#he's quiet but he isn't necessarily nice

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Chu Wanning, kit-tea man. (Part 2)

(for @onionlings)

[writa-anon]

Francis Mosses (The Milkman) Headcanons ~!

a / n ~ havent written fanfic in a while and ive been a little obsessed with tnmn recently so i decided to write my little hcs for milkman! relatively wholesome and more just me giving him lore :3

GREW UP AS A MIDDLE CHILD, which is why he's so reserved and quiet. Doesn't really like the spotlight on him and lives his quaint life by himself satisfied.

TOOK PIANO LESSONS WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER. Still has that skill but typically doesn't like to flaunt. Has a humble old piano in his apartment he plays but very softly to not disturb his neighbors.

HE WORKS ANOTHER JOB AT NIGHT, WHICH IS WHY HE’S ALWAYS SO TIRED. His milkman job is a part-time job, hence why he rarely shows up during doorman afternoon shift. I'd like to think he works double to either help support his parents, child support for Anastasha, or saving up to buy a house of his own.

BIG SOFTIE FOR SMALL CREATURES. When he does his milkman runs around the block, he definitely pets the local strays and feeds them spare crackers he may have packed for lunch. He wishes he could keep one but doesn’t really have the time and plus the apartment complex doesn’t allow pets because of doppel precautions!

HES A BIT OF A MESS. but if he's not sleeping throughout the day, he definitely makes an effort in cleaning his place up and making a proper meal for himself. On overwhelming workdays though, his clothes are scattered everywhere and it's quick and easy meals for dinner.

HES A DISTANT FATHER. there's no way he ISN’T in contact with Nacha. They live in the same complex for crying out loud! He knows he's the father of Anastasha, however, was too scared to take on the responsibility of fatherhood, esp since this was in his early 20s. However, he does keep in contact with Nacha about updates and they are still on speaking terms.

BARELY SOCIALIZES WITH NEIGHBORS. He isn't necessarily buddy-buddy with any of his neighbors, however there is some acquaintance with Angus and Izaack (mainly because of their extroverted personalities, they must be known by everyone in the complex!).

SUPER SHY to physical affection or any type of affection for that matter. I feel like it would take a good while for him to do any sort of first moves. He would do a little secret admiring from afar just to warm up to it. Nothing too intense. Maybe leaving a rose or a nice compliment on the front desk while no one is looking. Definitely had to be hyped up by Isaack to go through with it. (I’m currently writing a fic about it!)

~~~~~~~

short but detailed. these are just my little thoughts :)

[d10nyx]

LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE - JOEL MILLER

ft. joel miller x puppy hybrid!reader

a/n: i'm actually very proud of this fic ngl to you guys. been wanting to write for tlou for the LONGEST time and... you know i had to make my debut w joel :3 first time trying to dive into writing more than just smut, so lemme know what you think !! rbs and feedback always appreciated !! thank you @ama-szn for betaing x

cw: 18+ content, brief mention of sarah and guilt, grinding, p in v, creampie, grinding, slight cockwarming, praise, puppy gets used a lot... joel being snappy and a mild asshole at times, tail play???

word count: 4.1k words

Now, Joel isn't always the smartest guy around. He has a tendency to get a little blunt, to put it nicely, and he isn't the type to do charity work. Being nice has never done him any favours, so he sees no point in acting all buddy-buddy just for the hell of it.

In saying that, he's starting to think he has a problem collecting strays. It started with Ellie, and now he's starting to see a habit forming when he comes across you. By all accounts, he should have left you in the corner of that beat up store. You'd been a good enough distraction to the Clickers with your incessant whining that Joel could have snuck by undetected.

Well, like he said, he's got a stray problem — and it's hardly good manners to leave a girl in trouble when he can help out. He aims his pistol, frowns as you flinch at the sounds of the shots as he takes them down. Lucky for the both of you, there's only two of them, but he still uses way more ammo than he'd like.

Joel has to double take when he gets a good look at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he crouches in front of you. He has half a mind to put a bullet through your skull, but something about the way you look has him hesitating. You're a cute enough girl, a little scruffy looking, maybe, but cute nonetheless. That isn't what has him staring at you like you're some kind of exhibit, though.

"You got... are those fuckin' ears, kid?" He tries to keep his voice low, not only 'cause you're shaking so hard you're practically vibrating, but he doesn't want to find out if those Clickers had any buddies nearby. He tenses up slightly when he notices movement behind you, his brows furrowing as he squints to get a closer look. "Don't tell me that's a tail you're hidin' back there."

Your ears perk up slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyes flicking over his face as your whines die down. You lift the tail, showing off the dirt-ridden, matted fur before letting it flop to the floor once again, tilting your head to the side.

"I'll be damned... Now I'm seein' things." Joel is almost sure that you're a hallucination, or maybe he's finally snapped. He reaches out, pokes the tip of your right ear. It's hard for him to stop himself from frowning when the fur is soft and warm underneath his fingertips, the thing twitching under his touch. They sure don't seem fake. He isn't seeing things, you're real and you're sitting right in front of him. "Can you talk, girl? I'm startin' to feel like a crazy old man, here.”

You blink at him slowly for a moment, like you have to think hard about his words. You nod your head softly, your eyes not straying from him. Your voice is quiet when you reply, breathless and shaky. “Y-yeah… I can talk.”

"Well. That's somethin’.” Joel lets out a breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding in. There's a moment of relief that washes over him in a wave. At least he isn't going completely insane, unless he's hallucinating your voice, too. "We gotta get movin', girl. The gunshots would've gotten every infected for miles gatherin' round, we don't have much time before they come sniffin' around here to see what's goin’ on.”

You nod once again, pushing yourself to your feet. He can see your features a little better now, and he tries not to let his eyes linger on that tail of yours for too long.

You don't seem like much of a talker, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least you won't go yapping at him when he's gotta concentrate. It wouldn't do either of you any good if he went and got killed because you couldn't keep your trap shut. You're probably the quietest stray he's managed to pick up. Ellie can talk for hours when she gets going, which...is most of the time, if he's being honest. You're more cautious than she ever was, though, watching him carefully as he stands and takes a look around the room to gather supplies.

Joel checks back on you, not missing the way you're shivering. He frowns, taking off his jacket before holding it out to you. "Here, put this on.”

You don't take the jacket, or so much as answer him. His frown deepens, and he lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling the jacker over your shoulders. “It's just a damn jacket. It won't kill ya.”

The way you stare at him is starting to get unnerving, so he turns away from you to continue throwing anything of use into his backpack. Store's already been raided, though, so he seems to be left with the scraps. Just his luck — scraps and strays. All he ever seems to get.

“Thanks.” You end up saying softly after a moment, and when Joel looks back at you again, that little tail is wagging and you're wearing his jacket properly. He catches himself smiling, so he's quick to turn away, grabbing the map from his backpack before zipping it up. He's always had a thing for pretty girls in his clothes, but he's not gonna admit that.

“Don't mention it, kid.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

It's been about a week since Joel first saw you, and he's doing his best to keep his distance. You seem to settle in fairly nicely in Jackson — or, at the very lease, you fit in well enough with Ellie. Joel's having more than enough conflicting feelings around you to last a lifetime, and you're just a pup. You're already having to adjust to a new environment, you don't need someone like him confusing things.

That doesn't mean he can't watch you from afar, though. He's not sure he'd be able to stop himself if he tried. He can't help but watch as you and Ellie play together, noting how much brighter and happier you look since that day he saved you. Your tail wags so fast it's a blur behind you, your fur soft and fluffy now that it's been washed and brushed out.

Joel likes you more than he'd care to admit. He's already got enough people to worry about, between Tommy and Ellie, and everyone else in the damn community. He doesn't need to add you to that list.

Problem is, Ellie's gotten to know Joel, and she still hasn't grown out of being a little shit. As soon as she catches him sitting a little ways away from where she's playing with you, she decides it'd be real funny to throw the stick right at him. Joel barely has the time to catch the thing before you're on him, practically tackling in an attempt to get it from him.

“Alright… alright.” His tone comes out a little harsher than intended, and he can't help but feel bad as you shrink back, those fluffy ears pressing down against your head. Your tail stopped wagging, too, and you're giving him that kicked dog look. Makes him feel like a monster.

“Shit, I didn't mean-” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose after he sets the stick down, patting his lap for you to come closer again. He reaches out, scratching the base of one of your ears with a small smile. “You're alright, girl. Just… easy, yeah? No need to jump all over me.”

That seems to placate you enough, and all seems to be forgiven. You nod and lean into his touch, that cute tail of yours picking up tenfold. There's something oddly soothing about petting you, so he decides to indulge you a little, leaning back against the porch railings as he sits on the steps.

It isn't until he notices your droopy eyes and the way you're slowly inching closer to him, practically curled up on his lap, that he realizes the sun is setting, and he wasted most of the day with you. He can't bring himself to mind.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

What is it they say about stray dogs? You feed them once, and they're yours? Joel can't recall, but he's sure he's somehow managed to adopt a little pup with how you cling to him. He tried locking you out of his room one night, and he couldn't sleep with the way you clawed at the door, whining and whimpering to be let in.

You sleep with him now, and he can't say he dislikes the warmth your body brings when he curls up with you every night.

