#dev writes

[penvisions]

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 781

Warnings: filth, sloppy blow job, praise, pet names, joel is just a beautiful man okay, adult content, unprotected p in v, smut, oral (m receiving), pussy pronouns, soft dom! joel, eager sub! reader, reader has no description but has hair that can be pulled back easily

A/N: inspired by true events, excuse the v early morning queue for this utter depraved filth i jotted down before bed (kinda chef! joel and professor! reader coded)

navigation || drabble masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“You’re so god damn pretty.” You can only hum around the hard length of him, mouth stuffed full. One hand around the base of him, the other holding you steady as it spread over his massive thigh, soft hair there tickling your palm in the best way.

He moaned out at the feeling, his hands fighting where they fisted your hair and pulled it away from your face to see you better. It had fallen from where it was tucked behind your ears when you swallowed him down, the head of his cock sliding right into the back of your throat.

Rough palms and fingers caressed your face, hands reaching down past your bare shoulders to tweak a hardened nipple had you relaxing your jaw to feel all of him, drool pooling at the base of him from your lips, trailing down to the soft skin of his balls. But when he moved to mirror the action with the other one, he pinched hard.

Gasping hard the shining, slick weight of his cock slipped from your mouth.

A throaty chuckle sounded in the air, glazed eyes taking in the beautiful sight of him sprawled out before you. His dark eyes watching the strand of spit that connected your bottom to the head of his ruddy cock. God, it was so pretty.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't ya darlin'?"

"Mhm," Is all you can manage as you pant, looking up from between his thighs. He thumbed at your bottom lip, breaking the line of bubbling spit that kept you connected to him. Sucking the digit into your mouth, you hummed again. Words not working, mind not thinking. All you knew at that moment was Joel, Joel, Joel.

You licked, from the messy base of him all the way to his leaking slit with a flattened tongue, enjoying how the broken grunt from his plush lips lit you up. You were bare, your own arousal pooling in your core and shining on your thighs, clit jolting at every move, every sound, every sensation of moving together with him in this intimate way. Heat enveloping you as it burned underneath your skin.

You gripped him tight, pumping him a few times before you opened your lips wide and swallowed him down once again. Bobbing your head, you felt him hit the back of your throat with every nuzzle of your face into the soft bush of hairs that his cock was nestled in.

“Fuck, you gotta let me- she must be cryin’ for me. I gotta feel her squeezin’ me,” With a dirty pop, you released him from your mouth, kissing your lips to the velvet soft hardness you had come to crave. He sighed at the softness of you, the way you seemed so completely lost to anything but him at the moment. And he reveled in it.

"Best I ever had, so pretty and such a good listener." His arms hooked underneath your shoulders, helping to pull you up and into his lap.

Hands gripping tight to your hips, his fingers sunk into the give of your ass, making him moan at how well you filled them. With a whine, you rutted against him. Your outer lips, slick with your own arousal and the spit from your mouth allowing him to glide through them. The head of his cock caught on the hood of you, clit taking all the pressure and you cried out.

“She can take it, we know she can, don’t we?” Joel ground his hips up, rocking himself against you hard enough to send white sparks on the backside of your eyelids.

“I want you to look at me while she takes it, be a good girl for me.” Your eyes flew open to heed his command, feeling him reach down to take ahold of himself. He tapped himself against your clit, the wet smack of it jolting you into an arch. But you didn’t dare break your eyes away from his. “Such a pretty girl, so good for me.”

Head prodding, you could feel him breech, stretching you with just that little part. He slowly filled you up, hand still on your hip guiding you to lower onto him. Your lashes fluttered when your hips settled flush over his own. His teeth bared as he felt you clench, a twitch deep in you in response and then suddenly he was pulling you to him, cradling your upper body as he got his feet underneath him and began to pound up into you.

Crying out, your hands locked around his neck. Bare chests pressed together as the wet smack of skin on skin filled the bedroom.

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @littlemisspascal @morallyinept @undercoverpena @joelsgreys

[deviantly-inspired]

Ok so I've seen the idea of food 'made with love' being what Dream enjoys most but I really think we, as a collective fandom, need to lean in more to the idea of it, actually.

