#((this is 900+ words))

[thefreakandthehair]

unplug it (please)

written for ‘plug’ | wc: 437 | rated: m | tags: hospital setting, post-canon fix-it, mutual pining, love confession, requited feelings, fluff, humor, confident steve harrington, eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington (and the machines he’s hooked up to blow his secret) @steddiemicrofic

When Eddie woke up a week after becoming demobat bait, he thought the worst was behind him.

He thought wrong.

It was easy enough early in his recovery to pass his rapid pulse off as a reaction to, well, everything, but that excuse didn't work anymore. At least not on Steve, who happens to be the reason for his humiliating problem.

Like clockwork, Steve entered Eddie’s room with a warm smile.

“Back already?” Eddie asked.

“Not getting rid of me that easy,” Steve teased and plopped down into the hard chair with nothing but a skinny blue cushion for comfort.

I could do better than that chair, he thought. I’d give Steve a great place to sit.

Bee-beep. Bee-bee-beep. Beep.

If he was able to bend down, he’d unplug the fucking machine. It’s embarrassing.

“Your heart’s still doing that? I told Laura!”

Laura’s the worst, but Eddie can’t jeopardize someone else's job just because he’s a coward. Maybe that’s why he said what he said next.

“It's because of you,” he muttered, realizing belatedly how that sounded when he saw Steve’s smile fall.

“Not like that! Fuck. Steve, I’m a weak man and you’re… you. You threatened to have your mom pull her funding from the hospital if they didn’t really try to save me. You carried me out of Mordor! How was I supposed to not fall in love with you after that? I hate that monitor, blowing all of my secrets.”

Eddie’s confession hung heavy in the silence, broken only by the erratic beeping of the monitor, as Steve sat forward with his elbows on his knees. He cleared his throat, and scratched the tip of his nose.

“Did I hear that right?”

“Yep.” Eddie could lie. He could walk it all back, but he didn’t want to be a runner anymore.

“Great, so do you wanna wait until you get out of here for a first date, or should I bring the first date to you?” Steve muses. “I think Laura might give me shit for trying to light a candle in here with the sprinklers.”

“Are you serious?”

“You think you’re the only weak man in this room? You bled through my jacket and I had to wash your blood off my shoulders.” Steve shrugged, one corner of lips just barely upturned. “I almost lost you. I’m not taking that chance again.”

“When you put it like that, I don’t wanna wait.”

“Good."

Eddie’s heart monitor skipped beats, racing as Steve leaned closer, his lips just barely touching his cheek in a soft, innocent kiss.

"Get ready to be wined and dined, Munson.”

[luffington]

meanie ♡

➤ summary: Zoro tests out a remote-controlled vibrator on you in the middle of town. (18+)

➤ pairing: roronoa zoro x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: voyeurism, semi-public sex, established relationship, degradation, humiliation, fluff at the end, franky being franky, fem terms for reader

➤ notes: i've been thinking about this concept for MONTHS and i finally got around to writing it! might make a sequel featuring sanji.. who knows :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

“What is it?” You asked after several moments of silence, studying the foreign object your boyfriend had placed in the palm of your hand. Bright blue, shaped like an oversized bullet with a slightly tapered tip, coated with soft silicone. It definitely wasn’t a weapon or a tool. Zoro’s matching remote didn’t provide any clues. 

“Something I asked Franky to make.” Zoro answered smugly but internally cringed at the memory. A few days ago, he had approached the cyborg with bright red cheeks and mumbled his request without making eye contact. Franky simply responded ‘suuuperrr!’, and Zoro was still trying to forget the fact that he already knew how to build it. “Wanna see how it works?”

The remote only had three dark blue buttons: up, down, and power. He pressed the latter and you flinched as the object suddenly sprung to life in your hand, vibrating softly but consistently. “It… vibrates? Okay, but what is it used fo–” It finally clicked in your brain. “Ohhh. Oh, Zoro.” 

He mirrored your knowing smirk with his own. “C’mon, let’s test it out.”

You could barely stand the next morning, wobbling along the deck even though the sea was calm. Nami gave you a suspicious look before announcing that the ship was about to stop at a nearby island for a supply refill. 

Zoro approached you from behind, his muscular body pressed against your back. Breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Perfect chance to use it again.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean… on the island? In public?”

“What do you think the remote is for?” He frowned. “We talked about this, I thought you were into it. But if you don’t want to…” 

You shook your head — you definitely wanted to. This was a persisting fantasy of yours, something you’d never admitted to your past partners out of embarrassment. But you trusted Zoro more than anyone. However, touching yourself while imagining the thrill of being caught was very different from the impending reality which made your stomach flutter with anxiety. 

“It’s either in town or on the Sunny. Would you rather maybe get caught by strangers or definitely get caught by our friends?” Zoro added with an annoyed expression, “Knowing my luck, that shitty cook would be the first to notice.”

Okay, he had a point. Not just Sanji – getting caught by any of your crewmates would be incredibly awkward. At least you would never see anyone in town again.

So you let Zoro lead you to the men’s quarters, climbing onto his bed as he grabbed the vibrator from his locker. Laughing as he playfully pushed you flat on your back, slotting himself between your legs and easily pulling down your skirt and undies. He ran two fingers up and down your slit before rubbing your clit in small circles. You bit back a moan – this was gonna be a long day. When you were wet enough, Zoro pushed the vibe snugly inside your pussy.

You expected him to keep going and turn it on, maybe let you cum if he was in an especially good mood. But he hopped off the bed, adjusting his rumpled shirt and leaving you to fix your own clothes. “Let’s get going. I need a fucking drink.”

The two of you had been walking around town for nearly a half hour and Zoro hadn’t touched the remote. You passed a bar fifteen minutes ago and he kept walking – he was stalling. Parading you in front of dozens of new faces and leaving you constantly anticipating the vibrations to start. It didn’t help that he kept his hand and the remote in the same pocket of his pants.

A flashy weapons shop caught his eye. He claimed he needed new materials for taking care of his swords, but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he had on the ship. You practically clung to him nervously as he wandered around the shop. He occasionally stopped to study items, seeming a little too interested in a sword that was comically worse than his current ones. 

As he picked it up for a closer look, the toy sprung to life inside of your pussy, causing you to squeal in shock. Vibrations sent shivers up your spine, and you felt a fire ignite in your core just as embarrassment burned in your mind. Zoro turned the power up two levels and snickered when you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve to steady yourself. “Careful, babe, there’s a lot of sharp edges around.”