He's got his arm curled around your waist, that fluffy tail of yours resting between his legs and still somehow wagging as he spoons you. He can't help but rub little circles into your stomach with his thumb, his nose pressed against the nape of your neck. For a moment, he finds himself wondering how receptive you'd be if he started kissing the skin there, letting his breath ghost the spot where your baby hairs rest.

That's a dangerous line of thinking, one that he quickly snaps out of. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes to try and get some rest. You must sense that he's tense, cause you start wriggling around in his arms until you're facing him.

“Joel?” You breathe out, nuzzling his neck with your nose. He can feel your breath on him, and he grits his teeth not to make an audible sound as you lick at him. It's supposed to be a comforting gesture, but it has him squirming for a whole number of reasons.

“I can feel you worryin’, pup. You ain't gotta stress about me.” He murmurs, gripping your hair gently to pull your face away from his neck. He can't focus with your tongue on him like that.

“You look sad.” You whine, pulling against the grip of his hair to keep licking at him. He knows you're just trying to cheer him up, but it's really not helping the way his dick is starting to swell. It's not your fault, you don't know what you're doing to him, but he feels sick letting himself get turned on by your innocent actions.

“Just - go to fuckin’ bed, alright?” He snaps, tugging you away hard enough he knows it probably stung a little. His mouth grows dry, an apology on the tip of his tongue as he watches you retreat, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“C'mon, girl. I didn't mean that, I just…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, his features etching into a frown. “Look, just… c’mere, alright? I'm sorry.”

He shifts so he's lying on his back, doing his best to make sure you don't press up against him when he's in this state. He holds an arm out, and you come rushing forward, tucking yourself against his side. You really are like a dog, always running back to him. He doesn't like how it makes him feel.

His jaw tenses as he shuts his eyes, trying to block out the guilt festering in him as he feels wet tears against the front of his shirt. He can hear your quiet sniffles, but he has no idea how to comfort you, so he doesn't.

Joel does what he does best — pretends the issue isn't there. He scratches behind your ears until you drift off, but sleep doesn't come for him that night. He spends the rest of his time staring at the ceiling, waiting for the morning sun to come through the widows before he carefully removes himself from your slumbering form.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, tucking the covers around your body before he leaves the room. What he needs right now is a cold shower and a little hunting trip with Tommy to keep his mind off of things.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

The first thing he's greeted with after returning from his supply run is a sobbing pup. He didn't expect to see you so worked up — barely giving him enough time to dismount his horse before you were clinging to him, ears pulled back on your head and tail limp as you cried into his chest.

“Hey… hey, now. What's the matter, girl?” He whispers, dropping his bag to the floor so he can hug you back, one hand sliding down your back to scratch the base of your fluffy tail. “C'mon, now. I wasn't gone for that long, was I?”

“You didn't say bye.” Your words are muffled against his chest, that whiny tone still in your voice, but he can see the way your tail starts moving at his touch. Makes him feel a bit better about leaving you so suddenly. “You always say bye…”

“I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart. You were sleepin’.” He says with a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as you pressed against him. Felt like you were trying to become a part of him with how desperately you attempted to get closer.

“But… you were gone, and… I didn't know where you went.” You whisper, hands gripping onto his shirt tight enough that the fabric stays wrinkled when you let go in favor of hugging him.

“Doesn't mean I was leavin’ you. Just had to get some supplies.” He replies, even if it's technically a lie. It can never hurt getting some more stuff, but a group only went patrolling the day before he left. He did need the time away from you, to clear his head. He just couldn't let you know that.

“And, hey. I was thinkin’ of you the whole time. I even got you a lil’ somethin’.” He says after a moment, grabbing your shoulders to pry you off of him. He ignores the ache in his heart at your little whine in favor of unzipping his bag, holding something up and squeaking it.

Your eyes light up at the sound, and he really can't help the smile that spreads across his face at the sight. He throws the squeaky ball and watches you chase after it, laughing when you return with it in your mouth, biting down over and over to hear the noise.

“There we are. That's my girl.” He murmurs, ruffling your hair before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you against his side. “C'mon, let's go and find Ellie. We got some catchin’ up to do, don't we?”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Joel must be getting soft with old age. That's really the only explanation for what's going on. He's letting you sit on him like you're a damn lapdog all because you looked like you wanted a cuddle.

You look so damn cute, too. That tail of yours is going to be the death of him. Joel's heart does not flutter when you smile all prettily at him, nor does it flutter when you rub your face against his neck like you're trying to get his scent all over you.

No. Joel's heart is as cold as ice. He doesn't get warm, fuzzy feelings from cute puppy hybrids, and he certainly doesn't clear his throat to stop himself from saying something unbelievably sappy and embarrassing.

“You comfy there, darlin’? Like havin’ me take care of ya?” He murmurs, not missing the way his breath catches in his throat when you hum in agreement, licking at his skin. You don't seem to notice, so he doesn't mention it. Small mercies.

Maybe it's the whiskey, or maybe it's the way your warmth seeps into him and makes his heart race that has his brain malfunctioning, but he can't stop himself from saying what's been on his mind the past few weeks.

“You're such a pretty girl…” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against your hairline before pressing a gentle kiss there. His hands slide down to your waist, giving you a little squeeze. “So fuckin’ pretty. My pretty pup, ain't ya, sweetheart?”

That tail picks up again and he chuckles, sliding a hand down your back to scratch the base of your tail, tuning in to the steady thump, thump, thump of it slapping against his thighs. He gives your tail a little squeeze, stroking his hand over the fur.

“Ain't no hidin’ how you really feel with a tail like that.” He says with a small laugh, eyes locked onto the way your tail moves as he leans forward, pressing kisses down the side of your throat. He grins against your skin as your tail starts wagging faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

“Yeah? Y’like that, puppy?” He coos, the hand on your tail shifting to grab your ass, giving the plump flesh a little squeeze. The feeling of it has him groaning, his cock already starting to fill out. It's been a long, long time since he's gotten laid, and he'd be lying if he said he hasn't been having some conflicting feelings surrounding you as of late.

All he gets is a whine in response, your body shifting just a little closer to him. Joel grabs your hips, pushing you down against his lap so he can grind up against you, a grunt spilling past his lips. He glances back at your tail, rutting against you with more force when he sees the steady wag, the sight of it making his cock twitch with interest.

“God. Good fuckin’ girl.” He breathes out, rocking you against him for another minute before it gets too much for him. He can feel you soaking the fabric of your shorts, and he’s starting to get a little dizzy with all the blood in his body rushing south. He’s so hard it hurts, and he can’t help himself as he tugs off your shorts and underwear in one tug, unbuttoning his jeans and yanking his boxers down just enough so he can free his length from the constricting fabric.

You’re so wet he can sink into you in one thrust, holding you steady as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly as he takes a moment to catch his bearings. He presses his lips to the skin there, trailing kisses along the column of your throat. You’re so wet and tight and warm, and it's a struggle for Joel not to blow his load early with how much you’re squeezing around him.

”Pretty, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust up into you, the sounds of your little gasps and moans making his head spin. His grip on your hips tightens so he can guide you up and down his length, helping you move with every drag of his cock. The room fills with slick sounds as he fucks up into you, his head tilting back as he lets out a breathy moan.

He leans forward to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as he slides his tongue into your mouth. The taste of smoke and whiskey lingers between the two of you, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip to give it a little tug before he pulls away, running his tongue over his teeth. He starts to bounce you on his cock, grunting as your walls flutter around him as he pounds into you. He reaches around to grip your tail, tugging on it to encourage you to keep riding him. His fingers play with the fur there, the upper half of your tail continuing to wag where it’s free from his hold.

”Makin’ such a mess, sweetheart. Soakin’ my jeans.” He huffs, grinding his tip against your sweet spot before he pulls you up by the tail, leaving only the tip of his cock in before yanking you back down with a groan. You’re so wet you’re dripping all down his shaft, soaking his balls and making the fabric bunched up beneath them wet with arousal.

”Gonna make you cum for me, pup. Then I’m gonna fill you up. You want that, girl?” He grits out between thrusts, brows pinching together as he watches you nod eagerly. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as his words make your cunt clench around him, trying to milk him dry.

”Alright, alright. I got you, doll.” He lets go of your tail, grabbing your hips to bury himself to the hilt inside of you. He adjusts the both of you a little so he can make you grind against his pelvis while keeping him nice and deep. He rocks your hips, making you grind your clit against his happy trail, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the friction the movement brings.

”Shit-“ He hisses as he feels you tensing around him, your orgasm sending him over the edge right after you. His jaw clenches as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you, his body slumping against the couch when he’s left spent and twitching inside your needy cunt.

”Just…” He starts after a moment, hands moving to rub up and down your back gently, coaxing you to lean against him. “Stay like this for me, yeah? You did good, pup. Such a good girl.”

He relaxes when you snuggle up to him, his softening cock nestled deep inside of you. There’s something oddly comforting about it, and it’s not long before he’s got his face buried in the crook of your neck, slowly dozing off as he runs his fingers through the fur on your tail. He thinks he could get used to this. He’s really starting to like having you around.

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Joel's gotten into the habit of leaving you with Ellie when he has to go on those long patrols. He's never sure if he's gonna make it back, and there's no one in the world he trusts with you more than Ellie. He knows if something went wrong, the two of you would look after eachother, and that's enough to lessen the gnawing anxiety building in his chest whenever he has to leave.