We KNOW from the comics that Dream eats food; that he was starving after his freedom. But even though he's hungry, even in the waking world, he won't eat because there's been nothing but bad intentions and malice directed to him for over a hundred years. He's wary. Like a spooked horsed.

But Hob Gadling has always been so unashamedly fond of Dream, that it's... tempting. to indulge.

(it's more than tempting. He's already starving: for dreams for nightmares for softness for sharpness. Hob is the only person Dream knows that he would take any of it from. If Hob were to offer him poison then Dream would take it gladly, if only to have something to fill the void within him. How miraculous it is, then, that Hob would only every offer succor)

So maybe Dream stares at some home-made food that's being eaten on some picnic while they're about. And Hob needles him just a bit, trying to get some information. What all goes into being Dream of the Endless? And Dream enjoys their wordplay and games so he dances around answering but his gaze keeps going back to that soft little picnic, not too far. Hob steers the conversation towards intent, and Dream admits that, yes, he can sense the intent things are made with, before directing the conversation to something a little safer then the art of consuming.

(Dream would take and take and take and take anything that Hob would give him. Even poison. And would thank him for the malaise of it. It is safer, then, to not let even the hint of hunger touch his waking form.)

But Hob didn't get to over 600 by being a slouch on his academics. He's smart. perceptive. He knows people, and Dream is certainly a 'people' even if he's not quite a person. So he makes something simple, that night. A stew maybe, and thinks of his mother's care and simple wishes whispered to the cast iron. love and kitchen magic. Spells for healthy children and a meal that will fill for longer than it should. Hob wonders, to this day, if maybe she was some sort of real witch and not just the magic that all good mothers are. But he can't ask her so he whispers wishes into his potatoes and encourages the bone to seep fully- he's going to be all bones like you if you don't fill him up- and thanks the meat for it's part and imagines it sticking to the inside of whatever Dream calls ribs to keep him going for a bit longer than he might have otherwise.

(there's all sorts of magic in the world. most of it regular folks will never get to touch. but there is a type of magic, the oldest kind, that's alive and well even in the most scientifically inclined people.)

Hob presents this stew casually. There's no fooling Dream though. It's simple appearance does nothing to hide all that was poured into it. The way the vegetables sing of harbors and the meat dreams of comfort. How the broth simmers with comfort and fullness and broken bread over centuries. love thickens the whole of it into something that will last. Something that will stick and keep him full long past when he should be hungry. To fill the most ravenous parts of him. He wants to consume. He cannot.

I shouldn't, Dream says.

It's yours, Hob replies. I made too much anyway. Wouldn't want this to go to waste.

The idea of it wasting, left to rot, a gift returned, is abhorrent. Dream never claimed to abide by the mortal concept of good. He eats the stew, and then the second bowl and then the third. And hob is only too happy to give him more and more and more, until the pot is empty and, still, Dream starves.

I shouldn't, Dream says with his eyes locked on Hob's lips.

I'm yours, Hob replies. I've always been yours. There's enough of me to pour into you, however much you want for however long you want.

I will want you endlessly, Dream warns with what little strength he has. There is nothing in me that does not hunger. I was born of Night most of all and this means that I know what it is to be a black hole, i know what it is to consume everything, even light, and still never be full.

Hob smiles and leans forward and pours himself into Dream's mouth, all of himself, all that he can spare and then more and more and more. He tastes like lightening and warm broth and bread broken under starry skies. It tastes like every daydream Hob has had for 600 years. It tastes like the knowledge that this will last, sticking to the inside of his ribs warming from within bolstering against that which would sap the meat from your bones. It tastes like something that will last.

(the oldest magic across every universe is love, of course. but you knew that already.

All stories return to their original form, after all.)

[devils-dares]

Top of the Class

summary: you and matt could not be further from each other, he's unlike you in every way and you hate him for it, but something always draws the two of you back to each other.

pairing: college!matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW 18+ minors DNI, this is basically hate sex with a little softness at the end, semi-established relationship?? (they're enemies)

wordcount: 858

a/n: first smut whaaaat?

feedback is always appreciated!

-----

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The noise of his headboard hitting the wall did absolutely nothing to deter you from making even more noise, the pistoning of his hips stealing away any semblance of thought from you. His large forearms bracket your head, his lips mere inches from yours.

