#which genuinely i don’t mind and it makes me laugh… i love working with kids just DAMN they love to SWARM me sometimes LMAO

[stardustvanfleet]

goodnight everyone i will be falling asleep thinking about them 🖤🤍

[ourmadmusings]

We’re no worse off than the worse of them - 

It was obvious how soft he was for you. Gwen noticed as soon as she joined, the way his smile lingered long after you’d left, the way he’d follow you around the citadel like a lost puppy when you came back from a particularly risky mission, the way he’d actually listen to your advice and hear you out. His word was not final with you around, an interesting shift in dynamic compared to what she was used to. Hobie and Peter B. saw it, too. The way the two of you worked together on missions was like watching a well-rehearsed dance, to which the steps were borne to you both so naturally. You both played nice together, an odd juxtaposition to his usual lone-wolf routine.  You teased at him, poked fun at the way he’d grumble at the team, reminding him to play nice, they all had the universe’s best interest in mind, no matter how differently they went about showing it.  “So, do you think they’re like, an item?” Gwen asked over lunch, Peter snorted a laugh at the idea.  “Ha - no, I don’t really think so,” Hobie chimed in between bites, a small smile pulling at his full mouth, “I don’t reckon anyone could get that close to the boss-man and live to tell the tale.”  “Guys, come on, he’s not hardly as bad as you’re making him out to be here, give him some credit,” It’s Pav this time, a hum of agreement from Peter, too. “I bet the old man’s got some game under all that scowl.”  “I’m sorry, old man?” As if on-queue, O’Hara stands with hands on his hips over the table, an eyebrow raised and lips drawn tight, “‘m not much older than Peter, you know.” They give a short chorus of gasps, chokes, and a few laughs before O’Hara lets out a heavy sigh, “don’t you all have somewhere you ought to be, or do you enjoy wasting my time having to hunt down your little breakfast club?”  “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. If you keep frowning, you’ll just give yourself wrinkles, Miguel.” You’re quick to peer around his back, winking at the table. “Don’t you have a basket of puppies to spit on?” His eyes widen as he looks down at you, face turned up just enough to catch a toothy grin thrown at him, and attempt to lighten the mood from his scrutiny.  “Aye, that’s a good point,” Hobie finally chimes in again, “I gotta go anyways, Gwen?” He stands and pushes her tray back, an invitation to wander off. She stands and follows, Pav joins, and Peter mumbles something about needing to head home to put Mayday down. They all stare on their way out, watching the disposition shift almost immediately.  “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that with them around.” His words hold no heat, he’s got the ghost of a smile playing at his lips and you slide around to face him, hands on your hips to mirror his stance, “well, someone’s gotta show ‘em you’re not all bad. Besides, what’re you gonna do about it?” Your smile stays wide still as you carry on the conversation, a longer one than any of them have seen that hasn’t devolved into an argument.  “Is that an invitation or something?” He’s cheeky about it, “you did hear what else they said, no? They think I have game.”  It’s the raise of his eyebrow that sells it, you can’t help the yelp of a laugh that comes from you, “They’re not wrong, but I don’t think it’s the type of game you’d wanna brag about.” The tips of his ears heat up at your teasing, “are you trying to get me to fight with you?” He’s shifted his weight, a genuine smile gracing his features for once, stooping to face you directly, “oh-ho, is that a threat, old man?”  “Old?! Come on, you’re gonna hurt my feelings.”  “Ah, see! There’s that smile I love so much.” Your cheeks heat up at his teasing this time, the kids were right, maybe he did have some game, you thought.   The group stares at the two of you through the interaction, wide-eyed, open-mouthed stares sent between them. 

A few weeks pass and their investigation leads Gwen and Miles to follow the two of you closer. They needed concrete evidence of your relationship before they could accuse you of anything.  “Wait, whaddya mean, he was flirting?” Miles whispers from his place, a healthy few feet away from the commotion. A stray Doc Oc had shifted into another world, you and Miguel had decided it was too risky to send more spider-folk, so he opted to take you along in lieu of a full team.  “I don’t know -shh!” Gwen sticks a finger up over her masked-mouth, “but if he finds out we’re here, he’ll skin us alive. Keep it down.”  Your usual grace is no match for this particular anomaly, a quick strike from one of the metal arms sends you spiraling into a support beam with a sickening thunk. Miguel hollers for you, with no response. Another metal arm is just as fast as it catches your skull and thrashes you into the beam again, you’re limp by the time Miguel can confine him.  Miles and Gwen make a swift exit after that, catching only a glimpse of O’Hara as he rushed over to where you lay, an uncharacteristic panic in his voice as he supports your head and shoulders - “Lyla, send someone, please, hurry.”  Never once had they heard him willingly plead with the AI.  They don’t get an assignment from O’Hara for a while, and feign ignorance when Hobie and Pav ask.

a/n: ok how about a break from the regularly scheduled freak shit I usually post about O’Hara. He deserves some soft shit too smh.  Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 -

[nolita-fairytale]

strawberries & cigarettes | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader | blurb

summary: falling in love with carmen berzatto sometimes means strawberries and cigarettes

or rather, the one in which both you and carmy have oral fixations. 

word count: 923

loosely based on: strawberries & cigarettes | trouble -- both by troye sivan

masterlist

“Light me up?” he asks you, as you take another bite of the super-sized strawberry you’ve been working. You set it down with a smirk, before reaching for the lighter Carmy gestures towards, an unlit cigarette perched between his lips.

