Echo can’t have solid food so you’ll have to put it in the blender.”

Jason shrugged. “If you say so.” He picks up Echo.

“THE BURRITOS NOT THE BABY YOU IDIOT!” Dick screamed. 

Barbara ripped Echo out of his hands. “Idiots, both of you. She left instructions for how to help Echo feed.” Barbara gave Echo her bottle and she started to suck. The littlest Wayne drank every last drop and Barbara burped her.

Dick smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “Wow! You’re amazing with her! You’re a natural!” 

“Thank you, Dick.” Barbara leaves to put Echo into her nursery. 

A few hours later you come to pick up Echo.

“Uh, Hello.” You grabbed your baby from Barbara. “It’s nice to see that she was in actually capable hands.”

Jason gasped. “Dick and I are plenty capable!”

You deadpanned at him. “Maybe so but Barbara was the first person in history to be awarded the Wayne Institute of Technology’s Scientific accolade while she was still in high school. I was very impressed with your work, Miss Gordon. Keep it up and someday you’ll be running Wayne enterprises for sure!” She shook Barbara’s hand and walked off with Echo.

Jason smirked and nudged Dick as Barbara was left their star struck. “I’ll share her with you.”

Dick looked down at his younger brother. “Deal.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Why did they change Fellow’s and Gidel’s name for EN but not Rollo’s? So weird you’d think they’d at least be consistent and change all the names or none at all.

[Referencing this post!]

hchfxbjsbajCgwhq Deep breaths, everyone 😅 Deeeeeeep breaths…

I know a lot of us might be displeased with the name changes (moreso with Fellow’s than with Gidel’s) but let’s remember that, at the end of the day, they’re just names. They’re not erasing the original names, they’re not changing the context of the event story, and no one will force you to use the new names if you don’t want to. Your feelings are valid, but please be mindful about how you express them (because unfortunately I fear it can very easily veer into insulting or talking down to the localization/the localization team or fans who don’t mind/actually like the name changes 💦 It is partly for this reason that I did not include the other asks I received on this topic, as they could be needlessly inflammatory).

That being said, here are my thoughts on the matter: initially, I didn’t like the names. My automatic thought was that they sound like a corny 4Kids dub where they changed the Obviously Japanese Name (ex: Ichigo) to something Very Western (ex: Zoey). However, I’ll also be the first to admit that I also initially found the Japanese names odd because who names their kid FELLOW?? It’s like naming someone Person. I’m used to it now, but it definitely took me weeks and weeks to consider “Fellow Honest” a full name.

I’ve seen some people say that Fellow and Gidel’s names are meant to be silly sounding (and so the localized names are actually fitting), but I don’t agree with that sentiment. To my knowledge, no one in-universe ever laughs at their names or says they’re out of place. If the names were intended to be perceived as silly, there would be remarks indicating this. For example, “Tsunotaro”/“Hornton” IS silly because characters make explicit mention of how strange the nickname is. This is not true of Fellow and Gidel, so I don’t believe their names are supposed to be unserious.

I’ve also seen a lot of people poking fun at “Ernesto Foulworth” because “it sounds like such an obvious name for a scammer”. And yeah, maybe that’s true depending on who’s looking at it. I get where people are coming from. Buuut to play devil’s advocate, “Fellow Honest” invokes similar vibes. Both names have that element of honesty/earnest, but “Fellow” is more of a “John Doe” or generic name whereas “FOULworth” sounds bad since we associate the word foul with negativity. Essentially, both names are shady in their own ways but “Ernesto Foulworth” gets more flack because foul triggers an automatic negative association whereas fellow is more neutral.

So then I sat with the localized names for a little longer and the changes started to make a little more sense. To me, both sound very Italian, which fits given that Pinocchio has Italian origins. Additionally, “Ernesto” looks and sounds like “earnest”, which refers to being truthful. His surname, “Foulworth”, may be a reference to Honest John’s full name? Worthington Foulfellow. (I have no insights for Gino, unfortunately… other than making him “match” Fellow’s name better since they’re a pair?)

In all honesty (heh) though, I still don’t really like the new names even considering that context. I’ll probably keep calling them by their Japanese ones. I’ll never be a fan of any name changes because it means I have to go back and edit the tags on ALL my related posts, lol

Side note: shoutout to all the folks saying the names sound Ace Attorney-esque, how you think of Ernesto de la Cruz from Coco, and/or joking about how the EN names are Fellow and Gidel’s fake identities/aliases while they’re on the run from the cops 😭 I laughed too hard reading those comments cbwhebjzbwiwhwlek

Now, I’m not sure why the names were changed considering that names prior have largely been unchanged (Cheka, Marja, Najma, Rollo, etc.), save for maybe some spelling changes (Meleanor -> Maleanor, Baul -> Baur, Farena -> Falena, Leven -> Raverne, etc.). The only huge exception to this is Kifaji, who became Neji in EN. Here’s some theories and speculation going around in the fandom about Fellow and Gidel’s changes:

Copyright issues???? For example, you can’t really trademark “Fellow” and “Honest”, but you could maybe trademark “Ernesto Foulworth”. (This doesn’t explain Gino’s name or why they couldn’t trademark “Fellow Honest”.)

Another interpretation of copyright issues theory is that there’s weird legal stuff happening between Aniplex and Disney (international), which forced the name changes. (I think this one assumes a lot of tight regulations and hinges on how litigious big corpos and especially Disney are when it comes to “protecting” their brand and properties.)

Some have suggested that “Fellow Honest” is noun-adjective word order, which is uncommon in English. In “Ernesto Foulworth”, the first name looks and sounds like the adjective “earnest”, meaning the adjective(s) come first, which is more common in English. (This theory is a little incomplete though; there is no noun in the localized name to complete the thought. Additionally, Japanese also usually goes with the adjective-noun rule, so “Fellow Honest” would be an unusual name for JP too. And again, no explanation for Gino.)

… ITALIAn REP BABY 🇮🇹

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Howdy! Jdjdjfh I hope you're still taking Gravity Falls Stan/Ford requests--

What if the reader and Ford/Stan (separate) were married, but the reader suffered a traumatic head injury in a car accident? This injury causes them to be unable to retain memories for more than a day. Every morning, they wake up next to this mysterious, handsome man who has to explain to them that they are married—and have been for years. The reader can't help but feel guilty about this situation. :( We need some lovey-dovey comfort

Sorry if this is long or complicated kfhfkfh thank you for your time!!

Have a good day/night :)) 💗 love your writing so much

you’ll always remember | Stanley Pines x reader

tags: sfw, memory loss, established relationship

a/n: hi, lovely anon! thank you for sending this in and for your sweet words!💗 this little piece focuses on Stan for now. but don’t worry, i’ve got something equally heartfelt coming for Ford too, ill post it a lil bit later

thank you for trusting me with your emotions and have a beautiful day/night, darling!

Ford version

you open your eyes and the next thing you feel is headache, your head feels. . . way too heavy, but sadly, not from oversleeping or the nice kind from sleeping in. it’s different type of pain. 

you rub your eyes, feeling lost and blink around the room, with fear realising you don’t understand where you are. your messy thoughts are interrupted by the bed creaking when you sit up and your heart does this awful little jump when you see him.

this man.  

this. . . mysterious man with a broad chest, an old tank top clinging to it. there’s golden chain around his neck, glinting against the soft peppered hairs of his chest. 

and you. . . you don’t know him.  

your stomach twists immediately. the room doesn’t look familiar, either, nothing does. these stacks of magazines, mugs, a nightstand that’s barely holding itself together. you hear a faint sound of birds outside, but even that won’t calm your mind 

“mornin’, sweetheart, sleep okay?”  

your heart lurches, panic curling up your throat. you try to get up from bed, but everything feels too heavy and weird, your body barely listens to you, your limbs hurt

you freeze, looking a bit scared, but more than all confused. “who— who are you?” 

Stanley sighs, nodding at your words, agreeing with you. it’s not the first time he’s heard it. you can tell from the way his face falls, his smile disappearing, but then he covers it up with a gentle grin

“right. uh, this part,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. “okay, so. you don’t remember me. look, baby, my name’s Stan. Stanley Pines. i’m your husband.”

your what?

“yeah, i know. sounds like a bad joke, but it’s true. you’ve got, uh. . .” he avoids your wide-eyed stare. “you’ve got a thing. memory stuff. from the accident. doc says you won’t remember much past a day. it’s been like this for a while now, heh.”

his tone doesn’t sound all that happy, because for Stanley it’s just as hard as it is for you. he explains it like it physically pains him to spell all this shocking nonsense out for you.

“i know this ain’t fair to you. shit, it ain’t fair to either of us. but i’m here. i’ll always be here, ‘kay? even if you wake up every day thinkin’ i’m some creep who wandered in off the street.” 

you just look at him, unable to understand what he’s talking about after the word “husband”. husband. . . gosh, feels like your brain just started to hurt more. your mind scrambles, clawing at the edges of something it can’t reach, no matter how hard you try.

“don’t— don’t look so freaked out, kid,” Stan says quickly, seeing your panic. “here, look—”  

he reaches for something on the nightstand, hoping each time that it will work. Its an old picture frame, a little bit worn, but when he holds it out with a hopeful look, you see yourself in it. laughing. leaning into him. his arm’s slung around your shoulder as he grins, his fez perched crookedly on his head. 

“that’s us,” Stan says softly, watching your reaction. “took that on our anniversary, up at lookout point. you love that spot, always goin’ on about the view. even dragged me up there at sunrise once.” he chuckles, but his eyes are watching you carefully, he’s waiting you to give some reaction, please just. . . please. he waits to see that beautiful smile of yours he always loved so much and you want to smile. you want to remember. 

but there’s nothing.  

corners of your mouth lowers and your chest tightens, guilt bubbling up inside. “i. . .” wait, what was his name again? damn. “don’t remember that. i don’t remember you.”

Stan’s smile wobbles for half a second before he catches it. “yeah, i figured. but that’s okay. s’not your fault, sugar.”  

you hate that. you hate how kind he is about it, how patient, but at the same time how broken his voice sounds.

Stanley sighs, rubbing at his face, trying to scrub away years of exhaustion. then he looks at you again.

with hope in his eyes.

“here, how about this?” he says suddenly, brightening. he pulls open the nightstand drawer and takes out another photo, this one of you, him and some. . . kids? it’s twins, a boy and girl in some funny looking sweater, both with brown hair, all of you standing by the lake. you’re holding up a huge fish, grinning from ear to ear, and Stan’s standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders looking so damn proud of his lovely little human.

“this was last summer,” Stan tells you, tapping the glass with his thumb. “we went fishin’. you caught that sucker all by yourself. wouldn’t stop braggin’ for weeks.”

a faint smile appears on your lips. 

“still got the tackle box you picked out, too,” Stan adds with a laugh. “you said the one i had was too ‘junkyard chic.’ you’ve got a sharp tongue on ya, y’know that?”  

your fingers tremble as you reach to take photo from his hands. you look at it, look at that person who looks like you, with a smile’s brighter than the sun and these eyes. . . sparkling, as if you’ve just heard the funniest joke in the world.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, staring down at your hands. tears spilling down your cheeks. “i- i don’t know how you do this. every day. i can’t- i can’t even remember, Stan.”

the first time you said his name. 

“hey, hey.” his hand comes up, hovering over your shoulder, rubbing it slightly to calm you. he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch you yet, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but you look up and he’s already leaning closer. “don’t you dare apologize for this, sweetheart. you didn’t ask for it. none of this is your fault, y’hear me?”  

you nod weakly, but he isn’t done.  

“you’re still you. still the same stubborn, beautiful, funny, smart, pain-in-the-ass i fell for, okay? you’re stuck with me, like it or not. you take all the time you need, honeybun. i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

you nod, still doubting, lowering your eyes to that photo again. 

“now, how about we get some breakfast? you always say my stancakes are the best damn thing in oregon.” Stan smiles at you because you’re his whole world. and even though the pieces don’t always fit in your mind, Stanley still loves you with this kind of affection that’s lived a thousand lifetimes and he knows, somewhere deep in your mind, you love him too. he just gotta try a bit harder.

when you meet his eyes, for the first time, you feel something painfully familiar deep inside of you. as if he’s the one you’d always reach for in a sea of faces. and you laugh softly

“i say that, huh?” 

