#So uhhh small confession in the tags:

[baconcolacan]

Okay but how would small RTord react if he woke up in older RTords body. How would he react, to his army, to his soldiers, to his friends (that he doesnt see no longer) Tom imprisoned, strapped down and all that. He seemed a bit more..decent back then

Aaaahhh, you want to know how he was like before he escalated.

Mmm, well, since we’re talking about a kid who thinks what he’s doing is all harmless fun, and hasnt been desensitized to more harmful things yet (that he actively justified as he pushed the boundaries even more), I would say….horrified, maybe.

This kind of thing doesn’t seem all that fun, and Tom is clearly really hurt, sure he used to get into little scraps with him, but it was nothing a quick bandage couldn’t fix.

This….isnt fun anymore.

[freak-accident419]

playing cards

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | More parts coming soon

Summary: You and Derek prepare for the party. When the night finally came, it was up to the two of you to impress his mother.

Word Count: 4.3k

Content: gender neutral reader, swearing, shopping yay, Derek’s mommy issues, dancing hrngggg, fun banter

Ao3 Link

(A/n: thank you to everyone’s support! I wouldn’t have been able to do this fic without you all! Please comment if you want to be added to the tag list!! Reblogs, likes, comments, and kudos on Ao3 are highly appreciated! Love you all xx)

-

“Okay, so…” You began, gently chewing on the pen in your hand. “What is our stance on six months?”

“Too long, don’t you think?” Derek replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Hm. Yeah, maybe.”

The next day, you and Derek rejoined at your penthouse, lounging in your bedroom with index cards in your grasp. Together, you were coming up with your ‘backstory’ to make sure that the two of you were on the right page, especially if you were ever met with specific questions regarding your newfound relationship.

“How about just three months?” You finally suggested, looking up from the index cards to glance at Derek.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he shrugs casually, granting you to write it down.

You quickly scribbled on the notecard, littering the blank space with sloppy, black ink. “Alright, quick rundown,” you say abruptly, covering the thin stack of index cards with your hand. “Go.”

“Okay, uh… Three months ago, on the morning after a huge rager, I got a, um, really bad hangover, as one does. And you, being the best friend you were, took care of me and lectured me about my consequences or some kind of… self-righteous bullshit like that,” he recalled, trying to remember what the two had went over just now. “Uhhh… Soon after, you confessed your feelings for me, I told you they were reciprocated, and now we’re, like, fuckin’ dating or whatever.”

You raise an eyebrow with a slight grin. “Wow, that is actually completely correct. What are you, fuckin’ sober?” you chuckle softly, admittedly impressed with him. You flipped over and went through some of the other index cards until you stopped to stare at a specific one. “First date?” you challenge, looking back up at him.

You watched Derek’s expression turn into deep contemplation, noting how his eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. “It was, uh… fuck. It was… We… Wine tasting. Yeah. The wine tasting at, uh—”

“No, we actually scrapped that one, remember?” You remarked, shaking your head. “Your mom would never believe that, like, you’re way too immature for that shit—hell, I’m way too immature for that shit.”

“Right,” he huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck… Fuck. It was, uhh,” he snapped his fingers suddenly, conveying a triumphant epiphany, “Dinner! It was fuckin’ dinner, down at the, uh… the Mistral. That one restaurant on Columbus Avenue.”

You scoff lightly with a satisfied grin on your face. “Damn, you are a thousand percent correct again! Bonus points for remembering the place too.” You stacked the notecards neatly on the table. “Alright, and so everything from there on is just unscripted, plain bullshit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answers, nodding his head. “Okay, yeah. And—fuck—if anyone, like, asks either of us a question and we have to make up random shit on the spot, we have to update the other about it immediately, okay?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, that’s what the index cards are for,” you remark, lifting up the small stack to his view.

“You know, I don’t—I don’t understand, why can’t we just use, like, the fuckin’ Notes app or something?” he scoffs, raising an eyebrow.

“Science says you can memorize things more easily if you write them down,” you shrug with a slight pout.

He rolled his eyes and decided to dismiss it. “Okay, right, uhhh—Hey, what are you going to wear for the party?”

“Oh right, um, here,” you say, walking towards your closet and opening it up. You grabbed the outfit by the hanger, which was covered entirely by plastic after a luxurious dry cleaning, displaying it to Derek. “I was, uh, thinking of this.”

Derek’s expression, however, dropped. “What the hell is that?” He asked bluntly, looking at it with resentment.

“What’s—What’s what?” You ask with a baffled expression.

“You’re seriously not thinking of wearing that,” he huffs, glaring at you in disbelief.

“What—What’s wrong with it, I spent, like, a thousand dollars on it!” You exclaim, taking another glimpse of the clothing in your hand.

“That’s the thing, it’s not enough,” he grumbles, wiping downwards at his face with his palm.

You scoffed in utter confusion. “What?”

“Look, if we’ve been dating for three months, I would’ve already bought you a goddamn plethora of expensive shit. You need to wear something that’s at least, like, five to ten thousand bucks.”

“Seriously? Are you fucking serious?” You scoffed in frustration. “Look, no one’s—No one’s gonna even notice the fucking difference, y—”

“My mom might!” He interjects firmly. “Look, if we want to create the illusion that you and I are dating, we really have to fucking sell it, okay? I wouldn’t date someone who wears shit like… like that,” he gestures bitterly at the attire.

“You know what, fuck you! Are we seriously—?” You groaned, pinching your eyebrows together. “Derek. You literally fuckin’ dress like you’re in a goddamn midlife crisis and you’re not even close to pushing forty! Like, are you colorblind, what—what even is that?” You point towards his outfit, which was the revoltingly mix-matched clothing combo that somehow costed significantly more than your own damn paycheck.

Derek gaped in surprise at your insults as you proceeded on with your rant. “Well, news flash, fuckwad! Your mom also knows me very well, and she knows that I wouldn’t date a fuckin’ clown like you! So how about we both make a deal to improve our own clothing choices? What are—What are you even planning to wear to the party?”

“The uh…” Derek scratched at the back of his neck briefly, raising an eyebrow. “That one sage green suit of mine,” he replied stiffly.

“Hell no.”

“What—”

“Hell no! Are you serious? No!” You exclaim with a dark chuckle.

“Wh—” His face was quite priceless.

“No.”

“Fuck…” he sighs. “Fuck, fine.” Derek eyes your disapproving expression. “Fine. I’ll call the fuckin’ chauffeur and have him take us to Copley.”

***

Later on, the two of you arrived at the Copley Place, the posh Boston shopping center that you would frequently visit for most of your apparel. You were rich, indubitably, but not nearly as rich as Derek, of course. Before, you’ve made your money through several technician occupations in the form of job hopping, and it wasn’t until Derek took over Danforth Enterprises that he hooked you up with a seemingly long-term and high-paying job there. You’d been friends with him ever since your college years, after all. He wasn’t at all hesitant to help out his best friend. He was quite the selfish, greedy man, but he had his moments. Especially with you.

“This one,” Derek says, gesturing to an outfit that he found for you.

“Ew, no,” you grimace, nearly scowling at the sight of it. “It looks fuckin’ stupid.”

“What do you mean, it looks—? It looks great,” he retorted with a baffled expression.

“Well, of course you would say that,” you interject, “your fashion sense is fucking horrendous, it’s like you don’t even have one to begin with.”

Derek groaned impatiently at your tireless insults. “Jesus fuck.”

“You just need a reality check! That’s all I’m saying, dude,” you huff, proceeding to walk around further into the store. Suddenly, your eyes caught sight of a rather pleasing outfit, slightly rushing towards it. “Okay, how about this? I think it looks fine.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t look so against it. “How much is it?” He asked, eyeing it curiously.

“Uhh… Around six thousand,” you shrug after you had glanced at the label.

“Alright, good. Okay. Yeah, we’ll get it,” he nods in compliance. Finally, god damn.

“Will I get to keep it?” You ask with playful curiosity.

“Uh, if the night goes well, then sure,” he replied, “but if not, I’m returning it.”

You pouted.

Soon enough, the two of you were fishing for clothes for Derek, walking into each and every designer store at the Copley. He was excruciatingly picky and difficult to work with, but then again, it was nothing you weren’t used to.

You eye an elegant three-piece suit, the blackout appearance grabbing your attention. “I like this one,” you hum softly, “It’s all black—simple, classy, it looks nice.”

Derek examined the suit in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… It’s not really… me, though, is it?”

“Yeah, well… Isn’t that the whole point, though? Being the complete opposite of yourself, a changed person? Yeah, we don’t want you to be you tomorrow night,” you scoffed with a slight chuckle. “I think you should get it. And maybe, you’ll actually look very nice for once.”

“Y/n—”

“C’mon, dude. Isn’t the whole point of this is to impress your mom?” You point out.

“Well, yeah,” he grumbles, scratching lightly at his cheek.

“Then buy the suit, man! None of that fuckin’… crypto bro nonsense that makes her shit her pants,” you urge, chuckling softly.

Derek looks at you with a now serious and inquisitive expression. “Do you really think it’ll impress her?”

You cross your arms, looking at the suit once again. “She would cry tears of fuckin’ joy, man.”

He turned his head and looked at you, genuinely surprised at your answer. “You serious?”

You nodded with a cheeky grin. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Okay, fuck it… I’ll take it.”

***

The next day came by very fast. In the afternoon, you and Derek ‘rehearsed’ a couple of things, ensuring that the two of you were all set for this ridiculous stunt. Then you both went back to your homes to get ready for the party. It was a genuinely classy and elegant event, so you figured you would actually put effort in looking nice and presentable. Plus, you were attending the party in $6,000 clothing that Derek bought for you. You wanted to do it justice.

Later that evening, the two of you would regroup at Derek’s mansion. You met up with him outside of his estate by a black limo. And you found Derek’s expression to be quite curious once he practically gazed upon you; his eyes were wide and his lips were parted slightly in awe.

“Holy shit,” he scoffed amusedly, crossing his arms, “you actually clean up well.” He was shocked, to say the very least. He’s never seen you dress up like this, considering he’s only ever seen you in your casual, day-to-day outfits.

Ultimately, his reaction surprised you, making you pleasantly stunned. “Yeah? I could say the same thing about yourself. It’s nice to see you not wear a fuckin’ eye-straining suit for once,” you chuckle brashly, getting Derek to roll his eyes.

“Yeah?” He went inside of the car through the backseat doors as you followed promptly. “Well, don’t get used to it. I just have to pull off this stunt for one night and once my mom realizes I’m not that much of a reckless asshole, everything will be back to the way it was.”

You groaned with a slight, teasing smile on your face. “God, just at least let me enjoy this while it lasts.”

“You know—I don’t—I don’t fuckin’ get why you’re always being such a fucking hater!” He nearly laughs, mocking an offended tone. “I—All my assistants respect my fashion choices, they’ve said it themselves, you just have no fuckin’ taste!”

“You know, have you ever considered that they’re just saying that because you’re the one paying them?” You smirk playfully.

“You’re a dick,” he chuckles gently, shoving your shoulder lightly. “You’re a fuckin’ dick, you know that?”

Later on, the two of you arrived at the venue. It was a refined and impressively massive establishment, in which you later actually recognized as part-art museum. Exiting the vehicle, you stood beside Derek at the front of the entrance, glancing at all the other wealthy people walking in.

“Hold onto my arm,” he directs in a mutter.

“Ew,” you scoff.

“Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes as you gave in, holding onto his arm as you walked into the building together. It was a bit crowded, occupied with older people in elegant getups; gentlemen in respectable suit and ties, women in sparkly dresses, et cetera, et cetera. The interior of the venue was spacious and exceptionally sophisticated, consisting of dignified architecture with the ceiling littered with expensive chandeliers. It definitely was not Derek’s scene, but it wasn’t even yours either.

“Shit. I forgot how pretentious your mother’s parties were,” you mumbled to him as the two of you walked further into building.

“What, did you forget that she’s the fucking President of the entire country too?” He retorted, which made you punch him lightly in the side with your free hand, making you grin once you saw his pained reaction.

“Dick,” you grumble. “Hey, where’s your mom?” You ask, trying to look past the crowd.

“I don’t know, she’ll turn up eventually,” he says, guiding you to a rather secluded spot against the wall. Suddenly remembering the whole purpose of this event, you weren’t sure when the actual auction would begin. But then again, you weren’t sure if you even cared.

“Oh shit, Nathaniel and Ophelia are here,” Derek interjects, pointing to a familiar pair across the room.

“Huh… Hey, why are you friends with them again? Didn’t you say they were, like, pretentious douchebags?” You remarked, looking at the said couple, who were drinking champagne and chatting at the opposite wall.

“Not friends, just, like… I don’t know, my mom wanted me to be in a good social circle, so she introduced me to them a few months back,” he shrugged. “But they’re just irritating, arrogant fucking pricks.”

“And you’re not?” He glared at you as you smirked. “You know, I don’t know if this is wrong of me to say, but… I really can’t tell if they’re siblings or dating,” you confess, squinting your eyes at them.

“Right? Like, I swear to fucking god, I thought I was the only one!” Derek exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Like, fuck, I’ve met up with them so many times in the past, but I still don’t fucking remember which one it is!”

The two of you cackled together as you observed the pair from across the room. “Oh shit, imagine if it’s just a whole Alabama situation,” you suggested, snickering towards Derek.

“God, that would be fucking terrible. Though, it would definitely explain the matching blue eyes,” he laughs. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting to find dirt on those two, they are fucking infuriating.”

“Jesus, it’s the whole Toad and Toadette debate all over again,” you chuckle softly.

“What?” He looks back at you curiously.

“What?”

“Toad and Toadette, it’s confirmed they’re dating,” Derek claimed.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? No, no, I could’ve sworn I read somewhere that they were siblings.”

“Uh, no, the creator himself said that they were girlfriend-boyfriend,” he remarks.

“Wh—Dude! All this time, I thought they were siblings!” You exclaimed, placing your hands on your head in shock.

“Yeah, well, they aren’t. You said you read it somewhere, what was it, fuckin’ Reddit?” He scoffed brashly with a cheeky grin.

“No. Fuck off,” you retort, frowning. “If anything, you’re the one on fucking Reddit, like, 24/7.”

“What? No—”

“Looking at ‘r/Crypto’ and ‘r/Nudes’, you ‘r/Dickhead’,” you teased, smirking playfully.

“Oh, fuck off—”

“Derek.”

Your pretend boyfriend’s speech freezes and you could see him tense up slightly at the mere voice of his mother. You noticed her in a stunning, carmine dress, her blonde hair pairing very well with it. Red was definitely her color. She glanced at Derek and then at you, a bit surprised. “And Y/n. I didn’t know you’d be joining us this evening.”

She looked back at her son. “You look very nice tonight, Derek, I’m very glad you were able to make it.” She then raises an interrogating eyebrow. “So, will your date be arriving here anytime soon?”

Derek eyes his mother, chuckling awkwardly. You felt like you were going to cringe at his next words, knowing what they would be. “Actually, Mom, uh… The date that I spoke to you on the phone about is actually… my partner, Y/n.”

And you did—inside, at least.

Jessica’s eyes widened as she looks back at you again. She knew you as Derek’s best friend—hell, his best friend since college. You didn’t work at Danforth Enterprises until she made Derek the CEO, resulting in him offering a job to you. But most of all, you and Derek had been strictly platonic friends for years, and it shocked her to her core to find out about this. “Seriously? You and… When did… When did this happen?”

“Well, you see, uh,” you began, playing with your fingers as you tried to recall everything you wrote and memorized on the index cards, “there was always—there was always something there, you know? Don’t you—don’t you think? Well, uh, one day, your son was very, um, hungover, and I stayed to take care of him.”

“They, uh,” Derek interrupted, chiming in. “That was, like, three months ago, right? Three, and um, they confessed their apparent romantic feelings towards me. You—you know, it was a very vulnerable moment, and I reciprocated… and yeah, now we’re dating.” He then stuttered out, “We, uh, we wanted to keep it under wraps for a while, but now, we figured we should… tell everyone now.”

And if it weren’t for that stupid, phony grin on his face, maybe she would have bought it. Though actually, you couldn’t really tell if she was convinced or not. There was a look of curiosity in her expression, paired with deep contemplation. You felt like you could detect doubt, but even that could be mixed up with bewilderment.

“Wow, uh… I wouldn’t say I expected this at all,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Then she looked at you with a small smile. “So you’ve been keeping my son on his toes if I’ve heard correctly, yes?”

You nod, glancing at Derek then back at her. “That’s right, ma’am. Uh, we all know his reputation, but, um… You know, ever since we started dating, he felt the urge to become a better person. And so did—so did I,” you remarked, remembering how Jessica also knew you as quite the trouble maker. After all, she caught the two of you getting high at another party before, similar to the sophistication of this one.

She was intrigued, to say the least. And suddenly, you had an epiphany: you just realized that what you were doing was deceiving the President of the United States. Fuck Derek, man.

“And that trending video of him?” You began, “That was taken, uh, three months ago during a party. It was actually the night before we started dating,” you explained, observing her reaction. “Why is everyone posting it now? Well, you see, uh…”

Fuck.

Fuck, you forgot. Did you seriously forget? Shit. What the hell was the reason?

She was looking at you expectedly. Fuck. What the fuck are you going to say? How did you forget something so simple?

“That video was taken on one of those digital cameras,” Derek butt in immediately. “The storage card was lost for a while, but I guess somebody found it and posted it, and now everybody’s reposting it.”

What. The. Fuck.

You were way more of an organized person than Derek. How the hell did he remember the lie that you wrote down, but you didn’t?

Nevertheless, Jessica nodded, a seemingly neutral expression plastered on her face. “That’s relieving to hear,” she hums softly, “well, I know that you aren’t really into these charity events, Derek, but—”

“Actually,” he began with a charming grin, “I think I will be participating in the auction this evening.” Way to go, Derek.

She looked at him in awe, glancing at you for a while, then back at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nods pridefully. “I think this is a great cause, Mom.” Wow, he is killing it.

“O-oh. That’s wonderful of you to say, Derek. Well, this entire event is a gala and charity auction, so feel free to help yourselves in the drinks and food. There’s also dancing, but I know you aren’t—”

“I, uh, actually,” he chimes in once again. Jesus Christ, it was like she was testing him. “I would, uh… love to dance with my partner.” Your eyes widened as you felt the both of you cringe at his own response.

“Oh.” Suddenly, there was a small, genuine smile that creeped up on her lips. And you could tell that Derek noticed it too, because his face had just… softened. “Well, I hope you two enjoy the night.” She cupped Derek’s face with one hand and kissed the top of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” he mutters softly.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“I am so proud of you.” Then she walked away to greet other people, disappearing in the tame crowd.