You flip the lighter on, clamping down on the back end with your thumb till it produces a flame, offering it up to your boyfriend. With unwavering eye contact he leans in—and it feels almost too intimate for a picnic in the public park—but you’re not going to be the first one to break. You keep your eyes on his as you light the cigarette, as Carmy leans back, balancing on his hand behind him, as he inhales deeply. 

There’s a glimmer in your eye, one that Carmen’s come to know well, as you pick up your half-bitten strawberry, raising it to your lips once more. You polish it off, the sweetness of the strawberry hitting your tongue, as the tension between the two of you builds. 

Finally, finally, he breaks. 

Carmy scoffs, breaking the intense, prolonged eye contact he holds with you, before exhaling the cigarette smoke in the opposite direction. 

You hum as if to ask him what he’s thinking about, only met with a shake of his head as he shoots you a knowing look. It’s one that says: 

You know exactly what you’re doing, you flirt. 

You giggle, with a sigh, because two can play at that game. 

With the fresh taste of strawberry still on your tongue, you lean in while he’s in between drags, pressing your berry-stained lips against his. Carmy inhales, wanting to memorize every single moment of this: the way you smell, the way your lips feel against his, the strangest combination of strawberries and cigarettes the two of you make together. 

He lingers just for a moment longer—besides, this picnic blanket has seen much worse in its day—but something about it being in the middle of Millenium Park reminds him he’s gotta keep this picnic PG (at least this time—all bets are off when it comes to more secluded locations). 

As if you’ve read his mind, you pull away with a smile still on your lips as tease him with, “Bear, this is a family establishment. There are kids around.” 

Your lips are still inches away from his. He leans in, giving you a smacking peck on the lips earning another laugh from you. Instead of answering with words, he sends you another look, one that says, ‘then keep your hands to yourself.’

With a playfully eyeroll you sit back on your haunches, trying to regain some semblance of self-control. You’re trying—you swear—to be on your best behavior, but before you know it, you’re lunging forward for another kiss. Carmy smiles a genuine soft smile, before leaving the same smacking kisses against your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your forehead. You squeal, more laughter erupting from your chest as he continues his more-than-welcomed, kiss-filled assault. Carmy leads you down on your back, the picnic blanket providing the softest landing for you as you beam up at your lover. Your eyes search his face as if somewhere, between the slant of his nose and the tilt of his mouth as they turn up into a small smile, you’ll discover the answers to this question you can’t seem to stop asking yourself.

How the hell did you get so lucky? 

Never did you picture the two of you here, at a picnic in Chicago just six months after picking up your entire life to be with this man. 

Only he’s not just some man. He’s Carmy. He’s your Carmy. 

And now you get to love him for as long as you’d like. 

“Watcha thinkin’ about?” Carmy asks you, as if he can see the gears turning in your head. 

“Jus’-. I don’t know. Just never thought it could get this good,” you answer with a sigh as he lays down beside you. 

You’d been through it all together, and yet, this felt like just the beginning. 

“Us?” he asks. As he turns his head towards you, his deep blues meeting yours, the question suddenly feels miles long, much more complex than the one word he utters. 

“I-. Maybe. Yeah,” you hesitate, propping yourself up on your side. “I guess… all of it, Carm.” 

He shrugs, “Yeah, I uh-. I don’t know.” 

He chooses his words carefully.

A beat. 

“Don’t know much about this… about… you know… when things get good.” 

“Me either,” you reply, honestly, and it feels like your heart is caught in your throat. 

“But I like this. What we have,” he offers, a timid look in his eyes. 

What we’re building.

“Me too, Carm. Me too,” you reply, softly, the two of you sharing a look as if you’ve come to a conclusion. 

With a silent nod, Carmy brings the cigarette up to his lips once more, taking a drag from it as he stares up at the clear, blue sky. A warmth fills you as you snuggle up, your body adjacent to his. You rest your head against his rib cage, your legs stretch out in the opposite direction. After a few moments of enjoying the sounds of the park around you, the smell of second cigarette smoke, and the lingering taste of strawberry on your lips, you pick up your book, tossed somewhere on the picnic blanket minutes earlier, and begin to read it. 

Neither of you have known what this feels like… but his love, and yours, it feels good.

[l5byrinth]

Before it’s too late

pairing: chad meeks martin x reader

summary: in which you and your best friend share secret feelings for each other. but you being attacked makes him realise how quickly life can come to an end.

requested !

a/n: ahhh my first imagine!! i’m so excited for you all to read it and hope you like it. english isn’t my first language so please stay nice if i make mistakes. my requests are open if you want to request something!

don’t copy my work or translate it on anywhere unless i give you the permission to

After the long and boring movie, you were walking through New York’s busy streets. Your hands were wrapped around your best friend’s - if you may say it - extremely muscled arm.