“I know that.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder and shut your eyes tightly. Unable to do anything besides rub your thighs together. The vibrations weren’t nearly strong enough to make you cum, but they were impossible to ignore. 

“The shopkeeper’s looking at you.” Your boyfriend whispered in a sultry tone. “Bet he wishes you were clinging to him instead. He definitely knows how easy you are. How easy it is to get your slutty cunt soaking wet. You just need a pair of eyes on you, huh?”

“You’re so mean,” you pouted, clenching onto his arm even tighter. Zoro turned up the toy another level and you bit back a moan. You hesitantly turned to look at the shopkeeper, a balding man with beady eyes. He seemed skeptical, not entirely sure what was going on, but his lecherous gaze still moved up and down your body as if he were appraising you. 

“Stop staring at my girlfriend, you goddamn creep.” Zoro suddenly growled and grabbed your hand, quickly moving to the exit as you stumbled behind him. The shopkeeper flushed red and opened his mouth to respond, but Zoro cut him off. “All of your swords are fucking awful.” 

You giggled as the door slammed behind you. “Zoro, if you’re gonna get jealous, why are we doing this?”

“I’m not jealous. I’m showing off what’s mine.” He was right – ‘jealous’ wasn’t the best word to describe him, since you made it clear that he had no competition. ‘Possessive’ was more accurate. He’d been like that since the start of your relationship. Always asking who your pussy belonged to, marking you with bruises and hickies, making you scream his name over and over as he pounded his cock into you. 

Thankfully, you had grown used to the light vibrations after a few minutes – Zoro was kind enough to turn the power level down, but didn’t shut it off. The two of you entered the bar you’d passed earlier, a dark and dingy place with about a dozen people inside.

“Hey!” Luffy’s obscenely loud voice rang throughout the building. He waved you over to where he was sitting, the large table already covered in empty dishes. Your eyes widened and you subtly shook your head at Zoro. The swordsman ignored you and strolled over to the bar counter to order two glasses of sake, leaving you no choice but to sit across from your captain. 

Your boyfriend placed a glass in front of you and moved his chair incredibly close to yours, resting his hand on your bare upper thigh. You shifted in your seat — big mistake. The toy was now pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. 

“What’ve you guys been doing? Zoro, I thought you’d come straight here,” Luffy asked around a mouthful of food.

Zoro mentioned the shops you stopped by, casually turning the vibrator much higher mid-sentence. You clamped a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your lewd moan, bending over in surprise as the toy insistently massaged your walls. It simultaneously felt heavenly and sadistic – the unrelenting pressure on your g-spot and Zoro’s big hand tightening on your thigh, clearly satisfied by your response. 

Luffy seemed confused, but Zoro told him that sake doesn’t always sit right with your stomach. Yeah, sure, your glazed over eyes and squirming legs could definitely pass as a stomach ache. Maybe to your oblivious captain, but certainly not to the people around you.

Your boyfriend’s hand moved farther up your leg, sneaking under your skirt to thumb at the waistband of your panties and rub the sensitive skin underneath. The toy got even stronger, probably on its highest setting at this point. Zoro continued his conversation with Luffy without stumbling once, barely glancing at you when you spilled your second round of sake all over your white shirt. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Luffy frowned, leaning across the table to study you closely. You prayed he wouldn’t look down and notice Zoro’s half-hidden hand. “Maybe you should talk to Chopper.”

“No! No Chopper!” You immediately exclaimed, making Zoro chuckle quietly. “I… I mean I’m fine, I’m not sick.”

Your captain hummed in thought, but in typical Luffy fashion, shrugged and said, “Well, whatever.”

Zoro finally turned to look at you with a sly grin. “Why don’t we go to the bathroom to wash off that stain?” You instantly nodded in agreement.

The swordsman shoved you against the wall of a men’s bathroom stall and crashed his lips against yours, devouring your mouth like an animal. One hand held your wrists together above your head and kept you in place as the other trailed across your chest, stopping to squeeze your tits. He delighted in your barely restrained moans and breathy whimpers of his name.

“You have no idea how fucking sexy that was,” he panted against your lips. “You’re so bad at hiding how much of a dirty whore you are for attention. All you need is your cute cunt touched and you’re gone. You probably have no idea where we are right now. The only thing your slutty brain can think about is my cock, right?”

“Yes, fuck, Zoro, I need you so badly.” With a satisfied smirk, he hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down to your mid-thighs. Unceremoniously pushing two fingers inside your hole to retrieve the vibrator. You were so lucky that the bathroom was empty – the noise you made was unholy. 

“Your panties are fucking soaked,” he snickered, admiring the obvious wet spot on the fabric. But Zoro didn’t turn the toy off, simply turned down the vibrations then reached under your shirt and pressed it against your nipple. You cried out again as he adjusted its position so your bra would keep it firmly in place.

Zoro flipped you around so you were facing the wall. He was right – you were much too cockdrunk (and slightly tipsy on real alcohol) to care about how unhygienic a bar bathroom was. You unconsciously wiggled your hips when you heard the sound of his zipper and felt his hard cock rest on top of your ass. He grabbed your wrists again to keep them firmly pinned behind your back. 

“Don’t even need to prep you, I can just slide right in,” the swordsman chuckled. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit teasingly, then shoved his entire length inside you in one rough thrust. You let out a pleased moan, glad that you were finally getting the orgasm you’d been anticipating for at least an hour. Zoro rested his head in the crook of your neck. “You’re so damn loud. We’re still in public, y’know.”

“So shut me up.” You pressed your lips against his again, tongues swirling around each other in a messy dance as he continued to fuck you hard. His cock hit all the right places inside you, the ridges and veins and warmth giving you a more human sense of satisfaction than the electronic toy ever could. It still buzzed away against your nipple, which was almost painfully stiff at that point. Zoro panted heavily against your mouth – riling you up inevitably got him riled up, and he was just as close to hitting his peak as you were.

The bathroom door opened.

Both of you froze. Your entire body went as stiff as a mannequin, too afraid to even breathe. Zoro narrowed his good eye and listened closely to every single footstep, door creak and ruffle of clothes. There were three bathroom stalls, and the stranger was courteous enough to use the one farthest from you, leaving an empty one in between. Once he was sure that the person wasn’t a Straw Hat, Zoro’s hand moved from gripping your ass to cupping your face, silently pushing two fingers between your lips. You gagged around them anxiously.