"How's it feel, huh? How's it feel being fucked 'by the likes of me'?" He uses your earlier words against you, having overheard a conversation between you and your friends.

You moan pathetically in response, nails dragging down his back to leave raised red tracks in their wake, he curses and drops his head, sucking marks into your skin.

"Did you finally realize you're nothing but a whore? Fucking around with all those prep boys yet you're sneaking into my room at night just to get a good fuckin’? Such a naughty girl." One of his hands leaves the support he has on the bed to hold your neck, squeezing just enough to limit your air intake and have that delicious emptiness in your brain become evermore delirious.

"Can't even fucking talk, hm? You gonna cum?" You nod, and he laughs at you, "Poor you, too bad. Hold it." You whine at his words but do as he says. You have no reason to, but his domineering position has you in literally and figuratively a chokehold, so you comply anyways.

He sits up, grabbing your thighs to push your legs over his shoulders. He gives you no warning but a little smirk and a dark chuckle before he resumes fucking you. He hits that spot, which annoyingly, only he can hit and you squeal.

"Don't hold back," he whispers, "I want everyone in this goddamned house to hear you scream.'' He starts thrusting harder, resulting in you and the bed being the loudest you possibly can.

"Matty, Matty, please," you say and he laughs at you again.

"What are you begging for, brat? Use your big girl words for a change, thought you were top of your class." You're afraid to request, however, feeling as though he'd make fun of you for what you wanted.

"Say what you want, whatever you wish I'll grant it." He says, and you're left wondering how he can exert so much energy yet have so much breath left to talk to you.

"Closer, pl-please." His hips stutter for half a second, and then he picks up the pace.

"Awh, you want me closer? Alright babybug." You hated when he called you petnames, but so long as he granted your wish, which he did, you didn't care.

"Gonna cum!" You squeal into his shoulder. He brings you impossibly closer to his body, and you can feel his abs flex with every thrust.

"Matty please," you beg, "can I cum?" He tuts at you.

"You're so far gone, aren't you, pretty girl? Yes, you can cum for me." He feels you tighten around him, grunting as you arch your back into him and practically scream his name. He fucks you through it, and only slows when he feels you squeezing his shoulder.

"Too much?" He asks softly, and you nod.

"I can stop, princess." You shake your head quickly.

"I want-" You have to take a breath to finish your statement, the aftershocks of your orgasm still washing over you, "want you to finish in me." He squeezes your hips and drops his head to your shoulder.

"Can't just say stuff like that, angel." You feel him tenderly resume his thrusts, groaning deeply into your neck as you squeeze around him.

You feel him throb inside of you, and if the tightening of his hands on your hips is anything to go by, he's close. You bring one of your hands up to his hair and give a gentle tug, coaxing him to "give it to me, Matty." He groans, and you feel him fill you up. You convince him to stay, his softening cock still tucked up inside of you while he lays his body weight on you.

"You alright?" He was always kind and gentle to you in the moments after, a stark contrast to your relationship outside the bedroom. You nod, feeling your eyes droop.

"I gotta go. Gonna fall asleep if I stay."

"Stay," he talks softly as if he were trying to lull you to dreamland, "I'll take care of you. Let me clean you up and dress you, I'll grab you a glass of water."

"You don't ha-"

"I'm offering, angel, let me." You nod and he does just as he says.

-----

The two of you lay in his bed, he's dressed in just boxers and you've thrown on panties and his shirt. Your ear is pressed against his chest, his heartbeat willing you to sleep.

"Thank you." You say sleepily.

"For?" He asks softly, hands running up and down your bare thighs.

"Letting me in."

"I'm not quite sure what that means, angel." But he won't get an answer, for you've fallen asleep on his chest. He vows to your sleeping figure that he won't move until you've woken, pressing a secret kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you too, angel."

[paperedking]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Batman: Death in the Family (Movie 2020), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Willis Todd, Joker (DCU), Shelia haywood, Bruce Wayne, the audience Additional Tags: Screenplay/Script Format, Blood and Injury, Tragedy, Emotional Hurt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Death, Drug Addiction, Non-Linear Narrative, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Character Resurrection, The Audience is a Character, The Audience is Complicit in Jason's Death/s, Stageplay Format Summary:

CATHERINE I keep dying.