Last thing he expects to see when he pushes open the door to his room is you and Ellie sleeping all curled up on his bed. It catches him off guard for a moment, but it's not long before a small smile breaks its way onto his face. He brushes some hair out of Ellie's eyes and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, giving you a small scratch behind the ears.

He sneaks his way out of the room, settling himself on the couch. He knows his back’s gonna be protesting the sleeping arrangement, especially after slumming in the past few days on the ground, but he can't find it in himself to care. He curls up awkwardly, letting out a grunt when his too-big frame can't fit fully on the couch.

Despite his discomfort, he feels content for the first time in a long while. He hasn't felt this kind of happiness since Sarah. For once, the thought that he could be happy without her, no matter how much he mourns her, doesn't fill him with dread. The guilt is still there, the thoughts of 'what if', but he lets himself feel them. He knows they're never gonna leave him, and there's no point trying to force them away.

He never wants to forget Sarah, to replace her. There's always gonna be a massive space in his heart that's taken up by her, and there's no one that's gonna change that. But for once, he thinks he's happy with the little family he's got. The strays he's collected. He knows he can honor her memory by doing his best to survive, act like a dad she could've been real proud of.

Joel isn't a very religious man, but he knows he'll see his daughter again, one day. He cries himself to sleep that night, but for once the sobs that rack his body aren't filled with dread. It isn't him giving up, sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

They're tears of exhaustion, yes. But also relief. Hope. He can start again, live his life how he should've been these past few years. Really live, instead of just forcing himself to keep pushing through. Not just for you, but for Ellie. Tommy, too.

His family.

[rogueddie]

One small glimpse had all it took for Eddie to be completely hooked. Just one little glimpse, just enough to get him curious, just enough to get him in the store.

And then he'd truly seen Steve Harrington, dressed in a cute little sailors uniform. The shorts weren't anywhere near as sinful as the ones he wore in gym but... something about them being part of his uniform, something about the fact that someone is paying him to wear them, makes it seem so much more... dirty? Eddie isn't sure, something about it immediately riles him up.

They're so flattering too, somehow make his legs look better than the gym shorts did. When he turns around, bending over to grab something out of the lower cabinet...? Eddie is just glad it was loud, no one could hear the quiet noise he made.

Of course he'd teased him. How could he not? Former King of Hawkins high, reduced to serving ice cream in a slutty sailor suit.

"It's not slutty," Harrington had hissed, flushing bright red. "It's just a uniform."

"Mm, and you wear it so well."

It was just a short little visit. Got some ice cream, said a few teasing things, left within five minutes.

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd always found Harrington attractive, who hadn't? He wasn't necessarily ashamed of that. But, even then, it had never been this bad. A fleeting thought that the guy looked good, sure. Waking up in the middle of the night, fantasizing about him in his work uniform?

A week later, he's sure that he's remembering wrong. He's probably just having a bad week, weirdly hormonal and didn't realize that he was into sailor uniforms... or something. Because there's no way Steve Harrington looked so pretty in that uniform that it warranted this much thought.

So, later in the day, he goes back to the mall. Picks up a new album first, heading inside Scoops Ahoy- he'd pass it by on the way back, it gives him the perfect excuse.

Harrington is serving, but he's turned around, talking to his co-worker. It gives Eddie an unfortunately good look at how the shorts pull a little too tight in all the right areas. It doesn't help when he shifts his stance as he talks, leaning forward a little more so his back almost arches, hips tilting to the side and-

Eddie ducks his head to stare at the album in his hand like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, shuffling so the girl in front of him still waiting at the counter blocks his view.

After he finally carries on doing his job, serves the girl so Eddie can sidle up to the counter with a smirk, he rolls his eyes. "Anymore inappropriate comments?"

"Yeah. You sure those shorts are the right size?"

Harrington frowns, looking down at said shorts. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. Sure, I believe you." Eddie glances at his co-worker.

She's a decently pretty girl, he assumes- but she's giving him a knowing look, pretends to tip her hat at him with a wink. Huh.

"Same as last time," Eddie drawls when Harrington finally stops frowning at his uniform.

He stares at him for a moment, squinting a little. He snaps his fingers when he finally remembers, grinning. It's almost criminal- to look that good on a normal day, but then also wear that sailor uniform and also be cute?

Someone up above must hate him.

"Here you go, that's $1.55."

Eddie reluctantly accepts the ice cream, hands him the money in far too many coins. It's the right order. "Is that the right amount?"

Harrington grumbles, annoyed, as he slowly starts counting each cent. Shakes his head when he's done. "5 cents short, sorry dude."

"Damn." Eddie pushes the ice cream back at him so he can dig through both pockets.

"Just- stop, here," Harrington holds the ice cream out. Eddie had very nearly wiggled out what felt like a quarter stuck in his pocket too. "You can pay me back later."

"You sure?" Eddie cautiously takes the offered ice cream. Hesitates for a moment- he's being nice, actually nice. Eddie isn't sure teasing is the best way to repay that but... he's not told Eddie to back off yet. "You just want cash or what?"

"What other type of payment is there?"

"Goods and services," Eddie wiggles his eyebrows.

Harrington splutters for a moment, flushing red again. So Eddie takes the opportunity to leave, not waiting for a response.

Whilst it's only 5 cent, Eddie has learnt the hard way that every penny counts. But he's been given the perfect excuse to come back. He's practically been invited back.

Eddie tries not to feel too giddy. Tries not to let it get to his head.

He holds out exactly three days. Three days of absolute hell! He can barely concentrate half the time, mind constantly wondering back to Harrington in that stupid uniform. The way he'd blushed, again, so easily. Seemed to almost welcome the teasing, too. At least, he didn't seem put off by it. It's almost too good to be true.

He'd been busy all day though. Band practice had run later than they'd planned and everyone else had things they needed to get to afterwards as well. It didn't go well for anyone.

Eddie is lucky he arrives at the mall in time, the stores only just starting to pack up for the evening. Most stores are completely empty- including Scoops Ahoy.

But it's completely empty. Not even Steve or a different employee stand at the counter, or shuffle around the tables cleaning up. For a moment, Eddie is sure that they must have closed up early and he really has arrived too late.

But then the 'staff only' door swings open, Harrington shuffling out. He freezes moments after he steps out, just as surprised to see Eddie.

"Hey," he eventually says. He even gives Eddie a little wave. "Sorry, uh, didn't expect anyone else in. Most of the ice cream is, uh, packed up. I don't... we might still have yours?"

"It's ok if you don't," Eddie offers, sauntering over to the counter. "I'll take a recommendation."

Harrington nods, shuffling over to start rooting through... things. Eddie isn't sure. He keeps up his bad habit of just bending over instead of crouching though. Eddie isn't sure whether he's happy about that or not. It is a nice view.

"We have, uh, the U.S.S Butterscotch ice cream? It's the closest we have available."

"That's fine. As long as it's not vanilla. How much is it?"

"Oh, right, sorry. It's $1.99."

Eddie roots through his pockets, dumping his change on the counter first. He's pretty sure he doesn't have enough- and he's right, he's just about 34 cent short.

"Shit. You got anything cheaper?"

But Harrington shakes his head again, already pulling out the scooper. "Just pay me back. It's fine."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. One time, 5 cents, isn't anything to take note of. A second time, now adding up to 39 cents?

"What if I can't afford to?"

Again, he shrugs off the question. "You're the one who suggested goods and services."

"You know what I was implying with that, right?"

He shrugs again, but he keeps his head down, focusing on fiddling with the ice cream scooper. He's blushing.

Eddie leans forward, onto his elbows, tilting his head. He pats the counter. "Come here then."

"What?" Steve tries to ask. But Eddie just pats the counter again. So Steve steps a little closer, leans on his palms though, keeping straight and upright. "What?"

Eddie looks over him for a moment, considering... it'd be worth the punch, he decides.

He grabs the little red tie of Steve's uniform, pulling him down. He leans up to meet him halfway, unable to hold in his pleased hum when Steve tilts his head to the side as he allows Eddie to pull him down.

His mouth opens just as easily when Eddie immediately deepens the kiss. The noise he makes when Eddie nips at his lower lip too- so high, needy. Irresistible. He just has to bury his hands in his hair, holding his head still so Eddie can take what he wants. Rewards Steve with a little tug on his hair.

He's panting when Eddie finally lets him go, blushing all the way down his neck, eyes a little glassy.

"That enough, sailor?"

Steve blinks at him for a moment, looking a little out of it.

"Steve."

"Oh, uh, yeah... right, yeah, that- yeah. I'll just, um. I'll get your order."

This time, Eddie let's his eyes linger. Doesn't bother hiding it when Steve looks back round, feeling almost gleeful at how Steve almost seems to preen.

... can you tell that I've been thinking about this post too much?

[peachseashell]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ The show must go on!

Some cute scenarios with Lyney and Lynette (seperate)

x gender neutral reader

Warnings: none rlly except it kinda hints at lynettes trauma (i love her poor baby)

Notes: I GOT LYNEY!!! hes so cute 😭😭 I'll get freminet so i can build all three of them :) also sorry for not posting for like 2 months 💕

Lyney

- As his lovely partner, it's quite often you find yourself becoming an audience for his rehearsals with Lynette. You feel like a VIP getting a sneak peak of their upcoming shows! As he ends his part with a bow and wink, you also get a very special suprise pulled out of his hat. Sometimes it's a bouquet, chocolate or jewelry.