“every time,” noticing that little change in your voice, Stan grins and winks at you. “c’mon, let me prove it to ya, baby.”

even though your head’s a mess and your heart feels like it’s been put through a blender, you want to believe him. you take his hand, noticing a ring around his finger and only now you realise you are wearing one too

….

“but what if i never remember?” you ask as you trace the edges of his beautiful face with trembling fingers, trying to commit it to memory.

he just smiles and wraps his big hands around your waist.

“then i’ll just remind ya every day. as long as it takes.”

[essentiallyleaf]

day 10. hate sex. with. nana.

472 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, hate sex, degradation, ass play, rimming, anything else that i’m missing?, this started as a brat taming fic in my mind, but honestly, you don’t tame shit in this one, dialogue only, basically improv, i know the pic is clashing, i just kinda like it that way.

notes.

meant for this to be a decent amount longer, but i am emotionally spent from answering an ask that i felt was much more important than all of this. i need to look at pokemon sleeping adorably now. unsurely, leaf.

“Ach-ptoo!”

“Don’t you dare touch me back there, boy”

“Oh, shut up, you were begging for me to fuck you in the ass just three days ago! Now stay still for a second”

“Mmmmmgh-yeahh”

“It’s just my thumb and you’re already mewling, you little bunny slut”

“Nnngh- I’ll choke you as soon as you let me ride”

“And, enlighten me, why would I do that?”

“Because you fucking love it, you idiotic dick with legs!”

“You’d be too busy cumming on my dick, and you know that”

“Fuh- Wanna bet?”

“You ever been to Vegas? Because you seem to be into purposefully losing money”

“Who said I was talking about money?”

“What are you suggesting, then?”

“I ride you, and whoever cums first gives the other five minutes”

“Five minutes?”

“To do what the other wants with them. Mmmmhh- Deal?”

“Deal. Straddle me”

“You have no idea what you just put yourself into”

“Can’t wait to find out”

“Mmmmhhh, can you even handle cumming twice in the span of five minutes?”

“I could handle anything. But I’m afraid you’re not gonna get to find out”

“Oh, such a powerful man”

“You’re the one who’s moaning here”

“Yeah, wanna join?”

“Aaaahh, fucking, slow down!”

“Already begging?”

“We haven’t even started, as far as I’m concerned”

“Really? Cause by the way you’re gripping onto that pillow, most would disagree”

“Mmmmgh- You have no idea”

“What? It seems to me, that I know a lot of things. Nnngh. I know you love how I’m riding you, I know you’ll come before me, and I know you’re a weak man, who only takes bets because his disproportionate ego can’t fathom the idea of a girl, and a smaller girl nonetheless, having him beg for mercy!”

“Mmmmgwaaaahhh, aaah, ah… aah…”

“Pathetic”

“...”

“Fucking pathetic little boy, you came in, how long was that, even?”

“Fuh- You sex-addicted bitch…”

“Heh. You don’t deserve any of this”

“...”

“Now lay still, legs up”

“What?”

“Fucking, bend your legs and pull them up to your chest! Is that hard to understand?”

“Why? Just, choke me and let’s get this over with!”

“Hmph. You came, moaning like a whore, and now you’re trying to run away with your tail between your legs? You wanna get away with a pair of tiny hands around your neck? You don’t have a clue, do you? Honestly, that’s just cute. You’re a cute little bitch, that’s what you are. Now, for the last time, your fucking legs. Up.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“This”

“Gwaaaahhh- Not your tongue there! Jesus Christ, fuck!”

“...”

“Please. Please. Mmmmggghh- Please, just beat my dick. Just, destroy it. Fuckkk- I’ll take anything”

“...”

“Whore, you whore. You bunny devil whore. Fuckinggg- You will see. You have no idea what- I’ll breaknngggaaaahh. Aaaahh. AAAAAAHHHHMMMMHHHFUH-”

“...”

“...”

“Honestly, felt like a punishment for me, more than anything”

-

footnotes.

i hope you have a great day today. especially, leaf.

[the-golden-comet]

🌸✨OC Questionnaire Tag +bonus Character Voice✨🌺

Thank you for this tag @mysticstarlightduck here, a character voice tag here, more questions from @ominous-feychild here and @fantasy-things-and-such here✨

My questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

What was the worst day of your life?

What's your worst nightmare?

If a monster asked you your worst nightmare, what would you tell it and why?

"What's your relationship with your family like?"

"Do you have any hobbies? if so, what ones?"

"Do you dream often? what about?"

"What is the one thing you would not wish on your greatest adversary?

And answering the questions With this voice:

"(sighs, done with life) Alright, what did you do now?"

Guess who has the perfect OC to answer these? That’s right: Come on out, Tyr:

From In The Realm Of Giants

Sucks. Getting jostled around in a jar isn’t the most comfortable sleeping space. Go figure, right? (Glares up at Tav)

No. I’m an only child. Mom died when I was five, and Dad’s been overprotective of his only son. Heh….probably should’ve listened in hindsight…

Right after Mom died, we were grieving. Dad grieved a long, long time. He was so paranoid he’d lose me too, that he didn’t let me outside our cottage home for a year. I had to really fight hard to show him that I can be worthy of leadership, that I’m okay, and he doesn’t need to smother me. I passed all the trials and he still sees me as this defenseless child. I’m twenty-two now; I don’t need to have him breathing down my neck.

Losing my mother. How Dad sat me down, tears welled in his eyes, choking out that Mom wasn’t coming back. I felt lost…confused….angry. D-damn it….

(Glares up at the giant from inside the jar) I dunno, Tav. What IS my worst nightmare?

(still glaring, words dripping with venomous sarcasm) OH GEE, I DON’T KNOW, GUSTAV. What WOULD I tell you?

I love my dad and my village. Yeah, he can be a bit overbearing at times, but I can see why. I’m a rebellious little shit, and I caused a lot of trouble for him. And the village…I would die to protect my people. Oh Dad, I’m sorry….I hope everyone’s doing alright….

Besides not getting eaten by a giant? I did my trainings to get all my marks. I guess you can call those hobbies….? I passed my archery test for the Mark of the Snake, led a successful pack hunt for my Mark of the Wolf, and passed the fishing trial for my Mark of the Bear

Usually it’s nightmares about getting eaten alive….being abducted by this dumbass didn’t help that—H-HEY! Don’t jostle the jar!! Fucker, you did that on purpose!! I see you snickering!!

(Glaring up at Gustav so intensely the sun couldn’t burn him to the same degree)

G: …..Huh? What? I wasn’t paying attention. 🤷‍♂️

Whew! I’ll leave these same questions for anyone else who wants to answer, as little or as many as you want in any order! ✨

Tagging (no pressure): @finickyfelix , @illarian-rambling , @saturnine-saturneight , @rivenantiqnerd , @noxxytocin , @pixies-love-envy , @honeybewrites , @drchenquill , @theaistired , @aintgonnatakethis , @willtheweaver , @autism-purgatory , @gioiaalbanoart , @alinacapellabooks , @fortunatetragedy , @theverumproject , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @wyked-ao3 , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @paeliae-occasionally , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @jev-urisk , @thatuselesshuman , @lychhiker-writes +open tag! ✨

[zepskies]

How would Beau comfort reader who’s gotten home from work and is feeling overwhelmed and sooky? I’m in need of comfort my the cutie patootie pls and thank you beloved 🫶🥺

Hello, my love!

I know it's been a while since you requested this @chernayawidow, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling down. It’s my pleasure to fulfill this prompt for you! 😘💞

AN: This is sort of a sequel to “Didn’t Mean to Stay,” but can be read as a stand-alone.

Word Count: 3,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, lots of hurt/comfort, fluff, and feels.

Imagine: Beau gives you the support you need.

You heaved a sigh while climbing up the short flight of stairs to your apartment. Why the hell you decided to live on the second floor, you had no idea…

Okay, mainly for the safety aspect of being a single woman living alone, but at least for the past year, you hadn’t been all that single (or alone, for that matter).

Seeing Beau’s truck in the parking lot reminded you that your boyfriend was already home from work. It was rare that you got here after him, but you perked up a little.

I hope he got something for dinner. Your stomach began to rumble at even the first stray thought of food. After the ridiculous day you’d had, you’d happily eat your weight in just about anything.

A hearty sandwich, Chinese lo mien, a whopping burger with fries…hell, you’d eat a whole damn bag of pizza rolls. As long as it was hot and you didn’t have to cook it.

Once you managed to insert your key and unlock the apartment, immediately there was too much sound coming from the living room. Guns and blasting and whoops and hollers. It all grated on your ears and your frayed psyche.

You grimaced as you locked the door behind you.

“Are we being invaded?!” you called.

Mercifully, the cacophony ceased as you walked into the living room and found your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. On the TV was an old western classic, The Magnificent Seven.

Typical, you thought. Your Texan cowboy loved his westerns.

“Sorry. Too loud?” he asked.

“Just a touch,” you replied.

“Well, I’m glad you're home.” Beau nodded at the TV. “Was gonna ask you what your Netflix password is.”

“What, don’t tell me you settled for 1960s cowboys?” you quipped.  

You dumped your purse on the coffee table and sunk onto the couch next to him. Beau slid an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer. You obliged by shucking off your shoes and resting against him, with your head on his shoulder. You let out a long sigh.

“Well, that was my fallback plan. See, damn Netflix booted me out and I’m really gearing up for that new season of Cake or Cake,” Beau said, with a somewhat childish smile that almost succeeded in tugging your lips upwards as well. Your brows drew together.

“Cake or…oh my God. You mean Is It Cake?” you asked. You nearly slapped yourself with your own hand as it came up to cover your eyes. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“Ah, yeah. That one.” Beau grinned.

“I just can’t figure out how I keep guessing so wrong," he continued. "It looks like a hat. It should be a hat. How the hell is it actually cake? These guys are just so damn talented, I’ll tell ya. I mean, I’ve eaten my fair share of quality cake, but I ain’t never eaten a hat cake…though that does sound good to me, now that I think about it. Heh, I could finally say, ‘if that ain’t real, I’ll eat my own hat.’ And I’d actually be able to take a bite.”

Now, normally you found boyfriend’s diatribes incredibly endearing. Beau was a talker, and you appreciated having him with you at social gatherings. Not only was he great at connecting with people (something you very much admired), but the man was damn good at filling a silence.

Today, however, he was feeding the headache pulsing behind your eyes. You loved him dearly. Yet you were tempted to dig your nails into your own arm just to stop yourself from snapping at him to please, stop talking.

“Speakin’ of food, that reminds me. My stomach’s damn near ready to eat itself.” He eyed you. “What’s for dinner, baby?”

Your hand slid from your face and slapped onto your leg. Your head slowly turned to him.

“I don’t know, Beau. What’d you cook?” you said tartly.

It was an effort, considering how comfortable you were while tucked against him, but you moved his arm off your hip and lifted your heavy-feeling body off the couch. Shaking your head, you trudged a path over to your room.

You didn’t see it, but Beau frowned. Though you heard him follow after you. You did your best to go about your business, unbuttoning your pants and starting on your blouse. You were just so damn tired, and probably still anxious. Even your hands were trembling and fumbling with the buttons.

Still, you sensed him coming closer, saw his sock-covered feet out of the corner of your eye. The rest of him was comfortably dressed in sweatpants and a wool sweater you bought for him last month; he was getting better, but still acclimating to Montana winters.

“You’ve been here all this time,” you grumbled. “You see how late I’m coming in, and you don’t think, hey, my girl’s gonna be tired. Why don’t I figure out how to work the stove so she doesn’t have to worry about feeding my six-foot-ass, bottomless pit—”

Beau’s hands stilled yours, and he took over unbuttoning your blouse to help you. He bent his head enough to catch your eyes, smiling a little at your grumpy face.

“All right, all right. I see your point,” he said. “You had a bitch of day, huh?”

“The longest of my damn life,” you said. The stress of each moment played behind your eyes. So much that they stung with unshed tears when you raised your gaze to meet his.