YOUNG JASON Almost.

  Catherine hums, like she doesn’t want to tell Jason he’s wrong.

**poem used is practice makes permanent by m.a.w, @dvoyd​ on tumblr

[kingvierlan]

Clef, crashing into Kondraki's window: ‘M’ is just an upside down ‘W’ and ‘W’ starts with a ‘D’. Oh, also, ‘Y’ is just ‘V’ atop of a pole, and-

Kondraki, coming out of the shower with only a towel on: Get the, HELL out.

Clef's snarky ass: No.

[devvbabyy]

Forever and Ever

paring: Rhett Abbott x reader

cw: throwing up, sickness, hair loss, mentions of survival rates, light? angst, if i missed any please let me know!

foreword; Hi! This is my first ever drabble (that i’m posting) criticism is always appreciated but please do so nicely 🙂, lowercase intended. lightly based off lyrics of forever and ever amen by randy travis.

you were hunched over the toilet bowl just finishing your latest round of throwing up when you heard the stairs creek under rhett’s weight, he was just coming back in from tending to the horses and doing his morning rounds.

as the bathroom door got pushed open you heard rhett say in a low voice “oh baby, here let me get you a washcloth, do you want warm water or cold?”

“warm please” you croaked as you wiped the tears off of your face with your free hand that wasn’t holding you up.

“whadda ya need sweetheart” he whispered as he kneeled down to hand you the damp cloth and gathered your hair to get it out of your sweaty face.

you turned your head to look at him with your swollen eyes and replied “i just wanna get in bed honey, i don’t think i can make it, could you help me?”

“of course darlin’ cmon i got you” rhett gathered you up in his arms and made the short walk to your guy’s bed and gently placed you on it. he propped you up against his chest and grabbed a hair tie to start braiding your hair so it wouldn’t get in the way of your face.

As he grabbed the brush to start combing the knots out of your hair you could feel the strands coming loose. rhett gently started at the bottom and slowly worked his way up, he stopped a couple times to get the hair out of the bristles of the brush and you couldn’t bare to look at how much hair you had lost this time around.

three months ago you had gotten diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer, rhett has taken care of you through all of chemo appointments and the bouts of doctors appointments that seemed never ending. one thing that rhett always loved about you was your hair. dark brown, wavy, and almost always done in some type of braid.

early on in y’all’s relationship rhett had asked if you could teach him how to braid so he could do your hair as well as amy’s and any future daughters that you guys were sure that you would have. but that was before, before the diagnosis, before the 40% chance of survival, before the loss of your hair. you’ve tried to keep up with it as much as possible but at this point with how much your hair has thinned and the bald spots that were beginning to show you didn’t know what to do.

rhett got done braiding and you turned to look at him with a soft smile and a look of adoration. “thank you baby, i love you” you whispered as if it was the last time you would ever say it.

“oh darlin’ you know i would do it ten times over, forever and ever” he said with a quick kiss to your forehead as he laid you down.

a while later you woke up to the sun streaming through the curtains and realized that you must have nodded off sometime after rhett laid you down. you reached a hand behind you to feel the bed and was met with cold crumpled sheets. you push yourself up and look around the room you could hear rhett downstairs lightly singing to the radio that you guys had.

as you make your way to the bathroom you catch a glance of the razor that you use to cut rhett’s hair when it gets scraggly. you take a moment and think about your hair and how much easier it would be if you went ahead and shave it off, with a quick glance back you make the decision.

“rhett” you call downstairs with an uneasy tone in your voice.

“comin darlin” he replies as you hear footsteps start to make their way up the steps and into the bathroom.

as he enters he sees the razor in your hand that you grabbed as he was making his way into the bathroom. he stops and leans on the doorway with a quick glance to you, the razor, and you again. with a raised brow he asks “is it already haircut time for me again?” .

you chuckle and give a reply of “nope, it’s my time for a haircut” .

“o-oh?” is the only thing he lets out as he realizes what you mean. “baby, you wanna shave your head?” he asks.

a quick glance in the mirror makes you realize that this was going to happen sooner or later.

“can you do it for me, please” you ask him quietly with your eyes squeezed shut.