“Now we really gotta be quiet,” the swordsman whispered directly in your ear. You didn’t have time to question what he meant before he slowly moved his hips back, his dick pulling out of you inch by inch until only the tip was inside of you. He pushed back in just as carefully, the quietest smack of skin as his hips met your ass echoing in your racing mind. The stranger heard it, you knew he heard it. Zoro shifted again and you shook your head in protest, but he just pushed his fingers farther down your throat and continued to fuck you. 

The sound of a toilet flushing made you jump. Zoro’s hips moved in slow circles and grinded his cock against your walls, deep and deliberate. You heard the stranger unlock his stall and turn on the sink outside. If he glanced in the mirror, he would definitely see two pairs of feet pressed together underneath your stall. Your pussy clenched at the thought, causing Zoro to grunt quietly.

As soon as the bathroom door swung closed, Zoro pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and you gasped for air. “Good little slut listened to me for once,” he chuckled and resumed his previous brutal pace, thick cock filling your cunt so perfectly and prodding at your cervix. 

“Fuck, I’m so close…” You whined, feeling drool drip down your chin.

Zoro promptly reached underneath you to massage your clit. “I’m right there, too, baby. Cum for me.” His words – his permission – brought you over the edge. You saw stars and really tried your best to not let the entire bar hear you. Moments later, thick spurts of cum coated your insides, Zoro biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own satisfied groan. 

You stayed pressed together as you both caught your breath, his cock still snugly inside you. “Zoro, the vibrator–” He had clearly forgotten about it, but there was no way you could ignore the incessant buzzing against your practically numb nipple. He instantly fumbled to grab the remote from his pocket, finally shutting the toy off.

“My fault,” he mumbled apologetically. Letting out a content sigh and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know I’m an asshole, but, uh, thank you. For being so good to me.”

“You’re not an asshole,” you frowned, gently rubbing the top of his head. “I’m the one who asked for this. I like it when you’re a meanie, and I like that you like it, too.”

He grinned and nuzzled into your touch, prompting you to pull him even closer. “Is there a difference between an asshole and a meanie?”

“Of course. I would never date an asshole. Just a guy who fucks me exactly how I want it.” You giggled to yourself. “We’re going to a clothing store before we leave, by the way. You owe me a new shirt.”

When you exited the bathroom, cheeks still slightly flushed and dry sweat on your temple, Franky had stolen your chair at the table, sitting across from Luffy and chugging a bottle of cola. He spotted you two and immediately gave you a big thumbs up, shouting “Yow!”. Both of you blushed furiously — so much for avoiding getting caught by your crew. Perverts recognized perverts, you supposed. 

[pumpkabitch]

Would people be interested in reading a Merthur fic where after Arthur dies he wakes up on the day he first met Merlin and remembered everything?

[eatmyass-x]

One afternoon while Wei Ying is preparing dinner, A-Yuan looks up from his toy trucks and asks, “Baba, how comes lots of people in my class have a mom, but I don’t?”

Wei Ying’s hands falter at the chopping board. “Every family is different,” he explains carefully. “One mom, two moms, one dad, two dads. There’s loads of options.”

“But who decides?”

“What do you mean, baobei?” Wei Ying asks.

A-Yuan looks at him like he’s being silly. “Who decides who gets one baba, or two babas, or ten babas?”

Wei Ying laughs. He’s relieved A-Yuan only seems curious and isn’t upset. “Well, grown ups usually decide if they want a husband or a wife. And then they have baby radishes together.” He gives A-Yuan’s nose a gentle poke, making the boy giggle. “But some people like me decide to do it alone.” His explanation is probably not the best, but A-Yuan’s questions have admittedly taken him by surprise.

“So grown ups can have a husband or a wife…” A-Yuan holds up two sticky fingers to demonstrate. “And Baba still doesn’t have anyone?”

“I—” Wei Ying is gobsmacked. He stares at A-Yuan with his mouth agape. A-Yuan looks at him expectantly, like he’s waiting to hear an explanation as to why his Baba is incapable of finding love. Wei Ying quickly turns away and starts plating out their food. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Aunty Yanli said—”

“Eat up, baby.” Wei Ying grins wide and feeds A-Yuan a mouthful of rice, effectively shutting him up. And that’s the end of that.

Or so he thinks.

The next morning on the school playground, A-Yuan escapes from Wei Ying’s hold the second he spots Lan Jingyi, running into his friend’s arms like they’ve been separated for years. They see each other every weekday, and sometimes on the weekends too.

Wei Ying laughs and spots Jingyi’s dad looking similarly amused. The sun is out today and Lan Zhan’s pretty eyes sparkle in the sunlight. He’s utterly breathtaking. Wei Ying's heartbeat still stutters every time they see each other, and they see each other almost every day. It’s humiliating, really.

“Good morning, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan greets, voice as rich and low as ever.

“Morning, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying gives him a big, beaming grin. “How was your weekend without us?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t quite smile, but there’s laughter in his eyes. “Messy. Jingyi got into—”

“Mr Lan! Mr Lan!” A-Yuan runs back over and attaches himself to Lan Zhan’s leg like a limpet, creasing up his neatly ironed slacks.

“Yes, A-Yuan?” Lan Zhan’s hand instinctively goes to A-Yuan’s head, patting it like he does his own son’s.

“Baba needs a husband, Mr Lan,” A-Yuan says.

Wei Ying’s blood runs cold, his whole life flashing before his eyes. “A-Yuan, no—!” he splutters, trying to get the boy to stop.

But A-Yuan forges ahead without a care, voice filled with glee. “Can you marry my Baba please, Mr Lan? Then me and Jingyi can be real, actual brothers and be together forever! And then— And then we can all live happily ever after!”

“That’s enough, A-Yuan!” Wei Ying exclaims. His body feels like it’s on fire and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. He crouches down to be at eye level with A-Yuan, despite the shakiness of his legs. “Remember what we said about thinking before we speak?”

“Ummm… that we should think before we speak?” A-Yuan blinks his innocent doe eyes up at him like he hasn’t just ruined Wei Ying’s life.

“Exactly,” Wei Ying sighs. But he doesn’t have it in him to get upset or annoyed with his son. “It’s time for you to head into class. Your teacher’s waiting for you.” He kisses A-Yuan on the forehead. “Bye bye, radish. Love you.”

“Bye bye, Baba! Love you too!” A-Yuan gives him a fat, slobbery kiss right back and then skips off to his classroom, hand in hand with Jingyi.