Beau’s brows furrowed in sympathy. He paused in what he was doing to stroke your cheek and press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And I wanna hear about it, but first, you go take a nice long shower,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Food,” you said petulantly. But he was being too sweet for you to be all that annoyed with him. A reluctant smile was growing across your lips. Beau smirked.

“You in the mood for Italian? Chinese? Maybe feeling a little adventurous and wanna try that Greek place down the street?” he suggested. “I think they deliver.”

By now he’d worked your blouse open. His hands were finding their way along the curve of your waist, smoothly across your skin, then meeting at the small of your back. He pressed the heel of one hand there, where he knew your shitty desk chair often made you ache.

You gripped his strong arms for support and leaned into him. You let out a sigh and rested your cheek against his chest, where he dropped another kiss on the top of your head.

“Greek sounds good, actually,” you confessed.

“Mmm, hell yeah. You want chicken, steak, or lamb on your gyro?” he asked. You felt the reverberation of his hum, and it was weirdly soothing. Though his question reminded you of one of your favorite movies that you too often quoted to him: My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

“What you mean he don’t eat no meat?” you said with a giggle. Beau’s lips moved to your forehead, and you felt the shape of his smile.

“It’s okay, I make lamb,” you both said together.

He chuckled and held you a bit tighter, secure and comforting. “All right. Lamb it is…you think they got cake on the menu?”

When you laughed, it was muffled by his sweater.

After a hot shower, good food, and three episodes of Is It Cake later, you were falling asleep on your corner of the couch.

All through dinner, Beau had listened to you vent about your day. About the problems your coworkers had hoisted on you to solve in the midst of a massive project you were already tackling. How your boss then blamed you for not coming to her first before you overloaded yourself, and how you’d very seriously contemplated going to HR before you figured just dealing with it would cause you less grief in the end.

Your boyfriend listened and gave his two cents, both supportive and fair. That was another thing you liked about him; he was always fair.

Now, he roused you out of your drowsy state when his arms wrapped around your frame and lifted you up.

You whined in protest. “Whaaat? Don’t move me.”

“Nope, you’re goin’ to bed,” he said, in his sheriff’s voice that boded no argument. You grumbled, but you still snuggled closer to his chest and pressed your sleepy face into his neck.

Smirking, he walked you into the bedroom and laid you down on your side of the bed. He came to your place often enough that he now had his own side, complete with his own nightstand and a couple of drawers of your dresser, even a bit of closet space.

You really should’ve just told him to move the hell in already, but you weren’t like Beau. He was a man of action. He processed things quickly and made decisions just as fast. His job demanded him to be that way.

You tended to drag your feet. You also tended to worry, and weigh pros and cons, and you were cautious by nature. Even dating this man had been a slow process, for which he’d been very patient with you. (And you with him, especially in the beginning as he learned to open up to you.)

The evidence was plain to see, as he raised the blankets and helped you roll underneath them. You just took him by surprise when you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down with you.

“Hey!” he laughed. He had to brace himself against the mattress before he crushed you. His knees fell on either side of your hips while your arms twined around his neck.

“You’re a wily one, even half-asleep,” he remarked. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his soft brown hair.

“Like a rattlesnake in the tall grass,” you teased. In fairness, the two of you had gotten into watching David Attenborough's nature documentaries.

Beau’s brows raised, his smile deepening.  

“Oh yeah? Better not mess around then,” he chuckled. “I might just get bit.”  

You snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You leaned up until your lips were nearly brushing his. Beau’s eyes lowered to your face, taking in all the things that felt more like home than his little trailer near the woods.

Just before you would’ve closed the small breadth of distance, you veered away from his mouth and went for his neck instead. He even flinched at the tease of your teeth playfully biting him.

"You little vixen!" He laughed deeply as he unwound your arms from his neck. He pinned you down to the bed and pressed his hips down into yours over the sheets. But it was his claiming lips that stopped you from fighting back.

Your shoulders trembled with giggles that he swallowed up, kiss after kiss. Your eyes closed as he dragged the sheets down away from your body. His hands caressed you through your thin tank top, brushing over a hardened nipple with the back of his hand, then squeezing your breast through the fabric.

You sighed into his mouth. “I know I kind of started this, but I’m really tired, baby…”

“Who says you gotta do anything?” rumbled his rich voice.

A tremor of heat ran through you. Even with your eyes closed, your exhausted body responded to his touch. His lips drew a hot, wet path down your neck, all while his hands did sinfully good things, sliding under your tank top and gliding against your skin. You let him take it all the way off, followed by your pajama pants and cotton panties, though he paused to squeeze your ass in appreciation.

“Someone’s been doing squats,” he noted, grinning down at you.

“Nah, just an extra slice of that honey cake,” you retorted. Apparently, the Greeks liked honey on everything.

Beau’s head tilted. “Huh. Well, I do like me some cake.”

You laughed, then jolted with a yelp when he slapped a bare cheek.

But you couldn’t just lay idle when he started on his own clothes. You sat up and helped him raise the sweater up and over his shoulders, but he stopped you.

“I mean it. You just lie back and relax,” he said, giving you a charming grin. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes; he was just too damn good to you.

While he finished taking off the sweater, your hands drifted down to the waistband of his pants. You caressed the hardening length of him, earning a hiss and a groan from him.

“Can’t I just…” you tried.

With difficulty, Beau grabbed your wrist. He raised a brow at you and guided you back down.

“For once, I’m ‘a need you to listen to me,” he said, kissing your cheek and then the other side of your neck.

You breathed a laugh, but it caught on a moan as his fingers brushed through your wet folds. He made a sound of approval. And those nimble fingers gathered some of your wetness and began circling slowly over your clit.

You sucked in a breath and arched against him. You even whimpered a little as his free hand wound through your hair, giving him further access to your neck. He hummed against your skin and grazed his teeth under your ear.

“I gotcha, baby. Whenever you need it,” he said, low and steady. You gripped his arms for dear life as two of his fingers slipped deep inside you. You panted into his neck, rocked your hips mostly in time with his fingers as they twisted and pulsed around your tightening walls. His thumb rubbed against your throbbing clit.

“Please,” you whispered into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. “Want you inside me.”

“We’re gettin’ there,” Beau nodded. He was breathing harder too, just from anticipation. The sounds you were making, the way you were squeezing his hand from the inside had him painfully hard.

“Now,” you insisted. Your hands moved to grip his hair, and your lips met his in a devouring kiss.

Beau matched your passion with closed eyes and furrowed brows. He’d had a plan for you at the start of this, but what kind of man would he be if he didn’t abide by your wishes?

So he withdrew his fingers from your slick pussy, even though you uttered a shuddering breath. It took everything you had within you to remain still and resting against the pillows as you caught your breath. You wanted to wrestle down his sweatpants yourself and show your boyfriend how appreciative you could be.

But you also appreciated what he was trying to do. You watched him with tired, but still hungry eyes as he kicked off the pants and the boxer briefs and returned to you, bracing a forearm above your head after he spread your legs and raised up your knees.

He lowered himself between the warm cradle of your thighs and kissed down your chest, licked between the valley of your breasts.

You arched up again when his tongue found your nipple, swirling around it, and finally taking it between his teeth. His hips rolled against yours, making his cock press against your core teasingly.

“Beau, for the love of God,” you moaned.

He chuckled. “Maybe you oughta learn how to be patient.”

You grabbed his bearded face between both hands and raised him up to you. He noted your challenging brow, but also your smile.

“Maybe you shouldn’t tease the rattlesnake,” you replied.

Beau laughed and ducked his forehead against yours. “Okay, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

He nosed at your cheek, angling for a kiss. You tipped your head back and welcomed his lips, especially when his tongue slipped past to tangle with yours. His forearm was braced above your head, but his free hand left your hip to line himself up to your entrance.

Another shudder went through your body as he finally slid home inside you. The shape and feeling of his cock was familiar as it stretched your inner walls, and you caught his moan in your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed, forcing him in deeper. His eyes screwed shut as he lost focus for a moment. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the feeling of you, or the sound of your voice, or the way you trusted him, but still tried to give as much as you took.

He pulled out nearly all the way, slowly sliding back in so you’d feel every inch. You clenched on him as a tremble ran through your body.

You uttered a broken gasp of his name that spearheaded goosebumps across his skin. And his next movements were faster, though just as deep.

He followed the encouragements of your voice, especially when he shifted his hips at an angle he knew would make you writhe. His fingers stroking your already sensitive clit, in time with his last wild thrusts, had you threatening to rip out a chunk of his hair. Instead, you gasped in his ear and dug your fingers into his hips.

His own release followed yours shortly after; he could only resist you squeezing the life out of him from the inside out for so long. And you held him afterwards, even though he still had a trembling arm braced above you.

Your hands smoothed up and down his back, trailing lightly with your nails. His breath was hot, but not uncomfortable against your neck.

You felt absolutely boneless as your legs slid from his hips. He pulled out of you soon after, but your embrace kept him from moving very far. He rested on his side, and you turned towards him. You both knew you’d have to deal with the sheets and the cleanup, but not just yet.

You carded your fingers more soothingly through his hair and drew his face back to yours.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. And you didn’t just mean in this bed. “I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Beau’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. Your lips formed a tired smile before they pressed softly to his. “I love you.”

Beau took a moment to brush a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. He’d believed in second chances before he met you…just not for himself. Meeting you made him swear by them.

“Love you too,” he said.

And the warmth of that bone-deep knowledge was more satisfying than even the heftiest slice of cake.

AN: God, I love Beau. I miss Big Sky. 😭 But feel free to let me know what you think of this one! It's only my second time, but I really do love writing this guy. ❤️

And tell me...are you team cake 🍰 or team pie 🥧?

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[tinytalkingtina]

Born to Run

Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series

4k words | Rating: E

Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)

Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"

The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event

Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.

He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.

Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 

No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.

All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.

“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)

He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”

The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.

As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.

An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.

"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."

"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.

"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.

“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"

"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"

A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.

Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 

Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”

Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 

Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.

“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.

The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.

Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.

Steve Harrington made him nervous. It wasn’t necessarily how loud the guy was. Eddie could understand the need to fill a room up. He could vaguely remember a quieter pre-pubescent Harrington before his dramatic transformation, dressed in tiny polos and khakis and halfheartedly kicking around a soccer ball. Now, his entire wardrobe consisted solely of black and red accented with flashy gold rings. The thick combat boots he wore constantly made him tower over everyone else, and the ever-growing collection of tattoos scattered on his body thoroughly scandalized each and every teacher. What they all meant was a perennial topic of discussion amongst the student body.

A voice echoed down from one of the boulders: “Oh hey, look who showed up, it’s Eddie Munson himself! Heard from your sidekick Hagan you’re the reason Hawkins is going to States.”

Steve was stretched out, lounging on the top of the rock, a pair of drumsticks held loosely in one hand.

“Yup, we are. First time in five years actually.” The state championships. There would be college recruiters there, and with them the promise of scholarships that’d get him out of this town. Somewhere far away from the looming threat of the plant bending his back prematurely like it had Wayne’s. Somewhere no one had heard the name of Al Munson.

“Well then.” Steve practically purred as he smoothly jumped down to the ground. He gave his drumsticks a twirl before stashing them in his pocket. “You sure got ‘em, didn’t you Tiger.”

Yeah, there it was. Seemed like sometimes, Harrington could see right through him, like he knew about how his thoughts occasionally strayed to—nope.

Eddie crossed his arms and tried to keep his face neutral. “Uh-huh.”

“Don’t you know it’s polite to thank someone when they compliment you?” Steve’s eyes sparkled with amusement. The fucker was toying with him. Worse, he was enjoying it.

Summoning every ounce of cockiness he possessed, Eddie stood up straight. Sure, this close Harrington had several inches on him, but it didn’t matter. Only one of them could throw the party of the year, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the unpopular weirdo in front of him.

“Shouldn’t you be the one thanking me? I let you sell your shit at my party.”

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you.” Steve smirked. “Tell me Munson, what’s stopping me from taking my goodies to, say, the basketball team’s next rager and skipping out on your little get together entirely? Don’t have to dirty my shoes at their parties. They choose to host at a house.”