“of course sweetpea” is the reply that comes from your sweet husband.

as he goes to plug the razor in you take a breath and start to undo your braid, you run your fingers through your hair and more chunks had come out. that just solidifies your decision. rhett sits you on the counter and you turn around, hugging your knees to your chest.

he flips the switch to the razor to ON and looks at you through the mirror. with a final nod you close your eyes. he parts your hair and starts to run the razor along your scalp, you feel the hair start to fall down your shirt, onto the counter, into the sink.

2 minutes later you hear the razor go off. “okay darlin’ you can open your eyes now, it’s all done” he says as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “i didn’t think you could get any prettier but here we are” rhett whispers in your ear.

you let out a small giggle and open your eyes, as you look in the mirror and make eye contact you see rhett staring at you with pure love on his face. you move your eyes away from his and glance at your head, small peach fuzz was what your hair resembled now. you run your hand across the back of your head and let out a small sigh.

“what would i do with you you honey, thank you for doin this it means a lot” you say as you turn around to look him directly in the eye.

“you know i would do it ten times over sweetheart, forever and ever” he says as he plants a kiss on the top of your head.

[recusantalchemist]

i should probably state right now, half the weird sh- stuff i post here is just that- just weird random art i make. this is my place to vomit ideas and other forms of disorderly conduct worldbuilding. the official stuff or whatever you wanna call it- the things that end up canon or whatever will be on @regrowal-the-game. so no i dont plan to add demon girls and ponies to regrowal, i just wanted to make them because i got distracted for the 5000th time. but hey, if you want to mod them in some day, don't let me stop you.

can i interest you in some eye columns before you go?

[shaneshoodie]

Finally got farmers heart re formated and uploaded 3 chapters! I also renamed it.

So now it's

1) First Meeting

2) Flower Dance

3) 2 Heart Event

This fic follows the story of my farmer Dev and Shane!

[i-can-kazoo]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: The first dreamer Series: Part 1 of The Dreaming Summary:

This is a short piece of a larger story that I've been working on for some time. More characters to come.

[ackee]

friend sent me this and ive been steaming over it all day fr

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {masterlist}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

Word Count: 44.5k - ongoing

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little mean in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, arguing, heated interactions, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), jealousy, more to be added as the story develops!

A/N: hinted at this back around the holidays, but will soon be committing time to bring this to life!

ao3 link || main masterlist || ko-fi

fic teaser || fic teaser no.2 || sneakie peek || olive's song

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7

epilogue

[deviantly-inspired]

Dreamling concept

I absolutely love the 600 year slow burn to friendship and then wildfire romance that's in dreamling fics (it's IMMENSELY satisfying) but also, please consider:

after they finally (finally) become friends after 600 years they just... take their time, with romance. They spend years getting to know each other, genuinely, as friends. They don't know eachother, not really, until Dream has held Hob while he sobs over a loved one dying AND when he's seen Hob in his PJs eating ice cream out the pint because his students have stressed him out to the point of needing either ice cream or violence and Hob likes to think he chooses violence less often these days. And Hob doesn't really know Dream until he's heard that awful laugh, some unholy mix between braying donkey and the sound of magma shifting beneath the earth's crust OR until he's watched Dream scowl at the tele because they got to the last episode of "Game of Thrones" and Dream isn't any happier then anyone else is about a lot of those decisions.

And they spend days and weeks and years of being in one another's pockets. Choosing to come together again and again for a pint or a season binge or a silent supporting friend when the weight of living is a little harder. They earn each other's trust, and because they're both a little dense and maybe a lot more walking-wounded, the moment that each of them realizes that the other trusts them is, well, it's something that makes life worth living, for both of them.

Hob realizes Dream trusts him first, something small, something like Hob going to guide Dream out of the way and Dream just goes without any sort of hesitation. Not mountains or meteors could move Dream if he didn't want to, but he just goes to where Hob guides him out of the way so Hob can take the carrots out of the oven. It's enough to humble a man, and Hob might have a little cry over it later, in private, but for now he grins and tells Dream he has to try the carrots with the lamb, he hasn't lived until he's done so.

