#rhink drabble

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

prompt!!! holding hands.. softly, maybe for the first time-- present day <3

Lydia 🥰

---

The car is like a time machine. The gravel crunching under the tires. The wind blowing from the open windows, messing up their hair. Music blasting from the speakers—carefully chosen to fit the desired mood by Link, of course. The twists and turns of the roads they haunted as children feel familiar and comforting. 

Rhett tries to keep his eyes on the road but it’s a tall order. Link’s smile is dazzling.

Rhett takes another quick turn, making Link slide against his side. Link laughs, steadying himself on his seat, and for a beat, Rhett can’t differentiate between the teen boy in his memories and the man sitting next to him in the present. They’re the same. And they’re both his in a way that goes bone deep.

His joy overflows and Rhett has to wipe away a tear that’s threatening to fall.  

“You know I love you, right?” Link says, his blue eyes tracking Rhett’s movement. Rhett can only manage a shaky nod. Link’s smile widens, as impossible as that is, and he reaches for Rhett’s hand. Rhett squeezes tight, hoping Link will understand his meaning.

“I know,” Link assures and his thumb drags soft circles into Rhett’s skin.

[unhinged-nymph]

Sorry about your hand! 😣 For the five-sentence fic: Link; knife

Aw thank you! It doesn’t hurt really at all but typing bloooows.

I’m not sure if you intended this to be shippy, but like I had to, lmao. This was also somewhat inspired by Rhett’s super soft “Thanks, Link” from today’s gmm 🥺 

Rhett whips around, having just heard the knife clatter to the ground followed by a sharp hiss from Link. He quickly covers the distance between them and gathers his friend’s hands in his own, flipping them over to inspect for injury and finding a small slice on the left palm.

Rhett leaps into action and gathers supplies from a nearby cabinet to gently bandage the wound. He then surprises both of them by bringing the wrapped hand up and pressing his lips to it before whispering, “All better?”

Link blinks up at his friend and nods, feeling overwhelmed with both gratitude and disbelief, before he breathes out, “Thank you, Rhett.”

Short bonus, if you’ll allow it 😆 :

“Anything for you, Bo.”

“And thanks for not teasing me about being bad with knives.”

This was v fun!!! I gotta get back into drabble writing lol. Thanks so much for sending me this!!

[simp4konig]

"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

                                        ...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

[rhinkcentral]

Welcome to Rhink Central!!

• My name is E and I’m a 20 year old trans man who loves GMM and Rhett & Link. I’ve been in the fandom for years now but finally decided to make a blog dedicated to it!

What will you find here?

• You’ll find anything related to GMM, Rhett & Link, and Rhink! I reblog posts, might make my own, and I also write and roleplay!

What will I write?

• Well… as the blog and my interests may lead you to believe, I write Rhink (Rhett/Link)!

• I write one-shots and small drabbles that pertain to the boys as I get requests. Some may not be requested, but most of the time I write requests since they’re the most fun!

• I usually write fluff, as that’s my go to—I love to bring a smile to people’s faces with my works.

• I write both SFW and NSFW, so please never be afraid to ask!

• Requests are open, so don’t be afraid to leave something in my inbox!

That’s all! More to be added soon…

[twistedboxy]

Found a piece of paper with this drabble written on it. There's a clip about this in the Ear Biscuits-How Link Escaped a Pyramid Scheme.

“Rhett, our kids are out of control! I went to grab something out of their bathroom and it was a mess. I found underwear in the sink! Who does that?” Link shouted pacing around their living room. Rhett just watched Link get his rant out. “Come sit here with me.”

Link huffed and snuggled into Rhett’s arms.

“We’ll talk to them around dinner,” Rhett said.

“Okay.”

Later at dinner

“Kids, we need to have a chat,” Rhett started. Murmurs of “I didn’t do it” or “Wasn’t me occurred.”

“No, you're not in trouble. I just want you to be more aware and clean up after yourselves better.”

“Okay, dad.” The children answered.