- Lyney also has a habit of randomly appearing next to you whenever he misses you; and it makes you squeal everytime. This way, he manages to persuade you to go on a outing together.

- When you ask to try on his hat, he hesitates as he thinks you might get lost in there. It is a magicians hat after all. It’s rare he gets distracted when perfoming, but you just happened to look to nice that day at one of his shows; causing him to lose focus. And cards and doves came tumbling out of his hat and his face flushed in embarrassment.

- Definitely demands a kiss out of you if his shows go fantastic as always. He has the funniest frown when you refuse and won't stop following you until even the slightest bit of affection is given.

- Makes breakfast in bed type of guy, gifts every day type of guy, cries with you type of guy. He's like a best friend AND boyfriend!

Lynette

- Lynette isn't necessarily shy, just quiet and prefers not to engage in conversations. So, most of the time you both spend together is in complete silence. Sometimes with a book or cup of tea in your hands.

- She's not ignoring you; she just feels more comfortable. As much as she loves Lyney, he can be very pestering. And living with two brothers is highly difficult. So, you're kinda her escape from all the excitement. She loves you because you don't think of her as a puppet or just an assistant, but as just her.

- Normally, dates would be picnics or perhaps museums and galleries. Lynette's affection is probably shown through quality time and acts of service, like getting you food, taking care of you when you're sick.

- I can't really see her big on physical affection. She probably wouldn't mind if it was coming from you, her lover. She just likes it when people ask instead of just running up to her and hugging her (me fr).

- She likes taking naps with you in a nice sunny spot, she is a cat after all. On very rare occasions you may stroke her hairs and once in a decade you may brush her tail.

[merbear25]

Patience is a virtue

Learning to trust isn't easy, especially when you're still picking up the pieces from the past. Even though the desire to get to know you is a nawing persistence, he values your boundaries. Whenever you decide to open up, he'll be waiting.

a/n: idk I just have a lot of feelings.

Sanji, Ace, Corazon

CW: SFW, gn!reader, angsty(maybe?), fluff, mutual feelings

Sanji: You'd grown quiet around him. The both of you had just been starting to chat a little more. It felt nice to hear your soft laughs as he told you jokes about what had happened that day. But then, the angelic laughter came to a hault, leaving him to question what he'd said to bring such sorrow to your lovely complexion. Even without knowing what he'd done to upset you, he apologized―pleading, in a way, to move past this and get back to seeing you smile.

You needed time though. You didn't have to say it ―it was written all over your face. Backing off was a choice made with much heartache, but he did so nonetheless: deciding that persuing you in the matter would only push you further away from him.

Distancing yourself wasn't something that you'd necessarily wanted to do. However, those buds of elation and adoration sprouting were also accompanied with the bitter cold of past rejection that stifled any pursuit of happiness you were hoping for.

The erosion of the hole in you was swallowing your very being, but when this had shown to be too troublesome for others, he was still there: he didn't pry, he never rushed you, just waited for your return to him.

This was someone worth pushing those doubts aside for. The next time you spoke to him, your heart lead the way, despite your fears trailing closely behind. His warmth helped melt the frost that'd been collecting over the years.

Ace: He was growing accustomed to you rather quickly. You were certainly kind-hearted and nice to have a laugh with, all of which made him start gravitating towards you whenever you were present. There was surely an interest in you, one that he had not fully become aware of. Just as he was discovering his feelings for you, you changed gears: avoiding him, reverting back into your shell. Despite how hurt he felt, he couldn't demand you to tell him the reason―it wouldn't be fair to you.

If you needed time away from him, he would give you that. He wasn't going to force his friendship on you. That being said, this time apart was good for him, as well. Thoughts of you came and went, but many of them stayed: something interesting or funny would happen and he wanted to tell you about it but felt like he couldn't.

This time away from each other only echoed your longing for companionship; you were left with nothing but the same loneliness that'd surrounded you each time prior. Tears brought on by thoughts of the flame lit between you eventually burning out stung your eyes. Even in solitude, fear of abandonment intruded on you.

There were small glances he threw your way, none of which were harboring resentment. Instead, they showed concern. Anticipation for a row that wouldn't come: you stood there wondering what made him different.

How can I learn to trust? Can you help me? Seeing you make your way to him was the remedy he needed for the flickering flame he'd worried was losing its luster in your eyes. However, you were both sure now that it'd never go out.

Corazon: Taking the leap of faith to reveal his secrets to you was terrifying: you were, in fact, different from the others, but something like this wasn't an easy choice to make. That being said, nothing could replace the memories you two were creating together. Each day that passed, regret for the secret he'd let you in on didn't come. The bond he was under the impression you two had been forming was faltering though. It wasn't important for him to know what he'd done exactly―he just knew he wanted to make it up to you.

Your body language did the talking for you: your sunny disposition had clouds rolling in and the gloom of a storm was on the horizon. Even though he longed to come to your aid, he understood that pushing you into a conversation wouldn't fair well for your blossoming relationship.

You wanted to shield this budding love from the harsh storm brewing within. Your frail body could only do so much though when caught in this hurricane. Gale force winds, rain that lashed at your skin: abrasions which came with each potential relationship.

No stranger to the torment this world had to offer, he could see the wear and tear of your inner termoil on your soft face. It took each bit of inner strength not to go to you and tell you everything would be alright. He wanted to give you the freedom to choose to share your burdens with him. In spite of the distance between the both of you, his eagerness to rescue you from yourself was unmistakable.

I can't carry on through this storm alone. Can you be the one I lean on? Finding your way back to him, he instinctively held our his arms to wrap you in the warmth you'd been in desperate need of, yet unable to secure it up till now. You were now fully prepared to take your own leap of faith.

[ovaryacted]

Honest question, how do you think Leon would propose?

Love ya Nic, have a great day/night! ❤️

Omg, anon, I'm so sorry I haven't answered this until now even though I truly wanted to when I first saw it! I literally was grinning from ear to ear thinking about this and the different ways Leon would propose to his significant other. Thank you so much for this ask, it really made me happy. 🫶

Now, I think the way Leon approaches marriage will definitely depend on where he is in his life. He can be both attentive and intentional on the proposal itself, or he's more focused on the final product and ends up being an impulsive knucklehead. So I will break this down based on the different versions of him, and I hope you enjoy my thoughts on this!

RE2R - Baby boy, most definitely would be very considerate towards the whole process. I see him taking a more romantic approach despite being shy, taking their partner out to dinner, and spending a pretty penny on the whole thing. He'll get a bouquet of roses, take you to some nice restaurant in the city, and does some real corny shit like put the engagement ring in the dessert, or he'd actually get on one knee and ask you properly. Either way, I think this specific version of Leon would give you the sweetest most intentional engagement, and it would be more endearing because he's nervous the entire time and scared you'd say no but when you kiss him, he's all smiles afterward.

RE4R - Now Leon is a couple of years older with more life experience under his belt that he didn't necessarily ask for. If he was lucky enough to have a partner that he wants to marry, he would still be considerate enough to actually ask them but the proposal would be more intimate and personal. He'd probably take you to somewhere quiet and scenic, he'd want it to be more private and away from other people to ease his own anxieties. He may or may not get on one knee in front of you or decide on just holding your hands, but he would still ask you, or say that he wants you in his life for as long as he's here. Much more sentimental because he's an emotional type of guy, and he's the type to probably have the ring in his pocket instead of the case itself, but it is still a lovely gesture.

ID! - For sure goes back to his romantic roots. Similar to him in RE2R, I still see him doing the whole restaurant thing, but probably rents out an actual section in the restaurant so it's more private. He has the entire night planned, takes you to a nice exclusive dinner (cause duh), is very smug and corny about things, and woos you with his silly jokes before popping the question seriously. Afterwards, he'd take you to a nice hotel room with champagne and really treats you to a nice night out because it's what you deserve.

RE6 - Now at his age and with his level of trauma, it can go either nicely, or very impulsively. If he's intentional and wants that special moment, Leon will plan it out and do it properly. But I think it would be more realistic if he's impulsive, or just never finds the right way to propose to the person he loves. He'd come back home with the ring sitting in his pocket but wouldn't ask you for weeks. Every time he thinks it's the right time to propose to you, he either chickens out from asking at all, or he gets sent off on another mission and isn't able to come back for some time. He wants to do it right, really does, but he'll eventually grow impatient and just blurts out the statement like a dumbass. At least here, he'll probably say it when he's desperate, just says "Marry me" as he's kissing you over and over. It's embarrassing, but once he realizes he can't live without you and doesn't want to wait any longer, he will just say it because it's better if he did than if he never gets the chance to do it in the first place.

Vendetta - Good luck on getting him to ask cause he literally won't. The question may or may not slip out into a drunken mess of words that he won't remember in the morning, or you'll mention something about marriage and he'll brush it off. That man would not give one fuck about getting married when he literally doesn't think life is worth living. If you want to marry him, it will take a lot of convincing him that he's even worth the emotional investment. Leon wants to feel love and reciprocate it, but he's also scared that if he does get married, it'll turn into collateral so he would be less inclined to even want that.