Wei Ying grits his teeth and slowly stands back up. Time to face the music. “I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan. I promise I didn’t put him up to it.” He doesn’t quite have the courage to meet Lan Zhan’s eyes. “He’s been asking questions about families and moms and dads and I don’t know, maybe I didn’t explain things properly. I’m so sorry, Lan Zhan.”

“No need to apologise,” Lan Zhan tells him.

“No, but there is!” Wei Ying insists. “Tell me how I can make it up to you?”

When there’s no response, Wei Ying braces himself and hesitantly looks up. Only to find that for some strange, inexplicable reason, Lan Zhan is smiling. “Let me take you out to dinner, Wei Ying.”

“What?!”

“A date,” Lan Zhan explains, like it isn’t clear enough already. “To make it up to me.”

“But Lan Zhan, I— You—” It seems that all Wei Ying is capable of today is sputtering and making a fool of himself.

Lan Zhan steps closer, still with that amused glint in his eyes, and gently brushes away a strand of hair that’s blown into Wei Ying’s face. “Don’t you want to live happily ever after, Wei Ying?” he asks.

Wei Ying feels like he’s died and gone straight to heaven.

[tunastime]

UM UM UM “staying up until midnight to talk” with SEN or DBHC ethubs or docsuma

Or “pull me closer,” with dbhc docsuma :floshed:

Okay skitters away

staying up until midnight to talk (919 words) (x) (:3c)

Etho’s hands follow a practiced rhythm. He isn’t sure how they wouldn’t, with every wire and mechanism and gear in his body perfectly calibrated to move with precision and within expectation. He certainly fails, and jerks, and stutters, and falls, but base programming, movements that fell perfectly into subroutines he couldn’t even begin to trace, even if Xisuma showed him the exact steps? Of course they were perfect. And of course he never faltered.

The sand beneath him offers a much needed cushioning from the hard, winter dirt, despite the fact that the sun provides little warmth to the air around them in the snow fort. The sky is so blue it makes his eyes strain to look at—and maybe it would hurt, if he knew how it was supposed to feel.

Instead, Etho watches patches of sky blue in the silver-warped reflection of his sword, faint flickers of enchantment pulsing out from the hilt where the hastily carved runes sit. He runs the sharpening stone against the blade’s flat edge, careful not to nick the silicon of his fingers as he scrapes it across, again, and again. Practiced, careful, calculated rhythm. So much so that he doesn’t even register the sounds of shuffling a few paces away until Bdubs’ voice cuts through the silence.

“Etho,” he says, voice all rough around the edges like he were hungry for something more than just company. Etho keeps sharpening, just for a moment, before he chances a glance over.

Bdubs leans at the wooden fence, leaning his weight into the flimsily-set posts. He grins like nothing in the world could bother him. The characteristic dark brown of his eyes flickers with red, with that same hunger. Etho hates it. Which is odd. Because he really doesn’t feel strongly about much of anything, and disgust is an emotion very foreign to him, and he’s beginning to think the slight grinding in his chest is a problem Xisuma might need to diagnose when he gets back. It feels wrong. Because he knows he likes Bdubs just fine. He trusts him just enough. But that look.

Bdubs is still watching him, eyeing the sword in his hand with a gaze he can’t place, let alone read. Better give him an answer.

“Bdubs,” he says calmly, tilting his head to the side.

“You thought anymore about my offer?”

Etho makes a sound like a hum, mimicking the sound of turning the idea over in his head. He stands, setting his whetstone next to the cold embers of last night’s fire. The pot and cups still rest in the dirt, as cold as the rest of their surroundings. The sword stays in his hand.

(In the back of his mind, a memory surfaces. In it, Etho lies in the night-damp grass in clothes that still smell a bit like gunpowder, but not enough to notice unless you got real close. Bdubs is somewhere to his immediate left, still speaking, haloed in the glow of lanterns and lights of a shop. One of them at least. Within the clarity of memory, Etho can pinpoint that it’s Tango’s shop. Bdubs doesn’t live far from here. He isn’t sure when waiting for Tango to restock candles turned into tell Etho all about the extra additions to your base and your journey to find all the perfect horses for the Horse Course that you both just wrapped up, or into tell Bdubs all about how empty the mountain is, and how interesting this new game sounds, and how you hope you both find somewhere cool to base. Because you’ve already told him that you’re teaming up. But it does, and in this same space, the sky is full of bright white stars and a sliver of a moon that's starting to peek into the sky. Bdubs yawns.)

“The one from last night?” Etho asks, coming to with the sword heavy in his hand. He pushes the point into the soft sand until it hits hard earth and starts to give.

“You don’t gotta keep this fence, Etho…” Bdubs sighs, leaning his head into his palm. Etho folds his arms across his chest, splays one hand as he shrugs.

“Seems like the best way to settle this, ‘Dubs.”

“You could join me. Could always still join me,” Bdubs tries. “Just a quick one-two stab! Easy!”

“I can’t do that,” Etho says, shaking his head. “You know that.”

Bdubs sighs again, dramatic, deflating over the fence as Etho’s rejection stands firm. The thirium in his chest feels like it’s been flash frozen and has only started to dethaw, cold in his hands and feet, up his shins and to his elbows. He rolls his shoulders in, cupping each hand around each opposite elbow. There’s a little warmth to be found in the action with no fans kicking on to compensate.

“Well,” Bdubs says, drumming on the wooden beam between the two fence posts. “If you ever change your mind.”

He watches Etho for a moment, that familiar look coming to his eyes, as if it were trying to eclipse the haze of red Bdubs looks at him through, as if it were trying to expand his tunnel vision by just a fraction of an inch. Just as Etho notices, it’s snuffed, and the easy, careful look is replaced by an indifference Etho doesn’t think he enjoys. He still isn’t sure how much he knows for certain. He shrugs, barely a movement at all. Better say something.

“I won’t,” he says.

Bdubs huffs and turns away.

[mamawasatesttube]

all the quiet nights you bear

T | fluff, hurt/comfort | timkon hair washing | 7.6k

Kon has a rough day. Tim is determined to take care of him. After all, he didn't memorize all the variations of Kon's curl routine for nothing, now, did he?

Click!

The lock on the door flicks open as Kon alights on the balcony outside. Grateful for the distraction (typing up reports for his latest R&D-related tinkering is by far the most boring part of his job), Tim swivels around in his desk chair to welcome him home, a greeting on the tip of his tongue—

And pauses.