[lowkey-dad-blog]

A slow morning

A PG drabble, Rhett/Link established relationship

The room was bathed in the warm glow of an early morning as Rhett blinked his eyes open, taking his time to adjust to the soft light.

Link, as usual, had tossed and turned all night, and now had his left arm slung over Rhett's stomach, while his left leg was interlocked with Rhett’s. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and Rhett could feel the warm huffs of breath on his skin where link was pressed against him.

The light shining through the blinds left lines of light on Link’s tanned skin, and Rhett couldn’t help but slowly stroke his fingers through the columns of light, leaving ripples of shadows where he went.

Link made soft noise in his sleep, and pushed himself closer to Rhett, wrapping his arm all the way around him, getting so close that his face was now on Rhett’s chest, rising and falling in the rhythm of his breathing. 

Rhett brought up his hand, and let his fingers push through the grey streaks in Link’s hair, keeping his touch as soft as he could as not to wake him. Rhett remembered a Link with a soft puffy cheeks and a high voice, and now the grey had taken over his hair and soft lines had formed in the corners of his eyes. 

It was strange in a way. Sometimes he missed the other Links of the past. He missed the Link he had ran around cow pastures with. He missed the Link who’d fall asleep in his car as they aimlessly drove around country roads. He missed the Link who nervously chattered about a girl he thought he might marry. He missed the Link who smiled at him softly as they decided to uproot their lives and move to California. 

But this Link? This Link whose head was a bit too heavy on his chest, whose hair was more grey than black, whose arm was wrapped around him in a possessive manner? This Link was better than all of those Links combined, because this Link was all of those Links combined. 

The thought made his chest feel tight. Would he get to wake up 10 years from now, next to a head of fully grey hair and mind full of memories he couldn’t even imagine yet?

“What’s wrong?”

Rhett looked down to see Link looking back at him with sleepy eyes.

A smile crept on his lips, and he brought his hand to Links cheek. He brushed his fingers against the prickly stubble, and felt his heart swell just a little as Link closed his eyes again and leaned into the touch.

“Nothing’s wrong because you’re here.”, Rhett whispered. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on Link’s forehead.

Link huffed a soft laugh, and shimmied his body up so that he could press his face against Rhett’s neck.

“You’re getting soft in your old age, bo.”

Rhett smirked, and grabbed Link’s face to smush their lips together.

“And you love me anyway huh?”, he said as their lips pressed together in a slow kiss.

There was no rush in this kiss, no desperation or fear like many of their early kisses. This kiss was just soft, lips brushing against lips, hands softly caressing each other.

Rhett leaned in a little more, opening his mouth but Link smiled against his lips and pushed him away.

“If you want anything more than that you better brush your teeth first.”, he said as he sat at up at the edge of the bed. “Your morning breath stinks.”

Rhett watched as Link got up from the bed with a big stretch, and closed his eyes as he listened to the other man make his way to the kitchen to start up the coffee maker. He laid there in bed with his eyes closed, and felt his hear swell as he listened to Link humming an old country tune while his bare feet made soft noises on the hardwood floor.

The soft sounds of Link starting his day felt familiar and comforting and as he started to drift back to sleep Rhett felt himself smile.

This must be what feeling truly at peace is like.

[mythical-ross]

This is a little extract from the next chapter of Bonds Of Friendship, just so y’all know I haven’t forgotten about it (and for a bit of accountability). I’m semi back to work and I’m hoping a bit of routine will help me focus on stuff a little better, but who knows. Things are weird.

Link closed his eyes and moaned as Rhett’s lips moved down his jaw to his neck. “You’re so fucking hot,” Rhett muttered against Link’s skin. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Don’t,” Link managed to say. He wasn’t sure what he meant - don’t keep your hands off me or don’t say such things.

“Your body is so perfect,” Rhett went on. “I’m so lucky.”

Link felt his cheeks burn. If either of them was lucky, surely it wasn’t Rhett. Link was neurotic and bony, graying and needy; he was lucky Rhett was willing to be friends, never mind… whatever he was now.