Eddie gritted his teeth. “Hey fuck you man, not all of us have—”

“Didn’t say I minded,” Steve plowed on, interrupting him. “Maybe I like the fresh air and the…view. Just like to enjoy them peacefully.” He stood there with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

Eddie could feel his face flushing but he held his ground. “Never stopped you from helping yourself to our beer.”

“Free shitty beer, just what I look forward to.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I gotta say, wasn’t really expecting you to come here. Don’t you usually send someone else to get your fix?”

Eddie shrugged. “Needed a change. And we both know you overcharge Tommy.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” Steve barked out a laugh. “But he deserves the asshole tax. Just weed for you tonight? There’s all kinds of ways to unwind if your usual methods are leaving you…unsatisfied there Munson.”

Vividly, Eddie was reminded of the graffiti scribbled on the walls above the urinals near the gym: Score a touchdown, then score with SH. More often than not, Steve could be found spectating the games, quietly dealing underneath the bleachers. On occasion, one girl or another could be seen emerging from underneath and brushing dirt off her skirt. But there was that other rumor, one that no guy would ever admit to having personal experience with. That if you won, Harrington would give anyone weed for free if they got on their knees for him and—woah there. What was wrong with him tonight?

“Th-think the weed is jus’ fine, ain’t lookin’ for much else.” he stammered out. Shit, why did his accent have to slip now of all times? “I mean, weed is all I need. Those fucking pricks from Greencastle got under my skin.” Assholes thought they were so big, mocking his out of style sneakers. Those shoes hadn't stopped him from shaving half a second off the regional record, but he couldn't help but still feel the barbs from their insults lodged under his skin, festering.

Steve cocked his head as he stared at Eddie with an unreadable expression on his face. Finally he broke into a disarming smile. Eddie couldn’t remember ever seeing Steve sincerely express happiness, at least not from this distance. He would have remembered how prett—how his eyes lit up.

“I’m in a band you know. Pierced Scepter. We play down at this shitty dive bar and yeah, usually it’s a crowd of four drunks and the bartender, but it doesn’t matter. Being on any stage is…fuck it’s awesome. But sometimes it’s a little too much to just pack it all up right after. So I come out here to scream my head off, get it all out. Better off terrorizing the birds than picking fights when my parents are around.” Steve unconsciously rubbed his palm as he laughed humorlessly. “Saves on the screaming matches at home and the. Well.”

“Didn’t realize rich folks got their own hands dirty like that.” Carol’s parents had left the task of punishment to her nanny, preferring to swoop in with carrots after the stick had been administered.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure my dad would say something about how ‘real men are responsible for disciplining their kids so they don’t get soft.’ Though what he considers ‘soft’ changes a lot based on his mood. And whether he’s wearing a belt or suspenders that day.”

“G-d, who knew our dads have something in common then?” Eddie snorted. “Never could keep my old man happy, was always doing something wrong. He took the belt to me so often in third grade I barely could sit down the whole year.” His first time in third grade anyway, the one before he was whisked away to the safe haven of Wayne’s trailer.

“And…I have absolutely no idea why I told you that.” He barely talked about his dad to Tommy and Carol for crying out loud. On visitor’s days he always made up some lie about why he and Wayne were driving close to the state penitentiary.

Steve let out a weird little braying bark of a laugh and shuffled his feet. “Right, you didn’t come here to cry over our daddy issues. Gimme a sec to get your stuff.” Steve reached behind to grab the lunchbox he carried his goods around in. As he did, his jacket slid open enough to show the exposed line of his clavicle above the low-cut collar of his tee. Eddie swallowed hard. Against his will, his eyes dipped lower, noticing a design over the top of his pec in black ink. Oh, a new tattoo.

Eddie squinted trying to make out what it was. “It’s been a while since you gave O’Donnell a reason to lecture us on the ‘decaying morality of the modern day.’ Is that a two headed monkey?”

Delight flickered over Steve’s face. “This? Yeah, it’s new. Supposed to be Demogorgon, the ‘Prince of Demons.’” At Eddie’s blank look he chuckled. “He’s a monster from Dungeons and Dragons, you know, the fantasy game we play in Hellfire Club. It was the final battle of a months long campaign and our characters were trying to escape Demogorgon’s lair. Most of the party was close to death, but at a chokepoint, my character took a last stand and gave the others enough time to escape. Everyone else got out, even if the bastard got me in the end. So, I got this as a tribute to my character's sacrifice.”

Eddie spoke without thinking. “Oh, that’s kind of similar to what Gandalf did: facing off against the Balrog to save the rest of the Fellowship.”

Forget fleeting glimpses of real smiles. The look of surprise Steve gave him was almost comically out of place on his face. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings?”

“While ago, yeah. The Hobbit too.” Back when he first moved in with Wayne, the man had found an absolutely beautiful illustrated set at a rummage sale. Eddie smiled to himself, remembering how excited he’d been to get his first real present ever. “Spent a whole summer running around during the day, then staying up way too late reading all night. My uncle had to confiscate my flashlight eventually.”

A snort from Steve jolted Eddie out of his memories as he realized who he was talking to. “Don’t tell anyone that Harrington, or else,” he ordered as he flushed for the second time that evening, “The rest of your dorky club of nerds better not start bothering me in the hallway just because I’ve read Tolkien. Not going to step in to save them if they forget their place.”

Steve’s expression shuttered as he stood upright. “Right, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation with the rest of your jock buddies.” Eddie was taken aback by the bitterness in Steve’s voice. “They might explode if you admit to having interests beyond banging chicks, sports magazines, and beer. Your secret’s safe with me. After all, who’s going to believe the Freakshow? Here.” He shoved a baggie in Eddie’s face. “That should be enough for about a week. Now get lost before I double the price.”

Eddie opened his mouth to apologize. But the artificial sneer on Steve’s face made him lose his nerve. He just held out his money as he snatched away the weed. “Thanks, uh, have a good night Harrington. Help yourself to something from the kegs.” He almost made it to the edge of the trees before Steve’s voice called out to him: “Hey, Munson!” 

He froze and turned. Steve had clambered back onto Skull Rock, moonlight and shadows making him look otherworldly and malevolent, towering over the clearing. “Keep that attitude of yours in check next time, or else I might take my services somewhere else. But, if you need more help…unwinding, well. You know where to find me.” That knowing smirk was firmly fixed back in place on his face. 

Eddie couldn’t help it. He finally gave into his impulses and ran.

He didn’t think about those plush lips drawn back into a genuine smile as he quickly navigated back to the party. He didn’t think about those amused eyes seeing right through him as he knocked back a few cups of beer and danced a little with anyone and no one. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about that tattoo surrounded by chest hair as he staggered home to an empty trailer and collapsed into his bed.

“You look so good there, kneeling for me Eddie.” Steve looms over him, those ringed hands on his hips. Eddie realizes he’s naked in the clearing and flushes with embarrassment. When did he take off his clothes?

Any thoughts on how he ended up here are derailed when the wind caresses his body. Oh. Tendrils of air race over his exposed chest and glide over his heavy balls and dripping cock. 

“And look how much you’re enjoying it too.” He’s never been this turned on in his life, and it’s all because of Steve. All for Steve. He’s powerless to prevent a moan from falling out of his mouth. 

“You act so big at school, like you’re the top of the food chain yeah? A real king of the jungle. But you and me, we know better. You’re not a scary tiger at all are you. No, you’re just a cute little kitten.”

Eddie can’t help but whine as he spreads himself wider in invitation.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that.” Steve crooks a finger and gestures for Eddie to follow him. “Come on kitten.” Eddie begins to get up, his legs tingling with pins and needles.

“Mhm, no. I like you better down there. In fact, I think you should crawl.”

He shudders but obeys the sound of that voice, would do anything for it. He stays on all fours as the path unwinds before them, until they come to a door. Eddie moves as fast as he can to follow Steve through, tumbling into the void within. He flails, plummeting until a familiar wax-polished wood rushes up to meet his palms. Eddie doesn’t dare get up from his hands and knees as he lifts his head but-

The gym is filled to the brim. 

Their classmates sit silently, blank looks on their faces as they stare. They’re waiting for something to happen. White hot shame courses through his veins as he desperately tries to cover up.

The voice cuts smoothly through the haze of his embarrassment: “Look at them kitten, they’re all waiting for a show. Let’s give one to them.”

Steve nudges him onto his back. He grabs his wrists and pulls them away from his body, exposing Eddie to the crowd. No! His face is on fire as he tries to fight it, but he can’t seem to break free, his strength sapped away. Steve tightens his hold on his wrists.

“Settle down Eddie, let them see you. You love this.”

He knows Steve is right. He can’t hide how hard his aching cock is, slapping against his belly as he squirms. But he can’t help it, they’ll all know. Faint whispers drift down from the stands as the crowd watches him struggle.

“Please, don’t make me do this,” he begs, but the words get caught in his choked up throat.

“I think you’ve forgotten your place. Maybe you need a reminder that you can’t hide, not from me.”

Steve hauls him up and easily slings him over a shoulder. Eddie lays there limply, frozen and whimpering. He’s unceremoniously dumped on top of a teacher’s desk right at the center line.  Hands come up to squeeze at his nipples, hard. Just the way he does when he’s alone. His cock twitches and drools even more from the groping. 

Eddie blinks, and suddenly the bleachers are that much closer.

“Be happy kitten, all the attention is on you! Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Oh G-d. Every eye is fixed on him, the buzzing of interest growing louder.

“No, I don’t want this, I don’t want you!” He shouts as loud as he can but the words come out muted and garbled.

Steve barks out a cruel laugh. “God, you’re pathetic. But then you’ve always been so good at lying to yourself haven’t you? You were the one who kissed Tommy, not the other way around. But when he went in for more, you pushed him off and ran away.”

Through the blur of tears, he can just make out Tommy’s face in the crowd, wearing the same accusatory and hurt look he had two years ago.

Steve leans down to nibble at his ear. “And,” he whispers, his voice silky smooth. “Let’s not forget how in the back of your head you imagine me shoving you against a locker and making you take it. Or sometimes, I threaten you with my knife a little out in the woods, yeah?”

Without warning, Eddie is manhandled over Steve’s lap. “Good news, guess today’s your lucky day kitten. I’m going to make you take it until you admit to everyone what you really want.”

SMACK!

The first slap to his ass sounds loudly, echoing around the gym. Eddie nearly swallows his tongue trying to keep quiet. The spectators in the stands let out a gasp for him.

But Steve doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until Eddie feels like his ass is on fire.

He finds himself pleading for Steve to have mercy, slipping back into the accent he tries so hard to keep a lid on normally.

“Ha, there he is, finally. You can dress yourself up in a varsity jacket all you want, but we all know what you really are. Just a piece of trailer trash. You can’t run from this you dumb hick. Tell me what I want to hear.”

Eddie shakes his head. He can’t. “Fine, then take your punishment.”

Smack after smack rains down on his ass. The pain builds and builds, and the crowd gets louder and louder. But underneath the humiliation, he remains hard and grows even more desperate. Every slap sends him thrusting, his cock trapped between Steve’s muscular thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ha! And you jocks call me the freak. You’re the one humping my leg and yowling like you’re in heat. Pain turn you on kitten?”

That’s all it takes to push him over the edge. 

He cums to the sound of cheers.

Eddie woke with a jolt and a gasp, his whole body pulsing in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced. 

Trembling, he curled up into a ball and let the tears fall. This was nothing, just a passing thought his brain had gotten attached to. All he had to do was survive the year, and then he could be finally free of Hawkins, and the living ghosts that haunted him.

If only that had been the last time he dreamed of Steve Harrington.

Two weeks later, Eddie woke with a fuzzy head and even fuzzier memories of the night before, vaguely remembering a ringed hand stroking his hair. On his nightstand was a glass of water, some Tylenol, and a note from SH telling him to take it easy. 

After that his dreams changed. Sometimes he wasn’t humiliated at all, and those tattooed arms kept him safe and cared for. It felt worse almost, to have his subconscious offer up such happiness, only to snatch it away when he woke to an empty bed. He didn’t dare spend the night in the arms of a girl at her house, worried he’d reveal himself for the freak he was.

A full month of torment and countless hours of lost slumber later, Eddie finally had had enough. He grabbed his keys and tore off in the direction of Steve's house, praying that Carol wouldn't see his van in her neighbor's driveway at this time of night.