You noticed Derek’s widened eyes and chuckled softly to yourself at the sight.

“Holy shit…” he mumbled before lighting up. “Did you—Did you hear that? She said she was fucking proud of me. She’s never said that in, like, a long fucking time, or ever! Holy—holy fucking shit.”

“Congrats, man,” you grinned warmly. “But like… the dancing thing. I can’t fucking dance. I mean, you know that.”

“It’s easy, don’t worry,” he dismissed, getting two glasses of champagne from a caterer that just walked by, handing one of them to you. “Just copy what I do.”

You took a rather long sip of the champagne. Liquid courage, you figured. “I just… You know, I really don’t want to do it. We can—We can just say I got sick from one of the little gourmet shits and I can’t dance.”

“Y/n—C’mon, you heard my mom. She was proud of me. She’ll be even prouder when she sees me out there, dancing like a sophisticated, pretentious prick, like the other fucks here. Come on, Y/n. Please,” he pleaded, looking at you with utter desperation.

“I—I don’t understand, she did say she was proud of you. I’m sure you won’t have to worry about her cutting you off anymore since she’s seen that you ‘changed’,” you reason, raising an eyebrow.

“No—Y/n, Y/n, I’m hanging on by a fucking thread right now. She sees us dancing, she’ll be a hundred percent sure that I’ve ‘changed for the better’ and won’t take any drastic measures. Y/n, please.” You knew your best friend well. And you knew damn well that this wasn’t just about the money and being cut off. He wanted to please his mother, he needed to.

You groaned, rolling your eyes as you downed the remaining champagne in your glass. You pointed at his face with aggression. “I’m raising the damn price to one thousand, then. You know how much I can’t stand dancing.”

“Yeah, whatever, that’s fine with me,” he shrugs, then eyes you gently. “Thank you.”

It was no surprise to you that you would instantly regret saying yes to him.

“Ow—Fuck—Stop—stop stepping on my fucking toes,” Derek snarled as the two of you were in an embrace, your hands clasped together while your other hand was placed on your shoulder and his on your waist. Sophisticated, slow jazz music played in the background as you were surrounded by other people who, not surprisingly, danced better than the two of you.

“I fuckin’ warned you, didn’t I?” You scoffed in response, trying to move your feet correctly.

“Whatever, just… Is she—Is she watching us?” He mutters, looking at the crowd behind you.

“Umm, I don’t know, I don’t know where she is,” you reply, searching the room for the woman in the red dress.

“Ow—Goddammit, Y/n, keep your fucking feet to yourself!” He winces, giving you an angry glare.

“Fuck! It’s not my fault, dude, I already warned you!” You retort petulantly. “Where—Where did you even learn to dance, huh?”

“When I was younger. I had to take ballroom classes. I came from a rich family, you know, we had status, a reputation to uphold,” he explained, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh shit—I can see her, she’s in the crowd,” you say abruptly.

“Where?” Derek’s eyes suddenly widened as he looked at you with anticipation.

“Like, behind you. I think she’s talking to—Oh shit, she’s watching us now,” you say, glancing at Jessica from far across the room, watching the two of you dance.

“Fuck, okay. Okay… I’m gonna dip you,” he mutters.

What?

“What?!” You exclaimed.

“I’m just gonna dip you, earn us some more brownie points,” he figures.

“No! Fuck! No, no fucking way! Do not—do not fuckin’ dip me!” You warned furiously, feeling your face heat up.

“I’m gonna do it.”

“No! Fuck! Derek, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god, I will—I will put cyanide in your bourbon, you will never see the light of fucking day, I—”

You felt his hand reach towards your back as he kicked at your ankle, making you lose balance and fall back towards his hand. You frown at him as you see his cocky face above you until he brought you back up.

“I hate you,” you murmured.

“It’s not a big deal, dude, it—ow!”

“I did that on purpose,” you huff after you had stepped harshly on his foot.

“How does my mom look?” He asked.

“She’s…” you raise an eyebrow, then looked back at Derek warmly. “She’s crossing her arms and smiling at us. She looks really proud. Jesus, for the first time in her fucking life.”

Derek smiled to himself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Oh, by the way, just for that little stunt you did back there, I’m raising it to fifteen hundred.”

“Fine with me,” he shrugs, now holding your hand in a looser grip. He guided it above your head, stretching your arm upward to spin you gracefully before bringing you back to him.

“God, I can’t wait to break up with you,” you chuckle softly, your movements more trained and fluid.

“Oh yeah?” He scoffs at your remark, laughing briefly, “Me too.”

[enam3l]

love, lola / chapter nine pt.1 / going solo (5.7k)

Eddie’s arrived in California, leaving you behind, to start his new life as a rockstar.

thank you for 1.2k of you kind angels!!!??? and thank you guys for your patience, life has been hectic with work and school and after the anniversary of eddie’s death (but not in this fic baby) i thought fuck it imma post what we got for chapter 9 - I hope it’ll all be worth the wait

a/n: sex drugs and rock and roll - no fr there is graphic sex here

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

California is too fucking hot. That is what Eddie Munson has learnt since moving. Far too hot for hair like his and definitely far too hot to stay hidden behind the safety of his leather jacket. After years of the mind numbing mundanity of Hawkins, Eddie was propelled into the fast pace L.A. mindset. Each morning for a moment his heart hammered, wondering where he was until the palm trees outside the window reminded him it definitely wasn't Indiana. The apartment the record label had set him and rest of Kraven up in was definitely not the trailer - maybe the size of every single one in the park combined.

So far, everyone had been nice; a niceness you're not usually privy to when you're known as 'The Freak'. Kraven were excited he accepted the offer and their label and manager had heralded him the hero of the hour. But a nagging part of Eddie couldn't ignore the feeling that this wasn't really his band, he was a replacement. There was a brotherhood between the bandmates long before his arrival and it's hard to ever truly assimilate with a bond like that. Regardless, he was there, escaped the confines of his small town and now living the dream of becoming a rockstar. This was always the fantasy, wasn't it?

September 2nd 1986

For the first time in his life, Eddie is sat in a real life, high tech, actual recording studio. A far cry from Gareth’s egg box insulated garage. An egg shaped chair swallows him whole which feels tediously symbolic of his time so far in California. Everything is much bigger than him. As the band and producers play him the demos they have already, with hopeful looks on their faces, he resorts to anxiously twisting the rings on his fingers. They're a tangible reminder of home. He thumbs them in order. Skull. Pig. Cross and bones. Mom's. But now there's a new edition - yours. 

It made its way onto his finger as you said your final goodbyes in the airport terminal and it hasn't left since. Between runny noses and weepy eyes, Eddie frowned as you withdrew from a hug that had already lasted several minutes (which was still not long enough). 

'I have something for you, Teddy,' you confess as you sift through your bag. 

'You already threw the party, sweetheart. Whatcha wasting money on me for?' He sighs. 

The protests were not what you wanted clearly as he's met with a silencing finger until you finally found what you were looking for. Now you chew your lip anxiously, fumbling with a little velvet pouch. 

'It's not for going away... it's - well, I gathered, this will be the first time since we met that we've not spent our birthdays together...' 

Eddie's stomach drops, he had not gathered that. 'Oh...' he murmurs.

'So, I thought I'd give you your present now. I guess. If that's okay?' 

Totally thrown, he only blinked and nodded. Taking his hand, you lay his palm out flat and shake the pouch until Eddie hears a little clinking, then feels cool metal on the skin. 

'It's the big 2-1, y'know. I wanted us to have something special. I couldn't think of anything to buy. But, I - uhhh - I could think of something to make.' 

Finally, he moves and inspects your gift closer. Two silver rings, perfectly imperfect. Carefully, he spins them round until he can finally see what the feature of them is. It causes him to gasp and you to resort to nervously stumbling over your words. 

'I was taking a silversmithing class at college and I was thinking about your rings and then I thought I could make you one. Then I thought I could make us some. Matching ones. For our birthdays. It's silly. They're not professional or anything. Y'know a little wonky. Just thought it'd be nice...'

Eddie balls his fist up, clutching the precious contents and closes his eyes to swallow up a sniffle. One ring has E for Eddie on, the other identical except for your initial. 

'Wonky? Y/N... they're perfect. This is, holy shit, this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me...'

The compliment makes your insides fizz. 

'Are you sure? I mean, I was gonna tidy them up more but when you were in hospital. When I went back to New York... I brought them back with me. Just incase... y'know...'

Just incase Eddie never made it to his 21st is the unspoken ending to that sentence that you both understand. Eddie takes your hands in his and squeezes. The rings shielded by your conjoined palms. 

'Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you... put it on me! Go on! Make me your little hand model m!'

As usual, Eddie's theatrics ease the tension and force you into giggles. 

Carefully, you slide the E ring over Eddie's finger. He prompts you to place it on the bare one next to where his Mom's old ring resides. Then, he takes your hand and delicately places your own ring onto the matching finger. To the rest of the people in the airport, it must've looked like the exchanging of vows between two lovers being forced apart. Really, they wouldn't have been entirely incorrect. 

‘So what do you think man?’

Eddie breaks his daze to be met with a room of hopeful eyes. 

‘Huh?’ He murmurs. 

‘The demos!’ The manager Chris encourages, ‘for the album! These are what the guys have put down so far. Love em?’

Eddie’s brain stumbles over what will be the correct thing to say. The songs bad? God no, there was a reason the bad were signed. But were they what he would do? Not really. It was clear they were angling as more commercially marketable, less niche like metal, a more digestible rock. Taylor was more Iggy than Ozzy. 

‘Yeah, yeah they’re tight,’ Eddie scrambles, praying he didn’t appear rude. 

Already though, his brain has calculated how he would rearrange each element of the songs, what lyrics he’d tweak, how he’d make it his own - but he has to remind himself that’s not why he’s here.

‘We want a single out for Christmas. Make a big splash over the festive season. Hit the talk shows, the radios. Get you boys out there. Build up the hype for a Valentine’s album release,’ Chris cheerfully continues.   

‘But don’t forget, none of these songs are finalised,’ a rough voice from the corner of the room interrupts Chris’ ambitions. 

Riz, the producer, sits like the mastermind behind the console in his swivel chair. His skin weathered and tanned, littered with scribbled tattoos not unlike Eddie’s own. Tired eyes that have seen too many young ambitious bands and their teams come in and out of his studio, are concealed by thin tinted glasses. A mane of salt and pepper curls, some formed into dreads cascade past his broad shoulders. A real old school rocker. 

‘Oh well, yes, yes of course,’ Chris fumbles, ‘plenty of room for your inputs Eddie.’ 

It’s clear Chris is entirely intimidated by Riz’s presence. His clean cut Armani suited self a direct contrast to the producer’s rough look. One is the face, the other is the real brains.

‘Speaking of, Chris, why don’t you take Taylor, Spike and Keith to lunch. Use that gold card the label bestowed upon you whilst me and Eddie get accompanied?’

Eddie shoots round to look at Riz, used to his name being called out as the signal he’s in trouble. But when he meets his eyes, they only offer warmth and a small smirk; something Eddie had yet to see him crack so far. 

‘Oh are you sure?’

‘Yeah, yeah, lots of technical things I need to adjust now Eddie is with his. Go on,’ Riz practically shoos Chris out the door. The rest of Kraven following suit, amused by their manager’s nervous babbling. 

Finally, once the door is shut and locked, Riz returns to his throne, spinning round and looking at Eddie expectantly. 

‘Well, come on then,’ he chuckles, smacking his tattooed hand against a leather chair beside him. Eddie immediately scrambles over, Sweetheart safely in her case towing behind him. There’s an awkward silence as Eddie toys with his guitar case, desperate to avoid Riz’s piercing gaze. 

Nonchalantly, Riz swings his feet up onto a nearby stool and reclines in his chair. 

‘So… you hate the songs,’ he chuckles.

Eddie finally looks up to gawp, scrambling for a response. 

‘No, I don’t, it’s not, I never said I-‘

‘It’s cool brother. You’re a metalhead. They aren’t a metal band. They’re not your first choice, no sweat.’ 

Riz, in just a few minutes of knowing each other, has called Eddie’s bluff. The tone in his voice is not anger or judgment, it’s just matter of fact with a hint of amusement. 

‘They’re not my first choice either, sound wise. I’m a lot more old school myself, personally. But, fuck, you know what, those boys got more star power than anyone else who’s been brought to me in the last two decades.’ 

Eddie nods eagerly. There’s a reason he was honoured Kraven had asked him, they were really fucking good and most surprisingly - nice. Riz eyes the boy before him, big brown soulful eyes that scream there’s a story behind them. 

‘I think you’re an old soul like me though, Munson. Let me guess… you’ve got notebooks full of lyrics in that case of yours?’

A beetroot blush flushes Eddie’s cheeks, he’s been rumbled and stutters an agreement. 

‘And I bet you’ve never shown anyone either, huh?’

Two for two. 

‘No, never. They’re all a little… personal,’ Eddie murmurs. 

‘All the best stuff is. So what you’re gonna do is get them out and show me who the musician Eddie Munson really is.’

With an eagle eye, Riz combs through the tattered pages of scrawling lyrics. Words dating back years. The afternoon flies by as Eddie demonstrates the melodies he wrote for each with Riz adding his own input. 

‘Well, Munson. I don’t think Kraven or the label know what they’ve accidentally come across with you,’ Riz scoffs. His fingers gloss over the stacks of song lyrics Eddie’s unveiled. 

‘And you better be marrying this girl you’re writing about. Ain’t heard love songs like this in a lifetime.’ 

The way Eddie nervously shrinks in on himself over his words isn’t lost on Riz, things rarely ever are. 

September 21st 1986

‘TWENTY ONE MOTHERFUCKER’ 

Raucous laughter and cheers manage to erupt over the booming club music. The fine spray of champagne, more expensive than his trailer, soaking Eddie’s curls. The women that had crowded the booth, struggle to get in the stream of booze. Liquid gold dripping from their open mouths and exposed cleavage. No, this was not the usual Munson birthday set up.

Despite attempting to keep his twenty-first birthday a secret, Eddie had been rumbled. Chris’ assistant Sammy had discovered his impending celebration after going through files. That was spilt during bedroom talk with Spike the bass player who she’d been hooking up with. Spike then mentioned a small night with the boys to Taylor and Keith to celebrate, which was overheard by manager Chris. So now due to Chris’ inability for subtlety, the boys found themselves in an exclusive WeHo club, surrounded by bottomless bottles, scantily clad girls and yes men - all courtesy of the label. Eddie was light years away from where he’d usually spend his evenings round humble drama room DnD table or with lukewarm beers in Gareth’s garage.

After three weeks of locking themselves in the studio when the sun had begun to rise, only leaving well after, the band were finally letting loose. The guys had all told Eddie their tales of L.A’s debaucherous rock’n’roll night life; the secret places where other musicians mingled, where dealers made their money and girls got the memorable nights they went looking for. But so far, he’d yet to experience it and now he was, Eddie wasn’t sure it was for him. A rainbow of pills scattered the table without discretion, he could tell they were far better quality than the shit he used to sell. Servers came with an endless supply of bottles, money no question. A far cry from the gruff, stingy bartenders at The Hideout. The clientele is a far cry as well. The girls that had flocked to their booth looked straight off a Hollywood set. One busty blonde sat on a bewildered Chris’ knee, his eyes desperately trying not to focus on the cleavage that bobbed below his chin. Spike was making it clear he and Sammy weren’t exclusive as a brunette and a redhead sat either side of him as they purred in his ear. Taylor had disappeared into the crowd, ever the life of the party, surely feeling the effects of the pills he’d let fizzle on his tongue. Out of everyone, the only person Eddie felt envious of was Keith. 

Nestled happily in the corner of the booth sat Keith and his fiancee Grace, lost in their own little world. The pair had scoffed when a girl had tried to luck with Keith, knowing hell would freeze over before he left Grace. High school sweethearts who had made it work as he’d followed the path of wannabe rockstar. She was no eager groupie or ditzy model, Grace was a lawyer; officially Kraven’s lawyer. Put together, fierce and completely soft on Keith - reminding Eddie of you. Although, they were a real couple, best friends and lovers, exactly what Eddie had failed in making the two of you. When they whispered private jokes or sleepy appeared from their bedroom, his heart panged with envy. Mind racing with questions of how they managed to make it work. Who made the first move? How did they know it was mutual? How did they know it wasn’t a mistake? All the questions he fretted over when his lips burnt with desperation to meet yours.

Eddie’s wishful gaze is interrupted by a sudden touch to his thigh. Eyes wide with confusion, his head spins round and are met with a fluttering pair staring right back at him. The stranger’s fingers tucking rogue curls behind his ear causes Eddie to freeze. A touch too intimate to receive from anyone but you or his family. 

‘Your hair is nearly as long as mine,’ the girl drawls. Long nails still trailing up his shredded jeans and now up his exposed bicep. Whether she hadn’t noticed Eddie’s bewildered look or had just chosen to ignore it, the girl pressed on.

‘The boys told me you're the new lead guitar… I think you’re definitely an upgrade, honey.’

Eddie gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. So far he had been able to avoid interacting with these legendary California girls. Throwing himself into rehearsals with the band and his own late sessions with Riz long after the rest of the guys go home. Women weren’t on his radar. Everyone dull in comparison to the shine he knows radiates off you. 

‘Urm, thanks,’ he mumbles, trying to squirm out of her grasp.

‘And he’s a little shy?’ She giggles, ‘sooo cute.’  

Eddie’s eyes, wide like saucers, scan the surroundings rapidly, desperate to escape this uncomfortable encounter. He wasn’t interest in a hook up, the thought unimaginable and he definitely didn’t want this. He’s desperate for you more than ever now, wishing for your soft touch, wishing it was your tipsy words being whispered in his ear. His birthdays weren’t for sharing with random hookups, they were always reserved for you. After being separated by your college, Eddie was giddy at the thought of getting to spend your birthdays together again. But now you were torn apart again, now even further apart. 

Finally, Eddie spots his opening. The girl leans over to the table to pour another drink, her grip on him loosening. Quickly, he darts up, hopping over everyone’s legs and abandoning the booth as the girl calls after him. Eddie’s feet seem to take him away before his mind is even sure where he wants to go. Hand’s planting on the bar top, causing an unexpecting bartender to jump, Eddie pleas,

‘Is there a phone anywhere I can use?’

The bartender nods, finger jabbing to a corridor beside the toilets. Shouting a thanks behind him, Eddie shoots off in the direction of the promised phones. 

Frantically, he punches in a number he’s known by heart for most of his life. Ringed fingers twist round the cord anxiously and the dial tone hums over the vibrations of the club’s speakers. 

Eddie’s breath hitches as the other end picks up and fumbling can be heard. 

‘H-hello?’ Your sleepy voice croaks. 