Kon's hair is a frizzy mess.

That's the first red flag. Kon is ridiculously vain when he wants to be; Bart’s called him a prissy peacock on more than one occasion. Especially about his hair, especially now that he’s been growing it out. He’s got a whole hair care shower routine, and an array of curl creams and oils and whatnot that he had to explain to Tim twice before any of it stuck in his head properly. Tim teases him for being extra now and then, but he knows it's not just vanity.

Kon doesn't like people seeing him at anything but his best. He got too used to being picked apart by vultures behind cameras, years ago, to ever be comfortable with that.

So the fact that his hair is unkempt and mussed as he lets himself in is... concerning.

{ read on ao3! }

[everybodyshusband]

uhhh in My Feels™️ so woe, ansgt be upon ye !!!

disabled rain, angst, hurt/not much comfort, it's just sad and a bit weird and bad i'm sorry ksdfjnsfkdf divider by the icon that is @/wrathofrats

Rain is a jealous ghoul. He’s always known it.

It’s fun, sometimes. Fun to let his packmates play with his jealousies until he just can’t help but snap. Until he’s got one of them over his lap, turned on beyond belief, skin red hot, as they beg for his mercy. As they apologise for daring to belong to anyone but him.

So yes, his jealousy is fun, but he never expected for it to manifest like this.

The first time, he thought he was just overtired. Anger boiling inside of him caused by lack of sleep the previous night rather than jealousy of one of his packmates. After all, this is a stupid thing to be jealous about, and the night before, well… He’d been rather too busy being taken apart inch by painstaking inch by Zephyr to really have had any modicum of decent sleep at all. So again, why was he jealous? Why is he still jealous? What motive did he have to be jealous of the ghoul that was in his bed only the night before?

It wasn’t until Aeon was summoned that he figured it out. Until the sensation of his blood boiling could be tied to more than just an abstract feeling of annoyance bubbling under his skin. With Aeon, he’s never felt his usual jealousy—the quintessence ghoul is in his bed more often than not, so why would he? What he has felt however, has been that awful, sick feeling of hatred every time that new ghoul stumbles. Complains of his ailments. Asks to borrow one of Zephyr’s old canes or pairs of forearm crutches for stability on a particularly bad day.

That’s when it had all clicked together. Aeon. Zephyr. Sometimes even Mountain or Cumulus.

But never Rain.

His jealousy stems from the fact that they get help. They are allowed to be in pain, to be uncomfortable. They have a reason. They have been seen by Omega, by Aether, by the team in the infirmary, and they all have something different about them.

Rain doesn’t.

Rain, with the hyperextended legs that apparently cause him no medical difficulties and yet still stumbles during practice or onstage. Rain, with the perfect iron count whose vision still turns to static when he stands up. Rain, with joints that ache, bones that pop, a head that never quite seems to be able to pay attention as well as the others, but he’s fine. No matter how hard he presses that something is wrong, he’s fine. Nevermind that he’s been Up Top for years, nevermind that he’s done all that he can to treat this on his own. Nevermind that he’s getting worse. He’s fine, at least that’s what Aether had told him the last time he took a trip to the infirmary.

So yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of Zephyr’s chair on their bad days and the fact that Aeon feels no shame in asking to borrow mobility aids from ghouls that aren’t using them. He’s jealous that Cumulus only needs to ask Aether for a wrist splint before one is in her lap, being meticulously fastened by the quintessence ghoul himself. He’s tried to reign it in, the intensity of his emotions about this, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t. He knows it’s not anyone’s fault, least of all Aeth’s or Meg’s—they’re just doing their jobs, there’s protocol they have to follow—but that knowledge doesn’t stop the jealousy, the aggravation, the hatred of his beloved packmates for simply existing in a way that he’s not allowed to. For getting help in a way that he’s too scared to ask for.

He often thinks that perhaps this is why he’s so angry, so jealous. It’s his own fault he can’t—won’t—ask for help from any of them. He knows he’s allowed to. He knows that Aether and Omega would be more than happy to bend the rules a little to help him out, or that Zephyr wouldn’t mind lending him a (literal) something to lean on when Rain needs it. But he’s scared. Scared that if they can help, he won’t be in pain anymore and he’s been lying this whole time. And scared that if they can’t, that he’s unfixable, untreatable. That this vessel is just another one of God’s mistakes that Satan never bothered to fix. Maybe it is. Maybe there’s no fixing him. No helping him.

He hopes that’s not the case. As much as getting whatever this is fixed scares him, he knows he can’t go on like this forever. His pack knows it too. Zephyr had noticed it first. They’d sat him down one day in their room and had simply waited until it had all come pouring out in a mess of tears and snot and helplessness. Since then, the pack have known what’s been happening and as a collective, they’ve been doing their best to help him. It’s nice, he thinks. For them to be so kind to a being as broken as himself. One day he’ll try his best to repay them all. For now though, he just needs to work up the energy to swing his legs over the edge of his mattress, to muster up the courage to call Aeon and ask for his help, and maybe a cane.

Or maybe he’ll just stay in bed a while longer...

[rockingrobin69]

Wildly

“I have this—dream,” Harry started, mouth so dry he had to stop, swallow a little helplessly. Draco’s grey eyes, expectant: “Never mind.”

“What? Come on, spit it out.”

“Nothing. It’s silly.”

A shove to his shoulder. “You’re silly. And it’s your turn, so, you have to tell me anyway.”

With a lopsided grin and his chest all fluttering, “You’ll laugh.”

“I never laugh. It’s one of the core Malfoy Values: no speaking while chewing, always pace instead of run, and under no circumstances, do not laugh.”

Harry rolled his eyes, feeling lightheaded with it. Draco’s feet tucked under his thigh, leaning against the arm of Harry’s sofa like he belongs there, like there’s no place else he could be. Happiness was a warm trickle running in his belly, this soft thing he was scared to move for fear of disturbing.

Still, breathed in, felt his chest go wide. Made himself open his mouth. “It’s—when we’re older. And we’ve been, erm, together, for a while. Your hair’s gone all white,” (“excuse you!”), “all silver, I mean, and we’re, y’know, old. And we have this garden.”

Braved a look up. Draco’s face was alight, something so tender it robbed Harry of words, of air. Taking his hand, overcome.

“A garden,” Draco said, not a whisper but something close. “That sounds lovely.”

“And we—let it grow wild. With trees and weeds and flowers. And every morning, if the weather’s nice, we go outside and have our tea there.”