As he rang the doorbell, he didn’t know what to expect. But it certainly wasn’t the sight of a sleep rumpled Steve answering the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Somehow, seeing his bare hands felt more intimate than the lack of shirt did.

“Munson? Gave me a heart attack, thought my parents were back a day early. What are you—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted, wide-eyed and feeling slightly crazed. “Can we talk?”

Ao3 link

It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D

Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington

@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie

Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ghost House Report: A Requiem For You -Harrison Gray Epilogue

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. If you'd like to be added to my translations tag list, please comment below. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

Harrison: Prove it to me. Don’t leave me Kate.

Harrison: Right here, right now. Until I’m satisfied.

Harrison: ….Be prepared for tonight.

Kate: Mm…

True to his words, the taste of Harry’s scent immediately hits inside my mouth.

His tongue entangles with mine, sucking it, licking every inch inside of my mouth.

Wherever Harry touched, his fingertips, the inside of my mouth, they were all hot.

(…..My body’s sensations have returned.)

In response a hot tingle sparked from deep within me.

(I’m here. I want to…feel Harry more.)

Removing his tongue, he tightens our intertwined fingers.

Wanting to give Harry my aching heat, I wrapped my legs around him -

Harrison: …You trying to stir me up?

Harry released one of his hands and slid it up my leg.

Harrison: But now….I don’t think I can be kind to you.

Lifting up my legs, his fingertips mercilessly penetrate me, and tease my honey-soaked spot.

Kate: Ahhh…..

Harrison: …Yeah, that’s your reaction.

I want Harry to use his hand to unleash even more passion.

As I cling to Harry, both our body heat and breathing rise.

Kate: Ah…..Harry……

As I try to undo Harry’s pants with shaky fingers, his hand is placed on top of mine.

Harrison: What do you think you’re doing?*

My face flared with shame at his pointed remark.

Kate: ….That was mean….

I looked up an glared at him -

Harrison: Heh, that’s the face I wanted to see.

Kate: Mmm

With our lips completely consumed, and his hand still on top of mine, I slowly removed his pants.

I shivered as I felt Harry’s supple body sway.

As our breathes mix, my mind becomes hazy, but one sense remains sharp -

(Ah….Harry’s…..)

I felt Harry’s heat press against and penetrate me deeply.

Kate: —Nggh!

Harrison: …..You’re so warm inside.

Harrison: Feels good.**

His movements become increasingly stronger, melting me completely.

Kate: …..Nn, H-arry…….Aah, Haa.....

Harrison: …..Ngh, say my name more

Harrison: ….It’s not bad….hearing you call my name

Harrison: …Hey, Kate?

My moans became louder as I obeyed his sweet coercion.

Kate: Harry….HAAA….H-arry……

My core was so stirred by the excitement that I responded to Harry unconsciously.

Harrison: Haha…. you’re too honest with your feelings.

Harrison: That honesty….always saves me.

I keep calling Harry’s name provocatively, wondering how I look in his mint-colored eyes.

There was no time to think about my appearance with our bodies stacked on each other, we conveyed our thoughts with our gazes -

We were filled with passion together until we reached exhaustion.

Kate: …..Mmh.

Feeling something warm touch my forehead, I lift my heavy eyelids.

Harrison: Good, it’s you.

As the morning sun shines brightly on him, looks at me with relief.

Kate: ….Good morning.

The happiness of waking up to the smile of my beloved one warms my heart.

Harrison: Even so, you were being possessed by a ghost.

Harrison: You’re always getting into trouble.

Kate: I……I’m sorry.

(It’s true….Harry was there this time, so I was safe.)

There is no room for objecting, so I kept quiet.

Harrison: ……I don’t want to want to take care of a troublesome person like you.

Kate: Huh.

-My mind went blank.

His mint-colored eyes were as cool as ever.

(….I knew it.)

Kate: That’s a lie, isn’t it.

Kate: Harry….despite all of your complaints, you helped me in the end.

Kate: I know best that you’re a kind person

Kate: …I’ll try my best not to be too dependent on that kindness.

His eyes staring at me soften.

Harrison: ….Yeah, it was a lie.

Harrison: You always get into trouble, so I’m used to it.

Harrison: Helping you is something that I want to do.

Harrison: Just….promise me one thing

Harrison: ….Don’t leave me so easily.

His genuine voice engraves itself on my heart.

Holding my head tightly, he kisses my forehead again.

Kate: …Of course, that’s what I intend to do. I’m stubborn.

Kate: Even if you don’t like it Harry, we’re sticking together.

I hug Harry tightly, and bury myself in him, inhaling his minty scent.

Harrison: Yeah. Try your best not to be disliked by me.

Kate: …..You don’t have to tell me that.

Kate: Anyway, I know that your meanness is how you express your love, Harry.

Harrison: Huh, so does it make you happy when people are mean to you?

Kate: I didn’t say that.

Harrison: But you simply didn’t say it.

He grabbed my chin and locked his gaze with mine.

Kate: …..So crafty.

(Oh, even though you can see it clearly.)

Harrison: You’re the one who wants to stick to a crafty guy.

Kate: …..That’s right, Harry….I’m happy even if you’re mean to me.

Kate: Even when you act like that I feel as if you’re thinking about me, Harry.

(I said it.)

Rather than be embarrassed, I decided to express my feelings to Harry -

Harry’s face suddenly looks down.

Harrison: ….Yeah, it’s definitely you.

Harrison: That’s why I’m always thinking about you, Kate.

Harrison: Stick to me and let me be mean to you forever.

Kate: Ugh, of course you’ll keep being mean to me.

Harrison: Fuwaha…..in any case, there’s not point in leaving.

Kate: Mm……

Our lips come together as if sealing a promise -

My heart and body are filled with joy of being by Harry’s side.

*This line translates to, “What are you doing,” but the following line’s translation explains that Harrison is trying to make Kate to feel shame by his remark, so I chose to change this to “What do you think you’re doing?” to try and bring that out more.

**Technically, he just says good here, but his face screams “Feels good”, so I changed it to that.

[Master List]

Tag List: @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @sh0jun @letter-from-afar

Dividers: @/brokenbard

*Ahem* this was the first time I've ever translated Harrison smut....it was definitely interesting...ummm maybe...awkward(?) Other than translating is lines in other stories as a supporting role, this was my first Harry translation....I hope in time I can get a better grasp of his writer's style as I do more in the future. Anyway, it was a fun translation.

[double-vandammage]

Title: Unexpected

Word count: 2,404

Rating: 18+

Ship: Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels

Tags/Warnings: Shawn POV, Drinking, Fighting (mentioned), Blood and Injury, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Quickie, Hand Jobs, Making out

Also posted to my a03: aa_beatrix

This is what happened when they buried the hatchet right? Right? 🙀

Timeline is 2010.

My sister @taydaq and I decided to do an Art Trade and her only request was Shawn and Bret on a counter top. I decided to write older Hartbreak and this was the result! I hope both her and you guys like it. I certainly had fun typing this out. 😜 It's mostly Bret telling Shawn to STFU.

I used the prompt: "do right people with wrong timing get a second chance?" from nightprompts. I really liked it and was going to use it for another fic I have in the works, but it ended up here. 😏

Tysm for reading as always! 💕

Fuck, he was too old for this shit. Bar fights were a younger man’s game. He wasn’t twenty something anymore. Shawn had taken his fair share of beatings inside and outside of the ring, but he couldn’t afford to take risks these days. Two guys had gotten into a heated argument and in a millisecond the first fist was thrown. In Shawn’s infinite wisdom, he thought he could break it up. Now he was left rummaging around his kitchen trying to locate bandages, an ice pack, and quite possibly another beer. He opened one of the drawers and felt around, pushing various junk aside. “Oh for Christ sake.” he muttered. Unexpectedly his cell rang. “Yeah?” he answered without a glance at the screen to see who was calling.

“Did you forget?” the voice on the other end asked. Shawn stopped shuffling through the drawer, squinting at the nearby calendar. “What?” He hadn’t a clue what he was supposed to do tonight. It was likely the blow to his head earlier. “Dammit Shawn, I waited for your skinny ass.” he barked through the phone. “Oh shit. Was that today?” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re the one who asked to meet Shawn. Are you home? I’m outside.” Shawn looked toward his front door, “You are? Um, okay yeah. I’ll be right there.” He hung up, abandoning his search for the bandaids. He walked to the door, smoothing his disheveled clothes and hair. He had no idea the current state of his appearance, but it would have to do.

He opened the door where Bret stood at the bottom of the steps, clearly irritated. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked, pocketing his own phone. “Heh, you should see the other guy.” he laughed, trying to play it cool. He hadn’t seen or talked to Bret much in the last few years. He wanted more than anything to be on good terms again and this was his chance to maybe repair the damage. Bret still had that same swagger and ruggedly handsome face. His hair had begun to show silver, but he managed to keep it long. “Oh don’t give me that. What really happened Shawn?” he demanded. “Alright, alright why don’t you start by coming in.” Shawn stood to the side of the doorway, motioning for Bret to enter.

Shawn led Bret to the kitchen, “I was trying to find something to patch myself up with and a nice cold beverage. Do you want one?” he asked, opening the fridge. “Sure.” Bret said, taking the offered beer. Shawn popped the caps off their drinks before hopping up to sit on his counter. He took a long swig of his beer, “How have you been Hitman?”. Bret stared at him puzzled. “Aren’t you a little old to be doing that?” he pointed. Shawn scanned his surroundings, “Doing what?” knowing exactly what Bret was referring to and began kicking his legs back and forth. “Jesus.” Bret muttered before taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t you want to take care of your face first?” he asked. “I can’t find the damn first aid kit.” he groaned. Bret wandered out of the kitchen, “Where’s the bathroom you idiot?” Bret said, setting down his beer and already starting down the hallway. “First door on your left.” Shawn shouted.

After a few minutes, Bret came back toting his first aid kit. “Most people keep these in their bathroom.” he stated. Shawn rolled his eyes. Bret placed the kit beside Shawn, opening it up. He surveyed Shawn’s face, taking in every cut and scrape. “Whoever did this sure banged you up.” he observed. “So what really happened?” Bret began taking out various supplies. Shawn watched as Bret meticulously sorted out different ointments and materials. “Well, not much to tell. Two dumb guys got into it and I tried to break it up.” Shawn shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I kinda forgot my age.” he smirked. Bret didn’t meet his gaze, but chuckled as he ripped open a packet of gauze and q-tips.

He poured some disinfectant on a gauze piece and moved into the space between Shawn’s legs. Shawn shifted nervously at the sudden proximity. Bret started at Shawn’s eyebrow, wiping gently at the open wound. Shawn sucked in his breath at the slight sting. “Sorry.” Bret said before moving down to his cheek. Shawn tried his best not to make eye contact as he helped to clean him up. How long had it been since he experienced a friendly touch from The Hitman? Bret then dabbed cautiously at Shawn’s split lip. When did it get so hot in here? Something in his stomach fluttered. It was a feeling he hadn’t remembered until now.

Bret threw the gauze into the trash bin and picked up a q-tip. He coated the q-tip with some of the ointment he had procured and delicately spread it across the cut on his eyebrow. He then carefully positioned a small bandaid over the cut before moving on to do the same to his battered cheek. “Ouch.” Shawn winced. He was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. “It’s already beginning to bruise, you got a plastic bag?” Bret asked as he opened the freezer door, pulling out an ice tray. “Yeah, bottom drawer.” Shawn replied, gesturing with his chin in the direction of the drawer. Bret filled the plastic baggie with ice and tied the end off to secure it. Shawn extended a hand to take it, but Bret was already back in his space to lightly press the cool plastic to the skin of his cheek.

Shawn tensed, his eyes meeting Bret’s. He wanted to say something witty or maybe just an asinine joke, but he was drawing a blank. Bret always had such an intense stare, but tonight he could see something soften in his eyes. “Feel okay?” Bret asked. Did he feel okay? Hell no. His face throbbed like a son of a bitch and for some reason Bret Hart was situated between his thighs icing his boo-boos. What the fuck was Bret doing here again? Shawn took in a deep breath, “Um, yeah, yeah I feel fine.” he answered, taking hold of the ice pack. Bret placed his fingers beneath Shawn’s chin, tilting his face upward to take one last observation. “Yep, you’re gonna be fine Michaels.” he decided confidently. “Thanks Doctor Hart.” Shawn teased. “Shut the fuck up.” Bret countered, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.