DI! - A little more sensical than he was in the past, Leon at this point will either do a proper proposal, or he will unintentionally suggest that he wants to marry you. He's the type to buy the engagement ring the moment he knows he wants to be in your life for whatever is remaining of it, and he'll keep it hidden or tucked away for months, or carry it on him as a reminder to ask you one day. In a moment of weakness, he can also just pop the question as he's being with you in bed, loving you. His eyes will crinkle as he smiles, looking at you with so much affection that it'll probably come out as a hypothetical like "What if we got married?". You entertain the idea, not thinking he's serious but when he goes quiet after a second and gives you a bashful stare, you just say "You're not serious are you?", and he holds the ring in front of you like "Very serious". It's sudden, it's even a tad bit silly, but it's him and you can't help but say yes anyway.

[shotmrmiller]

Pornstar! Simon crosses with 22 simon and 09 wife or just 09 wife

yknow whats kinda funny about that?

i had been thinking about having a younger simon, like post-butcher, pre-torture and he just goes to sleep in the barracks, cuz he's still like a pvt. or something and he wakes to a nice, remote home in the middle of nowhere.

only to come in contact with reader.

future him strolls in a minute later and he's...aged.

grey streaks his temples and peppers the rest of his hair. lines are etched onto his skin, most prominent around his eyes, forehead and around the corners of his mouth.

and he's scarred quiet heavily. he's got a silver line bisecting his eyebrow and lips, a crooked nose from clearly being broken too many times. his arms are littered with em, like he rolled in glass or something.

and the look old him has in his eyes as he stares at young simon is horrifying. like looking at a dead body; lifeless, empty, ice-cold.

what put that there?

but it doesn't matter after, because old simon turns to reader and changes before his very eyes. shoulders slump, eyes melt with warmth, and a small ㅤsmile graces his lips.

that's when young simon notices the rings on their fingers. married.

reader is his wife- future wife.

she's extraordinary, which eventually has him asking her if he's rich.

not necessarily.

is he famous?

the exact opposite.

are you young?

well isn't that polite.

young simon just wants to know why you're with your husband. he's never been a looker, with an attitude that has always scared off both men and women alike.

what did he do to get someone like you.

anyway, i simply don't write it cuz it's too unrealistic. + i already did multiverse.

[woefulmachiavellianism]

Bad batch Hc- Love Languages

So I have this theory that everyone's love language for giving and receiving aren't necessarily the same... Unless you're Hunter.

Hunter:

Giving: Acts Of Service

Hunter isn't always the best with words and sometimes can't be around other people with his hypersensitivity, but he can show his love for you by doing little things every now and then. He might do your assigned chore for the week that you really hate. He'd make sure to grab that favorite fruit of yours from Naboo after a mission there. He'd make sure to note the things that get on your nerves or stress you out, and actively try to avoid them. If you need the boys distracted so you can have some quiet time alone, he's your man.

Receiving: Acts of Service Just as I said he's not always down for physical touch or quality time. He's not really a big fan of gifts either, he's never sure what to do with them, and words are just words after all. But he's absolutely head over heels for you when he catches on to all the little things you do for him. His heart skips a beat when he comes back out of the 'fresher after a particularly messy mission and his gear has already been wiped down. He always chuckles to himself when he finds the ration bars you snuck into his pockets for when Wrecker won't stop complaining about being hungry. And when he finds you reading to Omega to get her to sleep...he swears right there he's going to marry you someday.

Echo:

Giving: Quality Time

After the Citadel, Echo is not the man he used to be. His confidence with words were cut out of him at the Techno Union along with his limbs. However, he knows how to be quiet and listen. He did a lot of it at the Rishi base, and you couldn't grow up with Fives and not be good at sitting silently while someone talks. He's happy to just sit and watch you talk about your day or even rant about that one thing that grinds your gears about the others. He's also content to just sit in silence, reading or working as you do the same. He's not confident enough for some things, but by the Maker he knows he can show and listen like no other.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation/Physical Touch This man is about as touch starved and insecure about his body as you can get. When Tech said he was more machine than man percentage wise, he silently cried himself to sleep that night. He needs to hear daily how much you care, not only to reassure him you want him, but to ground him to the present. Even if it's just a "Hey, handsome" in passing, it's enough to make his stomach flutter and a little color come back to his cheeks. At first he'd be very skittish about physical touch. He'd worry that his limbs are uncomfortable or you'd feel differently once you physically felt all his prostheses. However, once you two got over that bump, it'd be what he craved most. He wouldn't care if it was barely brushing knuckles while standing next to him, or waking up in your arms in the morning. Stars, if you combined the word with physical touch...snuggly pep talks or praise in the bedroom...he's a goner.

Tech:

Giving: Gifts

Tech understands that most of what he thinks to say isn't very romantic and while physical touch is nice, it's not always very practical. But Tech is very proud of his engineering skills and realizes how happy it makes those around him. The first time you complain about needing music he makes a note of supplies to scavenge for a radio. That man will never be over your face when he finally presents it to you. The shocked gasp, eyes alight, arms thrown around him in excitement as you squealed how much you loved it. If that had been his last day alive, he would've died a happy man. But now that he knows how you react, he takes every opportunity to present you with little trinkets and gifts. Need a new holster for your blaster? Give him a day. Looking bored while waiting for a new assignment from Cid? He'll grab a few spare bits and bobs from his pocket and make a spinning toy right at the bar.

Receiving: Quality Time While he lives to give you gifts, Tech doesn't need or want anything he can't or hasn't already made himself. Words of affirmation are kind of pointless...he knows that he's a good man and treats people fairly. What Tech really loves the most though, are the quiet moments together. Most of the time you aren't talking or even looking at each other, but having your calming presence in the room as he works is all he wants. If you're competent enough to hand him tools or assist him on projects, the man could kiss you right there. Nothing is more attractive to him than the sight of you wearing his goggles, working on the Marauder's engine beside him.

Wrecker:

Giving: Physical Touch Even in all his goofy absentmindedness, Wrecker is entirely aware of how big he is. And despite his namesake and his love for explosives, he's the softest man in the galaxy. He can tell just by the way his enemies fear his size, it comforts those who are close to him. He would do anything to make you feel safe and protected. He loves sneaking an arm around during briefings, or a hug before leaving for a mission. Kisses on the top of your head are his personal way of apologizing for his antics while simultaneously pointing out how short you are compared to him. If you're ever frightened, he won't hesitate to wrap his whole body around you like armor and say, "Cyare, 'm never gonna let anything happen to you."

Receiving: Gifts

I mean there probably was a time before gifts were his favorite, but once he got Lula, (and I firmly believe she was a secret gift from Cross) that was it. He sometimes struggles to remember the little things so it always amazes him how much you remember. You always have a carton of Mantell mix ready after a mission. Every time you get the chance to help him pet some small fuzzy creature, he's so happy he could cry. He tends to prefer food and comfort items, but even if you bring him a rock and say, "It reminded me of you," he goes weak at the knees.

Crosshair:

Giving: Physical Touch

Crosshair, as usual, doesn't operate the same way as his squad. The physical touch he gives isn't the same as Wrecker's or as Echo recieves. If he said how much he needs you aloud, it would make it true and in doing so, make him vulnerable. On the other hand, he can easily grab your ass or shove you against the wall for a kiss. His snark puts everyone off, he's painfully aware of that. But he's equally aware of his body and the sensations he can offer you. He knows exactly how to make you feel desired without uttering a word, and he loves to see you slowly faltering in your composure around him. His ego needs that stroke, and needs it often.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation/Quality Time Being the sassy asshole he is, Crosshair spends a lot of time alone and in silence. While he likes the silence and peace, he admits (only to himself) that it can be lonely. Having a partner who seeks out his presence but doesn't have to speak to or do anything with him to enjoy their time, it's all he's ever wanted in a relationship. However, what he never knew he wanted was the kind words you'd speak about him. All his life he'd been the asshole, the one everyone tells to shut-up and calls grumpy. The first time you tell him how good of a man he is, he has to physically turn away to keep his composure. No one had ever spoken that way to him or about him before. If he overheard you speaking kindly of him to someone else, he'd be strangely cuddly that night. He wouldn't try to take things further than kissing and tracing circles on your back while he holds you, and he wouldn't explain either. He just needs you to feel that same kindness in the only way he knows how to communicate it.

[bonniepop]

do you think you'll make a part two for the sugawara fry game fic where they reconcile because im,, im, 😭😭

part 1

—

you've successfully avoided sugawara for the entire school week. it wasn't necessarily hard—you'd been a part of his weekday routine for a few weeks now, sharing the same majors and electives—just really, really lonely.

the weekend had arrived and normally, saturdays entailed running joint errands in the morning—groceries, laundry, and any other such activity—followed by lunch (this saturday is your turn to choose—well, was your turn to choose) and some movie, or mini golf, or something. some activity that made you both laugh and talk and made you fall in love with him a little bit more.

you sigh and push yourself up off the bed, forcing yourself to grab your purse and phone and a list you kept pinned via magnet to you and your roommate's shared fridge, and set out.