And Dream is a little slower to realize, I think. Because Hob is pretty open and friendly, it's a bit harder for Dream who's not so good with interacting with people face-to-face, to tell that Hob doesn't really get close to very many people for all that plenty seem to like him. There's a few exceptions, but even they are kept at a distinct distance. And it's maybe something small, like a small party or gathering of some of Hob's friends and it's late and folks are tipsy and Hob just kinda... dozes off against Dream. And Dream doesn't think anything of it, Hob does this quite often but Hob's other friends are immediately very surprised: Hob doesn't sleep in front of others, they explain. A relic from the war/traumatic past/whatever Hob's used to tell them. No matter how late or how tired or even how drunk he is, Hob would rather drive/bus/walk home then sleep where others can see him. You must be pretty special, one of them says. He even fell asleep on you like that: I've never seen him look so relaxed.

And I think that there's something beautiful about the slow, inescapable draw of it. It's like two meteors from opposite ends of the galaxy that have been on a collision course for eons. They both have moments of realizing that they're falling in love. They know it's going to happen, and the tension is slow and sweet and lovely. And there's no need to rush, because there's trust there too. Sometimes they'll meet gazes and they'll know, both of them, in that moment that they're in love. That, someday, what's growing between them is going to be a bloom unlike anything the universe has ever seen before. And they'll smile together and continue watching bad tv dramas or swapping gossip or sharing their pints and maybe their shoulders brush and their touches linger a bit longer that night but it's okay. There's no need to rush. They have forever after all.

And I think also that Dream is just a dramatic romantic enough of a bastard to confess to Hob on June 7, 2089 and i think Hob is just enough of a dramatic romantic to tell Dream that he certainly took his time.

I'm not late, am I, Dream will ask.

Of course not, Hob will laugh, you're exactly on time. We've plenty of it.

And in the Dreaming there will be a quiet warm breeze and gentle sunshowers as in the deepest heart of the dreaming a flower never before seen blooms awake. And in the waking two friends close the gap between them and talk about how Sally next door really needs to stop over watering her flowers she's going to drown the poor things, really.

And then they'll have the absolute longest courtship and engagement of anyone in the universe. There will be entire religions that will rise and fall before they get married. Pantheons will come into existence and be utterly dumbfounded when they're invited to Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling weddings because weren't they already married? They've been together since the beginning of it all.

It's be great.

[devils-dares]

i’m a sucker for sunshine reader and frank bye😫 i need more

this is not-so-secretly my favorite version of frank to write. here's some slice of life headcanons!

frank definitely gives you too much leeway with how everything goes. he comes home to a different apartment entirely as far as interior goes everytime he leaves.

you stay good on your promise to bedazzle one of his guns, he comes home to find a silver and black bedazzled gun with a smiley skull on the handle

he learns how to enjoy the simple things again. taking you to the park, to fairs and dates, he loves showing you off.

more on you, his photo album is filled with pictures of you in the brightest outfits and the biggest smiles. sometimes when he's away and life gets too tough, he comes back to those pictures and even calls you just to hear your voice.

he thinks you're the most magical thing ever. he swears to you that when you patch him up, he heals faster, but you tell him that he just likes it when your hands are on him. he laughs and nods, pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses.

you collect shot glasses from everywhere you go, so he's come home from trips with little glasses wrapped in protective layers. he came home in the middle of the night one time and handed you a shot glass that read 'welcome to paradise!' with palm trees on it before he passed out, slumped at your feet.

he'll never say, but he can't say no to you. no matter how ridiculous your request is, he'll let you do it. you wanted to learn how to wax your eyebrows to save money, so you asked to practice on him. the next time he visited curtis he was laughed at for about fifteen minutes, you'd taken off half his left eyebrow.

oftentimes, you ask him to help rearrange things when he's home or grab things from high places. you then make a stupid joke like "if only the punisher's enemies could see him now." he laughs and kisses you on the cheek.

[paperedking]

excerpts from a stageplay format jason fic that i'll probably never post

[kingvierlan]

So, I got another fict (Imaginative thought) that I got for y'all. This one is wholesome for the two, Kondraki and Clef. (PS: SORRY IF IT'S TOO LONG, I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS STORY.)

Kondraki goes to Clef's door, making sure he was alright. He knocks on the door, rather nicely than usual. More of those, gentle knocks. Clef answers, and scratches his eye. Clef looks up at him, having a sad but tired expression.

"I am having my mental break day and-"

Kondraki interrupts.

"Stop."