For a minute they giggled like two kids, forgetting they barely tolerated each other. Bret composed himself first, his eyes falling to Shawn’s mouth. His hand was still under Shawn’s chin, his thumb tenderly caressing the split on his lower lip. Shawn felt his chest tighten and heartbeat quicken. The fluttering in his stomach returned with full force. There were times during their careers where Shawn felt similar knots in his heart toward Bret. These moments were triggered by a passing glance, a handshake, a hug after winning a tag match, and even during their most heated segments.

Shawn dropped the ice pack to the floor as he threw his arms around Bret, dragging him roughly into a kiss. The plastic bag unfurled, ice cubes scattering around the kitchen floor. Shawn’s lip stung as their mouths clashed together. Bret’s hands braced against the edge of the countertop in response to Shawn’s sudden advance. Shawn was entirely prepared for Bret to pull away and dismiss him altogether, instead Bret’s hands found their way to his waist and kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm. Shawn gasped as the slit on his bottom lip reopened, tasting beer mixed with the metallic flavor of his blood. “Sorry.” Bret mumbled against Shawn’s mouth.

Bret moved his hands down to grip Shawn’s thighs, tugging his body closer to ease him off the counter. Shawn held onto his shoulders as he slid off the countertop, pressing in closer to Bret. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this.” Shawn confessed as he tried to catch his breath between kisses. Bret pressed his forehead to Shawn’s, “Shit, me too. What the fuck?” he asked before meeting his lips again. Neither of them wanted to waste time and began to lower themselves to the kitchen floor. It wasn’t graceful by any means, Bret had a bad knee and Shawn’s back was basically shot. Bret fumbled backwards in order to catch Shawn before they both crashed onto the hard floor. Shawn struggled on top of Bret, straddling him to regain his composure. He leaned forward to bury his face in Bret’s chest, attempting to muffle the cackle threatening to escape.

Bret covered his own mouth as he tried his best not to completely lose it. “So the thing about our age…” he said. “Old fucks.” Shawn laughed into the fabric of Bret’s shirt. He rose up, to look at his long time rival. “I think I forgot why I called you here.” Bret’s hands returned to Shawn’s thighs, his thumbs lightly rubbing at his jeans. “You forgot, period.” he said, reminding him. Shawn really didn’t want to talk now that he had The Excellence of Execution under him, kissing him was much more ideal. He took a risk, kissing Bret’s forehead before running his lips down to the side of his neck. He felt Bret softly grip at his ponytail. Bret’s eyes closed, relaxing as Shawn sucked at the exposed skin of his throat.

How much time had they wasted being angry with each other when they could have been making out on a kitchen floor instead? Shawn moved back to Bret’s lips which parted slightly allowing his tongue to slip inside. He let his mind wander to when they were both at the height of their careers, Bret wearing his pink singlet and black tights. Tanned skin glistening with sweat after a match, the water in his hair drying and beginning to fluff wildly around his head. God damn he was sexy and at almost sixty years, he still was. He could feel his erection already straining his jeans, his hips grinding into Bret. Bret’s hands had roamed to cup at his ass, following the rhythm of Shawn rocking on top of him. Shawn grabbed at his hands, forcing them off him and pinning them above Bret’s head.

Bret didn’t seem to mind his taking control. In fact he appeared to welcome it, Bret’s own hard on trying to gain some friction against him. Shawn reached between them, undoing Bret’s belt and pants with practiced fingers. He wriggled his hand deftly inside, grasping Bret’s slick cock. Bret moaned into Shawn’s mouth at the touch. He kept one hand steady on Bret’s wrists, securing them above his head. “That’s it Hitman, that’s it.” Shawn coaxed, breaking apart from Bret’s lips. He stroked Bret briskly, low whines emitting from him. Shawn kissed Bret’s cheek before nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Bret tilted his head back, his hips rutting madly into Shawn’s palm. He lasted only a few seconds before he released a mangled cry as he came.

“Still so sensitive at this age, huh?” Shawn mewed, kissing Bret's ear and letting go of his wrists. Bret covered his flushed face with one hand, “Oh shut the fuck up Michaels.” he said, breaking into a smile. Shawn brought their mouths together again and Bret wrapped his arms around Shawn’s neck, deepening the kiss. Eventually they lost track of just how long they had spent rolling around on the floor playing tonsil tennis. Reluctantly they had managed to tear themselves away from each other and sat with their backs to the kitchen cupboards. Bret reached up to the counter and grabbed his now lukewarm beer, taking a long gulp. “I was not expecting that. Hell, I almost didn’t come.” he said. Shawn raised his eyebrows, “I beg to differ.” he snorted. “Once again, shut the fuck up Michaels.” Bret grinned.

They sat side by side, quietly finishing the rest of their beers. Shawn didn’t know where to begin. He wanted so badly to apologize for everything and anything, even stuff he wasn’t guilty of. “I’ve missed you.” he blurted instead. Bret set his now empty beer bottle down, glancing at Shawn. “Honestly…me too,” he admitted. Shawn felt his cheeks redden. He envisioned their reunion countless times, but he truly hadn’t anticipated Bret had missed him, not even a little bit. Shawn had always been reaching for Bret’s validation, but it always slipped through his fingers. “I never meant to push you away, but a part of me- a big part of me doesn’t regret a single thing. I also know in the last 12 years, a lot has changed. We’ve changed.” he said. Bret sighed heavily, nodding his head in agreement.

“We don’t need a lengthy drawn out conversation Bret. I know you want to bury the hatchet as much as I do.” Shawn said. He extended a hand out to Bret, waiting for a handshake. “Are you ready?” he asked. Bret appeared hesitant, but only for a second before joining their hands together. “Okay Shawn…okay.” Bret said. “Consider this matter closed, no takesies backsies.” Shawn said gleefully, dropping Bret’s hand. “You can’t be serious for a fucking minute can you?” Bret sneered, leaning over to shove his shoulder into Shawn’s. They remained seated on the kitchen floor cracking up all over again. “Stay in touch will ya?” Shawn said, tapping Bret’s shoe with his own. “I will.” Bret said.

They were both silent as Shawn walked Bret to the front door. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, but knew he had to go. This was possibly the beginning of something new. It was also entirely likely they wouldn’t see each other again after tonight, maybe a call here and there. It happened all the time. Shawn opened the door, the cool air wafting inside. “Thanks again…for this…” he said, motioning to his face. “Yeah, no problem.” Bret said, bringing his hand up to faintly run his thumb along the cut on Shawn’s bottom lip again. “Take care of yourself.” Bret turned to go, hastily stepping out into the night. Shawn watched as Bret took off, that pesky pull in his chest emerging once more.

He closed the door gently and wondered if the right people with the wrong timing got a second chance.

[thebest-medicine]

64 with ler Fjord & either Caleb or Molly? 🥺 dealers choice, but as soon as I saw that one I immediately thought of Fjord being a bully

Prompt 64 - “Relax, I’m not gonna kill ya, I’m just gonna make you wish you were dead.”

A/N: i love this for fjord. OMG. also, so… there’s this 6k ler!fjord lee!molly slightly fjolly decently mean interrogation fic im working on for tickletober and this line fit into it reaaaally well for a part where molly is in the stocks and… well… consider this my fic preview hehe (I’ll tag it here eventually when it’s posted in oct.)

,,,

“EheheHEHEHEHEEHEE- YOHOHOU’RE KILLIN’ MEEHEHEHEHE!” Molly whines through frantic laughter.

“Oh relax, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not gonna kill you.” Fjord speaks calmly, as though soothing a child. “I’m just gonna make you really, really wish you were dead.” His voice is sweet as the words drip out like honey, and Molly shivers from more than just the tickling sensations lighting up his soles.

“PFFFAHHAAHFUCK!” Molly cries — both in the sense of crying out aloud during his cackling, and in the other—more literal—sense, as tears bleed into the cloth tied over his eyes. He clasps and unclasps his fingers. He presses deeply into the seat and strains uselessly against the stocks — all for nothing. His laughter rings out boisterously as Fjord continues to scrub the brush up and down his foot, then switch to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. Overwhelming, but never enough to get desensitized to in any one place.

“PLEHEEHHEEASE!” Molly shrieks.

“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Fjord snickers, looking up from his feet to take in Mollymauk’s squirming, desperate form.

“Don’t knohohohHOOW! I dohOHON’T know wHERE—” Molly babbles incoherently, still trying to bargain with his captor.

“You don’t know where your attitude went?” Fjord laughs, pulling the brush away from his soles for the first time in far, far too long.

Molly heaves in deep, shaky breaths. “I- heh- I… What?”

Fjord hums, sounding amused. They sit in the ‘silence’ of Molly deliriously catching his breath.

“Maybe I should believe you…” Fjord says after a little time passes and Molly sounds less frenetic.

Molly tries to give his best hopeful, honest smile. It’s hard without the eyes.

Molly picks up the sound of Fjord getting up from his seat, a little relief washes over him.

Then the brush is back, and Mollymauk is wailing out a surprised bark of laughter. “WAITHAHAHA— WAIT!”

“But, on the other hand..” Fjord sighs, bringing his other hand to tickle along the sole of Molly’s right foot as he brushes up and down his left. Mollymauk almost wishes for a gag with how loudly he shouts and shrieks through desperate laughter. The hand and brush switch. They switch back a little while later.

“Hmm.” Fjord says, stopping again after a few minutes. “What do you think?”

“I thihihink I am going to die here.” Molly whimpers, smiling defeatedly.

“Not if you tell me the truth.”

“I am telling yohohohou the truth.”

“Well, I have to make sure you’re not lying.” Fjord says, and then the terrible brushing starts up again.

“Whyhyhyhyhy would I still behehehe lying- hehee?! Plehehehehease!” Molly argues as much as he can get out as he’s laughing.

“You tell me.” Fjord replies, not letting up. “Maybe you’re just a masochist.”

Molly definitely does not hate being on the receiving end of an evening like this, it’s true. He would take a moment to consider that if he had a brain cell that could focus on anything other than the incessant scrubbing of the hairbrush along his soles. It scrapes across the balls, the arches, the heel, up and down, up and down, over and over. The slick oily liquid covering his feet lets it glide with almost no resistance. All tickles, no resistance — yeah, Molly is probably going to die here.

He’s wheezing by the time Fjord stops again. He hesitates, half-pleading through his laughter, wondering when it’s going to start up again.

It doesn’t… And Fjord doesn’t say anything.

It still doesn’t… And then, finally, Fjord’s pulling down the blindfold. “Hey, there.”

Molly’s eyes adjust weakly to the light, the blindfold is damp with his tears. He mutters some kind of reply before closing his eyes again. “Fjord…”

“Mollymauk.” Fjord says, leaving the blindfold down around his neck and standing back up.

…

[UPDATE: read the full thing here!]

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read further CR drabbles on ao3]

[1driedpersimmon]

More Sesame doodles!! Also. Can you guys tell when .. *that* happened.. yeah

[amberstormblade]

Yes it's 3:30am but we can ignore that because I just finished writing a fanfic about a fanfic. Is that weird? Maybe? No clue! Anyways! This is inspired by @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands 's Black Sheep, Come Home and everyone should go read that because it's amazing and makes me feral!

I might put this on AO3 too but for now it's just here!

i'm so sleepy, g'night folks! happy reading!

(Sorry for tagging you guys, I can undo that if you want)

The world seemed to shake as the dragon’s dying cries echoed through dimensions. A bolt of adrenaline shot through Rex as he realized what was about to happen. They had been inside the starter base as a sort of preparation as they hadn’t known when they would be visible again and didn’t want to risk instantly burning if previous experience was anything to go by. They’re a little nervous, it took a bit to adjust to everyone actually seeing them last time and even if they’ve been able to correct Legundo on where to look, it’s still something to get used to. 