the bus ride to the grocery store was so stiflingly quiet that you'd decided to fish out your earphones and plug them in, keeping your gaze out the window, distracted by the scenery of the city as you drove past. you handn't realized so much was in this neighborhood; you had some vague recognition that it was close to sugawara's stop. you knew he lived out of campus, but you had no idea he lived in such a nice, lively area.

"hey," someone calls, voice muffled by your headphones.

you turn your head and your stomach drops.

of course. he fucking lives here.

he says, "mind if i sit?" but really he mouths, because you can't hear him past your music. you scoot closer to the window to make as much space as possible and he situates himself comfortably next to you.

he says something, you know he does, but you choose to ignore him in favor of some song you aren't really even listening to. you didn't want to talk about it. you didn't even want to acknowledge it.

you stand, planning to get off at the next stop even though your actual one had two more to go, but you don't care. all you care about is getting away from—

he grabs your wrist and yanks you down back to your seat. the abrupt movement makes one earphone fall off, and it lands in his lap. he fishes it with his free hand and hands it over with a kind smile. "this isn't our stop yet."

you flush, humiliated. "i—"

"you've been avoiding me all week," sugawara says softly, and your eyes well up in the slightest at the his voice sounding so... so... "if you don't want to talk, that's fine, just... don't go."

you press your lips together and take your earphone back, putting it away in its case. you look away and lean back on the window, trying to think about what to say, what to do, when he finally confronts you.

you're too distracted by your thoughts to notice that sugawara's hand on your wrist loosens, drifting up to hold your hand.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Hangman Master List

Back to Main Master List

Multi-Part Stories

THE DANGER ZONE MASTERLIST >

Left at the Altar Part 2 [*] Part 3 Epilogue [*] - Fem!Reader (Ex-Girlfriend!Reader)

CW: Suggestive/Implied Sexual Content (Part 2 and Epilogue), Angst, Exes, Pregnancy and Kids (Epilogue only)

Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

COMPLETED

Sequel: Stay Away from the Altar

What is L-O-V-E? Part 2 Part 3 - Bradshaw!Fem!OC (Lena) (Ex-Wife!OC)

Summary: Lena Bradshaw (formerly Seresin) struggles once again to keep the peace between her ex-husband Jake and her older brother Bradley for her son's sake. And the uranium facility mission only seems to heighten the stakes of it all.

DISCONTINUED

Prologue To Be a Man Part 2 Part 3 - Wife!OC (Sophie)

CW: Secret Marriage; Non-Traditional Family Dynamics; Marriage of Convenience; Type 1 Diabetes

Summary: Hangman is married. And it’s no one else’s business.

PART 4 COMING SOON

Blood in the Water - Cain!OC (Alina)

CW: Arranged & Political Marriage; Post-Apocalypse AU with a Medieval Feel; Blatant Sexism; Abuse from Family Members

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, the livable landscape is carved up by warlords. After a long war with the Dagger Clan, the Cain Empire has been defeated, but peace cannot be brokered without a sacrifice. Hangman assumes that a marriage is that sacrifice. Cain thinks that Hangman’s death is a better trade.

DISCONTINUED

Never Have I Ever Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Civilian Contractor! Female! Reader (Dove)

CW: Not Necessarily Healthy Decisions/Coping Mechanisms; Shy! Reader; Slow Burn; Coworkers to Friends to Lovers; Excessive Pining

Summary: Dove is tired of being stereotyped as the nice, quiet girl who's so innocent it hurts. So, who does she call to help her? Hangman.

PART 4 COMING SOON

One Shots

Wedding Day - Fem!Reader

Summary: Hangman falls in love with his wife all over again when he sees her in her wedding dress for the first time.

I'll Carry You - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Summary: Hangman and his wife attend a naval ball. When her shoes give her blisters, Hangman ensures that she gets back to the car comfortably.

Lunch Break [*] - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

CW: Suggestive Situations/Content

Summary: Jake and his wife are going through a dry spell. Luckily, his secretary Linda is the best wingwoman in all of Miramar.

A Morning Work Out - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

CW: Implied Sexual Content

Summary: Jake goes through his normal morning routine with his son and wife.

Beach Day - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

CW: Referenced Sexual Innuedos/Situations

Summary: Jake and his wife enjoy a beach day with their three kids.

Stay Away from the Altar - Wife!Reader; Fem!Seresin!OC / Male!Bradshaw!OC

CW: (Over)protective Dad!Hangman; Angst; Fighting; Rebellious Teenagers; Crying; References to Previous Pregnancy Scares

Summary: Jake isn't ready to accept that his daughter is growing up. And he's definitely not ready to accept that his daughter seems to have fallen for Rooster's spawn.

A Little Tag-a-Long - Female!Reader (Peach)

Summary: Hangman is excited to finally take out Peach, the woman that he's been in love with for months now. Except Peach gets called into babysitting duty right before their date.

A Happy Fourth - Wife!Reader

CW: Implied Sexual Content; Outdoor Shower

Summary: You and Hangman enjoy your Fourth of July together.

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Wife!Reader

CW: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Threats of Kicks to the Balls

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

The Love Game - Fem!Reader (Glitch)

CW: Unrequited Love; Angst; Emotional Angst; One-Sided Relationship; ‘He’s in Love with Someone Else’ Trope

Summary: Glitch has been in love with Hangman for years but he’s getting married to another woman.

A.N. Multiple Pairings: Hangman/Glitch; Hangman/Fem!OC; Glitch /Mystery Dagger

Gray - Fem!Reader

CW: Jake’s Sad; Showering Together; Half-Naked Cuddling

Summary: You try to cheer your boyfriend Hangman up.

Little Seresin - Wife!Reader

Summary: You surprise your husband by putting your daughter in an opposing team's jersey.

[amazingmsme]

Listen Here Punk!

AN: Day 2 comin' in hot! I didn't really intend to do 2 spiderverse fics in a row, but they fit the prompts. Been wanting to write something with Hobie & Miguel, & this idea just jumped out at me!

Miguel didn't necessarily mind sharing his lab space. He knew he had state of the art equipment, and quite frankly everyone wanted to get their hands on it. He'd never admit it in a million years, but he liked the quiet company of someone working nearby with the low hum of machinery droning on in the background.

But that's the thing: he liked quiet company. And Hobie was being anything but.

Hobie had asked him if he could use his 3-D printer while he was in the lunch line. He said sure and shooed him away, and he'd expected he'd be gone by the time he made it back to his office. Needless to say, it was wishful thinking.

Not only was he still there, but he had a damn boombox with him, and it was blaring heavy rock much too loud for his ears.

"Hey I'm back, could you turn it down?" he shouted as he walked in. Hobie looked right at him, and didn't turn it down, so he repeated himself. "Hey, could you turn it down?"

Much to his dismay, Hobie locked their gazes and cranked the volume up.

Miguel glared and marched over, turning the volume so low it was barely audible. Just as he made it back to his desk, the music blared so loud it made him jump.

He whipped around and noticed the way Hobie was hunched over his project sporting a sly smirk.

"Hobie, this isn't funny. I'm asking nicely, please turn off the music," he said, a final warning.

"See, an' I'm trynna give you a better taste in music," he quipped, snickering to himself quietly. If it weren't for Miguel's superhuman hearing, he probably wouldn't have heard it over the deep bass coming through the speakers.

"I'd like it a hell of a lot better if you turned it down!" he yelled, voice barely raising above the music.

"Well that's no way to listen to this kinda music, bruv," he teased, turning the volume dial up even more.

That seemed to be the last straw, because Miguel snapped. He slammed his hand on the boombox and turned it off before setting his sights on Hobie, who was trying hard to play it cool.

"We all know cats land on their feet, let's see if it's he same for spiders, eh?" he asked, walking him closer to the edge of the platform. It was only 15 feet off the ground, so he really wasn't worried about actually hurting him.

"Wait a minute, I was just jokin'!" he tried justifying his behavior, but it was too late. Miguel grabbed him under his arms, hoisting him in the air as he was about to chuck him off. But then he started giggling.

"P-put mehehe dohohown!" he pleaded, legs kicking frantically. His outline grew more sketchy and erratic, his colors more vibrant. Miguel was in such shock, that he did just that... But he didn't let him go. Something Hobie realized with growing fear.

A giddy, terrified grin played at his lips as he clamped his arms to his sides, keeping Miguel's hands trapped in his pits. His own hands were clutching Miguel's forearms for dear life.

"You don't have to do this mate," he pleaded, though excitement glimmered in his eyes.

Miguel clicked his tongue, cocking his head to the side. "I kinda do though. You deliberately went against me, then tried to play it off as a joke-"

"It was a joke!"

"Don't interrupt me," he said sternly, wiggling his fingers in warning. It sent him sputtering, doubling over in his grasp as he tried to fight off the mirth that was building up in his chest. "It's rude. Just like turning up the volume after being asked politely to turn it down," he said sternly, though Hobie could've sworn he saw a fleeting smile.

"Ihihi'm sohohorry!" he caved rather quickly, having heard the rumors of how ruthless Miguel could be.

"Thanks, but I really don't believe you. I mean, you're laughing through your apology! That seems far from sincere to me," he taunted, drilling his thumbs in the center of his pits, making him scream.

"Ihihit's literally your fahahahault!" he cried, stomping his feet as he tried to run out of his grip, with no payoff. His feet simply scraped against the floor as he stayed put.