Draco’s fingers squeezed his. “We could have a porch with a roof. So we’re not entirely weather-dependant.”

Not saying, there are charms to repel the rain, or, we live in Britain, for crying out loud. Serious, so seriously looking into Harry’s eyes, like he could see it too, like he wanted this.

“And—I don’t know. Maybe a bird feeder or a pond. And we sit very quietly in the mornings and wait for the animals, birds or frogs or squirrels or foxes. And we’re old, and, happy? That’s… it’s silly.”

“You’re silly,” Draco said again, shaking his head with his eyebrows arched and fond. “The silliest creature of all. Harry, this isn’t a dream. We’ll have all this.”

“How—” swallowing, swallowing, “how can you say that. We’ve only been… we’re so new at this. And life can, we know it can.”

Draco shook his head, brought Harry’s hand up for a kiss. “I know,” he said, “because I’ll do whatever it fucking takes, Potter, to give you exactly this. The garden and the birds and the foxes. The life you want, all of it, exactly it. Do you have any idea how rotten I’ll spoil you?”

“Stop—” shoulders up, trying to scramble away from his kisses, but the Draco-attack was relentless and dauntless and climbing all over him on the sofa, nibbling his cheek, the edge of his nose, his eyebrow, “Draco, ha, fuck, stop!”

“Never,” with a tone so certain and so deep Harry believed it immediately, started laughing, wiping his face. “Harry, I will never stop. Get that in your gorgeous little head right now: I will never, ever stop, and I’ll make sure that you’re happy, that you’re so happy, that you’re well and bloody delirious till the end of time, do you hear me?”

“Okay!” yelling, helpless, “okay, okay, I hear you. Now get off, you menace, you’re crushing me and it’s far too hot and.” Taking Draco’s face in his hands, steadying it through the blurriness. “You ridiculous creature,” with so much affection it was battering his insides, it was painful.

“I’m the ridiculous one,” Draco huffed. “You’re sitting here thinking I’ll let you go without a single dream you can name. Harry…”

“Okay,” laughing, still helpless. “I got it. You’ll take care of me.”

“Now he bloody gets it.”

His thumb traced Draco’s jawline, rested against his pink bottom lip. “You’ll give me my garden,” he said carefully.

“With the birdfeeder and the pond.”

“And the tea, and the porch.” And forever, Harry didn’t say.

And forever, Draco smiled. “All of it.”

“Fine. You… fine. I guess I’ll just have to take it and be happy.”

“Now, that sounds like a plan,” Draco smirked, leaning into his palm. “Can we kiss already, or are you still hell-bent on being a sap?”

“I’m the—you perfect, ridiculous creature,” crushing their faces together and shaking with it. “If I recall correctly, now it’s your turn, and I won’t let you try and skip it with slyness and trickery.”

“Trickery,” Draco’s eyes rolled, so close it was only the one grey blob.

Harry couldn’t breathe. “Shut up. Shut up and tell me. You think you’re the only one who… if you’ll make me happy I’ll make you bloody—ecstatic.”

“Always a competition with that man,” but he sighed, a soft thing, and leaned his forehead against Harry’s. “You want to know? You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” Blinked, the movement a gentle tap on Harry’s cheeks. “I have this dream. When we’re older. And we have a garden, and we drink a lot of tea, and you’re so, so, so happy.”

“Come—here,” weakly, “with your fucking, ugh, just kiss me, please,” and Draco did, fire-wild, roasting hot and just as bright.

Harry didn’t know how to tell him he was, already. Happy. So he kissed him, and kissed him, and hoped it was enough.

(Flufftober day 7. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[cha-melodius]

💘 firstprince please :)

💘 fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss  (I skipped ahead on prompts so I could write the companion piece to this ficlet. if you were hoping for fake relationship, watch this space, I have another one of these hearts to do lol. read all the kiss ficlets)

Alex doesn’t know how he got himself into this situation.

To be fair, coming out was entirely his idea. It’d been too long since he let loose and had fun, so when a girl in his econ class told him about this party, he’d put on his tightest pair of jeans and crop top, styled his curls just so, and dragged Liam along with him for good measure (Alex loves his best friend, but the dude needs to get out more).

So far he’s had fun dancing, and he’s been hit on by plenty of very enthusiastic girls, but nothing’s really clicked. There’s something else thrumming under his skin that he can’t put a finger on. It didn’t really help that he nearly ran into Liam making out with Pez Okonjo on his way to the bathroom. Obviously it’s fine that he was, Alex knows (now) that Liam is gay, and he’s free to kiss whoever he wants. It’s not like Alex was jealous. If anything, it was kinda hot—they looked good together, Liam’s pale skin against Pez’s dark tones, which is frankly not a thought Alex is sober enough to deal with right now.

Alex is also not sober enough deal with running into Pez later, who has a tall, blond, ridiculously hot friend in tow this time. Blondie is wearing a plain button down and khakis, like he’s at a business lunch, but somehow the way his shirt is cuffed at the elbows and unbuttoned at the top to let his collarbones peek out is more alluring than most of the half-dressed coeds at the party. Then there’s the way his golden hair flops over his forehead and his blue eyes shine in the low light, and it’s a lot, ok? Fuck.

It’s honestly a bit of a relief when Alex gets dragged away and convinced to do some kind of scavenger hunt, which sounds kinda dumb, but whatever. It’ll keep his mind off Pez’s hot friend. He works his way down the list, taking shots and doing ridiculous dances and convincing people to give him their numbers (not hard), until he hits one in particular—make out with someone you met tonight.

He’s met plenty of people tonight. Lots of girls who’d probably be willing, honestly. Somehow, only one person sticks out in his head.

Apparently he’s not even fucking subtle about it, which is embarrassing. Liam catches him looking down at his list, then back up at Henry across the room, and slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Go on. Ask him,” Liam goads, grinning drunkenly at Alex. “I think he’s into you.”

As if on cue, Henry glances over at them, then quickly looks away again when he sees them staring.

“You’re on drugs,” Alex scoffs, trying and failing to shove him away as something inside his stomach turns over at the thought that Henry might be into him. It’s probably just the liquor. “Maybe he likes you.”

“Nah,” Liam says confidently. “You wanted a wingman. I’m winging. Wingmanning? I dunno, man. Just go kiss him, ok?”

Alex can feel his face getting hot. “Fuck off.”

Liam’s grin goes sharp and wicked. “I dare you.”