Rex walked towards the center of the room. They took a deep breath and started looking at where their hands should be to try and see if anything had happened yet. Something had changed just, not how they had expected. It was like there was a crack in reality. A small, bright, jagged thing that was just floating there. They went to touch it but it moved with their hand, as if it was attached. Before they could even begin to comprehend what was going on, more cracks began to appear, spider-webbing their way up their arm.

“Okay… this- this is weird, yeah. It’s uh, it’s gonna be okay though. Because once it’s done, I’ll be visible again! So I guess I just… trust the process?” Rex was glad Legundo was in a separate dimension, that way he couldn’t hear their voice shaking. 

The cracks started to get brighter as they reached their neck. They started to burn. Rex’s breathing started to speed up as they felt like they were running a marathon in the desert. They could feel their throat as it seemed to close in on itself, could feel as their knees shook and gave way. They remember what Legs had said, that first time they had died. 

“Inevitable, heh.” The sudden raspiness of their voice catches them off-guard. Coughing does nothing to clear their throat. “Guess the timing was off? Inevitable, all the same.” The cracks have reached their chest now, seeming to gather around where their heart should be and spread out like veins. Rex struggles to stand back up, not really knowing where they would go, not really knowing what to do. They take one step towards the bed, two, they collapse again as the cracks reach their knees. It’s like their legs have been bound and any attempt to move them just causes more pain.

The burning is more intense now, not in the way of lava or fire, but in the way ice burns your hands from holding it too long. The cracks were draining any warmth that their body had held and it was like they were freezing over, at risk of shattering.

With a great deal of effort, they curl into a ball and just hug themself. Rex was glad Legundo was still in the End. Sure, it’d be nice to not be alone but they also don’t want him to see them like this. They wonder for a second if he’ll have a second funeral for them, mourn them a second time, but quickly dismiss the thought. They were lucky to get anything at all the first time, why would he bother to do the same thing twice? Maybe he won’t even realize they’ve died. Knowing how paranoid he is, Rex wouldn’t be surprised if he thought it was all part of some plan to get him. They might of laughed at the thought if it hadn’t been for the feeling that something was trying to crush them to death. The cracks writhing around their form seemed to be connecting, tightening to the point that they could no longer feel their limbs. They could still feel the tears falling down their face at least. Even if they had been able to move, they probably would have let them fall anyway. Not like anyone could see them. Quiet sobs slipped past their lips, as the burning cold sank in and the cracks grew brighter still. A part of them made a selfish wish. If this truly was the end, they didn’t want to be alone.

Maybe the Universe was kind, because a dull thud came from behind them. They would have recognized the sound anywhere. It was someone respawning at their bed or in this case, returning from the End. 

It was Legundo coming home.

“Rex, I’m back! You would not believe how-” His rather cheerful call was quickly cut off and they could feel as he rushed over to them. Quickly kneeling in front of them, Legundo reached out as if to touch them but hesitated at the last second. “Rex? What’s going on?” The worry in his tone was touching, in a way.

Rex tried to speak. Nothing came out at first, just a hoarse, rasping noise. Clearing their throat, they tried again. “...Don’t know. Started… after dragon. Hurts.” Broken sentences are all that can be managed but they get the point across. “Dying maybe… you alone?” They take a deep breath before, “sorry.” There was so much more they wanted to say, but their throat seemed to seal over again, leaving them wheezing for air.

“Hey- hey! It’s gonna be alright! I uh…” He trails off, digging through his things. Legundo pulls out a healing potion, probably one he had gotten from the End, and uncorks it. His hand hovers over Rex again. “I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I can see where your face should be pretty well so I think I can help you drink this. Just, bear with me, okay?” He lays his hand on Rex, flinching back for a second as though he had been shocked. Shaking out his hand, he puts their head on his lap. He cups their jaw oh so gently, as if afraid he might break them. Using his thumb, he traces their lips, carefully parting them. Lifting the bottle, he pours a small amount in their mouth and waits. It’s a struggle, but they swallow it. The sweet taste of watermelon lingers on their tongue as they breathe a little easier. Another mouthful has Rex sucking in their first proper breath since this began.

“...hey, ‘Gundo I- I don’t know how long I have. This didn’t happen last time. I think… I think I might be-”

“Don’t.” He cuts them off. His hand that had slipped from their jaw to their shoulder tightened slightly. “You’re not dying. You said you were going to protect me? You can’t do that if you’re not here. So- So no. You’re not leaving me alone again Rex so you’re going to get better! Okay?” His voice is thick with tears as he pulls them into a deep, bone-crushing hug. Instead of feelling restrictive, however, it felt freeing. It felt like home. A promise between two lonely people that they weren’t going to be alone again, not if they could do anything about it.

Straining to move their arms against the numbness that had overtaken them, Rex returned the hug. The cracks covering their form seemed to reach a crescendo as they flared brighter than the sun. The two just held tighter to each other as Rex cried out in pain. A sort of crackling sound could be heard for a seconds and then, just as suddenly as it all had started, the light and noise stopped.

Rex could still feel Legundo’s arms around them but couldn’t bring themself to open their eyes until, “Oh, you’re colorful.” They were still close enough that the whispered statement seemed to tickle his ear as Legundo leaned back from him slightly.

Painstakingly slowly, Rex opened their eyes. They looked down to see their familiar blue and yellow jacket. They looked up to see Legundo looking directly at them. Their face faintly reflected in his glasses. “Yeah,” They breathed, afraid that speaking too loudly would ruin the moment somehow, make everything suddenly revert. But no. 

There were no disappearing acts that would be happening today. In the next few days they would probably fall back into their familiar routines of secrets and cryptic actions. They would have tense moments and heated exchanges. But, they would also remember this moment. They would share a look followed by a fond smile. They would both find excuses to exist closer to each other, soaking in the contact that they craved but didn’t dare ask for. They would allow themselves a second of vulnerability, because that’s what helped them sleep at night. Someone always by their side to keep the nightmares at bay.

Moments like these aren’t easily forgotten. They both rest easy that night, knowing no matter what, they’ll always remember what it feels like when someone cares.

[landondeeznuts]

𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

Pairing: Cole Brookstone x Gender Neutral MC

Rating: PG

Summary: Gender Neutral Reader who so happens to be Kai and Nya's (I guess Lloyd's too) Cousin, meets Cole while shopping. Cole is also a little shy in this story

(Posted over on Ao3 first)

Y/n was happily flipping through vinyl records in the store, drawn into the soft rock section. Amid the nostalgic tunes, a tall guy with tousled black hair caught their eye. His headphones created a zone, shutting out the world as he searched for the perfect track. Unbeknownst to Y/n, the record they were after was right in front of this stranger.

Summoning some courage, they tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I help you?" he asked kindly. Y/n felt a slight flush. "I don't suppose I can squeeze in there to get that," they gestured to the record they had their eye on. "Oh, sorry, yeah, of course," he replied, making space for them. As Y/n reached for the record, they couldn't help but notice Cole's handsome face, somewhat obscured by a plain black hoodie and inconspicuous sweats. Yet, the attire couldn't hide the undoubtedly muscular arms beneath. A warm familiarity lingered in the air, tugging at the edges of Y/n's consciousness.

Tilting their head, Y/n couldn't resist asking, "Do I know you? You look oddly familiar." Cole, caught off guard, responded with a nervous chuckle, "Me? Uh, I don't think so." His gaze momentarily wandered, glancing over Y/n's shoulder before refocusing. Suddenly, it clicked for Y/n—the amber eyes, the thick curly black hair, the strong jawline—all reminiscent of the elemental master of earth, Cole, that they had vividly heard about.

"Is your name Cole?" Y/n asked, excitement and realization evident in their voice. He froze, eyes widening with surprise and curiosity. "Uh... you... how do you know me?" Y/n chuckled, feeling a connection through Kai's shared stories. "Kai," they revealed with a grin. "Kai?" Cole's astonishment was palpable. "Yeah, he's my cousin."

"Kai mentioned me?" Cole inquired, still processing the unexpected encounter. "He's mentioned all of you," Y/n reassured him with a smile. His response was a sincere "Wow... that's... wow," as he shifted, still processing the revelation. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Cole." “Y/n,” they replied, returning the warmth with a smile. “That’s a really nice name,” Cole complimented, a genuine smile playing on his lips. Y/n found themselves basking in the easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken understanding growing between them.

Gesturing towards the record, Cole asked, “You wanted that one, right?” Y/n nodded, their shared interest bridging the gap between strangers. “Here, I’ll just—” Before Y/n could respond, Cole gracefully moved behind them, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through Y/n. He leaned over their shoulder to retrieve the record, and Y/n couldn't help but blush at the unexpected closeness. “Kai failed to mention you're a gentleman,” Y/n teased, playfully acknowledging the subtle gesture.

“Oh, you… uh…” Cole stammered, suddenly self-aware. Straightening up, he handed the record to Y/n with a charming smile. “And cute,” Y/n added, causing Cole's blush to intensify. “Uh…. heh…” Y/n hid a chuckle behind their hand. “Real cute.” Cole's gaze met theirs, a genuine smile forming on his face. “I… um… you’re cute, too…” His admission was met with a reciprocal blush from Y/n, the air thickening with unspoken chemistry.

“Why thank you,” Y/n beamed, the exchange creating a delightful rapport. “Of course,” Cole replied, a subtle grin playing on his lips. Emboldened by the shared moment, Y/n couldn't resist a playful tease. “Hey… uh… um…” Cole looked at the price tag and then back at them. “Are you busy this evening?” Y/n, contemplating the answer with a playful demeanor, looked up. “Schedules free.” Cole's surprise was evident. “Oh? Well… um… would you like to… I dunno… do something together?”

The air crackled with anticipation as Y/n hummed, leaning in a bit. "Like?" they inquired, inviting Cole to share his thoughts. Cole, momentarily flustered, cleared his throat and looked down. "Well, there's a coffee shop that's open late near here, and I thought we could get coffee there." Y/n's smile widened. "Coffee sounds nice." Cole visibly relaxed. "Great! Uh, should we meet there at, I don't know, seven? Or do you have other plans?" After a moment, he spoke again. "It might be a little late... how about we make it six?"

"Six sounds great," Y/n sighed contentedly, their heart fluttering with excitement. "Okay, great. Um... the coffee shop's called 'The Rusty Cup,' it's on North Street, right next to that park. See you then?" Cole's smile held a hint of anticipation. "See you then," Y/n reciprocated with a smile. He nodded once. "Okay, see you then... y/n." The name rolled off his tongue with a warmth that lingered, leaving Y/n's heart racing in the most delightful and fluffy way.

______________________________________________________________

Time passed, and Y/n found themselves outside 'The Rusty Cup.' The soft glow of the coffee shop's warm lights spilled onto the sidewalk, creating an inviting ambiance. A cool evening breeze played with the edges of Y/n's hair as they waited, their heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

Just as they were about to enter, the door swung open, and there stood Cole, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "Hey," he greeted warmly, his amber eyes sparkling. Y/n returned the smile, feeling an inexplicable sense of ease in his presence. "Hi, Cole. Ready for that coffee?" they asked with a playful glint in their eye.

"Absolutely," he replied, holding the door open for them. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them as they stepped inside. Finding a cozy corner, they settled into a pair of overstuffed chairs, the soft hum of conversation and the gentle whirr of the espresso machine creating a comforting backdrop.

As they sipped their coffee and exchanged stories, Y/n couldn't help but marvel at the effortless connection they were building. Cole, usually reserved, gradually opened up about his passion for music, sharing anecdotes about his adventures as the elemental master of earth. Y/n, in turn, revealed their own interests and dreams, creating a mosaic of shared experiences.

Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, and before they knew it, the coffee shop's closing hour approached. Reluctantly, they gathered their things, the night having woven an invisible thread between them. Standing outside, Y/n felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected encounter and the easy camaraderie that had blossomed.

"Well, this was unexpectedly wonderful," Cole remarked, a soft smile playing on his lips. Y/n nodded in agreement, a warmth settling in their chest. "Definitely. We should do it again sometime," they suggested, the prospect of future meetings already brightening their thoughts.

Cole's eyes crinkled with a smile. "I'd like that. 

______________________________________________________________

The next day, Y/n found themselves happily lost in a tune when a bright idea crossed their mind. Why not share the exciting news with Kai, who unintentionally played a role in their unexpected encounter with Cole? Pulling out their phone, Y/n began crafting a message to Kai.