"Wooow, I didn't expect you to be one to victim blame," he teased.

"I'm the bloody victim here!" Hobie yelped, squirming around in Miguel's hold. "L-lehehet me gohoho!"

"Hmm, I don't know if I should," he wondered aloud, drumming his fingers down his ribs. Hobie doubled over, hugging his arms to his chest as deep belly laughs and sporadic snorts filled the air. "I mean, do you really deserve mercy after that little stunt?" Miguel added, not even bothering to hide his smirk anymore.

"Yehehes Ihihi do!" he insisted, having to lean against Miguel for support as his knees buckled.

He chuckled and shook his head, releasing him from his hold. "Fine. But next time, just listen to me punk. It'll save us both the head ache," he said, giving him a pat on the back as he walked over to his monitors.

"Yeah right, you totally enjoyed that. Smug ass," Hobie quipped, having regained his breath fairly quickly. Miguel looked at him from over his shoulder, arching a brow.

"You want me to actually throw you off?" he threatened in warning.

"Nah I'm leavin' 'm leavin'," he mumbled, stepping off the edge, letting himself fall for a few seconds before shooting a web to catch himself.

Hobie ended up forgetting his boombox. When he remembered a few hours later, he was more than amused to find Miguel, working while listening to music. The same music he had complained about earlier.

"That's funny, thought you didn't like it," he quipped, making his presence known as he walked up from behind. Miguel didn't even flinch.

"Never said I didn't like it. Just asked you to turn it down."

[faulty-writes]

Oh oh I’ve got one! Vash Stampede flirting/dating a shy reader headcannons ♥️ please and thank you (sorry had to resend bc I was afraid my asks wasn’t sent)

It's cool dear anon. I'm so excited, my very first Trigun Stampede request! Please let me know how I did, I adore Stampede Vash but I absolutely love the Vash from the 1998 TV series. Not to say the Vash from Stampede isn't loveable, he's downright adorable. But I don't know, right now I'm a sucker for 98' Vash. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this request and please don't hesitate to request more if you happen to like it <3

"Come on needle noggin!" Wolfwood snapped after punching Vash in the head. "Just go over there and say hello! It's not like your dumbass hasn't talked to worse. You've stared at them enough to make a point!" While Vash didn't necessarily agree with Wolfwood, it was true that he had fixated on you recently.

"H-hi there!" were the first words he had spoken to you after casually walking up to the counter of the saloon you worked in. You remember how bright and friendly his smile was but how you stepped back out of instinct. "Oh, shy, right? S-sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you! Heh, heh," he awkwardly waddled back to his seat knowing the last thing he needed to cause was trouble for you.

His second attempt started with "Hi there, heh…just thought I'd try to talk to you again." He chuckled as he laid his hands on the counter. "I heard your name is Y/n," he smiled sheepishly, "what a pretty name." Maybe all you needed was a compliment to make you smile, he'd sure love to see that.

"I don't know, I mean they seem pretty shy. I wouldn't want to push them out of their comfort zone, you know? That's kind of not nice," he said, politely turning down Wolfwood's idea to ask you out. "Pff, suit yourself," he mumbled in reply, "but wait too long and someone else is going to snatch them up and you won't like that."

"Hey…it's me again," he said on a quiet night when the saloon was empty of customers. "Sorry if I've been bothering you lately, I know you're kind of shy but…" he chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "I'd be interested in…well t-talking to you, heh. I'm willing to listen to anything you'd like to talk about!" Everyone deserved that, right? And since you were busy dealing with customers all day, he was sure you had a lot to say.

You didn't realize his flirting attempts were flirting attempts at all because well, they didn't exactly make sense. "You know…I really admire the way you fill the glasses up," he chuckled. "You're always so careful to make sure the foam doesn't spill over the top," he smiled at you, hoping you'd say something in return, but you just thought his words were as strange as he was.

After a while, you grew accustomed to his warm smile and gentle voice so much that you looked forward to his visits. You also started to get to know his friends, who seemed a bit on edge but friendly. Vash noticed this slight increase in confidence and couldn't be happier for you.

His idea of asking you out was to suggest something quiet to do together to make you feel safe and comfortable. Of course, you never imagined it would end with the two of you staring at the five moons that hovered in the sky.

It surprised you that Vash always leaned close when you spoke and maintained eye contact. Of course, you weren't used to having someone's full attention. But it was still comforting to know that he was always interested in what you were doing or saying.

"Oh, heh sorry! I d-didn't mean to, really um..." The first time the two of you had fallen asleep together, you woke up to Vash's arms securely wrapped around you as if he were afraid that you'd get up and leave in the middle of the night. Of course, after hearing a few things about his past it was understandable why he felt so scared to lose you.

"Sorry…I guess I couldn't help myself, heh…" His face was completely flustered after he kissed you, as was yours. "I…understand if you don't feel the same way, not many people would want to be with…Vash the Stampede. Heh, the Humanoid Typhoon." He nervously chuckled before asking, "S-so…how do you feel?"

"What?!" Meryl snapped, grabbing your shoulders. "I'm happy for you but are you sure this is what you really want?" she asked. "Why don't you let them make their own mistakes, little miss?" Wolfwood said, stepping between you two. "If they want to date needle noggin, then that's on them…" Although he knew that if Vash messed up, he'd receive a beating.

"Ta-da!" Vash exclaimed as he uncovered your eyes to reveal the ruined city of July leaving you in shock. Why would he insist the two of you come here? "I know it's a little weird, but I thought I'd bring you here for our date because..." he reached over to hold your hand. "I think it's about time this place had good memories again."

He always stuck to his belief in protecting something more than anything else in this world: you. This meant he'd step in front of you whenever suspicious characters were around, or people looked at you the wrong way. Blocking their view of you and being ready for action if the situation escalated was something he was all too willing to do.

[jyndor]

the swifties being insane about joe alwyn will never cease to amaze me. like at this point it really just seems like they were INCOMPATIBLE in terms of their desires for their lives - clearly taylor loves the spotlight and being so visible (on her own terms of course), and clearly joe does not. this isn't necessarily a man forcing a woman to choose between her career and her relationship. I can respect the fact that she likely felt like she was choosing to stay out of the spotlight for joe and that it wasn't what she ultimately wanted after years together, and how much it sucks when someone you think you're gonna spend the rest of your life with isn't the right person after all.

this man has done nothing but stay quiet on taylor. and maybe he's a narcissistic controlling abusive piece of shit, and I'll eat shit if that comes out obviously, but at this point it just feels like a relationship that they both outgrew.

she's allowed to be hurt and to have her narrative and i am sure he HAS hurt her, she was clearly grieving this relationship for some time. but I will remind people that her music is literally art - who knows how much is literal or fiction or even just words that sound nice together. and it sure does seem like they've had their rough patches and toxic moments throughout the years, okay that doesn't mean he is an abuser.

this guy is getting more hate than racist ass ratty healy from stans and that's honestly unhinged of you guys.

she's not your friend, you don't know her. you don't need to harass some b-list actor on her behalf.

[fellow-travelers-fic-recs]

Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | Fire Island Fics (1970s Era)

An assortment of fics prominently featuring Fire Island and/or the 70s era… not necessarily together. Some time travel or fics that span decades including the 70s or Fire Island adjacent.

✨ Show the authors some love with your comments and kudos after reading. Likes are lovely, but please reblog this post to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🔥 Only Himself to Blame [E, 1K] by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) An evening out leads to some fun on the floor.

🏝️ very pretty weeds [T, 2K] by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific Hawk has really put Tim through the emotional wringer this weekend, and he seems far too nice to deserve any of it. Rafael tries his best to give his new friend a warm send-off and a few words of wisdom.

Or, the walk to the ferry from Rafael's POV.

🔥 gold-skinned, eager baby [E, 10K] by @lispenard-street | lispenardstreet Tim sets out for Fire Island with a single goal: to dig Hawk out of his pit of self-destruction.

As it turns out, Hawk is after something else entirely.

A 1979 fix-it… of sorts.

🏝️ Just Like Church [E, 12K] by @bre1995 | bre_thomas & @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) It starts with a postcard. With Skippy, I need you. It starts with Tim arriving on Fire Island. Where it goes, only the Island knows.

A retelling of White Nights, with some tweaks.

🔥 'I Look at You' [E, 2K] by @bre1995 | bre_thomas Tim and Hawk have an intimate and peaceful conversation over dinner. When old feelings start creeping back in.

🏝️ I'm Sorry [M, 8K] 💠 by arrowtheapollo Set on Fire Island in the 1970s. Tim finds his way back home after the T party, and he and Hawk have a heart-to-heart that they should've had years ago.

🔥 I Have You [NR, 1K]  by @beyondxmeasure | Cyantific  After receiving a cryptic postcard, and hearing from Lucy that Hawk's in trouble, Tim takes a trip back east to find out for himself.

A different version of the events that unfold on Fire Island, told from Tim's perspective.

🏝️ To Have And To Hold [M, 945] 💠 by Joycee What could have happened between Hawk’s breakdown and the talk with Tim by the pool on Fire Island.

🔥 a place to be [E, 5K] by @satelarry | satelarry Tim and Hawk spend a week at their house in Fire Island. The brown haired man's been fantasizing about something that his boyfriend is happy to oblige.