Fuck. The best friend dare is sacred. If Alex doesn’t do it, he’ll have to do something else later that’s like ten times worse. Fuck.

Alex crosses the room in some kind of daze, the rest of the party falling away around him. Is he really doing this? Apparently so. He stops by Henry’s elbow, and the other man turns to look at him.

“Hey,” Alex says. Amazing opening line, truly. Fuck, he’s an idiot.

“Alex, right?” Henry replies with a little smile. Alex nods. “What’s up?”

Alex swallows hard. “Can I kiss you?” he blurts. Henry’s eyes go wide, and Alex holds up the sheet of paper. “It’s a dare.”

“Oh,” Henry says, sounding almost disappointed.

“But also, like, you’re really hot and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and I’m not gay but I— I might be bi, I guess, I don’t really know because my best friend is gay and I never thought I was really into guys but I kinda want to kiss you, I mean, I really want to kiss you, if you’re into it, and oh my god, I’m such a fucking idiot, please forget I ever said any of this to you.”

Alex turns on his heel, ready to flee the house and probably the country, but Henry catches him by the arm and pulls him back. Pulls him in, firmly, so that Alex has to tip his head up, and then Henry’s kissing him. Softly at first, but Alex whimpers and opens his mouth, tilting his head to slot their mouths more firmly together, the taste of cheap booze and sugary mixers blending on their tongues. Henry gets a hand into his hair and Alex likes that even more, likes the way Henry surrounds him, likes the way Henry's waist feels under his palms. Never wants it to end, actually.

Henry does eventually pull back, though. Sadly. Alex promises he doesn’t whine.

“So,” Henry murmurs. He still hasn’t let Alex go, and Alex is entirely ok with that. “Thoughts?”

“I think I need another. Y’know. To gather more evidence.”

“Another kiss?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathes. “Maybe more than one.”

Henry laughs, low and warm, and he kisses Alex again.

[denpa-dere]

prompt 10 for luci!!!

Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer

Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking

___

Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always. 

But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.

The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him. 

Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell. 

You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard. 

You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things. 

"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape. 

You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you. 

You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you. 

"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you. 

"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."

He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”

You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”

You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.

“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.”

Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.

Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.

“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.

“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”

Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.

“It means everything to me,” You choked out.

He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”

You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”

“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

[allisonjamaica]

stories in steel and glass

Summary:

He’s a liar and a murderer, but he’s a liar and a murderer with nothing to lose save for a bullet-ridden pickup truck and the boy in his passenger seat.

or:

Theo and Liam and the truck, through it all.

[hello-eeveev]

This post and everyone’s tags on it have made me want to outline and/or write a fic where bells hells learn that the ‘dirt wizard’ from the malleus key and handsome fugitive wizard that’s escorting them to Aeor are in a relationship. Another outsider POV “wait, the wizards are dating?!?” fic, a la oh, by the way.

However, this has led me down a deep rabbit hole of figuring out exactly what the bells hells know about Caleb and what they know about Essek and what bits of information will connect once they realize that they know the guy Essek was gushing about. Which is really difficult! Because I’ve been making these connections since they were mere suggestions! I have all this context that lets me know that the Widogast that sent an archivist from the cobalt soul is the old friend that lead Astrid to cooperate with the interrogation, who is the same person that Essek said he was going to talk to before bed!! Did the Bells Hells even have the mental bandwidth to remember the singular comment that Seth was “sent by Widogast”?

Anyways, my brain is flooded with information and I’m 95% sure Allura knows Essek and has talked dunamancy with him now.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

CONGRATS ON HUNDRED DOVE!! you sent me a risqué ask for 100 so now i do it back to ye-

"caught in the rain" with leona :D or ruggie, if someone got to him first! ehehehehehehhehehehe you can see stuff 😳👀 for free ✨✨✨

btw your ask is sending me so hard but i'm already typing out so much for leona so your ask is gonna be the last one for the event lol

Caught in the Rain; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader needs to get bonked with a stick (/j)

Content Warning; Swearing

Word Count; 700+

AN; Don't expose my ass on my own blog, Soru /j. (just trying to feed your own simping along with the simps) But I hope you enjoy what I wrote for Leona and this prompt! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The sky lay heavy with dark clouds, the smell of rain thick in the air, yet not a single drop had yet to strike the ground. The air was dense with humidity, warm from the harsh sun’s rays from earlier in the day. But yet, you found yourself outside, trying to find Leona.

He had invited you to spend your summer break as his guest in the palace. Well, less so 'invited', more so demanded.

“Do you have anywhere else to be, herbivore? I thought as much. Come on, you’re staying with me.”

You still don’t really know why, but you weren’t going to throw away the chance of staying someplace beyond nice for the summer… plus Leona wasn’t so bad once you got to know him. Yes, he puts on an act of not caring, and being abrasive, but you knew that he cared, that he worried. Also, the two of you had been having this back-and-forth banter for months; blurring the lines of just friends bickering and something... more. But neither of you had made a move. It just hung in the air between you, nearly as suffocating as the humidity now; potent with the possibility of a massive storm.

Back to the present though. You were on the outskirts of the palace, looking for wherever Leona had decided to take a nap for this afternoon.

“Leona,” you called, but all you heard in return was the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Where is that overgrown house cat? I swear if I get caught in a downpour because of him… “LEONA!”

The first drops of rain began to fall, gentle and sparse. But you knew full well that in a few minutes' time they would be falling hard and fast.

“LEONA KINGSCHOLAR?!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You heard an annoyed huff of air off to your left, and looking up you saw none other than Leona lounging in the low-hanging branches of a tree.

“Ya don’t need to yell, ya know,” he sighed, landing softly on the ground. He looked up to the sky and frowned before setting a slow pace back to the palace. “Are you coming or what, herbivore?”

You followed after him, catching up so the both of you were going at a comfortable pace. Thunder was still rumbling, and the rain was slowly picking up, but there was no rush. Well, there wasn’t any rush until there was a flash of lightning and it seemed like the entire sky’s worth of water came down all at once on the both of you.

“Shit,” Leona hissed and guided the both of you to the relative cover of a tree to wait out the worst of the monsoon. “Just our luc-” He stopped talking when he looked at you though.

You were spitting out some stray rainwater that had managed to get into your mouth. But once the intruding water was gone you looked over to him but you felt your eyes lock on his torso; the white shirt that he was wearing was now completely see-through and you could see everything. Stop staring! Damn though- STOP STARING! But your eyes refused to move.