Y/n: Hey Kai! Guess who I bumped into at the record store yesterday? Your partner in crime, Cole! 😊

Kai's response was swift, embodying his usual quick-witted charm.

Kai: Oh, Cole! Stirring up trouble, I hope.

Y/n chuckled at the familiar banter, fully aware of Kai's penchant for teasing.

Y/n: Surprisingly, no trouble at all. Just helping me grab a record. He's a total gentleman.

Kai: A gentleman, huh? That's a new one. Did he pull out a chair for you at the coffee shop?

Y/n couldn't help but grin, picturing Kai's mischievous expression.

Y/n: You got it! How did you guess?

Kai: Lucky hunch. So, spill the beans. Why are you updating me? Should I be on high alert?

Y/n: No need to worry, just wanted to let you know your buddy's got some impressive manners. We got coffee, chatted about music, you know, the usual.

Kai: Coffee? Music? Sounds like a date. Should I be shopping for a wedding gift?

Y/n burst into laughter, imagining Kai preparing for a non-existent wedding.

Y/n: Hold your horses, matchmaker. It was just coffee. But hey, Cole did mention he's into music. Think he's hiding a secret playlist?

Kai: Oh, more than a playlist. Thinks he's the DJ of our ninja team. But don't be fooled; he's got a soft spot for cheesy love songs.

Y/n grinned, picturing Cole secretly vibing to love ballads. Kai's protective humor didn't go unnoticed.

Y/n: DJ Cole and his love for cheesy tunes noted. Thanks for the heads up, Kai. 😄

Kai: Anytime, cuz. Keep me posted on your coffee escapades. And remember, I've got my eye on that dunderhead.

Y/n chuckled, appreciating Kai's playful concern.

Y/n: Will do, Kai. You've got a front-row seat to this budding friendship.

As Y/n tucked their phone away, a warm feeling settled in their chest. Kai's teasing, sprinkled with a protective touch, hinted at a genuine care for family. The fluffy banter served as a comforting reminder of the support surrounding this newfound connection with Cole.

[kadextra]

so on a whim I started reading omniscient reader’s viewpoint manhwa

..and got hooked on the story so hard that I easily blasted through all available eps in less than a week. istg they put dr*gs in this thing it’s so good???? 😭

[SPOILER WARNING! big ramble ahead. if you’ve never read it, leave this post. consider checking it out you won’t be able to put it down]

lets get this out of the way first.

RAHHHHHH KIM DOKJA….. KIM DOKJA I LOVE YOU

GUYSSSSS 🥺 LISTEN. HE’S SUCH A GOOD PROTAGONIST. MY TRAUMA BOY. MY DUDE WITH THE POWER TO INFODUMP PEOPLE TO DEATH. YOU SELF-SACRIFICING IDIOT. his cunning intelligence makes him super attractive what can I say, I LOVE smart mcs with ambiguous morality and self sacrificial nature

here’s a big ✨shut your mouth✨ to every character who’s said he’s ugly- get your eyes checked, get a job get away from him (I know it’s because of the fourth wall’s filter it’s not their fault I’m just being silly)

the fourth wall is such a cool power to have. the complexity of how it acts based on his perception of fiction vs reality as the reader …. that’s very interesting and well thought out!!! how it lowkey has a consciousness too and it’s so tied into his mental state makes me want to psychoanalyze this guy even more. probably one of the most unique powers I’ve seen created and explored in a story tbh

I think the entire system of how the world works is really well done in general. constellations watching the apocalyptic bloodbath via livestream and sending donos to their favorite little guys shouldn’t work as well as it does and cracks me up so much 😭 (uriel is the best). I enjoy learning about all the irl different fables, history & mythologies too. plus doing my own research is fun! I did a deep dive through the web to learn about dokkaebi folklore lol I’m having a good time

I also related hard to how dokja read TWSA throughout his life, the story was a companion for him. got choked up bc I reflected on how much my own favorite companion stories for years mean to me. there’s been situations I’ve thought “what would (character) do?” dokja saying stuff like “what would joonghyuk do?” felt like I got called out <3 I’d probably be the same as him if my favorite characters suddenly came to life

anyways yeah I caught up with the manhwa looked online and discovered it comes from an already completed novel with over 500 chapters and the manhwa is barely a third into adapting it though it’s been releasing every week for 4 years. and that it’ll take like 10 more years to finish. I then planted my face in my hands and screamed with despair

I’ll shrivel up waiting to see what happens……………heyyy woahhhh.. whats this light of salvation ? the novel file just completed download on my phone ? that’s crazyy wow I opened it ? im scrolling it right now ? omg I’m telling myself in the mirror “pace yourself, try to space your reading out do NOT read too fast” ?

jokes aside im excited, first I’ll take some time to read back through the earlier chapters for extra context of scenes! >:D after I finish doing that…. pls pray for my self-control to try stretching this for as long as possible. I’m pumped to see what happens next with this demon king part so maybe I’ll read along with the manhwa unless I get too impatient heh

to conclude- I had no idea the fandom of orv was so passionate. while closing my eyes to spoilers, I was looking at beautiful fanart and animatics (watched this one and ascended that’s one of my fav rin songs). I can tell how much you guys love the story, there’s always going to be people like me who get interested so keep it up :D if the fandom does end up reading this, ummm *knocks on the door* hi im new

I will likely talk about it more in the future!! tagging under “#kade reads orv” ! might draw fanart on my art blog too bc brainworms <3 happy reading everyone

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

As it was

✧.* Pair: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader;

✧.* Plot: Leon and the reader are meeting after the events of RE4 to catch up. They meet at a bar to eat and talk;

✧.* Tags: fluff.

✧.* Ko-fi || Patreon ✧.*

"Oh my God, how much he changed..." You thought so when you saw him. The moment he noticed you, his face brightened and his frown disappeared completely. His lips curved into a big, beautiful smile as he approached you.

Even if he was happy at that moment, you still couldn't find the rookie you met all those years ago. He was a completely different person, one haunted by the outbreak and all the difficulties he had to endure, but who could blame him for this change? Still, there was a tiny bit of that rookie inside of him that gave him his boyish charm.

"Long time, no see, stranger." He said this as he hugged you tight.

You and Claire had a special place in his heart because all three of you went through the same hell together.

"It's hard to reach you nowadays, Leon."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had tons of classified shit to do."

You hugged again, and this time it lasted a few seconds longer.

"I wish I could tell you." He said as he caressed your back, "but I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you."

You both laughed at his cheesy joke.

"You grew up, Leon." you said as you withdrew, arms sliding along his shoulders, "You're a big government agent now."

"It's not as exciting as people think it is." His smile faded for a second, but it came back. "Should we go inside?" He asked, pointing towards the bar's door.

"Yeah, sure"

His eyes had a trace of nostalgia in them as he watched you. You didn't know, but you changed too.

Being the gentleman he is, he opened the door and held it for you. Then you found a table in the corner and sat down, looking over the menu.

You still couldn't believe how much this man had changed. Your gaze kept shifting from the menu to Leon until a waiter arrived.

"Can I take your order?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll have a cheeseburger with fries, and you?"

His voice changed too. It was deeper, and he sounded more confident in himself.

"I'll take the same."

A small pause followed until Leon spoke again.

"So, what have you been up to?" He asked, playing with a toothpick but without taking his eyes off you.

"I got myself a job in the BSAA. Surviving Racoon City opened some doors to me."

"BSAA? That sounds amazing." He seemed proud of you. "So you get to work with the legendary Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine?"

"Not yet, but I hope I will soon. But until then, I hope I'll get to work with the legend in front of me."

Leon burst into laughter.

"You are adorable."

Everything went smoothly that night. The food was great, you both were in a good mood, and Leon even offered to take you on a motorcycle ride.

Before driving in the city, you stayed outside and talked for a bit. The night came, and it was a bit cold outside, but Leon was nice and gave you his jacket. He was resting his back on the bar’s wall with his hands in his pockets, and you stayed the same but with your arms crossed. You both faced the road.

"Do you have any plans next weekend?" Leon asked, fidgeting in place.

"Are you asking me on a second date, Leon S. Kennedy?"

"Yeah, I mean, you asked me first, and I thought it was my turn." A shy smile appeared on his face.

"I didn't realize we were keeping score."

"Heh, well, it's not just about that. I enjoy your company, that's all." He spoke quickly.

"I can say the same."

Leon looked around nervously, not knowing what to say next. You looked so cute wearing his jacket, and he just wanted to hug you and held you to his chest all night. He missed you too, a lot, and wanted to contact you many times, but his job kept him very busy.

"Listen I-" he started "I just missed you, that’s all."

Here it was the rookie you remember: shy, sweet, and very awkward when it came to expressing his feelings.

"It’s ok" You firmly grabbed his shoulder. "I missed you too, and now I know where you work, so next time you ignore my calls, I will simply show up in your office."

He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah it’s just that, after Racoon City, everything changed-"

He lowered his eyes, and his tone became feeble.

"And maybe we should talk about that some other time." You suggested it, seeing that his mood was changing. "We met today to have a good time and enjoy ourselves, remember?"

"Yeah, you’re right." He said this, turning his head to look at you.

"I’ve seen how you look at me, tho." He continued.

"How?"

"Like I’m different. You’ve been staring at me all night, and I don’t think it’s because of my good looks."

"Well, it can be that too. You’re a handsome man, it’s impossible to look away."

He giggled.

"C’mon, be serious."

"Ok fine. Well, to tell the truth, I really think you changed. You are more…gloomy, serious…"

He sighed.

"We changed too."

"But…" you began to wave your hand in circles around his face, "there is still some of that rookie inside you."

"And how’s that rookie to you?"

"He’s sweet, kind, and has a great sense of humor."

Leon smiled and nodded.

"I think you’re the only one who sees that part in me."

"Well, it’s been a long time since I saw you."

Another pause followed.

"You changed too, you know?" Leon said.

There was something in the way he was looking at you. Even at the bar, his eye followed your every move, as if he were trying to find someone. There was a bit of…sadness in them, maybe when he realized that you weren’t the same either. But he was happy the whole night. He told a lot of jokes, laughed, and disclosed some sensitive information that would get him fired if another agent heard him.

"How so?" You asked, knowing that he would address this subject eventually. Still, you were curious.

"You are more…I don’t know, sad, absent."

Leon waited patiently for you to answer, his gaze not leaving your body.

"We can’t just ignore what happened, we have to move forward with our lives. I guess that sometimes my mind wanders back to that night, to all the people we lost…including ourselves."

You both sighed.

"It’s funny, tho, how our minds end up being our number one enemy. The path we chose is a dangerous one for sure, but it makes me glad to have people like you next to me." You looked up and saw him taking a deep breath and resting his head on the wall. Maybe it was too dark, but you swore you saw him blushing a bit. Was he holding in a smirk?

"Yeah, I’m glad I have you by my side too." He rubbed your shoulder as he turned his face to look at you again. "It’s just, it never ends, you know."

"It has to." You came closer to rest your head on his shoulder, and his arm slid along your back to grab your waist from the other side, holding you with a firm grip.

Feeling that things might go in a weird direction, you spoke.

"I don’t know about you, but this talk kind of saddens me."

"Yeah, same. Sorry about that, it’s kind of my fault."

Oh, don’t be," You pulled away from his embrace, and tapped on his shoulder as a reassuring gesture. "Talking about your feelings it’s a good thing."

"You’re right." He smiled again. Oh, how you missed that smile, even if it was gone for just a few minutes.

Leon turned his head to face the motorcycle that was parked in front of the bar.

"Hey, I promised you a motorcycle ride, didn’t I?" He turned his head to look at you.

Yeah, you did, Leon. Do you intend to keep your promise?"

C'mon, sharp tongue." He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

You both disappeared into the night at high speed, and you held tight to him as he drove past cars.

The ride made you feel good, it made you feel free of your worries. The wind blew through your hair, and the cars became nothing more than bright dots and lines. You lost track of your surroundings. You didn’t know where Leon was taking you, but you trusted him and held onto him tight the entire time. He gave you a feeling of safety. Perhaps his body was not the only thing you were holding tight to.

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