🏝️ this time imperfect [M, 16K] by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup 1986. Marcus arrives at Hawk's house and gives him a box. Marcus doesn't know that the paperweight in the box is a time traveling device. Will Hawk change anything, given the chance? We'll see.

🔥 My Friend Tim [G, 2K] 💠 by Joycee Hawk’s explanation to Lucy & Kimberly when he returned from Fire Island.

🏝️ something i can't go without [E, 8K] by @satelarry | satelarry Hawk goes to Fire Island to escape dealing with his feelings, but that isn't far away from Tim's kind heart.

Perhaps he doesn't want it to be.

Or, The Meat Rack AU.

🔥 It's more than just words, it's just tears and rain [E, 2K] by @fuddlewuddle | Fuddlewuddle “Why didn’t you let me just carry on trying to drink myself to death?”

Tim jolts from the doze he’d start to fall into it at Hawk’s question, brow furrowing as his sleep fuzzy brain tries to process the words; before sitting up suddenly, because what the fuck?

🏝️ There's no place I'd rather you be than with me. [E, 719]  by @in-our-special-place | Cupping_Cakes

Their embrace was raw and primal, fueled by the angst of wanting each other but being afraid to admit it.

(Not Quite) Fire Island, Adjacent and other 1970s Era Fics

🔥 Cutting this short would be most logical option [T, 4K] by @timothydavidlaughlin | mauralabingi It's a lovely day in 1980 and Tim's enjoying a quiet day off. Then there's a knock on his door.

🏝️ He tried---He really tried. But Lost. [E, 6K] by @arlenejp | arlenejp Since there is no backstory as to who or what Craig is I decided to write something about him. Something about his feelings toward Hawk and their Fire Island escapades.

🔥 Don't leave it to the last dance [M, 2K] by @fuddlewuddle | Fuddlewuddle Tim is in hospital. Hawk brings him his mail. One letter is not like the others.

🏝️ a man i once knew [T, 3K] 💠 by vexinganthony It was the sort of love you read about in novels, none of which Tim had read, but he didn’t need to. He still felt it in his bones, a feeling so potent and alive in his blood, in every breath that he took, every beat of his heart.

It called out just one name.

The name of the man currently standing mere feet away from him with his wife and daughter.

Or, Tim and hawk find themselves at a charity gala in 1974.

🔥 Too old to play (and too young to mess around) [M, 60K] by @bejeweledmp3 | ninav Kimberly Fuller goes on a two-week vacation to San Francisco, in which she: drinks excessive amounts of tea, gets betrayed, cries more than she should, eats donuts, and seeks out truth with the help of a man she only knows from a presentation card; not necessarily in that order.

But mostly, she finds her father in every least expected place. And learns to make her peace with what that means.

🏝️ we'll be on the road like Jack Kerouac [M, 4K] by @jesterlesbian | captainquint He tried to think of what Tim would do or say. The man who had only spoken to his son a handful of times over one weekend in 1968, but had seemed to understand him far better than Hawk ever had.

The business card felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket.

An idea burst to life in Hawk’s mind. This was an emergency if he’d ever seen one.

“What would you say to coming with me to San Francisco?”

Or, Hawk and Jackson go on a cross-country road trip to San Francisco.

🔥 I Reach for You (And You Bring Me Home) [M, 1K] by @misstwentyynine | misstwentyynine In 1952, Hawk and Tim meet for the first time at a bar located in the enigmatic paradise of Fire Island, forging a powerful connection that continues to bring them together as their story progresses through space and time.

Or, The San Junipero AU

🏝️ The Crumbling Beard [M, 30K] 💠 by AnonymouslyUnknown1900 What was happening with Lucy while Hawk was with Tim for who knows how long in San Francisco? What was going through her mind during the days of no contact with Hawk? What eventually caused her to divorce the man she's been married to for 31 years?

After a phone call with her distant brother (who is now a porn producer) Leonard, everything ends up coming together. Videos from "Fire Island", and other discoveries that the two siblings made after reuniting is unearthed, which not only causes them to bond closer, but it puts a permanent end to Hawk's relationship and ties to the Smiths.

🔥 Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps It’s Real [NR, 35K] 💠 by drabbleswabbles And then it happened. The metallic screech of the gate, the shuffle of men stepping out beyond the prison walls. And suddenly there he was. His hair was shorter than he’d ever seen it. And his glasses were different. But it was him. Their eyes met. Tim stared at him in wide-eyed shock before recognition melted his features into a confused outrage.

Basically a fix-it in which Hawk finds himself back in the early 70s.

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn't linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you're linked already, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

[xoxo-ives]

the way you weigh your head on mine

empty apartments and quiet moments.

or, reader can't sleep when tim isn't home.

wc: 983

(title from 'heaven sent is a coffee cup' by bears in trees)

The apartment is quiet, and you hate it. It’s always quiet when Tim is gone, though. When he’s Red Robin, when he’s working, when he’s on dates. It’s the kind of quiet that sits uncomfortably in your throat, pressing into your lungs and almost choking you. You’d never say it out loud, and you aren’t sure you could even articulate it properly, but some part of your heart, a deep and secret part, aches when he is gone. You hadn’t noticed until he was gone more frequently, but you’d become so accustomed to having him around that his absence felt like a personal affront.

Right now, he’s patrolling the city. It’s late, two or three in the morning. You have class in the morning, and you know you should be asleep, but something about knowing Tim isn’t home yet keeps you awake. You aren’t worried, necessarily. You know he can take care of himself, and he isn’t alone out there. But knowing that he's out in the crisp autumn air, cheeks and nose and ears likely pink with the wind chill, keeps you waiting up for him.

You want to call him and ask when he’ll be home. Say you can’t sleep until he gets back, and you’re tired. You know he’d be disappointed in you for it, would tell you that you’re supposed to be asleep. That you have to be in class in only six hours. That you have better things to be doing than waiting for him to come home. But then he’d get home and see you, cozy and snug in your hoodie, face soft with tiredness, and he’d just smile at you.

You’re so tired you’re barely awake when you finally hear a window creak open, followed by the sound of boots hitting the floor. There are footsteps across the room, and then the door to Tim’s bedroom is open and he’s there in front of you. He looks tired, worn down by the endless weight of justice and duty on his shoulders. He’s got a split lip, and the beginnings of a bruise are forming on his left cheek. Despite it all, his face lights up when he sees you. There’s something so domestic, so warm about coming home to someone waiting up for him.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’re home.”

“I am,” he replies, equally as soft. “You’re still awake.”

“Yeah. Probably should have gone to sleep a while ago, but I…can’t sleep when you’re not here. Feels wrong.” The words come easily, coaxed out of you in a way only sleep deprivation can achieve. You wouldn’t normally say that, and you’ve somehow avoided saying it in the several months you’ve been living with him so far.

“What?” he asks, frowning. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s too quiet when you’re out. The apartment feels too…empty. I don’t like it. It makes me uneasy, and I can’t sleep.” You shake your head. “Maybe it’s dumb, I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t sound dumb to me. It sounds nice. Sounds like you want me around, you know?”

“Of course I want you around. You’re my best friend, idiot,” you mumble fondly. “C’mere.”

You reach out your hands, beckoning him to get closer. When he does, you put your left hand on his jaw, tilting his head slightly as the fingers of your right hand ghost over his cheek. He’s watching you watch him, and his eyes are somewhere between exhausted and fond.

“You got a bruise here,” you observe, and he hums out a noise of vague acknowledgement. “What happened?”

“Just some mugger,” he mumbles. “Caught me off guard.”

“Caught you off guard? You losing your touch, boy wonder?” He rolls his eyes at your teasing, pushing your shoulder lightly.

“I was just distracted,” he says dismissively. You know better than to ask when he uses that tone of voice. The one that leaves no room for curiosity or concern. The one that almost forces you to drop whatever question or quip you have building at the back of your throat. The one that makes your head spin, though you’d never tell him that.

“Distracted? By what?” you ask (against your better judgment).

“Doesn’t matter.” He’s just this side of annoyed, and he’s clearly had a long night, and you really should drop it.

“Clearly it does, if you were so off your game you got punched that hard.” You don’t.

“Just leave it, okay?” he snaps. “I was thinking about something else, and I wasn’t paying attention. It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

“Fine, keep your secrets,” you mutter. “You really should clean that lip, too. Don’t want it to get infected.”

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to mother me.” You bite your tongue, wanting to yell at him. Wanting to scream that you’re not trying to mother him, that you just want to make sure he comes home safe to you every night. That you want to know that he’s alright. That you want to know that someone’s taking care of him, because most of the time, it sure as hell isn’t him that’ll do it. But you don’t yell. You just nod.

“Okay. Sorry,” you whisper. “Do you want tea or anything?” He sighs heavily.

“Tea sounds nice, actually. Chamomile, please.” You move to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil and setting two mugs out. You drop two tea bags into them and perch yourself on the counter, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. You barely notice when Tim comes into the kitchen, squeezing his way in between your knees and wrapping his arms around your torso. His head rests just under your chin, and you twist little sections of his hair around your fingers. When the water boils, he pours it and immediately returns to leaning against you.

“You alright?” you ask softly. “Long night?”

“Yeah,” he says. “You have no idea.”