“Your neck is so perfect,” Rhett murmured, peppering kisses along Link’s skin to punctuate the words. “Your jawline, your chin…”

Link’s tears that had mostly dried up, started flowing once more. “Stop,” he whispered. He was already feeling so vulnerable, he didn’t need to hear Rhett trying to bolster him.

“And your mouth,” Rhett said, paying him no heed. He lifted his head to bring their lips millimeters away from each other. “I love seeing my cock between your lips.” To emphasise his point, Rhett gave Link’s dick one long stroke from root to tip, fisting at the head to spread his precome.

(More to come, I swear)

[thinklink]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rhett & Link Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal Characters: Rhett McLaughlin, Link Neal, Jessie McLaughlin, Christy Neal, some mentions of mythical crew Additional Tags: rhink, Angst, vague use of terminal illness as a plot device, Mentions of Cancer, Vague Medical Procedures, Not the happiest of endings but also not terrible either, Infidelity Summary:

Rhett fainted the first time he heard he had herniated discs. Something that paled in comparison to being diagnosed with a terminal cancer. But he did not faint. He just sat there while Jessie clutched his arm and begged for an answer that would give him more time. He wouldn’t make it to the end of the year.

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Stolen kisses during Mythicon ❤️ (no pressure, LY anyway!)

(Re:post)

Inky ❤️ You know I love you too. I hope you like this. (another double drabble because for the life of me, I cannot be brief)

---

It’s a lot. 

Months of planning hadn’t prepared them for how the weekend would make them feel. Behind the brightly-lit buildings, they can still hear the excited clamor of the crowd. Both men are buzzing with unrestrained energy. They did this. They made this happen. Yes, there were other people involved, but it all started with the two of them. 

So, it’s a lot.

And when things got overwhelming, there was only one thing that calmed Link’s racing heart. As soon as they stepped into the shadows, Rhett pulled Link into his arms and found his lips with his own. Link melted against him, his lips parting with a soft moan. Rhett guided them against the wall, trapping Link between himself and the rough grain of the wood before licking his way into Link’s mouth. 

The desire for more was an acute ache, binding them together. Link tugged at Rhett’s collar, pulling him closer, deepening the already intense kiss when a shout tore them apart. They were needed. With a sigh, Rhett ducked down to claim Link’s lips one last time before they were on the move again, both doing their best to hide the evidence of their heated interlude.

[maybe-mythical]

“It was a joke, baby. I swear.” :):)

Rhink prompt: Fluff

Link slammed the door of their small dorm room and went straight to the fridge, grabbing a can of beer and throwing himself into his desk chair. As he cracked it open, Rhett burst through the door, eyes wide with concern.

“Come on man, it was a joke!” Rhett explained for the millionth time, “seriously it was just supposed to be funny.”

“Wax paper taped to the rug? Are you kidding me? That’s not even funny that’s just stupid!” Link ranted back, raising his arms in the air, sloshing his beer in the process. Rhett has seen his best friend angry before, but this was different. Link was PISSED.

“It was like the Wax Paper Dogz, I thought you’d appreciate the humor,” Rhett said, meekly, eyes down downcast. “Fucking hilarious,” Link rolled his eyes in response and took another long sip of his drink.

“It was a joke, baby, I swear,” Rhett pleads, desperation to calm his friend overtaking all of the sense he had left in him. The words simply fell out of his mouth faster than he could stop them. There was a pause and the air in the room became heavy.

“Baby,” Link said simply, testing out the word in his mouth. All the anger seemed to be sucked out of him as he processed what had just happened. “That’s... new,” the lack of judgement in Links tone was the only thing keeping Rhett from wanting to disappear into the floor.

“Yeah, that was a joke t-,” Rhett began, but was immediately interrupted with a “No, it wasn’t.” Here it was, a choice. Rhett could try and play it off, like he always did. Use humor to mask his feelings and laugh it off. Make it another “gotcha” moment of many. All of the “don’t touch me”’s and the “love you like a brother”’s flashed into his head. All of the missed opportunities of the past. All of the times he hid from his feelings instead of confronting them head on. He had a decision to make. Continue as is, or interrupt the pattern.