It’s the best noise he’s heard since he arrived, better than anything he’s heard in the studio. 

‘Hi,’ he whispers shyly, ‘it’s me, it’s Eddie. I’m sorry, did I wake you?’

Your giggle makes his stomach churn. 

‘I know it’s you, Eds or should I say birthday boy? No, no, it’s okay. I was already awake.’

‘Are you okay? Are you sick?’ He enquires desperately. For a moment, Eddie is sure he hears a hesitation in your voice. 

‘No, no, I - urm, you know, just one of those nights. I’m fine! It’s nice to hear your voice.’

Eddie for once is grateful for the distance that separates you for seeing the blush that spreads across his cheeks. 

‘It’s really nice to hear yours too. I’m sorry I’ve not been keeping up with the calls, it’s all just -‘

You interrupt before he falls into a spiral of apologies. 

‘Eds, it’s fine! You’re a rockstar in training, I don’t expect you to be missing all the fun to be calling me every second.’

‘But, I want to, sweetheart… I wish you were here,’ he sighs. 

‘I wish I was too… but this your adventure. This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.’ 

Eddie desperately wants to let the alcohol coursing through his system to take ahold of his tongue and confess no, you’re everything I’ve dreamed of. But he doesn’t. Your voice chirps up again, trying to dispel the sad silence that took over the line. 

‘So, how’s your birthday? How is being 21? Are you not out and drowning in booze and those Cali girls?’ You’re chuckling but he doesn’t laugh. 

‘No, no I’m out with the guys. But, urm, no Cali girls. Definitely not.’

Eddie’s not sure if you let out a relieved sigh or it’s just wishful thinking. 

‘You’re out?! Eddie, what on earth are you calling me for!’

Your scolding tone makes him grin. He can picture perfectly how your brows are furrowed and how if you were in front of him your hands would be flailing animatedly. 

‘Cos birthdays are our thing. You’re much better than this club full of fuckin’ posers.’

‘Yeah, they are. Am I now? Are you trying to flatter me, mister?’ 

‘Always, sweetheart.’ 

The pair of you giggle down the phone. His dimpled cheeks aching from the grin you inspire. As the giggles finally subside, Eddie hears you attempt to disguise a yawn and remembers how once again distance keeps you apart. 

‘Guess I should let you get to sleep then, huh sweet?’

‘You should go and enjoy your birthday more importantly!’

Eddie huffs, knowing such a thing is impossible without your presence. 

‘I’ll try… I’ll speak to you soon, promise.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Eds. Whenever you have time!’ 

‘I’ll always have time for you. I’ll make sure I at least call you on your birthday.’

‘You better,’ you sleepily smirk, ‘it’s two days after yours, you’ve got no excuse to forget.’

‘How could I?’

Eddie rakes a hand through his curls, knowing he needs to hang up but it’s too hard to let you go. 

‘Get some sleep, sweetheart. I miss you.’

‘Goodnight Eddie, I miss you too.’ 

The line goes dead and once again the only sound filling his ears is the throbbing base. Trying to replay your words in his head, Eddie flops against the wall. Eyes closed tight as he wishes it was you he was breathing in rather than the cloud of perfume wafting from the women’s bathroom nearby.

It’s only when he can feel a presence beside him does Eddie open his eyes. A woman mirrors his position against the wall but faces him, a wicked glint in her cat-like eyes. Taken aback by her close proximity, Eddie jumps causing her to giggle at his squirming.

‘Whatcha waiting for cutie?’

Eddie continues to shuffle away, the phone your warm voice once echoed out of, now uncomfortably sticking into his back.

‘Was just… just using the phone…’ he murmurs nervously.

‘Oh?’ she cocks her head, auburn waves tumbling, ‘and here I thought you were waiting out here for some fun.’

A slender manicured finger reaches out, tugging at a bewildered Eddie’s bottom lip. He stutters as his brain scrambles for a response. Another awkward round of full frontal flirting from random girls. The thought of supermodel groupies throwing themselves at him was somewhat appealing when he was a raging hormone of a teenager. But even then, you were still in the back of his mind on a pedestal, now you live there front and centre. Eddie recoils from her touch, swatting her hand away.

‘No!’ he surprises himself with the firmness in his voice, ‘M’sorry, not looking for anything.’

The girl scoffs a ‘whatever’, rolling her eyes and flouncing off. Just as Eddie finally feels his body relax, a snigger from the corner catches his attention. A frame steps forward from the shadows. 

A man, also in his twenties, grins an infectious smile that makes Eddie feel a little giddy. Shorter than himself, but broader, tanned muscles that glistened with sweat from dancing.

‘I think she’s a little disappointed,’ the guy chuckles.

‘I really was just using the phone!’ Eddie insists.

Gradually the two move closer towards each other, Eddie drawn in by the piercing pale eyes that never leave him. Despite the corridor being much cooler than the dance floor, heat bubbled between their bodies. 

‘So… Eddie, are you definitely not looking for any kind of fun?’

October 31st 1986

Now in the depths of autumn, the madness of life had only increased. Kraven had found their sound with the addition of Eddie, days spent mastering their sound in the studio. When out of the studio, the boys sat round meeting tables listening to suits spew corporate jargon about their mastermind ideas for selling the band. That was his least favourite part, hearing his existence and passion whittled down to money making schemes. It’s also where Eddie was forced to tackle the idea of fame. Seeing his name in small print under photographs of the band, plastered in pages of music magazines about the next hot thing. Personally, he found it mortifying but Wayne insisted it was proof of him achieving his dreams, whereas you cackled down the phone at the surrealness of it all.

At the end of the day, Eddie buried himself in sheets of paper, attempting to put into words the feelings that brewed inside. Trying to heal the internal wounds the events of the year had left, whilst being a thousand miles from the people who actually understood. Vocalising the sadness he wished he didn’t feel over achieving his dreams of making it but not with his own band. Then as ever, trying to find an outlet for the love he felt for you that bubbled with fervency in your absence and 

with every stolen phone call. Then, a couple of times a week, Eddie would present his lyrics to Riz to make sense of, during after-hours at the studio. A secret project the two of them found themselves falling into outside of Kraven. That was another source of guilt, that his heart and soul weren’t invested in the band in the same way Taylor, Spike and Keith’s were. That he reserved the heartfelt work for himself, letting his real passion erupt during the late night sessions with Riz. 

Then there was another output Eddie found for his pent up frustrations about his overwhelming emotions and suffocating new lifestyle. A way to let go in a way that didn't leave him ashamed as if he had betrayed you. The guy at the club on his 21st birthday had opened up possibilities that Hawkins had limited. Small town life was oppressive, he didn’t need the rumour mill buzzing with fresh stories that the satanist Munson was also a sodomist. Whilst Taylor and Spike drowned in girls, Eddie became comfortable seeking out something else in the bars and clubs they’d frequent. It was easier, less intimate. He didn’t need to worry about coy teasing, didn’t need to exchange names and take girls home. Eddie could find release down the back of another guy's throat, quick and hot in dark corners and back allies. He was unsure if his bandmates had realised and was anxious that they’d reject him for it but that was another issue forced to the back of his mind, stored in another box overflowing with anxieties. 

Halloween was decided as a good marketing angle for the band. Their name added to the line up of hot new rock bands performing at an infamous West Hollywood Halloween party. Something thrown by a record executive’s tabloid covering daughter that had become notorious enough to be spoken about on MTV. Eddie being no stranger to a costume and outlandishness being second nature to Taylor, the pair had put themselves in charge of putting together the band’s costume. 

‘This is pretty hardcore you guys,’ Spike admitted, ‘didn’t think you’d pull it off.’

The four cramped into a backstage room at the venue, getting ready for their performance. Eddie’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he finished painting Spike’s body. All four of them were skeletons. Leather trousers and boots embellished with white paint, creating the illusion when on stage they were void of flesh. Their torsos mostly exposed aside from frankly decorative scraps of leather. Spike in long leather sleeves that covered wrist to arm and left the entirety of his chest exposed. Eddie and Keith both in tight leather waistcoats. Then Taylor, naturally, entirely topless aside from some leather wrist cuffs and mask that made him appear as a devilish gimp. All exposed skin had bones painted on top which was now Eddie’s current job. 

‘Of course we did,’ Taylor boasts, ‘you really doubted our little DnD nerd’s ability to put together a costume?’

Eddie splatters paint in the singer's direction. Even if they weren’t his friends from home, his band mates had become real friends. Their bantering is interrupted by the door opening and a fallen angel with a clipboard appearing. 

‘You guys gotta be outta here in like a minute, the band on stage are wrapping up and you’re next.’ Her sentence is finished with a pop of her bubble gum and the slam of the door.

After final adjustments to the costumes, the boys file out to the side of the stage. Eddie’s chipped black nails gripping at the neck of his guitar. The usual pre-show jitters causing his stomach to flutter. 

‘You good brother?’ Keith whispers, a reassuring firm hand bracing Eddie’s shoulder. 

‘Yeah, yeah, all cool, I mean y’know aside from usual pre-show nerves,’ he shrugs. Keith nods with understanding, spinning his sticks - a nervous tick Eddie has come to notice. 

‘Damn, you better at this fuckin rockstar shit than me. My heart feels like it’s about to fall out my god damn asshole knowing who’s in that audience!’

Quirking an eyebrow, Eddie warily responds,

‘What do you mean… who’s here?’

Keith’s eyes bulge at his bandmate’s obliviousness. 

‘Holy shit, you got no gossip rags in that little town of yours? This party is infamous. It’s some real Motley Crue as shit out there. Full of rockstars fuckin heiresses n shit! Little Miss Clipboard said mother fucking Slash is here!’

Before Eddie can even clear his now dry throat to respond, the sound system booms with the excited announcement of the MC.

‘Next up is rock’s hottest new band… Kraven!’

The cheers are muddled by the ringing in Eddie’s ears, his body seized up until Spike nudges him along. With a gulp, he steps out into the spotlight, trusty axe in one hand whilst the other spins the ring you made him. 

Dripping sweat causes the paint to bleed down Eddie’s exposed skin. Unsteady hands grab one of the bottles of whiskey thrusted upon them once the band exited the stage and merged into the party. Eddie’s ear’s still buzzed with the raucous applause and hollering that erupted once Kraven finished their set. Immediately after they were mobbed by names he’d read on the backs of cassettes he couldn’t afford in record stores. Producers, lyricists and fellow musicians, all congratulating and praising him - Eddie the freak Munson, the kid who grew up awkward, poor and unwanted. The change of pace in his life was surreal; after a lifetime of critical fails, he’s been rolling nat20s. 

A soft evening breeze provides Eddie with as much needed respite as California weather can. The surrealness of inside was getting to him. Skin sticky from sweat induced by the growing crowd of important people with his name on their tongue. His name. Eddie Munson.

‘Eddie Munson?’

It takes a moment for Eddie to realise that voice wasn’t coming from inside his head. A few feet before him, leaning against the roped barrier a guy peers with his head cock. Soft flopping quaff falling into his curious eyes. A cowboy. Blue wash denim waistcoat with nothing underneath exposing taught tanned muscles. A tanned cowboy hat pushed back so it hangs off the back of his neck.

‘Uh, yeah, yeah… can I help you?’ 

The guy shrugs, hands sliding into the back pockets of tight jeans and rocking on the balls of his cowboy boots. 

‘Nope. Just thought it was you. Saw you perform, you were great. More talented than most of these rockstars,’ he scoffs.

‘Oh, I - I don’t know about that. Thanks, I guess,’ Eddie fumbles over his words, eyes focused downwards at those damn cowboy boots.

With a chuckle the guy responds, now daring to move forward, strong hand adjusting Eddie’s waistcoat. 

‘See, you just proved me right. Most of those guys would’ve agreed and definitely wouldn’t thank me…’ 

His fingers brush over Eddie’s jittering own. 

‘Need a light for that?’

He pulls up Eddie’s hand that holds a long forgotten cigarette that remained unlit. Gulping, he nods. The mystery cowboy draws nearer, a zippo and a cigarette for himself materialising from inside the waistcoat. 

‘I’m Max by the way,’ he smiles as he takes Eddie’s cigarette and places it into his agape mouth for him.

‘I’m Eddie…’

‘I know, babe,’ Max whispers, his own cigarette in his mouth now.

The tips of both cigarettes almost kiss as the distance closes between the two men. The zippo crackles alight, the flame illuminating a pair of wide chocolate eyes staring at a charming pair of green, both sets of pupils dilated. 

‘Holy fuck, I knew you were big. Could see it on stage in that tight ass leather,’ Max groans. Metal scrapes on marble as Eddie Munson’s ringed fingers grip at a bathroom countertop as the man he met moments ago pumps his aching cock. Finally the tension built up inside him from the pressure of the evening was on the brink of dissipating. Huffs of air escape his mouth as Max drops to his knees, long tongue flicking at the drip of precum. 

‘Knew you’d taste good as well,’ he smirks.

‘God damn, shit,’ Eddie pants as warm lips caress his tip, he struggles to contain himself. His hand lunges out, grabbing at Max’s soft locks. ‘Shit, my balls, suck my fucking balls.’

Pliant, Max does as he’s told, firm balls popping into his mouth causing wild bush to prickle at his face. After a few luxurious sucks, he’s hauled back to his feet and Eddie’s previously shaking hands are nowhere to be seen as he swiftly unbuttons denim.

‘I can’t be the only one to play show and tell.’ 

Eddie smirks as he watches green eyes flicker in bliss as his fat cock is released from its denim cage. Tanned to match Max’s toned body with a pretty pink head, fair pubes trimmed neatly. A real pretty boy. 

‘No wonder you were so confident,’ Eddie chuckles, ‘knew you had that ready and loaded, huh?’

Max whimpers now he’s the one to receive relief from another’s hand. Eddie tugs his chin to force eye contact. Only a moment can they maintain contact before both men are chest to chest, jerking the other off, a mess of precum leaking between them. Open mouths and tongues flickering at each other, spit swapping. It’s dirty and hot and far too filthy for this fancy carpeted bathroom.

Pushing aside a wail of pleasure, Max uses a free hand to fumble inside his waistcoat until he brandishes a foil square. Eddie arches a brow.

‘Jesus, just, just fuck me before I cum,’ Max pleads. 

The desperation makes Eddie snigger but it’s mutual. 

Quickly, the man is bent over the counter, ass exposed as Eddie’s warm spit drips down. Groans echo as his thumb circles over Max’s tight hole, slipping in as both men’s dicks twitch in suspense.

‘P-please, fuck me,’ he grunts.

‘Alright, alright. You ready cowboy?’

Moans echo off the tiles as Eddie eases into Max’s asshole. The pair’s eyes meet in the mirror they face until he tops out and his head drops into denim. After a moment, Max begins to wriggle beneath, fucking himself on Eddie’s cock until the message is received. Eddie braces himself, fingers digging into hip bone as he begins to drag his length in and out. 

Eventually the air is thick with heat and the sound of skin on skin. Full balls slapping against each other. A ringed hand against a plush asscheek. Feral groans and whines of pleasure. So loud that no head is turned when the bathroom door bursts open.

‘What the fuck is this shit?!’ A new voice booms off the tiles.

Eddie and Max’s heads snapped round to the figure in the doorway. The pair caught, trousers round their ankles and Eddie balls deep in a stranger. The image is too incriminating to be anything other than it was. He was exposed and the sweat from the impending orgasm now runs cold. There was no hiding.

-----

damn who tf at the door? my man didnt even get to nut in the hot cowboy

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

[idolcandy]

hiii! i love ur fics and I'm a goner about caslys, if you could write it like lysander distances himself from castiel cus of his crush, castiel gets mad, they argue, lys pisses cas even more, and then lys apologizes and they get together and cas is like super soft? not necessarily sappy, just soft lol. idk if any of that made sense, but honestly u don't have to do any of that, if it could be caslys is more than enough lol!! merry christmas!!!

Awakening

Rating: G Ships: Castiel/Lysander Tags: Romance, Confessions

Lysander hasn’t answered his texts, which isn’t that strange in and of itself; he frequently misplaces his phone, lets it die, or simply disconnects for a while. What is strange is that he’s left Castiel on read.

Multiple messages, everything from a simple “hey,” to an attempt to arrange band practice, all ignored. This isn’t like Lysander, if Castiel had offended him or done something wrong, Lysander would be the type to tell him he was being rude. But radio silence is new.

Lysander can be the type to bottle things up and pretend he’s fine; he suffered in silence for a long time before sharing that his father was ill. But it was all internal, he never pushed anyone away. So, what’s changed?

What he’s about to do is petty, he knows it is, but what choice does he have? Castiel sends Lysander one final text.

To: Lysander From: Castiel Talk to me or I ring Leigh to find out what’s going on

The gambit works and it doesn’t take long for Lysander to send a response.

To: Castiel From: Lysander Can we meet at the park?

Castiel rarely goes to the park without taking the dog for a walk, but tonight the mood feels too serious for that, and Pancake stays huddled up in his bed so that he doesn’t get dragged out to an argument.

Castiel finds Lysander sat on a bench in one of the quieter spots in the park, far from the pathways where strolling dog walkers might pass him by. He’s slumped over, his gaze fixed firmly at his feet.

“Hey, are you going to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me?” Castiel demands, forgoing any greetings. He never was one for subtlety.

Lysander breathes a deep sigh and sits up straight. “I owe you an apology, I was wrong to push you away…” Lysander’s voice trails off there, seemingly searching for the right words.

Castiel scowls, “I’m looking for an explanation, Lys.”

Lysander nods in understanding but returns to staring at the ground as if his boots were the most interesting thing in the world. He pauses again but Castiel’s groan of complaint prompts him to speed up.

Still avoiding looking at Castiel, he rattles off a vague excuse, “I’ve been under some stress with family issues and- “

Castiel cuts him off. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I can tell when you’re lying, you’re not able to look me in the eye and lie.”

Lysander looks up at him, “I’m not lying.”

Castiel grits his teeth and turns his back on Lysander, almost retreating to let his anger out in private, but at the last seconds he turns back and unleashes it.

“Fuck you, Lys. I didn’t do shit to deserve this and you’re just going to sit there and lie to me? We’ve been through hell together and now you’re just going to cut me out of your life and you won’t even do me the decency of telling me why?”

Lysander still can’t look at him. He looks so small sitting there, staring at his lap like a naughty child who’s just gotten into deep trouble. And he has nothing to say in his defence.

The corners of Castiel’s eyes scrunch up as he tries to keep the tears at bay. “Do you really hate me that much?”

Lysander leaps to his feet. “I don’t hate you; I love you”

Lysander collapses into the bench, his face looks even paler than usual. It wasn’t meant to slip out like that. It was supposed to go unsaid, forever.