"Why?"

"Just..go and sit down. Let me in."

"Okay."

He lets Kondraki walk inside, as he puts his camera to the side. The butterflies swarm around him like usual. They then go for Clef, trying to comfort him. Kondraki, on the other hand, closes the door, grabbing his soft blanket, wrapping it around him. He then tried to give him a smile, which failed for him to smile back.

"Clef."

He calls. He's of course, worried about his buddy Clef. He's the main person he'd always check on first in the morning, then his son, Draven, then Meri. But this was serious. Clef needed some support, he needed hugs, but didn't ask. Kondraki decides to look at him.

"Look at me, Clef."

He decides to cup his face gently, looking at him. Clef looks back, but doesn't react. Clef thinks for a bit. (Why is he doing this to me? Is this..affection? Comfort? A form of..love? Whatever it is, it feels..rather nice.) He then focuses on what Kondraki's going to say next.

"Life doesn't always go as expected for one another."

Kondraki lets go of his face, and then places his hand toward his.

"If you leave things the way they are, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I want you to know that..I care about you. If anything, you're always the bastard I enjoy hanging out with."

Clef laughs a little, then, Kondraki thinks. (It's working! Now now, don't get too hyped up. It'll stay neutral that way if I do.)

"You may not know what'll happen in the future, but I know we'll have a great time together, in some sort of timeline. It's a great feeling to have. Anyway, tell me how you really feel. Telling someone how you really feel can change something. It may not be big, but it will be seen as to what the truth might unfold. You can always tell who you trust. If you trust me, tell me absolutely anything or even everything. Whenever you talk to me, it's like some story you're going to tell me. Always tell someone who you trust, not people you don't. It'll just be worse."

Clef expresses his feelings.

"I've been down, ever since the incident. I felt pain, disclosure, and feeling like as if I'm unimportant to people."

"You're important to me, Clef."

"!"

"See, despite me acting all mean and shit, you're really someone I love to..um hang out with. It's like having a brother to a..uh lover I think? Yeah lover."

Clef jolts in surprise. He..blushed! But he tried to wipe it off, like as if he had something on his face.

"Why do you.."

"Well..it's uhm..hm. How do I say this?"

Kondraki thinks for a bit, but remembers his saying.

"Well, you know that uh weird ass phrase about like friends to lovers or somethin'?"

"Yeah."

"It's basically that. When I saw you for the first time, I thought, hey! He looks well despite the intimidation, cool or somewhat like this badass shotgun user."

Clef finally smiles! He looks at him, listening.

"Go on"

"Well, I thought you were this badass, cool sadistic bastard that'll love being around some others who're like, delinquents or somethin', maybe more."

"Well, you're right about that."

"Oh, I am?"

"Yep. Though, it's limited due to the changes and stuff."

"Aha! There it is."

"What?"

"People in life can change. Either good to bad, or bad to good. We may never know who would change."

Kondraki hugs Clef. He ruffles his hair, and then..bam. He kisses him on the forehead, giving the sign of, "I love you no matter what. I don't care how angry we both are. We need each other, and it should never end."

"Clef, I'll always be here, even when I'm dead. In this world, I'm always in your heart. My legacy will always be here, when you support me."

Clef tears up and chokes a bit. He dreamed about him saying that, and it came out to be true. He visions that he'll have a great time with him, especially with going out. Kondraki smiles, rubbing the side of Clef's head.

"I love you Clef."

"I..love you too, Konny."

Well!

Good luck does seem to come around doesn't it? It always will. One day you'll experience a good amount of luck, it just will take time. You'll never know what can happen. Life can have it's ups and downs, and it'll come all around. Sometimes there's predictions, and not all comes out true. It's always best to experience the unexpected, then to experience something that's expected! Not to forget, if you need anything, you can talk to someone you trust, instead of someone who's not trustworthy. It's better that way! It'll help build trust with your friends, family, or lover. Hell, you can talk to people if you're brave enough to handle the connection! As long as they're okay with it and you included, you'll build a great connection with different people. Have a nice day and bless yourselves with your comfort plushies, food, drinks, etc! I'll be here to talk to whoever, whenever or hell, even whenever I'm free! 🖤

[ayoedebiris]

MONKEY MAN 2024, dir. Dev Patel