“No, it wasn’t, baby,” Rhett responded, softly, earnestly, “I’m really sorry, by the way. Are you hurt?” Link nodded slightly and pouted while pointing to his elbow. Instinctively, and in a way testing the dynamic that had just shifted in the room, Rhett leaned in and pressed his lips softly against the injured area. His voice was husky and low when he spoke again, “Anywhere else?” Link pointed and Rhett kissed. His shoulder. His collarbone. His neck. Until finally, Link pointed to his lips, his finger shaking slightly. Rhett continues with their game and leaned in, pressing his lips against the plush ones of his best friend, no his soul mate. The first connection was chaste, but as they started to pull away they pressed back together like magnets. This time they explored deepening the kiss, Link’s tongue being granted permission into Rhett’s mouth, and Rhett’s hands finding purchase on Link’s lithe waist.

After time that could be described as seconds or an eternity, they pulled away. “It’s good to see you smile again,” Rhett whispered, inches away from Link’s lips. “You too, baby,” was the soft reply.

[ltatbymbfosho]

I Always Get Lucky With You

Link had been in a sour mood all week, understandably so. With finals, last minute assignments, and winter break rapidly approaching, that would be enough to stress any sane person out.

Rhett decided that he knew the perfect way to pull Link out of this funk. A surprise date to the movies and somewhere nice to eat. Something that they could do before they went back to Buies Creek and had to act like friends, not boyfriends.

When he walked into their dorm, Link was hunched over his desk passed out on top of a chemistry text book. He let out little snores and drool was pooling on his lecture notes. Rhett smiled to himself and walked over to his sleeping boyfriend, moving the notes so they wouldn’t be ruined. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head.

“Hmmm what’re ya doin’” Link said sleepily.

“Why don’t ya get in your bed it’ll be more comfortable.”

“”Cause ‘m studying.”

“Yeah I can tell, studying the back of your eyelids. C’mon, you need rest, because I’m taking you out tonight.” Rhett said as he gently rubbed his hand on Links back.

“Okay, only if you take a nap with me.”

Rhett sighed as Link turned toward him and stuck his arms out toward him. He picked Link up and gently placed him on the bottom bunk. The brunette scooted over, giving a small sliver of space to the blond. Rhett wrapped his arms around Link and placed his chin on top of his head.

“Wake me up in like two hours.” Link asked, fighting off sleep.

“Okay, bo.”

—————————

“That was seriously the worst movie over ever seen. I cant believe you spent money for us to see that.”

“Well, I’m not really sure how it was, because you had your damn tongue down my throat the whole time.” Rhett laughed.

“Well I had to do something to make it worth while. I was doing you a favor.”

“Well dinner will be better, I’m certain of it.”

“I sure as hell hope so. Otherwise, you’ll need to do something to make up for it McLaughlin.” Link laughed as he placed his hand on Rhett knee, giving him a knowing wink.

At that moment, the dynasty began to sputter and slow down.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”, Rhett whined as he slowly pulled over on the side of the road.

“We’re out of gas.” He said, resting his head on the steering wheel, avoiding Links death glare.

“What. The. Fuck. How did you let this happen? I’m starving and I need to finish studying for my chem final. You cannot be serious right now.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t do this on purpose. It’ll be fine. Well flag someone down and they can bring us some gas.”

Link huffed, opened the passenger door and climbed out, slamming it behind him.

Of course, he would try to do something to help Link out and it would go wrong. Rhett sat there desperately thinking of ways to make this situation better. He reached behind him, grabbing the large blue quilt he kept in the car, incase of an emergency. It was pretty chilly, probably forty-five degrees.

Rhett got an idea and turned the key in the ignition, just enough for the battery to kick the radio on. He rolled the windows down and tuned the radio up a few notches. The familiar sound of Merle Haggard poured from the speakers.

Rhetts tall frame climbed out of the Dynasty, and he walked to the passenger side, toward Link. He gently wrapped the blanket around their shivering shoulders.