“Christ,” Castiel mumbles, as he puzzles over what to do. Eventually, he settles on taking a seat next to Lysander. “Well, that, uhhh, explains a lot actually.”

Lysander recoils from Castiel. He remains seated but his whole body curls away from Castiel in shame. His hands are trembling by now.

Castiel reaches up and lays a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “Don’t freak out, I’m not mad.”

Lysander closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Castiel’s face. “Aren’t you disgusted though?”

“No!” Castiel’s grip on Lysander’s shoulder tightens. “Jesus Lys, no. Never.”

It’s then that tears start to roll down Lysander’s cheeks. So much that he’d bottled up, and hidden away for fear of rejection, fear of losing Castiel entirely, starts to come to the surface. Soon his head falls into his hands and the tears fall harder.

Knowing words are useless now, Castiel pulls Lysander into him and lets him sob against his chest. Instinctively, he presses a kiss against Lysander’s head, into a mess of white hair. At that, he feels Lysander’s body stiffen and his sobbing quietens down, but he doesn’t question the gesture.

What did that mean? It came from nowhere, a feeling he hadn’t recognised yet. With Lysander so morose, he was overcome with the need to quelch all the reasons for it, to have him and to hold him and kiss the pain away.

As Lysander lets the last of his tears run out in the comfort of Castiel’s gentle embrace, Castiel is left with questions more far-reaching than the ones he arrived with.

[loveylo]

rottmnt!Mikey vs the need to sleep (a silly drabble)

hey gang i am unable to sleep so i decided to let the writers aura take over me, this is probably gonna be bad LMAOO

TCEST DNI THIS IS FAMILIAL LOVE/AFFECTION!!! I HAVE A BAT!!!

no TWs from what i know of? mostly just about Mikey and her inability to sleep. small mentions of nightmares, but it's all mostly fluff!

Headcanons/Tags for this oneshot:

He/She Raphael

They/It Donnie

She/Her Mikey

He/Him Leo

all of them are audhd sorry i don't make the rules !!!

this is after the movie btw!!!! not gonna go too much into it tho :3

FLUFF AND COMFORT!!!!!!!! ANGST IS NOT MY STRONG SUIT!!!!!

For the past three hours, Michelangelo Hamato has been unable to lay down and rest. Now you see, in the Hamato household, this wouldn't be a big issue! Mikey could just wander over to Raphael's train cart and cuddle under her blanket-like arms, no biggie. Except, it WAS a biggie.

Mikey, as tired and desperate for sleep as she is, is also restless. So restless in fact, that NOTHING satiates her need to do something. She tried painting, playing video games (calm ones! for your information, donnie!), watching cat videos, and even just meditating! MEDITATING! These truly were desperate times.

The only solution? Scream into a pillow.

"Uhhh... Mikester?" Leo's voice cuts through the screaming sesion.

Mikey bolts up, wide eyes staring straight at Leo, "Y-Yeah? Wussup Leo?"

"You uh," Leo gestures to the pillow, "You good there?" And what the hell was Mikey supposed to say to that?

'Nothing! LOLZ!' or maybe 'Ya'know how it be! Just a silly nightmare!' OR MAYBE 'It feels like my entire body is writhing to do something but nothing is the something my brain desires'

But all that comes out is a meek, "Not really..."

Leo's eyes soften at the confession. Letting out an affectionate sigh, he crosses the barrier into the orange one's train car, and holds out a hand.

"Turtle pile? Just you an' me, or all of us?" it's a quiet question.

"Yes please, all of us." and a quiet answer.

A pile of green limbs and multicolored blankets sit in front of the TV. Donnie is already snoring away, tired from their days work. Raph is curled up around his three younger siblings, a wall to the outside world. Mikey and Leo were the only ones with their eyes still open, watching the end credits scroll past the screen.

Leo was clearly on the verge of passing out, yet Mikey still sat restless.

"You can rest y'know," She whispered. Her head sat upon Leo's left shoulder, content.

"Nahhh," Leo starts before devolving into a yawn. He continues anyways, "I am just DYING to know who made all those special effects!

"The special effects cast were shown on screen like... 10 seconds ago Lee..."

"Hmm, I dunno what you're talkin' about Mikester! Last I saw, the camera crew were being shown."

"That's because that was the last time you had your eyes OPEN, dude."

Leo rolls his eyes, "Besides," he changes the subject. "I wanna keep you company, big guy. Don't want ya' to be lonely!"

Mikey smiles softly. Huffing a laugh, she leans more of her weight into Leo. "I don't think I'll be lonely, I have you guys with me."

Leo hums and closes his eyes. There's no need to answer with words. He reaches an arm over, and pulls his sister closer. It's warm.

"Ya' sure you'll be okay if I sleep?"

"I'll be okay."

And he knows she means it.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

What Are Friends For? | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This popped into my head and I couldn’t not write it. Enjoy :)

Send me your comments, requests, and / or suggestions! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 💘

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Another night of wine and movies and platonic-maybe-romantic snuggles and was in full swing at your apartment. Bucky parked in his usual spot on your couch, sinking into the plush cushions as he pulled your legs into his lap. The dialogue spoken by Timothee Chalamet and Saoirse Ronan faded away as the two of you laughed and talked. Bucky was just so fucking perfect. Kind, funny, smart, thoughtful- every moment you spent together plunged you deeper and deeper into the love you held for him.

The wine he had brought for you filled you with warmth and confidence, pushing you to ask him something you’d been wondering for quite a while. “Sooooo, Buck, when did you lose your V-card?” your words slipped from your wine stained lips all smooth and sweet, paired with an innocent smile. He sputtered as his wine got caught in this throat and tried to travel to his lungs.

“Uh, hmm? What?” he rasped, making you chuckle just a bit. You rolled your eyes at him like you always did and sat up a bit, placing your face just a little closer to his, “I’m just curious! We know everything about each other...except that”. Curiosity about Bucky’s past had been plaguing you ever since the two of you had gotten close. Your feelings for him had you itching to find out about his romantic and sexual past, but you'd never had the courage.

"If you must know, I was...I'm pretty sure I was nineteen, but you know my memory isn't great", he murmured, "wasn't really anything special, I don't think". He expectantly stared you down in anticipation of you sharing about your first time, but you played dumb just to mess with him. "And? What about you, doll?" his words lifted the charade you'd put on and prompting you to speak.

"I was twenty, and he was my college boyfriend….But it was not a good time", you told him with an awkward laugh. Bucky felt an ache in his chest-and elsewhere- to show you a good time, but he was still carefully toeing the line between friendship and something more. Another question popped into your head as you thought about Bucky's confession, and you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "when was the last time you had sex?" Bucky's cheeks became tinged with pink and he laughed awkwardly, taking another sip of his drink.

"Buck- don't tell me you haven't had sex since BEFORE World War Two?!"

He cringed at your words but nodded anyway, betraying his secret to you. "I was kind of busy, ya know, fighting nazis", he joked, "and then everything with Hydra happened and the blip and...I haven't really had the time". Once again he stared at you, waiting for you to take your turn answering the question. A few quiet moments passed as you thought about it and finally arrive at an answer, "seven-ish months- just a random hook up. It was not successful for me, if you know what I mean".

Envy bloomed in Bucky's chest as he wished he'd been the guy you'd hooked up with- but he would’ve made you scream. He wasn't sure how to respond to your answer, and knew that if he opened his mouth he'd say something earthshakingly stupid, resulting in him giving you a casual nod. "Wait-" you said suddenly, placing a hand firmly on his firm, metal shoulder, "so it's been like eighty years since you've gotten head?"

A blank expression settled over Bucky's features and a small tinge of confusion filled his eyes, "head?" he asked. The small chuckle that escaped your lips was completely involuntary, and you quickly clapped your hands over your mouth to stifle it. Sometimes you forgot just how old Bucky was, and you'd use slang he'd never heard of before. "Uhhh, it's been eighty years since someone's gone down on you, I mean”, you tried again, hoping he'd be more familiar with the term. The unsure expression didn't leave Bucky's face, however, prompting you to almost yell, "oh my god, it's been eighty years since someone's sucked your dick?!"

Bucky almost dumped his wine all over your couch at the words, and he could've sworn that his heart stopped completely. The shock of you saying that made Bucky a stammering mess, "oh- right, I didn't- It's not- Um, I haven't..." he struggled to get the words out until he clocked the hungry fire burning behind your eyes, "I've actually never had someone um, do that to- for me". The sheer tragedy of Bucky's admission had you at a complete loss for words- how had this man, who looked like fucking Adonis, never gotten head before?

"Woah, woah- what?" you eventually muttered as the shock wore off, "How have you never- why?" Bucky chuckled at how disturbed you were by his news and threw you a shrug, "I don't know. Times were different, I guess? And I didn't ever want to make the woman I was with uncomfortable, soooo...yeah". Of fucking course that was his answer- Bucky was such a thoughtful goddamn gentleman that he'd given up getting blown.

Carefully, you set your wine on the coffee table and removed your legs from Bucky's lap, tucking them underneath you so you could be level with his eye line. You sat before Bucky with a look on your face that was so serious it almost scared him; as he tried to ask what you were doing, you lifted your hand, effectively silencing him. "Buck, we're friends-like best friends, right?" He nodded slowly, still unsure of what you were trying to get at. "Right, so we're really close. And I care about you so much, so…” you paused for a moment before launching into the offer that could possibly ruin your friendship, “I’d like to remedy the situation for you- if you want.”

The words left Bucky unable to speak. Suddenly, his mouth was dry and his eyes stared unblinking at your purple-stained lips. Finally, he shook his head and came back to reality, meeting your gaze with his. “I uh- you don’t have to do that, sweets” he muttered with a chuckle, wishing there was more wine. Ever so slightly, you moved toward him and placed a hand lightly on his thigh, “But I want to…” you whispered. Your sultry voice had his already semi-hard cock pressing uncomfortably against his jeans. “But only if you want it,” you promised as you realized there was a chance that you had made him uncomfortable, “do you want it?”

Within seconds his mouth was on yours and he nodded against your lips, whispering an “I want you” between kisses. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you into his lap, situating you right on top of his cock. He let out a quiet moan at the contact, prompting you to grind harder into him. You attempted to let your mouth travel to his neck, but he made it impossible as he hungrily brought you back to his lips every time. “No rush-” he whispered breathlessly, “I’ve been dying to kiss you for a long time”. Bucky had dreamt of this moment ever since the two of you had gotten close.

The feelings he’d held for you were all consuming, melting his tough ex-assassin super soldier exterior and softening his heart. All he ever wanted to do was be with you, and he spent all his free time at your apartment. He was rusty in romance department and didn’t know how to navigate modern dating-which seemed like a nightmare to him by all accounts. Being with you was easy-it was like breathing. Nothing made him as happy as you, and nothing saddened him more than your absence.

His confession sparked a fire in you that you didn’t know you had, doubling the intensity with which you enveloped his mouth. His hands roamed your body as he kissed you, sliding down the curve of your spine and taking a handful of your ass before toying with the hem of your shirt. But this was all about him, so you finally made your move.

Swiftly, you attached your lips to his pulse and sucked at the skin of his neck, eliciting a deep groan from his lips. You let your hands run slowly down his chiseled, muscular chest as your mouth worked over his collar bone, only pulling away to gauge his reactions. He hissed as your teeth nipped at his skin, the sharp sensation making him dig his hands into your hips. With a smirk, you removed his hands from your waist and lifted his T-shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground behind you. He chuckled at your cheeky confidence, but groaned when he felt your nails sink into his skin. A dark smile formed across his lips, encouraging you to keep going.

Painstakingly slowly, you teased your mouth from his neck to his chest to his abdomen, kissing, sucking, and biting his skin as you moved downward. There was no mistaking the huge bulge in his pants, and when you finally arrived at it, your mouth watered. You made quick work of his belt, button, and fly before ordering him to lift his hips so you could pull down his jeans and briefs.

Just the sight of you sitting on your knees before him, staring hungrily at his hardened cock could’ve been enough to make him to come right then. Without warning, you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, eliciting a bead of precum to leak from it. The moan that left Bucky’s body made your clit throb, making you squeeze your thighs together as you knelt in front of him. With your gaze locked on his, you slid the head of his cock into your mouth and lazily swirled your tongue around it. His head fell back against the couch at the sensation and you hummed happily .

With the teasing over with, you got to work for real. Taking all of him slowly into your mouth and down your throat made your eyes water and cut off your oxygen supply, but it was a welcome sensation. You worked over him with abandon, hollowing your cheeks around him and letting him bottom out completely into your throat. The pace you set was aggressive- almost too much for Bucky to handle. Your tongue continued to work mercilessly over the tip as you brought a hand to his balls, making a dirty moan leave his chest. All he could manage to say was a gravelly “fuuuuuuck” as you treated him to the thing he’d always wanted but never got.

His moans became sharp and hurried, his breathing erratic, and you knew he was close. You doubled down, making him groan as you quickly slid him deep with abandon, suddenly feeling the warm sensation of his cum coating your throat. He rode the waves of his orgasm as you continued to tease him with your tongue, only ceasing when the sensitivity finally became too much.

He was quiet while you stood up and took your rightful place on the couch, reaching for a sip of your wine. “Holy fuck”, he muttered as he finally returned to his body, “that was…fuck. Thank you”. A goofy smile was plastered across his face and a laugh escaped your lips- he was just so goddamn cute. “Any time, friend” you snickered.

Suddenly, Bucky became very aware of the fact that he was still sitting on your couch- completely naked. He stood quickly and pulled you from the couch, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Woah,” you breathed, “where we going?” He smirked as he matched confidently toward your bedroom, whispering “just want to return the favor”.

[lilcoffeecup]

Late night coffee and confessions

This is my entry for the fluff/angst Maribat April. This is the fluff piece to @onlyganymede-maribatedition‘s angst piece with the prompt of “I think I love you; You think?!” their fic was really good, I definitely would recommend checking it out. I’m really sorry for posting this late and for the short length but I hope it turned out okay. Enjoy :) @maribat-angst-fluff-april

Marinette had recently moved to Gotham a few weeks ago, after the disaster that was Paris, she had needed a fresh new start and Gotham was that for her. Growing up in a bakery, she wanted to keep a small piece of her past with her and that’s how she ended up becoming a barista at Café Levant. It was a small café, but the manager Micheal and fellow barista, Sera were both good people and made her feel not so alone in Gotham especially during the dreaded night shift.

Tim had always frequented to Café Levant when he wanted his coffee fix at 4am these days since Dick, Bruce, even the whole floor was trying to get him coffee dry, the traitors. Thought it was a nice walk and he always got himself a little a little treat and of course his love, his life, coffee. W.E was a little far away from Café Levant but worth the walk with the delicious chocolate croissants that were baked fresh daily there, and the nice baristas there even gave him the leftovers if there were any occasionally.

Just as Tim was walking in for his late night/early morning coffee fix while almost walking into the door, one of the newer baristas was making brewing a fresh pot. Marinette was her name; Tim was reminded by her a quick glance at her nametag and for a second Tim thought he was looking at a female version of him.  With her having the same expression as his on her face, of not having had sleep in over a week, and of just being so done with everything that all that mattered was finishing the task at hand then passing out for a couple days.

Pouring the coffee into what looked to be a very large cup, and taking a long sip, Tim waited to place his order. “No offense but I’m not gonna greet you with the way too chipper ‘welcome to café levant bs’ because honestly its way too early to have to deal with that, for both you and me. So just tell me your order and wait right there for me to gather enough braincells to make your drink.” Marinette said pointed to a little further from the order station with a card name card type of tag saying ‘pickup’s’.

Tim blinked for a few seconds then seemed to become somewhat coherent again “Uhhh, can I have the darkest roast coffee please?” It was Marinette’s turn to blink, as far as she knew, she was the only one able to stomach the darkest roast that they had and everyone else ended up saying that they couldn’t except for that one guy the others had told her about. “Are you sure about that? Almost no one is able to stomach that, weaklings” Mariette ended up muttering at the end. “Yeah, I’m sure, and as large as you have with as many espresso shots as legal” Now Marinette’s mind was spinning and not just the 4am spinning, no like actually spinning because “if you want to copy my order then go ahead, it’s your funeral”

Just as Tim was about to reply, Riddler burst through the doors carrying a gun in his hand, “Give me all your money, c’mon empty the register NOW”. Marinette didn’t look the least bit frightened though she did look like she wanted to punch someone. Tim realized that the other two workers had stepped back, and so did he since he wasn’t Red Robin right now but Tim Drake-Wayne.

“Do you honestly have nothing better to do right now then rob a small-time café? And, rude much, I was clearly talking to a zombie like myself here and you just had to go and burst through the doors as if I would care” Marinette ended up saying in a bored tone while looking for a frying pan to smack Riddler over the head with. After successfully finding what she was looking for, she nodded her head in the direction of the back-area of the café to Tim “Just head on in there with Sera and Michael, I’ll be with you again in a moment”

For the second time since Tim had entered the small café today, Tim was almost sure that this was all a dream and not reality. Logically speaking, how would a petite little seemingly French not that he wouldn’t look her up on the Bat-computer later would be able to take on Riddler. Before he could protest though, he was ushered into the back by the 2 other workers and when inside and looking at his somewhat concerned face, started snickering “Don’t worry about little Mari, she packs more of a punch than one would think”.

A few minutes later, Marinette walked in with a half-conscious but fully terrified Riddler tied up screaming “Look at what you did! You made me drop some of my precious nectar, my coffee, you monster.” Riddler ended up blubbering “I’m sorry okay! I’m sorry! I’ll never rob this café again! Just please, please don’t hit me with your coffee pot, it hurts.” When she saw Tim’s still concerned look, she gave a glance at her co-workers and when they simply shrugged and started to walk back to the front of the shop to go back to what they were doing she ushered him back to the front

“Are you okay?”, Tim was simply shocked “Am I okay? I wasn’t the one who took down the Riddler, are you okay?”. “Yeah, I’m fine just kind of lost a piece of me with my spilt coffee” “Mood.”

“Anyways, here is your order, I made it just like mine so be careful, it packs a big kick” Tim took a sip “Oh my god! I think I’m in love, you are, hands-down, my new favourite barista! This reminds me of the coffee I used to be able to have before those traitors betrayed me and tried to get me coffee dry” Tim didn’t know if it was just him, but he thought Marinette’s eyes twinkled a little more after that. “Oof, that’s tough, my parents back home tried the same and let’s just say when they were unsuccessful, they didn’t bother trying again” “Don’t worry, I would be a hypocrite if I tried to tame your coffee intake because I’m the same”. Both Tim and Marinette ended up talking throughout the night, and both felt a spark. Marinette didn’t want to seem as pushing herself onto Tim and Tim didn’t know if Marinette would feel the same. In the end, when Tim was just about to leave, he gathered up all his courage and internally said goodbye to the amazing coffee and café if this ended up going south, then decided to say it because he didn’t want the night to end, he didn’t want to leave her. Marinette, seeing that Tim was meaning to say something hoped that it was what she wanted to hear.