Leona noticed this, and he also took in your drenched appearance but was more subtle with it. “Tch,” he tapped you on the nose, breaking you of your staring stupor. “My eyes are up here,” his voice was teasing though, light.

You snapped out of it, catching his mirthful eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whisper. You felt your face grow warm at the slip of your tongue, but it was true. Even before you openly ogled at him, you always thought that, but never said it to his face.

Leona chuffed, but he didn’t say anything; neither denying or accepting your statement. “You aren’t half bad yourself,” he said softly.

The two of you sat underneath the tree, still in your soaked clothes, watching the rain fall together in a comfortable quiet. And while the first golden rays of sunlight may have been stunning, the both of you thought it was nothing when compared to the captor of your hearts; each other.

After all, you still had the rest of the summer to build on this new development.

[underforeversgrace]

Savant par!

From this ask game. (Send me a pairing/group of characters and I'll write a short little scene!)

I hope you wanted fluff because this is a pure 900 words of fucking fluff.

~~

Danny groaned and he reached outside of the warm cocoon of blankets he was enclosed in, swatting blindly until his hand finally connected with the alarm clock blaring beside his bed.

He knew he should get up, he had classes today… but Tucker’s slow breaths lulled him back into his dreams, curling up at Tucker’s side. It was college, no teacher expected everyone to show up every single day. Besides that, it was him. Their teachers were always more surprised when he showed up than when he didn’t.

Oh well. He was fairly certain none of them were quite able to handle the fact they were teaching a semi-dead teenager who had saved all of them a time or two. Despite his secret having been known for six years by now amongst the Amity population and many of these teachers the same ones he’d had multiple times in the past four years of college, it seemed people still struggled to understand Danny was just a normal kid (most of the time).

The next time Danny awoke, it was to a gentle pressure on his forehead. Danny peeked open one eye, smiling at Tucker’s sleepy face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Tucker yawned. “You skipped class, did you know that?”

“Mmmm,” Danny hummed noncommittally. “Had better things to do.”

“You should probably get up, you can still make your afternoon physics class,” Tucker said, though he began running his fingers through Danny’s tangled black hair.

Danny made a sound somewhere between a whine and yawn and buried his head into the hollow of Tucker’s throat, listening to the rhythmic beats of his boyfriend’s heart and the blood rushing in his veins. Danny looped one arm over Tucker’s waist, hooking his ankle behind one of Tucker’s legs.

“I thought I was dating a ghost, not a koala,” Tucker laughed, though he didn’t protest. Tucker snaked his one arm under Danny’s neck and let the other lay lazily over Danny’s hip.

“I’m the ghost of a koala,” Danny answered matter of factly.

Tucker laughed, pulling Danny closer. “You’re cold,” he whined, even though his actions showed he clearly didn’t mind.

Danny grinned mischievously and slid his hand under the hem of Tuck’s shirt and against the small of his back. He might have triggered his ice powers just an eensie  weensie bit and Tucker yelped in protest as Danny cackled.

“That’s cheating!” Tucker laughed, squirming to get away from Danny.

“No, mine!” Danny said, playfully tightening his grip on Tucker. “You’re warm and I’m cold!”

Tucker gasped, clearly deeply offended. “Am I just a space heater to you?”

Danny snorted. “Duh. What else would you be - the man I love?”

Tucker chuckled, pressing another kiss to Danny’s forehead. “See, that’s what I thought I was. Are you telling me I’m not?”

“Obviously not,” Danny said with an over exaggerated eye roll. “You’re just the space heater and I’m the devilishly handsome superhero.”

“Oh come on, I’m not even the damsel in distress love interest in this fantasy of yours?”

“Fiiiiine,” Danny said, looking up at Tuck’s smiling face as they poked fun at each other. “I suppose you can be the damsel I save from the monsters.”

“Actually,” Tucker said, pulling away slightly, a thoughtful look on his face, “I have a better idea for my role.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

A smile crossed Tucker’s face and his eyes glinted, playfully, lovingly. “I was thinking I could be the man you marry,” he said.

Danny’s mouth dropped and he nodded ferociously, various sounds of agreement escaped his mouth as he failed to remember the word ‘yes’ in his excitement, when his ghost sense went off, and suddenly Ember and Skulker were there. Danny leapt from the bed, crouching defensively in front of Tucker (and being relieved he had actually pulled on pajamas after his shower last night).

“Ha, take that!” Ember said as Skulker pouted, crossing his arms in defeat. “Told you four eyes would be the one to propose!”

Danny glanced behind him, he and Tucker sharing confused looks.

“The whelp can take me on, but he’s too afraid to ask his boyfriend to marry him?” Skulker demanded. “I’m the Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter! If he’s brave enough to face me, he should fear nothing!”

Ember cackled. “You owe me five bucks!”

“Wait, hold up,” Tuck said, sitting up. “Did you two have a bet about mine and Danny’s relationship?”

“Duh. Half the Zone has some sort of wager! We better be invited to the wedding, pipsqueak.” Ember said, glaring at Danny, who was wondering how it was possible this was the actual life he lived, where semi-enemies made bets on love life.

“I haven’t actually answered yet, y’know,” Danny pointed out, turning back to Tucker, whose face went impressively pale.

Ember and Skulker both went silent behind him, Tucker just staring at him wide-eyed.

Danny grinned and shoved his hand intangibly into the apartment wall, pulling out a small box. “Was there any doubt my answer is yes?” He asked, opening the box to reveal a plain silver ring on the inside.

Tucker laughed and reached for the bedside table, moving aside a bunch of tech manuals and pulling out his own small box. He opened it and moved to show Danny the black band he’d bought. “No. No, I guess there really wasn’t.”

[pyrokineticmaniac]

imagine being young fintan. Imagine going from a powerful respected leader to a murderer in a day. having to deal with people so afraid of you they essentially outlaw your identity, all while you cant decide if you should hate them or agree with them. you messed with things that were never meant to be messed with. and you paid the price. your fellow prokinetics, your friends. they're gone. and you cant stop yourself from wishing you went with them, even when you know the guilt could break you into pieces that can never be put back together.

[rad-roche]

a big time saving thing i've started doing with comics is i filled a big 5000 x 5000 canvas entirely with that scratchy texturing i do and whenever i need a big block for a comic or panel and it doesn't have to be too detailed i just copy paste a wad in. who will know? well, everybody reading this. but what court in the land will convict me