“I’m sorry bo. I know this semester has been hard for you. I’m trying my best to keep you happy.”

“You do keep me happy. You make me happier than I ever knew was possible. I’m sorry I’m such an ass. I know this isn’t your fault. I love you.”

Rhett smiled as he gently brought his mouth down to Links.

“May I have this dance?” Rhett whispered into Links ear.

He shook his head and rested his head onto Rhetts warm chest.

They swayed together for hours, not caring that they had finals in a few hours, or that they were practically stranded. No, they only cared about each other.

Ive had good luck, and bad luck

And no luck, its true

But I always get lucky with you

[rhinkcentral]

Hey Rhink fans, I’m taking one-shot and drabble requests!!

[kaluwa-del-conte]

I need HELP! Plz~ 😩

I'm trying to find this one episode of GMM were Rhett said something along the lines of:

"This is so wrong. Like this person is crazy yet...you kind of like it."

Then Link responds like:

"heh, your that person to me."

It's as close as I can recall as to what was said. I just can't remember what episode it was from!? So, I am hoping someone can help me with this. I will truly appreciate it. 🙏

[lostinmythicality]

Late night thoughts...

Being so close all day for shooting makes them so warm they're already half undressed by the time they collide with the loft stairs. Laughing into kisses, playfully shoving each other up the stairs like they did when they were younger, Rhett never letting his hand leave Link's hip bone. Link escaping just briefly, giggling maniacally as he sits in Rhett's chair challenging him with eyes glittering like the ocean on a clear day. Rhett not hesitating and climbing on Link's lap, tracing his hands up links rib cage stopping at the spots he knows he'll get moans, pressing his beard into his exposed neck and breathing in and out, hot and wet...

[rhinky-thingz]

rhink: i'm sorry

(tw character death)

i'm sorry i didn't tell you that i loved you too, when you confessed to me all those years ago. you put your trust in me and i let you down. i stared at you, blank faced as you cried. every part inside of my body was screaming to just move. i longed to gather you up in my arms and wipe those tears away, ease your mind and say those words right back. but instead i froze.

i had spent my whole life supressing those feelings, completely certain there was no possible way you could've felt the same. i pushed them so far down that when the moment came for my dreams to come true, i ruined it by pretending as if i hadn't been in love with you since the day you punched that bully for me.

i'm sorry that the regret you lived in afterwards made you leave for slovakia. that day, as you walked out the door, i wished so deeply to beg you to stay. i wanted to look you in the eyes and drag you back into the safety of our shared room. i'd latch onto you there in fear of drifting apart dare i let go. but i didn't. i watched you leave and then suddenly, i was alone.

after months of solitude and never-dry eyes, i accepted the fact that you weren't coming back. i needed to move on, settle down and try to forget. i'm sorry i allowed myself to let you go so easily. but truthfully, you never left my heart.

when you came back, it was the happiest day of my life. i hugged you and i'm sorry i stopped myself from kissing your lips like i'd imagined doing for decades. i was going to. i swear i was. but by then, i was promised to another. when i told you that, your smile disappeared and my happiness went with it.

we never spoke of the incident that occurred before you left, but the memory of it still hung heavy between us. i could sense the sadness radiating off of you, and i'm sorry for causing that pain.

i'm so sorry i never told you this till now. now that you can't hear me anymore. i miss you. maybe one day, in heaven, you'll be mine. i can't wait to see you then, bo.

[so-make-the-moon]

rhett/link and the word is staircase!! - lovelyrhink

The loft was supposed to be a secret. Not even an inappropriate secret, just a place they could call their own in an office growing larger by the day. They needed a space for them. If it ended up being a place they could fool around during the day, well, that was just a bonus. Over time, though, it became like any other room in the building, people coming and going as they pleased. They lost their space.Which is why they find themselves in the emergency exit, Rhett lying back uncomfortably on the stairs, shirt rucked up with Link’s hands firmly splayed across his hips. “Fuck,” he says, shifting to relieve the tension in his back, “we really gotta get our loft back.”