“I think I love you”

“You think?!”

~fin.

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter nineteen: uhhh hi?

Summary: U.A.’s third year student y/l/n Y/n, has had a crush for a long time on Todoroki Shouto. One day she decides to write an anonymous love letter, sticks it under his door. She confessed her love and asked him to meet under the Cherry tree Saturday at 4pm. She prepared with her friends for this moment, but what happens when someone else takes credit for the letter? (All characters aged up to third year!)

Taglist: CLOSED!!

Word count: 1k (a little over)

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Third person POV 

Saturday, around 2pm

Letting out a deep sigh he picked up the letter again. Rereading it for the fifth time he began to jot down something on a separate piece of paper. 

Looking over his notes, he let out  another sigh scratching off some points. 

What is this feeling? He thought to himself. Placing everything down on the table he stood up and began to exit his room. Heading down the elevator to the main floor as he headed into the kitchen.

“Hey Man! What’s going on? You look a little stressed.” 

"Hello Kirishima. I am a little distraught, I was trying to come up with something to give to someone but it seems I am not as good at it as I wanted to be.” 

“I see, can I ask who it’s for?” 

“I broke up with Ochaco. She lied too many times to me about everything and after you and Midoriya confirmed the lies I confronted her only to get lied to too.” 

“I’m sorry you found out this way.” 

“I am not, if she was not the one whos true feelings were expressed then why did I spend all this time getting to know her.” The look on Kirishima’s face was somewhere between confused and 

angry. 

“It's not too late to make things right man.” 

“Yes, I have intentions to. Thank you for all your help Kirishima, but I must get back to my work as my tea is now done now. Have a lovely evening.” 

“Ah yeah you too Todo.” With that Todoroki took his tea cup back up the elevator to the fifth floor. Entering his room he set it down beside his note and started back at his work. 

A few hours later...

Todoroki sent a quick text off to Midoriya and after he had received his answer he shoved something into his sweater pocket and headed out.  

Why do I suddenly feel so nauseous? He thinks to himself entering the elevator. Arriving at the floor, he began to feel himself walk slower. He lightly knocked on the door upon arrival. 

On the other side of the door a voice can be heard, “Did you forget something Bakugou?” 

She opened the door,  “Todoroki? W-w-why are you… what are you.. uhh hi.” 

“The way your mesmerizing eyes have caught my attention from the moment we locked eyes, I had known you were the one who held my heart. I was worried at first it could have been a physical attraction, but after getting to know you more through the things you'd do in class I realised it was much deeper. My love for you had grown much bigger than I intended for it too.” 

“Is that my.. My letter?” She asked him. 

“Yes but I also have this,” He pulled something from his pocket and began reading it. “When the letter first had slipped under my door I questioned who could write such lovely words. I have not been one to go out of my comfort zone or talk to anyone other than the few friends I had made and their groups of friends. Over the past few years I have been very self involved so I was quite amazed someone could see me underneath the persona I had made for myself at school. I only read your words, even though I did not see who you were at first, it had made me feel a way, I could not describe it. All I could tell you I wanted to be romantically involved with the one who wrote it. After finding out the original person who claimed the letter as theirs was lying, I felt instant betrayal and wanted to speak to the original owner to see if she would give me a chance.” He stopped reading to look up at y/n. 

“Todo-” She started.

“Please wait there's more.” 

“Oh okay.” She said looking at him again signaling him to continue. 

“It took me a long too long to know the truth, but thanks to the second letter you had sent I was able to learn the truth. I had also asked friends of yours for proof to confront Ochaco, but I knew the original letter was yours after reading the second one just by the way you wrote. I may not have known you personally over the past few years but I was able to recognize who you were. The first memory I had of you was when you volunteered in class and flooded the entire room with your quirk. From the moment on in second year I had taken an interest and wished to know more about you. I always see your lovely smile everyday and your laughter fill my ears.I had always wished I had known what made you feel this way. I wish I could say I felt the same way you did all these years, but here I am now instead, asking if you could let me be the reason you smile everyday.” 

“Todoroki, I am, I uhhh wow.” 

“So  what do you say y/n? Will you be my girlfriend?” She gave him a huge smile, the ones he liked so much. 

“Yes!!” She dove at him with her arms wide as he let out a chuckle, hugging back. 

“I see I have already got one of your smiles.” He whispered into her hair.

She pulled back away from him, noticeably embarrassed by the way she held herself. 

“Please come in, I’m sorry I made you stand in the hall the whole time you were reading that to me.” She stepped aside as he walked past. 

“And I am sorry for making you wait so long for me to come around to you. I would also like to apologise for not massaging you as you had intended with your number on the last letter. I had felt it would be better to talk to you in person.” 

“I like it better this way Todoroki.” 

“Please, call me Shouto.” 

The two sat down on her small couch together as he pulled her in closer. 

“Thank you for giving me a new reason to smile Shouto.” She said into his chest. 

“And thank you for letting me be that reason.” He said as he placed a small kiss on top of her head.

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Previous | Masterlist | Next

An: Only two more chapters till the end after this one,, I’m going to miss writing this smau :(

TAGLIST CLOSED!!

Taglist: @videogameboiwhowins​ @too-many-fandoms666 @angelofdarkness1020 @bakuinred​ @yoonbbyboy​ @iamagalaxy @softesyoongi @tsumuuumiyaaaa @kyomihann @iwavibes @thatweirdfox22 @missmultifangirl @lilithknight1111 @letmebreathepls @ohmygodronnie2020 @noahmanz @smolbbygorl @mikeys-thighs @elephantloser @cuddlesslut @vhskenma @athenarosaline @i-need-hugs @avatarayeaye @tansyfleurwhisper @sorrythatspussynal @yikes-buddy @torilovesmiraculous @zukoatethat @httpswwwtbhkcom

If your name is bold I could not tag you!!

[seqka711]

Ranking the six main boy/girl ships in Yu-Gi-Oh from best to worst!

Not all main girl ships are created equally, I'm afraid. Let's take a look at each ship and see what's up! (Except Sevens because as I mentioned in a previous post, I am way too far behind to comment on anything in that show.)

First up is Anzu and Yugi! And YES I do ship them! However, I don't ship Atem and Anzu. Anzu was friends with Yugi, and started to see him in a different light when Atem started showing up. However, those changing feelings also started to influence her feelings about Yugi as well. We saw that in Duelist Kingdom. Then in season 2 when she realizes they're two separate people, she gets really confused! Anzu doesn't know how to feel anymore! Then Atem and Yugi are both playing wingman for each other, so that's not helping matters. I don't really ship Atem and Anzu because Atem just doesn't seem super interested in their date. I know he had other things on his mind, but if they wanted me to ship it, now was the time to show off some chemistry and they didn't.

We saw in GX that Yugi grows up to look just like Atem and he also grows more confident over the course of the series. After the end of Duel Monsters, I think they're both too hurt by Atem's passing to be digging on each other. But, distance makes the heart grow fonder, and I feel like she's gonna come back from the states and have some heart-pounding feelings when she sees him again. And Yugi's feelings didn't change, they were just put on the back burner. So hopefully when they meet back up, sparks are gonna fly! At least, I hope so. <3

~

Next up is Asuka and Judai! When I watched their first duel, I was 100% on board with this ship. They were cute, they had great banter, it was a fair fight. I loved it! But over the course of the series, I started losing interest in their relationship, fast. By the end of season 2 I was pretty convinced they had abandoned Asuka x Judai for Asuka x Manjoume, and honestly, I was 100% on board with that, I love a good romcom couple and those two have dysfunctional romcom energy. Plus they had evil power couple vibes when they were running the Society of Light together, so I thought for sure they were gonna have Manjoume and Asuka be better friends post possession.

Then season 3 came a long and I was like "woah, they DID do that on purpose! I was right!" when we saw the Judai x Johan x Yubel love triangle they spent the entire season on. Asuka and Manjoume were of course relegated to background characters, as was everyone who wasn't a transfer student. And then the series ended with a pretty definitive Judai x Yubel ending and I was like "cool I like it".

But then season 4 made me question everything by making it clear that Asuka was still crushing on Judai?!?! Uhhh.... what? You haven't mentioned this crush in OVER TWO YEARS ASUKA. You've both changed so much! I thought the whole point was "she had a fleeting crush on him in year 1, but people change and so do our feelings"! I thought they had her fall out of love with him on purpose!! You're telling me the writers just wanted us to ASSUME she was still in love with him this whole time?!

I honestly love the whole "had a crush on him, now that I know him better, he's an amazing friend but I don't like him that way anymore" dynamic and they RUINED IT so bad. And for what? To say "well they fought the whole time, but now look! They can tag duel together!" Well, jokes on them, because a few episodes later Judai and Johan will show off some of the tightest teamwork in the show and I'll have to throw Asuka x Judai in the trash. </3`

~

Yusei x Aki!!!!!! AHHHHHH I LOVE THEM. Their first duel is very romantic in my opinion. Yusei lives to help people, and it's actually a flaw of his that he'll help people no matter the cost. Usually that's sort of a "who cares" flaw in a protagonist, but for Yusei, it adds a lot of depth to his character. The reason he helps people even at the cost of himself is because he feels enormously guilty due to his parents' involvement in Zero Reverse, and he feels like he owes the world (but especially Satellite) everything. Yusei tried to go to jail in Kiryu's stead, but failed, and I think that only compounded his guilt even more.

Then, when Yusei sees the chance to help Aki, he does it. He's scared of her, but he rallies his courage to face her so that he can help her. And it's only natural that Aki would fall hopelessly in love with him after he continually put himself at risk over and over again JUST to help her. I love the episode where she rescues him from being kidnapped and then accompanies him on a riding duel. I think it hits me harder because it reminds me of how much I want to drive a motorcycle but can't because of reasons I won't go into. But part of her desire to learn to riding duel is because she wants to feel the same things Yusei feels. And that's so cute!

Unfortunately, I do have a certain headcanon that gets in the way of my shipping desires. I won't get into the whole headcanon, but I think Yusei might have ended up time travelling back in time to fix Zero Reverse and prevent Zone's future. And Aki wouldn't have come with him because we see her in the flashforward. Yusei is still giving her strength though. And I like to think that maybe a much older Yusei was able to help a much younger Aki control her powers and not enter a cult in the new timeline. And if my headcanon isn't true, then GET MARRIED AND HAVE BABIES GUYS. <3

~

On the one hand, I love Kotori x Yuma. They’re so adorable! Not only is Kotori surprisingly self-aware of her crush (usually the YGO girls love to deny it) but Yuma clearly treats her differently from the rest of his friends, even though he doesn’t know why (yet). Kotori’s confession at the end of the show is SO CUTE AND ADORABLE and Yuma accepts and I love it!

But… I can’t love it as much as I WANT to love it. Kotori’s character, especially in Zexal II is kind of boring. I liked her a lot in Zexal I actually. I thought it was fine to have a character not duel as long as she was doing something else. In season 1 she occasionally gets shit done. Or she’s there for comic relief like when she’s riding the duel coaster. Or arguing with Orbital 7. It wasn’t much, but it was something. In season 2, she’s a total non-entity. I thought the duel where she gets possessed was very funny, but I almost wish that her getting possessed by a Barian was played for drama rather than laughs.

I think what could have been cool is either a) after she can hear Astral, her and Astral team up for a duel or b) when watching Yuma she started to memorize his strategies. Or both. Or neither, just get this girl something to do BESIDES watch Yuma! In the end, my love for how adorable these two are is always somewhat soured by Kotori’s squandered potential. <3

~

Speaking of squandered potential, Yuzu and Yuya are next on the list. I love these two A TON! I’ll be perfectly honest and admit my biases here, I am NOT the biggest fan of Arc-V. The show had a lot of problems, and I’m harsher on it than most.

But one thing I really did like about the beginning of the show was Yuzu! She was independent, driven and her dueling was getting better as the show progressed. Just like Kotori, she became a non-entity in the latter seasons. However, I ship Yuya x Yuzu more than I ship Yuma x Kotori because Yuya was always keeping Yuzu in mind during the latter seasons. So it still felt like the ship was in focus, whereas with Kotori x Yuma, the ship kind of disappeared since more important things were going on. For Yuya, nothing was more important than getting Yuzu back, so really I had no choice BUT to ship it. How could I not? It was so sweet! She was his whole world! I wish we got more scenes with the two of them together though. Them never tag dueling is a crime against humanity. Also its total BS that only Yuya and Yuzu got to come back, but whatever, I guess. I was happy that the two of them reunited and even HAPPIER that the show was finally over. <3

~

Last and basically least, Yusaku x Aoi. Or Playmaker x Blue Maiden. I’ll be honest, I don’t ship this at all. The show doesn’t go through any effort to get us invested in their so-called “relationship” and if I had watched this show on its own, unaware of the series’ tropes, I wouldn’t have assumed they were a “ship” at all. With Judai x Asuka, I actually liked the fake out (at least until S4 when I wondered whether or not the fake out was actually on purpose or if the writers are just morons) but with Yusaku x Aoi I get frustrated because it wouldn’t have been that hard to GIVE them some chemistry. They’re both interesting characters, and I think Aoi and Yusaku could have had an interesting dynamic if Aoi had learned Playmaker’s identity a lot sooner.

What I think the show should have done was have Aoi discover Playmaker and Soulburner’s identity at the same time they discovered each other. Then have Aqua come into the fold a lot earlier. Trios are popular in fiction for a reason, and I think Yusaku, Takeru and Aoi would have been an excellent trio. Specifically, with both Yusaku and Aoi being so reserved, their relationship would be very understated. But that’s not a bad thing. It just means that the writers would have to put more focus on the little things. Like, maybe after a while of being friends, Yusaku sits next to her in class. That would be a small thing for other people, but for those two, that’s huge! I could also see there being a fun episode where Ai tries to trick them into going on a date but fails spectacularly. The two of them end up spending time together to foil the plan. That could be really cute! LITERALLY ANYTHING is better than NOTHING.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t ship this because the writers thought they could get me to ship it just by having boy meets girl and then having them shake hands over a hundred episodes later. And no. I refuse. I need a LITTLE more than that, please and thank you. </3

~

That was a very long post! All in all, 4/6 ain’t bad at all! Or maybe it’s more like a 3.5 since I only gave Kotori and Yuma a small heart? It doesn’t really matter, I’m a multishipper. At my heart and soul, I’ll ship anything. Like I said I don’t ship Judai and Asuka, but I totally have shippy fanart of them on my phone, lol. It’s more like… which of these ships would I defend in court and which ships do I only like because I’m trash that’ll ship anything?

Oh, I guess I did title this as a ranking... Well, I'm sure you can figure out my most and least favourites by how much I used caps lock, so it should be fine.

Give me ANY Yu-Gi-Oh ship (straight, gay or in between) and I’ll dissect it like I did these six.

[dixie12]

kink confession #3

i really love puppy play. i see it as a progression of d/s play, where the sub partner gets to really get out of their head, and just get totally spoiled and taken care of by their dom. and if anyone deserves to be petted and loved on and called a good boy, it's jonny.

i meant this to be a quick, smutty thing, but the boys wouldn't cooperate and get down to the porn, so it's almost 4k words, but i had fun writing it!

“You can’t even keep a houseplant alive, Kaner. There is absolutely no way anyone would ever entrust you with a dog,” Jonny said, for what felt like the twentieth time that night. Sharpy never should have let Pat dog-sit Shooter a few weeks ago, because ever since then, Pat seemed to bring up getting a dog at least once a day. “Plus, we’re on the road, like, all the time. It would be cruel to the dog,” Jonny continued. He had no idea why Pat was so insistent on this.

“I’d be awesome at it, though!” Pat exclaimed, sulking just a little. “I practically raised all three of my sisters, and they turned out great.”

“Raised them in between playing on five different peewee teams, Peeks?” Sharpy interjected into the conversation. “And you’re barely a year older than Erica, come on!”

“Whatever,” Pat grumbled. “I’d be the best dog dad ever. Shooter’s probably begging to come back and live with me. I’d give him steak, and belly rubs, and we’d go on long walks, and-”

“Are you describing a dog or your dating profile, man?” Sharpy interrupted, laughing, and Patrick’s cheeks turned a light pink, almost unnoticeable in the dim light of the bar, but Jonny was watching him pretty closely, like he always did.

“Fuck off, Sharpy. Jesus, don’t make it weird,” Patrick replied, rolling his eyes. Thankfully, the conversation moved on after that, when the rookies came back with a round of shots for the table. Jonny lost track of the number of rounds after that, but the rest of the night passed in a blur, and he and Pat were leaning on each other for balance by the time they were waiting for a cab to get back to their hotel.

When they were finally back in their room, clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor (Jonny) or folded neatly on the desk chair (Patrick), Patrick brought it up again. “Seriously, Jonny, I’d be so good at it,” he said plaintively. Jonny could imagine the puppy dog eyes he was making, so appropriate for this situation, and forced himself to stay quiet. Patrick sounded almost forlorn, and Jonny really hated when he sounded like that, all of his instincts telling him to make Pat feel better, but it was still a bad idea.

“Maybe I could, like, prove how good I’d be!” Pat said into the silence. “Come over next weekend, man, and I’ll show you. You’ll change your mind, I swear.” At that point, Jonny was drunk and tired enough that he said yes, mostly just to get Pat to go to sleep. Looking back, he really should have asked some important questions, mainly, what the fuck did Patrick mean by “showing him,” but his eyes were dragging closed, and he passed out as soon as he mumbled his agreement.

*

Jonny walked into Pat’s apartment, unsure what to expect. Pat hadn’t been very forthcoming on the phone. He’d actually sounded a little nervous, voice higher than usual, words coming out quickly, telling Jonny to just get over to his apartment already. Jonny walked in slowly, peering around the corner, ready to be ambushed by an entire pack of dogs, or maybe a powerpoint presentation entitled ‘Why Patrick Kane Deserves a Dog” complete with ClipArt pictures and comic sans font. He certainly wouldn’t put it past Pat to try something that ridiculous.

Pat was just sitting on the couch in his living room, though, TV on but not really watching it. His head jerked in Jonny’s direction as he entered, and Pat sat up straighter.

“Hey, man,” he said, still with that undercurrent of nerves that Jonny heard over the phone.

“Ok, I’m here,” Jonny replied, skipping over a normal greeting entirely. “Let’s get this over with so we can watch some tape tonight.”

“Yea, yea,” Pat said, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward and picked up a small package that Jonny hadn’t noticed, sitting on the coffee table. “Here,” he said, offering the box to Jonny. “This is for you. For today.”

“Ok…” Jon answered, taking the box in his hands. It was light, but it rattled a little when he shook it. He opened it gingerly, lifting the top off. There was tissue paper inside, and when he pulled it out, he saw a red and black leather dog collar. There was a tag on it, a simple circle that was cool to the touch as he fingered it gently, turning it over. The back just read “88” with no other markings.

“Uhhh, what is this, Pat?” Jonny asked, stroking his fingers over the leather. It was buttery soft in his hand, silver buckle polished to a high shine.

“It’s for you!” Patrick repeated, voice somewhat manic. “You’re going to wear it, and pretend to be a dog, so I can take care of you and show you how good I am at it!” Jonny just stared at him, dumfounded. He could feel his jaw hanging open, but didn’t have the mental energy to close it, too busy repeating Pat’s words in his head. He seriously expected Jonny to…

“You seriously expect me to put on a fucking dog collar and what, crawl around on the ground? So you can show me that you should get a real dog? That will be left alone half the season and then dragged back and forth to Buffalo? Are you insane?” Jonny half-yelled the last sentence, feeling hysterical.

“I mean, when you put it that way…” Pat’s eyes dropped guiltily, and he was blushing now. “I wasn’t really thinking of it like that. I just… I think I’d be good at this, and it sucks that everyone thinks I can’t be trusted.” He looked up at Jonny through his lashes, and with his curls in desperate need of a haircut, he looked heartbreakingly young and sad. Jonny could feel his resolve breaking.

He guessed they had kind of been jerks to Pat in the bar, making fun of him. Pat had gotten a lot more responsible in the last year, and he’d probably do fine with a dog, and maybe they shouldn’t have teased him so much. Pat was still looking at him imploringly, eyes wide and hopeful. Fine, he’d do this for a few minutes, assuage his guilt, and then they’d never speak of it again.

“Jesus, fine,” he huffed out. “But you mention a single word of this to anyone and I’m going to stab you with a skate blade, Happy Gilmore style,” Jonny threatened, narrowing his eyes at Pat, whose blinding grin made the upcoming embarrassment worthwhile.

“Yea, of course, Jonny. It’ll be our thing, I promise,” he said, taking the collar from Jonny’s hands. “Go put on some sweats, I think that will be more comfortable, ok?” and Jonny didn’t even bother fighting that one. The sooner they got this started, the sooner it would be over.

He came out of Pat’s guest room dressed in a pair of his own sweatpants that he’d left there at some point. They were well-worn, soft, and smelled like Pat’s detergent.

“Ok, come here so I can put this on you,” Pat said, gesturing Jonny towards him with the hand that still held the collar. Jonny walked towards him slowly, prior nerves that he’d fought down returning with a vengeance as he watched Pat unbuckle the collar in preparation. He took a deep breath, stopping just in front of Patrick, who tugged his shoulder until he turned around. “Crouch down a little so I can reach, dick,” Pat said, pushing on his shoulder.

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t call your, uh, I mean, a dog a dick, Pat. That’s kinda mean,” Jonny complained.

“Hey as soon as it’s all the way on, I’m going to treat you like gold, Jonny,” Pat said. Jon felt the collar tightening against the tensed muscles in his neck. “Relax,” Pat said, voice dropping low, one hand running from Jon’s neck to his shoulder, soothing. Jonny shivered, but some of the stiffness in him relaxed, and Pat slid the buckle into place. “How’s that feel?” he asked, slipping a finger underneath to test for any give.

Jonny had to clear his throat, which was suddenly dry. “Uhh, it’s good,” he got out. “I mean, it’s fine. Not too tight,” he mumbled.

“Perfect,” Pat said, and the word warmed something inside him.

“So what do we do now?” Jon asked, wondering just what Pat had planned for their play date.

“Uh-uh, Jonny. Dogs don’t talk,” Pat answered with a smile. “You just do what I say and let me spoil you.” And oh. Jonny had never had someone say anything like that to him before. He could feel the blossom of heat in his cheeks and knew it was spreading down his neck and chest, as well. He desperately hoped that Pat just thought he was embarrassed. That’s all it was, he told himself firmly, willing himself to get it together. He just wasn’t used to hearing things like that directed at himself. Hell, he’d never talked to any girls like that either, like they were something precious to take care of.

Jon nodded jerkily, determined to play along and not make it weird. Or, weirder than it already was, he guessed.

“Ok, first things first- every dog deserves some time snuggling on the couch, come on,” Pat said, starting to walk into the living room. Jonny hesitated, unsure for a moment if Pat expected him to like, crawl on all fours behind him. That wouldn’t be very good for his knees, he thought. Or his dignity.

Patrick seemed to get what he was thinking and laughed as he answered “nah, man, you can walk like normal. Unless you like, really want to get method on me, then you can go ahead and crawl.” Jon shook his head hard, following behind Pat into the living room.

Pat sat down on the couch, then gestured next to him. Jon sat, somewhat stiffly, but Pat immediately pushed him down. “No, come on, that’s not snuggling. Lie down,” he directed, and Jon allowed himself to be pushed over. His head ended up in Pat’s lap, which he didn’t think he’d done since he was drunk with TJ at UND. He’d definitely never cuddled with his head in a guy’s lap while sober, he knew that much. Maybe he should have pregamed with some shots before he came over today.

Too late now, though. “Yea, that’s good,” Pat was saying, as he stroked his hand through Jonny’s hair. “Good boy.” Jonny suppressed another shiver. He’d always been a sucker for having his hair played with, and it figured that Pat had discovered the weakness right away. “I know you don’t like my reality TV, so I’m putting on a nature show for you. They’re supposed to be very soothing for dogs, ok?” Pat said, and Jonny could get used to that, to Pat catering to what he wanted. Jon was pretty sure Pat didn’t actually want a response, what with the whole “dogs don’t talk” thing he had insisted on, so instead, he let himself relax a little bit more into Pat’s lap.

The show actually was soothing. Jonny was only half-listening to the English-accented narrator talk about different kinds of jellyfish, letting his mind wander as Pat continued to stroke his hair. Sometimes he’d grasp at it and tug, and every time, Jonny had to bite back a moan. Soon, Pat’s hand had wandered down from his hair and was stroking long, firm pats (there was no better word for it) down his neck and shoulder. Jonny shuddered into one of them, and he could hear the smile in Pat’s voice as he said “yea, feels good, doesn’t it?” hand never stopping.

Jonny was glad that he wasn’t expected to answer, not sure he’d have been able to get any words out anyway. He let out a deep sigh, instead, and Pat crooned at him “good boy. Good, good boy.”

Jonny lost track of time after that, mind and body both relaxed. He jerked in surprise when Pat moved to get up. “Shh, it’s ok. Good boy,” Pat soothed. “I’m just going to get dinner going. I promised you a steak, didn’t I?”

Jon nodded, letting himself sink back into the cushions of the couch. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable without Pat there underneath him, but it gave him a chance to get himself back under control. It was hitting him harder than he expected, Patrick touching him gently and saying soft, sweet things to him. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind from the fog it had fallen into.

He could hear Pat puttering in the kitchen, and for once didn’t feel any guilt about not helping. He listened as Pat heated the stovetop, then heard the sizzle of steak hitting the frying pan. Usually, he’d be bugging Pat about not cooking with oil, and preparing healthy side dishes, keeping up his side of the banter that was expected of him. Tonight, though, Pat didn’t expect that from him. Didn’t want it from him, either. Just wanted him to lie still on the couch and wait, and Jon could do that.

He was almost dozing when Patrick walked back in. Jon perked up at the smell of food, and Pat sounded fond when he said “dinner’s here, pup.” Jon started at that, but before he could get himself good and worked up, Pat was sitting next to him, two large steaks on a plate on the coffee table. Jonny sat up, looking at the food expectantly, but Pat shook his head.

“Pups don’t eat on the couch,” he said, and he placed a cushion that Jon had never seen before on the floor. Pat pushed at his shoulder once, and, fine, the steak looked and smelled delicious, so Jon could suffer the indignity of eating on the floor. He settled down on the cushion, which was soft and velvety beneath him, and reached towards the plate. It was only then that he realized there was only one set of utensils.

Pat leaned forward, cutting a piece of steak from one of the filets. He blew on it for a moment, then gently took it off the fork and offered it to Jonny between his fingers. Jonny took just a moment to consider the pink center and perfect sear, smell even more tantalizing as Patrick brought it to his mouth. He swallowed hard, then leaned forward, taking the bite from Pat’s fingers. Pat smiled at that, broad and bright, as he cut the next piece off for himself.

Pat had turned the TV down, now just a quiet white noise in the background as they made their way through dinner. Usually, as two guys in their twenties with a physically demanding job, they inhaled their food, finishing in a matter of minutes. Pat was taking his time tonight, though, cutting off pieces of steak that were the perfect size for Jon, letting Jon take them delicately from his fingers.

Without the ability to talk, or even use his hands, Jon’s other senses felt heightened, even as his mind felt more relaxed. He could feel himself settling deeper onto the cushion, shifting his weight more comfortably on the velvet, which was soft on the tops of his exposed feet. His arms were heavy as they hung by his side, hands folded in his lap, unnecessary now, because Pat was taking care of him. The smell of the steak hung in the air, enticing and reminiscent of dozens of other nights he’d spent with Pat.

He closed his eyes as Pat fed him another bite, and fuck if this wasn’t the best steak he could remember having, seasoning sharp and tangy, steak melting in his mouth. He could feel some of the juice running down Pat’s hand, and he lapped it at without thinking, not wanting to miss out on any of the taste. He heard Pat’s quiet gasp as he licked over his fingers, tongue curling in between them, but Pat didn’t pull back, didn’t say anything else, just took his clean hand and stroked Jonny’s cheek.

“Yea, it’s good, huh, isn’t it, pup?” he asked, voice hushed. “Made it just for you,” and Jon licked harder at that, strangely comforted by having something in his mouth. He heard himself whine when Pat gently pulled his fingers out of Jonny’s mouth, but couldn’t spare the thought to be embarrassed before Pat’s hand was back with another piece. Instead of holding it out for Jonny between his fingers, though, he had it in the palm of his hand. Jonny bent his head closer, no hesitation in him as he picked up the piece with his teeth and tongue, and then Pat’s hand was still there, dripping with juice and salt and seasoning, and he set in to lick it clean.

He enjoyed the sensation of the rough calluses on Pat’s palm, built up from years of stickhandling, and kept dragging his tongue over them long after Pat’s hand was free from any traces of the steak. Pat kept a hand in his hair, smoothing through it, scratching at Jonny’s scalp in a way that felt blissful. He kept at it even after Jonny stopped licking, as Jonny knelt there on the cushion at his feet. They stayed like that until Jonny’s head grew heavy, neck wobbly with relaxation, and he rested it on Pat’s leg.

“Ok, pup,” Pat said eventually. “Let’s get you some water, yea?” Jonny didn’t attempt to answer, just picked his head up and watched as Pat rose from the couch. He realized Pat was walking out towards the kitchen, and suddenly didn’t want to be alone. Without thinking about it, he put his hands on the hardwood floor and started crawling out of the room after Pat.

Pat only took a few steps out of the room before he stopped, turning around and looking down at Jonny. Jonny couldn’t quite tell what expression was on Pat’s face, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen him smile so softly, not even when talking to his sisters.

“You’re being so good for me, aren’t you, pup?” he said gently, and Jonny shivered. “Yea, you just want to be with your person, huh,” Pat continued, bending down and working a finger under Jonny’s collar. He tugged it gently, making Jonny gasp at the reminder of what was around his neck, and then let go. He scrubbed his hand through Jonny’s hair once more before turning back around and continuing towards the kitchen. Jonny kept crawling behind him, then settled himself in the entryway while Pat poured two glasses of water.

“Come on, boy,” he said, walking back to the couch, and Jonny followed without pause.

When they got back to the living room, Pat grabbed the cushion that he’d laid out for Jonny for dinner, dragging it closer to the couch. “It’ll be easier for you to drink like this, pup,” he explained, tugging Jonny towards him and holding one of the glasses out to his lips. He tipped it up slowly, letting Jonny drink at his own pace, and Jon could feel himself blushing again. The intimacy of the moment, being at Pat’s feet, letting Pat help him drink, hit him hard, and he realized that he hadn’t even attempted to take the glass in his hands, even before Pat said anything. He’d just assumed that Pat would take care of that for him, just like Pat had been taking care of everything else tonight. He was overwhelmed, suddenly, with affection for Pat, and he dropped his head, nuzzling into Pat’s thigh.

He heard Pat’s short, sweet laugh above him, and he almost pulled back, but Pat brought one big hand down, laying it on the back of his neck, keeping his head there.

“Yea, I love you too, pup,” he murmured, and Jon could hear the warmth in his voice. Jon smiled to himself, groaning quietly as Pat’s hand started up with the long strokes through his hair again, and he let his head rest on Pat’s thigh, body melting into Pat’s strong legs at the feeling of the hand in his hair.

He let himself be lulled by the soothing strokes, mind drifting, eyes closed. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when he opened his eyes again, the room was darker, and Pat had slouched down a little further on the couch. He still had his hand in Jonny’s hair, though, occasionally running it down his neck, rubbing in small circles. It felt amazing, and Jonny leaned forward, trying to get Pat’s attention to give him another drink of water.

When he leaned in, though, he rubbed up against Pat’s leg, and fuck that felt good. He hadn’t even realized he was hard until his cock made contact with Pat’s leg, but now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t stop himself from jerking his hips again. A whine slipped out of his lips as his hips thrust forward a third time, seeking out the hard planes of Pat’s leg, grinding his cock there. He could feel the precome slicking down his dick, easing the way for him to keep rubbing up against Pat, even through his soft sweatpants. He whined again at the feel of it, dirty, but so good.

He heard Pat gasp a sharp breath above him, heard him groan out a “fuuuck J-, I mean, pup.” Jonny could feel the blush blooming in his cheeks, but he didn’t care, not when the simple pressure of Pat’s leg against the hot length of him felt like this. “Yea thats good, pup,” Pat said, half a moan, and he dropped his hand lower, between Jonny’s shoulder blades, pushing gently on his back, encouraging him to ride Pat’s leg even harder. “Want you to feel good, baby. Make yourself feel good for me,” and the approval in Pat’s voice lit Jonny up from the inside, warm glow of it driving out the last of his embarrassment.

He buried his face in Pat’s thigh, not using his hands at all, just letting his hips work mindlessly, rutting up against Pat’s leg. This wasn’t going to take long, not with Pat’s strong hand firm on his back and Pat’s soft praise in his ear. He could feel himself losing the rhythm, could hear his breath coming in harsh pants, and he didn’t fight it, not like he usually did, struggling to last, to make it good for whatever girl he was with. Now, he just let the orgasm race through him, coming hard and groaning with it.

He shuddered, feeling utterly spent in the best way, body loose and limp. Pat dragged his hand up from Jonny’s back, tangling it in his hair for a moment before reaching down for Jonny’s collar. He snuck his fingers under it, and Jonny let himself drift again, pressed up against Pat, Pat’s fingers tight on his collar.

[good-rwbyaus]

AU where instead of Jaune having a semblance that turns him into a harem protagonist, his semblance let’s him turn OTHER people into harem protagonists.

// Yes. Good. Time to suffer Blake. 8D - mod lilac

Title: JAUNE IM GOING TO KILL YOU

“You! You did this!”

Oh crap. The last person he wanted to see was here, and here he was still stuck in a hospital bed from the Battle of Beacon, unable to escape or run away. He couldn’t help sweating as the dark-haired faunus approached, hand pressed against her abdomen, and then leaned forward without doing anything.

For a moment, he hoped. And then the hands around his neck proved that hope was nothing more than a four letter word for lie. Immediately, the other girl started tightening her grip and shaking him against his bed, head banging against his pillow.  

“When I said it might be interesting to become a Ninjas of Love protagonist, I didn’t mean you using your Semblance on me in real life,” Blake screamed angrily, “Do you know what sort of month I’ve had because of you?”

“Acck. Blake. I need to breath. Blake,” he said as he patted the other girls’ arms to mark his submission. He wasn’t actually getting hurt, but as he knew from living with seven older sisters, sometimes the feeling of getting revenge justice was enough.

Otherwise, if they don’t think you’ve suffered enough, that’s when your life gets miserable.

“I thought everyone around me was going crazy! Everyone proposing to me out of the blue,” Blake screamed, “And they were!” She loosened her grip on Jaune’s neck as she took deep breathes, “Then Pyrrha came to visit me, and since she still seemed sane, I told her what’s been happening to me. Guess what I found out. Apparently Jaune Arc has a semblance that turns people into harem protagonists!”

“What did I do to you to deserve this?!” Her hands twitched again as if ready to go for another round of strangle the blond.

His hands immediately went up to prevent such a thing from happening.

“Blake. If you choke me to death, this is going to keep happening.”

“Jaune. If you don’t stop it now, I will throttle you and then run home to Kuo Kuana.”

“It can’t be that bad. What, you got proposed to by three or four peopl-”

Blake’s eyebrow and ears began twitching.

“...I take it that’s not what happened.”

“Three or four?!”

“...Maybe you want to tell me what’s going on before you extend my hospital stay,” Jaune asked carefully. The girl glared at him before taking a deep breath.

"It all started with Sun...” 

=================

Sun:

“Hey Blake. I was thinking about you, and I got you this,” Sun smiled, rubbing his head sheepishly. An amethyst necklace, beautifully displaced inside a red package, laid in his other hand, shining brilliantly.

The sparkle - the shine - they caught her eye immediately. It glittered and caught her attention in a way that really tickled her, but she couldn’t help but glance at the package the necklace was in. And that dropped cold water onto her appreciation. She frowned. 

She lifted her gaze to meet Sun’s. 

“Sun?”

“Yes?” Sun asked excitedly. 

“Did you steal this?”

Sun averted his eyes as he continued speaking confidently. 

“Why I’d nev-” 

“The security tag is still on it.”

“-er think about giving you something I haven’t stolen myself.”

Blake just glared at the boy who quickly excused himself. 

=================

“I didn’t think much of it at first,” Blake said, “But random people started - out of the blue might I add - propositioning me while the Vytal Festival was going on - especially Shade Academy. I just thought they were an overly forward bunch cause they were part of the whole “live hard, live free” crew. ”

Blake stared darkly at Jaune, who just slid lower into his hospital bed.

“But then my team got involved.”

=================

Ruby and Yang

“Blake~”

“Blake!”

“Ruby? Yang?” she turned around for just a moment, only to be immediately accosted by the two sisters. Ruby hung to her right arm, and Yang hung onto her left arm. They spoke at nearly the same time. 

“You’re looking incredibly dashing today, Blake, “ Yang said with a wink. 

“You’re so pretty today,” Ruby said in awe, “That is not to say you’re not prett-” The awkward girl trailed off before finding a way to quickly change the subject.

“Stop copying me, Yang,” Ruby said with a pout.

“I said it first,” the other girl grinned.

Uhhh. What was going on? First Sun, then the random people, and now Ruby and Yang.

“So what about going on a ride with me and Bumblebee through the town?”

“No, Blake’s going to go with me to Vytal’s Weapons Exhibit, not on a boring ride with you.”

“What’s so great about looking at a bunch of old weapons?”

“You take that back! Can’t be any worse than just driving around boring Vale.”

“Wel-”

Maybe she should stop this before things get worse. 

“I already have plans - uh - to stay in Beacon and curl up near the fireplace and read an interesting book that I recently purchased,” Blake said carefully as she lightly twisted out of the sisters’ grips.

Ruby glanced over at Yang, and Yang at Ruby.

“Why does that sound really similar to the words you said to us on the first day we met?” Ruby said.

“Well, she was probably just saying that just to get rid of you.”

“No, she was telling you to go away. She liked me when we first met, “ Ruby said smugly as she pointed her thumb at herself. 

“Let’s ask then. Hey, who were you telling to g- No. I thought of a better question. Who do you like more, Ruby or me?”  

As a connoisseur of horrible romance novels, she knew that question was a horrible trap. She needed to use all her tactical skills to escape this situation.

Step 1. Stall.

“I-I-I like you both,” Blake stuttered out, already seeing the dissatisfaction on both girl’s faces.

“That’s a copou-”

“C’mon, Bla-”

Step 2. RUN.

She then created a clone to distract them as she crashed out of the nearby window. A pair of affronted screams could be heard as she ran for the treeline.

Sorry, clone. 

=================

“I’ve been camping in the Emerald Forest to avoid them,” Blake said frazzled, “Do you know what it’s like to be the subject of sisters trying to compete for affection?”

“Uhhh yeah,” Jaune laughed, “I have seven older sisters, you know.”

“Why would you do this to me then?”

“Ahaha. Sorry, but you were the one who expressed interest in the life of a harem protagonist.”

Blake’s gaze moving between his pillow and his face probably wasn’t a good sign. 

“Uhh. So that’s it?” Jaune said quickly.

“No! It affected my entire team!”

=================

Weiss:

“Uhhh Weiss. You didn’t have to prepare all this,” Blake said, not quite able to stop her drooling. In the middle of the Emerald Forest was a small seafood banquet, and to someone that had been living with her own subpar cooking skills for a week, it was a godsend. 

“It was my pleasure. It’s been a long time since we could just sit together like this,” Weiss said daintily, sipping her tea on the table she prepared, complete with cloth drapings. 

“Yeah, especially since Ruby and Yang seem to have gone insane.”

“How so?”

“The last time I went back to Beacon, Ruby tried feeding me her home cooking, and I nearly died from the taste. Yang taunted her because her own cooking was miles better, and now Ruby’s on a quest to improve her cooking and making me the taste tester.”

Weiss winced sympathetically before smiling. “Well, you’re here now. Just take a seat and just enjoy the food.”

“Thanks,” Blake said as she sat down, grabbing a couple dishes and devouring them as fast she could endure. 

It was then she felt a peculiar feeling against her calf. Thinking it was just a bug, she just swung her leg, and the sensation went away. 

But after a couple more seconds of dining, she felt it reappear - and it was now on her knee now. 

Immediately, she lifted her head from the dishes to stare at Weiss, who had an innocent smile on her face as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“Weiss?”

“Yes, Blake?”

“Is thaaaa...”

Warning bells started ringing in her head; that foot now on her thigh was reaching just a tad bit higher inch by inch. And immediately, she stood up, face burning like it’s been out of the sun.

“SorryWeissIrealizeIhavetogocatthefeedBye!” she spilled out in a panic as she ran like a Goliath was after her.

As she entered into the woods, her ears caught Weiss’s parting words.

“Wait Blak-. Does that mean Blake isn’t into this sort of stuff then?”

=================

“As it so happens,” Blake said rubbing the space between her brow, “a couple of my Ninjas of Love books have gone missing from underneath my bed mattress. The one with that dinner scene in particular.”

“Sounds like you read some really raunch-”

Blake slightly reddened and sent Jaune a glare.

“Uhh, sorry. So that’s gotta be it then.”

“No. Because guess who also has a sister?”

“Weiss has a sister?” 

Blake sighed.

=================

Winter:

“I wanted to see the girl who had my sister’s affections,” the white-haired girl who looked a lot like Weiss said calmly. She had cornered her inside a cave, out-maneuvered her to the point where she had to hide - and still found her.

Winter’s hand lifted her chin. “You really....are pretty.”

Her face burned red at the affectionate gesture. 

Shadow.

Run. 

=================

“That doesn’t sound like a confession though, “ Jaune said skeptically.

“With the way my month’s been going,” Blake said dryly, “you really want to bet on that?”

Jaune shook his head laughing nervously.

“No bet. No bet,” Jaune waved his hand. 

“Besides she was part of the cavalry during the Battle of Beacon.”

=================

Adam:

“Adam, I’ve never thought about you that way,” Blake choked out, the pain through her gut making her curl onto the ground.

“What! You can’t deny me. You’re mine. And you always will be. And if I can’t have you....”

Her once mentor’s blade shimmered in the flames, pointing towards her neck as she struggled to ready her Semblance. 

“Hey! Someone’s trying to kill Blake!” someone screamed out. It sounded a lot like Yang. 

A blur of fire and ice practically detonated the spot Adam was standing in, sending him to the wall opposite to her charred worse than Ruby’s cooking. Familiar figures dropped in through the roof, took one look at her, and then charged towards her assailer with unmatched ferocity. 

Adam proceeded to get his ass beat by the rest of Team RWBY, Sun, Winter, and Cinder.

=================

“Wait wait wait. Cinder? How does she enter into the picture?” Jaune said incredulously. 

“Apparently she’s the mastermind behind everything,” Blake shrugged, “According to her confession, she took one look at me and realized all the wrongs she’d done and wanted to work hard to atone.”

Jaune couldn’t help but stare disbelievingly at that.

“Winter’s boss couldn’t believe it either,” Blake pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I guess all’s well that ends well. You got saved, Vale’s still standing. All of us are alive,” Jaune laughed.

“Yeah, except for this little problem of me having a harem!” Blake growled.

“Wait. Where’s Blake?” said a voice outside the room.

“She’s awake?!” said another voice.

“She shouldn’t be walking around like that. Should be resting with the best medical care Vale could offer.” said a third. 

“Crap. They’re here,” Blake said frantically, glancing over at a nearby window. “Fix this, Jaune, or you’re not going to like what happens next.”

Opening the sliding window, the girl dove through and quickly skedaddled towards the treeline of the forest that was becoming her home.

Meanwhile....

Jaune felt a foreboding feeling as his room door slid open, and the stares of three panicking members of team RWBY settled on him. 

“Jaune, have you seen Bla-” Ruby said before her gaze locked onto something at his side.

Jaune glanced over to see what Ruby was looking at - the open window.

“So, Jaune, what do you think you were doing with Blake alll alone?” Yang said with a smile that wasn’t a smile.

“Ehehe. Nothing. I’ve just woken up. I didn’t even see her today.”

“Really? I don’t think you’re telling us the truth,” Weiss said calmly, “Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“Close the door.”

Sweating, Jaune clandestinely started pressing the nurse call button under his sheets, hoping someone would come before these three had their way with him. 

[writing-in-april]

The Key

Llewyn Davis x Female Reader

Summary: Reader gives Llewyn a special gift on Valentine’s Day

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day guys (especially to @spencers-dria) This is for @aellynera and is for the Valentine’s Day fic exchange organized by the lovely @sergeantkane!!! Thanks for organizing this I love fic swaps!! This is the first time I’ve ever written for Llewyn so fingers crossed lmao 😂 Also consider this a bonus for my 1000 follower celebration! The other fic will be out later tonight! Thanks for reading and requests are open!

Warnings: uhhh- just one sexual innuendo- I think that’s it!

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.5k

I set a package on my coffee table, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand wrapped in matte red wrapping paper. It was the last stop in a series of clues I had laid out for Llewyn on Valentine’s Day.

After I was satisfied with the placement of everything around my apartment I sat at my kitchen table waiting patiently with a cup of coffee for Llewyn to wake up. The early morning light started to beam its way through my curtains as I sipped on the steaming liquid and thought about how we had gotten to this point.

When I spotted a man sitting outside in the blistering cold last winter with not nearly enough layers to combat the weather I had to reach out to help. I had known that if I had left him there there was a high chance he would’ve died from exposure that night from how much it had dropped in temperature.

I remembered how tired he looked, almost like it was yesterday. I remembered basically working all night to unthaw him, even though I didn't even know his name. After I had learned a little about Llewyn after his lips were no longer blue I immediately offered my apartment as a place of rest for him.

It took months of convincing him that he was not a burden to get him to stay at my apartment on a more permanent basis. He still wouldn’t totally accept the help I had been giving for a long time. He wouldn’t even sleep in the guest bedroom I had in the apartment and insisted on sleeping on the couch. I had decided at the time that I had lost that battle with him and let him sleep on my lumpy couch, at least he wasn’t out in the cold.

I couldn’t tell anyone when exactly the relationship between the two of us shifted to something more. But, I could remember the night I had decided to act on my feelings that had been brewing for quite some time. I remembered it like it was yesterday too, it was one of the days Llewyn was being stubborn about accepting help from me. The only reason he had come over that night was because there were no other couches available for him to sleep on, and the rain outside had been far too heavy for him to justify sleeping in the cold again. He came to my place with a hesitant knock as if he was afraid I would refuse him, even though I had never done it before.

I wanted to berate him for not coming to me first and letting himself potentially get sick from walking in the rain house to house. It had reminded me too much of the first day I had found him in the cold, lips blue and practically inches from death.

Llewyn traipsing in from my bedroom broke me out of my reminiscing. He looked so good in the mornings, with his curls wild from last night’s activities and only a pair of boxers slung around his hips.

“Good Morning, Angel.” His deep voice in the morning sent shivers down your spine, in a good way.

I repeated the pleasantry back to him while he leaned forward to kiss my forehead, then asking him, “Do you know what today is?”

“No? Did I miss something important” He looked frantic, running his hands through his messy inky curls and scratching his scruff awkwardly.

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” I wasn’t surprised that he had forgotten the holiday, he hadn’t had someone properly take care of him in so long.

“Oh… I don't-“ He started to stammer before I cut him off with some reassurance.

“Don’t say sorry for not being able to get me anything, we’ve talked about this.” His shoulders slumped forward at my words, looking a little sad. Though I had assured him many times that the fact that he couldn’t shower me with gifts didn’t bother me and that I just wanted him he still couldn’t help but feel bad. I leaned up from my chair and pressed my own kiss to his forehead, stopping a moment to inhale his scent before continuing, “Angel, I just want to treat you today. There’s no need to apologize for something that’s out of your control and I don’t need anything I just want you.”

“I don't need anything either.” He immediately rebutted, causing me to sigh a little and bring my hand up to stroke his beautiful hair. “You might not need these things, but I want to give them to you.”

“Ok…”

His confirmation had me immediately hopping up from my chair and giving him instructions to find all of his gifts. I had decided to do a small little scavenger hunt, hiding all the gifts in what seemed to be plain sight. Everytime he got a little bit closer to one I’d tell him whether he was warm or cold.

“Cold.” I giggled out when he started to become convinced that I had hidden something in one of my flower pots.  He fake sighed in annoyance, he had already found the first gift, which was easy to find. It had been hidden in the cabinet and was fancy ground coffee that I knew he’d love whenever he needed a pick me up in the morning.

“Warm.” I said as he was making his way over to the loveseat that sat in the corner. He looked around the area for a while until he actually sat in the chair, which coincidentally was where the gift was hidden. “Hot, you are piping hot!”

He laughed a little and finally rooted around the love seat to try and find where I had hidden the gift. Once he finally found the gift that was underneath the seat he immediately opened the box, which held a new coat and a new pair of boots. I could tell that he knew they were expensive, way more so than the coffee.

“Thank you, I’m s-

“Nope! Remember no sorry’s!” I cut him off and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Now onto your last gift!”

He stood up to go hunting for the last gift, but not before pressing a bruising kiss to my lips and thanking me for the first two presents a few more times. I slapped his ass after a minute and told him to hurry up so he could have his morning cup of joe before I had to go to work, which prompted him to start looking for the last gift.

“Hot.” I spoke simply as he walked over to the coffee table. He was much quicker at finding this gift compared to the last.

When he finally reached the coffee table where the last gift was I could tell he wanted to insist that he didn’t need anything else. But, instead of letting him say it I reassured him again before asking him to open the red wrapped gift.

He tore the paper gently as if he didn’t want to ruin the paper even though it was just plain wrapping, he was always so gentle. Uncovering the small black box that held his surprise made his hands shake a little, I knew he thought this would be another gift that he would feel he didn’t deserve. But, in my opinion this gift was a long time coming.

When he opened the box he gasped once he realized what the little black box held, a shiny silver key. One that matched the key I used to get into the apartment. There was a key that Llewyn already used when he wanted to come over and I wasn’t home, one that was hidden above my door frame. This held a different meaning though, by the look on Llewyn’s face and the tears in his eyes he knew what it meant too. He enveloped me into a suffocating hug that I’d never dream of wanting to escape, burying his face into my shoulder and dampening my shirt with the tears.

We just stood in silence in our embrace for a few minutes before I spoke softly while rubbing his back, “This is my apartment, but I want it to be yours too.”

“Why?” His question was muffled into my shoulder, but I could still hear the shakiness in his voice.

“You know why.” The hidden meaning in my words weren’t lost to Llewyn, he knew exactly what I was saying. We had never spoken the words out loud to each other, only dancing around what we both knew was true. I knew Llewyn was scared, even though I had never done anything to hurt him so many people had done so in the past. So, I didn’t mind waiting to confess my love to him, just as long as he knew how much I cared about him.

“I love you.” He spoke meekly as if after all of this, he was still instinctively afraid of rejection. I’d make sure to never give Llewyn more reasons to fear love, I would love him back with all my heart. I pressed a chaste kiss onto his lips before making sure to return the sentiment,

“I know, I love you too.” And, I knew that he’d use his new key too.

——

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin

Llewyn Davis:

[dropofgoldensun]

lilacs | p.jm. (bts)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: florist au, fluff

word count: 800

warnings: none

summary: jimin has always given you flowers — since he’s the main worker at the florist shop and that’s his job — but he’s never actually given you flowers. until today.

a/n: my friend @euphoria-vmin7 and i were talking about timestamps and florist jimin (because who doesn’t want to talk about florist jimin?) and uhhh somehow this happened and i texted this to her and she was like POST IT so here this is XD i don’t usually write fics for bts and i’m sorry if this sucks, but this is dedicated to you miss rey, thank you for inspiring me 💖💖💖

(also i’m still having tag issues so this is a repost, sorry T^T)

The small flower shop by the beach has always been one of your favorite places to visit. At times you’ve found yourself there, sometimes browsing, occasionally buying, but often talking to the lovely florist with the chocolatey brown hair.

He had told you his name was Jimin, and ever since the first time you’ve set foot in his shop, he’s always been helpful in suggesting flowers for whatever occasion you bring to him. He also seems to have a special talent for assembling bouquets — never overdone yet never lacking, and every single flower is arranged perfectly, not a petal out of place.

Yet one day you come to him in distress, longing to be comforted by the warm glow of the late afternoon sun and the boy who now occupies a rather large space in your heart. In a few months, all your closest friends since childhood will be moving to universities, while you have chosen to stay in the same town you grew up in.

You tell him none of this, but he notices your expression and wordlessly brings out a bouquet from behind the counter. How did he make it so soon after you walked through the door?

Unless… he had started it earlier…

And he gives it to you, a textured array of purples and pinks. “What’s this?” you ask.

“It’s for you,” he says, the tips of his ears turning red. “I — I’ve been meaning to make you one for a while.”

You gently touch one of the larger flowers, the petals feeling velvety under your fingers. “For… me?”

“Yeah,” he says, hoping you don’t notice how flustered he’s getting.

Knowing Jimin, he was a flower expert and never added anything without first giving it a great deal of thought. “What do they mean?” you ask, the plastic wrap crinkling loudly in the small shop as you lower it and gaze up at him.

He feigns innocence. “What does what mean?”

“The flowers, what do they represent?”

“Oh, um…” He bites his bottom lip nervously and gestures to the pink flowers. “These are peonies. They represent prosperity, compassion, and sometimes shyness.” Hmm, now that he mentions it, you are starting to feel a bit shy in his presence. Maybe he’s right about that last part.

“And these, uh…” He points to the small flowers that are a darker shade of purple. “These magenta ones are lilacs. They symbolize passion, and — and I remember you told me about your passion for music and dance… so that’s why I added them. Mmhm.”

But you realize that the entire time, he hasn’t yet mentioned the lighter purple flowers — a different kind of lilac, since they look similar to the ones he’s just described. They’re the most abundant in the bouquet, but he hasn’t explained them yet. Almost as if he’s been avoiding bringing it up.

“And what are these ones?” You hold up one of the buds with a lifted finger.

“Um…” He visibly swallows, and he immediately realizes that maybe he’s made a mistake in giving this to you. “Umm…”

You wait patiently for his answer, which he eventually delivers. “Theymeanfirstlove,” he says quickly, his cheeks flushing.

You lean forward to hear better. “What was that?”

“They — they mean… first love,” he mumbles. “And so do the rest of them,” he confesses. “They all mean — they mean love.” And he glances up to see your reaction, only to find that your face is just as red as his. “Y-yeah,” he finishes awkwardly and looks away. “Sorry…”

“Sorry?” You stare at him in awe. “Jimin, this is — this is really sweet of you, thank you.” You hand it back to him, careful not to mess up the bouquet, and that’s when Jimin knows that he’s made a huge mistake. He’s ruined it, hasn’t he, he’s ruined his friendship with you, and he’s —

“For you too,” you say, trying to stare at anything else that isn’t him out of embarrassment. “I — I mean all of those things, too, Jimin.”

His mouth forms an “O” shape and his eyes widen. “So… you’re saying… you feel the same w—”

His words are abruptly cut off by the sensation of your lips to his cheek. “Yeah,” you say shyly as you step back. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then is it okay if I —” He stops, glancing between your irises for any sign of permission. He finds it in the way your eyes crinkle as you smile, and takes that as his cue to lean forwards and press his plush lips against yours.

As sunlight ventures into the shop through wooden blinds, the beams dance over your back and the collar of Jimin’s shirt, illuminating the room with the final light of the day and the first light for the two of you.

[theanimesideblog]

Nishinoya x Kiyoko’s Adopted Brother!Reader: Realization TW: internalized homophobia if you squint, mean noya Summary: Nishinoya despises you for being so perfect, and you want to know why he hates you. The truth comes out, albeit not the truth that Nishinoya wanted A/N: the adopted part isn’t central to the story but i didn't want anyone to feel like they couldn’t read it bc they don’t look like kiyoko. and uhhh i’m not super proud of this BUT NOYA IS DEFINITELY LIKE GAY OR SMTH THAT MAN ISNT STRAIGHT my gay ass refuses to believe he’s straight

“Goodnight, guys.” You said, waving enthusiastically as you and Kiyoko walked off toward your home. The team bids the two of you goodbye before going their separate ways.

Noya and Tanka were walking together, making idle chat before they would eventually go split up. The streetlight bounced off their tired forms as they grew closer to their destination.

“I’m kinda glad our practices are taking up more time this year. It’s nice to see (Y/N) after school. Lunch is never enough time around that dude.” Tanka said, out of the blue while the two of them talked about your sister. Noya blushed, thankful for the low streetlight.

“Yeah.” Noya mumbled.

“He’s hilarious too! I mean, it’s almost mean how much (Y/N) teases Hinata. Luckily Hinata’s got great spirit and is too gullable to take things seriously.” Tanka said.

“Uh huh.”

“You good man? Why are you sluggish?” Tanka asked. Noya shook his head and rubbed his face.

“I’m just... tired. All that studying for exams is killing me.” Noya lied. Tanka smiled and hit Noya on the back.

“Don’t I know it. Get some rest tonight. Can’t have our guardian sleeping on the job.” Tanka said. Noya smiled.

“In your dreams.” Noya said. Tanka shivered.

“More like my nightmares, ugh.” Tanka said.

Despite Tanka’s pleas for sleep, Noya found himself wide awake as the moon slowly made her way across the sky. His mind kept drifting back to you or, more accurately, the way you made him feel.

Noya hated you. He hated your damn smile, your infectious laughter, your humorous jokes, your kindness. Hell, Noya could probably write a textbook on all your faults.

If he had to pick one thing he hated the most about you, it would be your arrogance. You must have gotten love confessions from every girl in the school, minus your sister. Yet, you turned them all down. If Noya were in your shoes, he would never break all those hearts like that.

It irked Noya. No one ever loved him like that, but everyone loved you. Everyone wanted to eat lunch with you, go on dates, or just be your friend. Sometimes, Noya felt like Tanka liked you better than he liked Noya.

Even Noya found himself getting lost in your eyes a couple of times. You were enchanting, and Noya hated that about you.

-*-

You were sitting against the wall, doing homework as you waited for Kiyoko to finish up volleyball practice. Your club always finished before hers, and you refused to let her walk home alone in the dark. On more busy practices, you would help the team. Today was more relaxed, though, in order to let the boys recover a bit from yesterday.

There was one last question in your English packet to answer. You started to write the answer, when you heard Dachi yell, “(Y/N)!! LOOK OUT!!”

You quickly slid against the wall and onto the floor before registering where the ball was. It bounced right above your head and ricocheted onto your stomach. You let out a small groan, thankful that most of the ball’s power and speed hit the wall instead of your head. Kiyoko was already at your side.

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking you over for any bruises. Other than your neck hurting from sliding down at such a weird angle, you were fine. You sat back up.

“Yeah, thanks to Dachi.” You said. You sent a smile to the captain, who was scolding Noya for being so reckless. You frowned and handed the ball to Kiyoko.

“Ah, maybe I should move somewhere else?” You said. “Perhaps even sitting outside until I finish my work.” Kiyoko gave you a gentle smile.

“Only if you want too.” She said. “Practice is almost over, anyway.” You shrugged, deciding to stay in your spot.

The rest of practice went accident free. You helped the boys clean up the gym, eager to get home. Hopefully, a warm shower would ease the pain in your neck. If not, ice should do the trick.

But Kiyoko had to stay and talk some things over with the Coach while the boys went to get changed. You opted to lean against the wall and scroll through your phone as the two conversed outside of the gym.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. I think if it was a real game-” Coach Ukai started, but was cut off by the gym door opening. The janitor was there with a jacket in his hand.

“I’m assuming this is one of your boys’?” He said. Kiyoko took it from him, showing the coach the volleyball club detailing on the back.

“It is. Sorry about that. Won’t happen again.” Coach Ukai said. The janitor nodded and went back into the gym. Kiyoko turned to you.

“I think someone is still in the clubroom. Would you mind seeing who is still here? I would go, but I’m not allowed in the boys’ club room.” Kiyoko said. You took it from her and nodded.

You checked the tag of the jacket, hoping to see a name. You found none, but you noticed it was a small size. That meant that it was either Hinata’s or Nishinoya’s. You hoped it was the former, since Hinata actually liked you.

You knew Nishinoya didn’t like you, but you weren’t sure why. He didn’t hide his emotions as well as he might have thought he did. You caught the sneers and the frowns. You wondered if he didn’t like you since you told him and Tanaka off one day after they flirted with Kiyoko. But Tanaka liked you.

It didn’t bother you that Nishinoya didn’t like you. You knew you couldn’t please everyone, but it was uncomfortable to be around him. Which sucked, since you two shared a lot of friends. What really hurt was how he was with others.

Nishinoya seemed like the most genuine person you knew. He always spoke up about what was on his mind and make sure everyone knew it. It was an attractive quality of his, yet he never offered it to you. His double nature made distrust him, unsure why he was so cold around you.

You opened the door to the clubroom and, to your dismay, Nishinoya was looking around for his jacket. His head whipped to see who entered, a bright smile plastered on his face. It dropped when he saw you.

The heavy door shut behind you, which felt suffocating. You almost got hit by Nishinoya today and he hadn’t apologized or even attempted to smooth things over. That was probably the worst part; he hadn’t shown you the decency to at least make some sort of effort. At least he didn’t blame you, or you hoped he didn’t to be more accurate.

“I think this is yours. You left it in the gym.” You said, holding out the jacket. Nishinoya snatched it from your hands. He slipped it on and turned to his bag. You frowned and crossed your arms.

“‘Thanks, (Y/N).’ No problem, Nishinoya. By the way, Coach might say something to you. ‘Thanks for the heads up, (Y/N).’ You’re welcome, Nishinoya.” You said aloud. Nishinoya turned back and gave you a pointed stare. “You’ve been rude to me all day! Don’t give me that look.”

“Me? What the hell did I do?” Nishinoya asked, his voice raising.

“First of all, you practically ignored all day, again, in school and practice. Then, you almost hit me with a volleyball, which I get it was an accident, but you didn’t apologize or make an effort. And now you’re ignoring me again after I came up here to give you your jacket. I have no idea what your issue is with me, but if you keep this up, I’ll give you a reason to hate me.” You said. Nishinoya turned away with a huff.

“I don’t hate you, alright?” He said, standing up. “Now, could you move? I’m trying to leave.” You leaned against the door, blocking his way out. He frowned and mirrored you by crossing his arms.

“What’s your deal with me, anyway?” You asked. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”

“I don’t have a problem with you! Can you please just move?” He asked. That was probably the first time he had said please to you.

You crossed your legs in response as if you were getting comfortable in your spot. Nishinoya gripped your arm and tried to push you. His strength caught you off guard, causing you to grab his arm to catch yourself from falling. The awkward angle and tangled limbs somehow found Nishinoya’s back against the door while your arms boxed him in, your faces inches apart.

Nishinoya’s breathing got shallow as his cheeks started to dust with pink. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and all he wanted to do was punch the breathless look on your face. Thoughts of violence vanished when his eyes caught sight of your lips for a second.

You, however, didn’t feel any of this energy. You felt angry and upset. This close, however, you were able to catch his gaze on your lips. It was brief, but you saw it. Instantly, the lights when on in your head.

“I know why you’re always so rude to me.” Your voice hushed, causing shivers to run up Nishinoya’s back. He had been so rude for so long that you were getting a kick out of his eager expression. For once, it felt good to be on the other side. “You like me.”

Nishinoya’s hands went up to your shoulders. He gave you a harsh shove that sent you to the floor. You weren’t quick enough to catch yourself, landing on your back. You hissed in pain as your back came in contact with the hard floor, some of the air leaving your lungs.

Nishinoya’s eyes widened while his hands shook. “I’m not gay!” He shouted, before opening the door and running away quickly.

You groaned, sitting up. You lightly slapped your head. “Fuck, I really messed that up.”

~*~

For the rest of the week, Nishinoya refused to meet your eyes and would make an excuse anytime you were near. You felt a twinge of guilt every time he left or refused to meet your eyes.

Maybe you had gotten it wrong, but the way he looked at you in that moment, the way his eyes dared to linger, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly made you sure he was gay and he liked you. You had definitely come on too strong, though. You were embarrassed and eager to make amends.

You were coming up with an apologize when the bell ring, signaling that class was over. You were slow to move, exhausted after staying late with the team. You spotted Nishinoya’s own sluggish movements as he slowly gathered his things.

You looked around the classroom, noticing it was empty. It was now or never.

You walked over and stood in front of Nishinoya’s desk. He refused to look up at you, making your stomach twist in anxiety. You bent down.

“Nishinoya, I’m really sorry. I crossed a boundary I shouldn’t have and I... I just got really excited to know there was another gay person in my friend group, ya know? Anyway, I totally deserve the cold shoulder. You don’t even have to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m sorry and I’m aware I crossed a line.” You said, pausing to see if he would respond. Instead, he stayed perfectly still. You felt your heart twist. You stood up and started to walk towards the door when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry. I treat you like shit and you’ve never once gotten angry. You’ve always been kind and understanding. I also hurt you, which was uncalled for.” You turned to face him and smiled. He was bent over, like you were before.

“I guess we’re both dicks, huh?” You said. Nishinoya smiled despite himself. He looked up at you, smiling at one of your jokes for the first time.

“I guess so... but I have to tell you something.” Nishinoya stood up and took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about what you said and... you’re right. I hate that you’re right, but you’re right. I’m... gay. I mean, it was so obvious I didn’t want to believe it. When you said it, I got so angry because I knew it was true. I was also upset that you noticed. I didn’t want anyone to know, but here I am telling you, who’s basically a stranger. I mean, I never learned anything about you and here I am, coming out to you.”

“I’m proud of you. If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them. I understand where you’re coming from. If Kiyoko didn’t help me through it, I think I would’ve reacted the same way.” You said. Nishinoya blinked in shock.

“Oh...! Wait, is she-“

“You didn’t notice that she’s a lesbian?” You asked, eyes wide. Nishinoya seems to shrink away. You burst out into laughter.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s soooo funny! You acted like you had the biggest crush on her, yet you didn’t know she was gay! Ohmygosh!” You said in between laughter. Despite himself, Nishinoya laughed with you.

Once you composed yourself, you nodded to the door.

“Hey, you’re gonna be late to practice if you don’t hurry up, ya know?” You said. Nishinoya felt a small blush cross his cheeks.

“Yeah. Um, there’s just one thing. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. I never made an effort to try to be nice to you so... would you let me make it up to you?” Nishinoya said. You tilted your head.

“You don’t have to. I totally understand-“

“I want to take you out on a date!” He blurts out. You smile.

“Yeah?” He nods. “Alright then. What were you thinking?” He opens and closes his mouth.

“I didn’t think I’d get that far.” You let out a small laugh.

“It’s okay. Why don’t we start small and get a bite to eat after practice?” You ask.

“What about Kiyoko? You always take her home.” Noya says. You nod.

“It’s okay. She and Yachi are going to the bus stop together.” He smiles at you.

“Okay. Okay then! It’s a date.”

[snackhobi]

content creator year in review ✨

I was tagged by a BUNCH of people: @yeojaa​ @jinpanman​ @personasintro​ @suga-kookiemonster​ @chillingkoo​ @yeoldontknow​ (thank you all so much for including me in your posts HELP???)

first creation and most recent creation of 2020: my first creation was technically strike a chord, even if I didn’t actually publish it first (I was having issues with appearing in tags and I didn’t have any followers so I deleted it until I had some traction OOPS) and my most recent is cream & suga! so I started with yoongi and ended with yoongi! I guess that’s consistency for you

one of your favorite creations from 2020: oh, wow. this is a hard one. I think I’d have to say a human touch, because it was the one I struggled with the most- so when I finally finished it, it felt SO good. and everyone’s been so lovely, I can’t help but feel happy that I’ve created something that people enjoy.

a creation you’re really proud of: burning bright. I wrote it across two days and it was hard going but it was fun and I’m really proud of how it turned out, and I hope erin still likes it fdslkjdsf

a creation that took you forever: a human touch. it technically took months to write; I got blocked during it and had to work on other things, and I had to rework a lot of stuff. so glad I got it done and I had people supporting me!!

a creation from 2020 that received the most notes: helping hands, which is currently at 2222 notes 😳

a creation you think deserved more notes: idk about “deserved”, but I really loved writing finding home and I think the premise is cute!

a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: I’ve been an ARMY since uhhh 2016? so bts isn’t a new fandom for me but it’s the only thing I’ve created things for this year whoopsy

a creation you made that breaks your heart: wow most of my creations are marshmallow fluff so this is a hard one HMM.... things you said after it was over, probably. covid has led to me seeing my friends far less than normal and I was feeling really isolated early this year, and I ended up thinking about an old friend who I loved dearly and fell out of touch with. which is where the feelings in this fic come from. so there’s a lot of heartache around that, for me personally

a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: heavy lifting; I’m calling it “simple” because it was super self indulgent and I didn’t put a lot of effort into it, but it was a lot of fun and it’s made people laugh! so that’s nice

a creation that was inspired by another one: hmm technically a human touch because it’s a detroit: become human au, so I guess you could say it was inspired by that? and burning bright is a pacific rim au so that, too?

a favorite creation created by someone else: oh god I’ve read some INCREDIBLE fics this year so this is NOT a representation of all my faves, this is just a small sliver (I’m in the process of setting up a fic reading blog so I can actually keep track of what I’ve read and enjoyed):

devil in a new suit by @yeojaa magnificat by @yeoldontknow greedy by @xjoonchildx unbroken by @sahmfanficbts finding bigfoot by @bloomsuga hug-o-gram by @cinnaminsvga into the wilderness by @gukyi

some of your favorite content creators from the year: everyone above, amongst others!! I’ve been out of sorts these past few months, I’m usually incredibly organised but I find myself discombobulated and incredibly forgetful. please watch this space for when I set up my fic reading blog 

and for good measure, another couple more creations of yours that you love: UMMMM midnight confessions because I love hobi. okay BYE

tagging: I’m fairly certain all my moots have been tagged in this by now?? 🤔🤧

[thecozycryptid]

Here it is, the most recent chapter of A Reminder!

A Reminder, Chapter 8:

Sinking Man

Characters: Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler), Mortimer Toynbee (Todd Tolansky, The Toad), Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch), Talia Wagner (Nocturne, mentioned).

Relationships: Nightcrawler/Toad, Nightcrawler/Scarlet Witch, Scarlet Witch/Toad (implied).

Rating: Mature (implied sexual content)

Warnings: How to you bring a Toad back from stasis?

Fic Summary: Set 20 years after X-Men Evo, into the original X-Men and X2 movies and far beyond, Wanda and her family get an unexpected visit from someone they haven’t seen in over 15 years.

Chapter tags: Gracious amounts of mutual pining, TLC (Toad loving care), disaster yearning

Chapter extract:

[[MORE]]

After another ten minutes of so, Mortimer pushed himself up once again, resting back against the end of the tub with his head laying back on the lip and Kurt tried not to think about their hands still resting on his thigh. “Heeey Nightcreeper.” Mortimer murmured, voice hoarse and half-asleep.

Kurt’s smile returned in full force and he shifted to lean his free arm over the edge of the tub, resting his face comfortably against his sodden sleeve. “Guten morgen freund...It looks like you and Talia had quite the adventure.”

Mortimer grimaced, thrashing his head in a weak shake. “Did uhh...Did you know that Talia sleepwalked?”

“...What?”

“Did you know—“

“Yes, I know, I heard you, but what do you mean? What happened?”

The fellow mutant’s grimace softened into a confused frown, his eyes trailing around the small room as though it would give him answers. “She just— I was—...I was just chillin’ on the bench outside and she up and started goin’ for a trek around the fields. So I followed her ‘cause I’m not a damn idiot and she went though that..whatsitcalled? Tree area...Place? Man, my brain’s not working. It’s like, melting or some shit.”

Kurt frowned deeper, tilting his head to the side. “It’s okay, take your time.”

“Uhhh...”

“You walked through the forest...”

“Yeah, that, so she went to a big-ass pond and scooped mud and stuff up in her hair — it was really weird dawg, I mean, it was crazy— um, not that she’s crazy, tha’s not what I— anyway, so Talia climbed the trees over to an island on the pond and she...she started dancing and there were fireballs and there were humans living across from us so I jumped in to save her and now I’m freezing my bare ass off in a bath with my crush mooning over me like I’m a damsel in distress? What the fuck even...”

Kurt’s heart leapt, his jaw dropping as his brain short-circuited for a second at his confession and his hand tightened around Mortimer’s, before Mort pulled away, letting go of their hands suddenly to drag his own down his face, groaning lowly into them with shame and rubbing his eyes harshly before he seemed to get a grip on his thoughts again, pushing his hands up into his still somewhat muddy hair. Then he seemed to pause, looking at Kurt like a deer in the headlights, his eyes still vaguely unfocused, still not-all-there. “Don’t tell Wanda, she’ll kill me.”

Kurt’s mouth pressed into a thin line, looking over to the door as guilt started bubbling in his chest once again. “Mortimer...I can’t—“

“‘Cause I’ve got a huge crush on her too and that would be super awkward, and I don’t think I can handle that.”

What could he even say to that? Kurt’s head spun and it was all he could do not to freak out in some way, maybe grip Mortimer’s shoulders and demand why he hadn’t told him sooner, or why he was telling him at all? Was he just delirious? What should he tell Wanda? What the fuck?!

Kurt dropped his head against the porcelain with a quiet ‘thunk,’ willing the cool temperature of it to soothe his brain and the incoming migraine that was definitely surfacing. He quickly gave up on that ounce of hope when it became very obvious that it wasn’t going to go away on its own. “Mortimer, why are you telling me this?”

The Toad looked over at him, eyes still manic and sleepy and gorgeous and he grinned that same smarmy smirk he had when he was a teen and a short, hysterical chuckle escaped his throat. He shrugged, resting his elbows up on the sides of the tub.

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