The best friend for whom your feelings grew stronger by the day.

You tried to ignore your sweaty hands, thumping heart and butterflies whenever you were around him. But it was hard.

Really hard.

You didn’t want to ruin the beautiful thing you had. Your long-lasting friendship.

“I can’t believe you actually enjoyed that movie.” You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief at what he had just admitted to you.

“What? Are you kidding me. It was pretty good.” Chad replied, a wide smile on his face.

You absolutely loved that smile, his beautiful genuine smile.

“Are you serious? I could make a whole list on what’s wrong about that movie. Front and back!” You exclaimed, receiving a chuckle from him.

“I am convinced we both saw a different movie.” Chad shrugged. A giggle left your lips at the weird taste of your best friend as you looked him in the eyes.

“You really are something, Chad.” You broke eye-contact with him, to watch the road you were crossing. “A good something, I hope.” He grinned, as you could feel him staring at you. you looked to your left and right before you crossed.

“Sometimes.” You shrug teasingly and you hear him laugh from beside you. The corners of your lips tug into smile when hearing the angelic sound.

After a while of walking around, talking and laughing the two of you had arrived in front of your dorm building. You let go of his arm, already missing his body so close to yours.

You were standing across from each other and somehow your feet didn’t want to move. You really didn’t want to go. You didn’t want this night to end.

“Should I walk you upstairs?” He questioned when you didn’t move an inch. You woke up from your trance and shook your head with a smile, “Thank you, but I’ll make it on my own.”

But in reality you wanted nothing more than for him to walk you upstairs. Just so you could be with him for a little longer.

He chuckled at your reply and opened his mouth to say something. But closed it swiftly, almost as if he was afraid to ruin the moment.

“See you tomorrow, princess.”

Princess. The nickname that made your heart flutter, especially when Chad was the one to call you that.

He hesitated at first, but he leaned in closer and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

If your heartbeat wasn’t fast then it definitely was racing now. “See you.” You said while your cheeks heated up. He looked at you with his gorgeous smile and watched as you opened the door and stepped inside, completely flustered by what just had happened.

During your short trip to your dorm, all you could think about was him. It wasn’t any different than usual; you were always thinking about him. But something about that innocent kiss told you that things were different than you thought they were.

With a train of thoughts clouding your mind, you entered your dorm, welcomed by a strange smell. The smile on your face was wiped off immediately.

You called for your roommate, but they didn’t answer.

Confused by the smell filling your nose, you tried to find the source of it. Eventually you realised that the closer you got to your roommate’s room, the worse the smell got.

You opened the door and walked inside. Your roommate was laying on their bed, a blanket put over them.

As you drew closer and closer, your heart began to race. You became extremely nauseous as the smell intensified. Your pupils widen in astonishment as you pull away the blanket.

Your roommates dead body was brutally stabbed. Their blood had stained the mattress entirely red.

You put your hand on your mouth to muffle your cries as you looked at them. You couldn’t believe someone would ever do this to them.

You were about to get your phone from your pocket, planning to call Chad. But you got pushed down forcefully and fell on the ground. Your phone flew out

of your hand and landed not too far away from you.

Your watery eyes blinked a few times, before you saw the mask you would recognise from anywhere. The mask you had grown to hate with your entire being.

You tried to grab for anything that could be useful to attack the ghostface with as they were hovering over you. They had gotten ahold of your legs and pulled you closer to them, the blade of their knife sliding against the skin of your leg.

Your arms went everywhere trying to get ahold of something at least.

You successfully managed to grab a baseball bat which belonged to your roommate and hit the ghostface with it on their head.

“Motherfucker!” You yelled hitting it on their head a few times. You quickly got up when their grip loosened and searched for your phone.

You went to grab it, but just when you picked it up you were pushed again and this time the ghostface stabbed you in the leg, twisting it slowly and painfully.

You yelled out in pain and tried everything in your power to push them away, but it was no use.

They slapped the phone out of your hand and let out a deep evil chuckle.

“How does it feel without your muscled bodyguard to save you?” They spoke, their knife threateningly close to your face.

Their knife made its way to your stomach, and all you could do was watch. You were powerless, completely powerless.

They stabbed you without regrets twisting and turning the knife, causing pain to shoot throughout your entire body.

You thought of Chad.

The Chad who was calling you nonstop.

The sound of your ringtone was on the background as you could slowly feel yourself disappear.

-

Chad was pacing back in forth in his dorm, his body tense and his mind full with questions.

Why didn’t you answer? Did something happen to you?

Ethan tried to calm his roommate down the best he could. He told Chad you probably fell asleep and that you forgot to call.

But Chad knew better. Chad knew you wouldn’t go to sleep without letting him know you were safe and making sure he was. He knew you couldn’t go about your evening without checking in on him.

He knew you.

And you wouldn’t just ignore him out of the blue.

“I’ve got to do something.” He whispered to himself. He took out his phone and started calling you over and over again.

But still no answer.

He sat down next to Ethan on the couch, who was slowly drifting to sleep. “Y/n’s probably fine, Chad. Don’t worry.” He mumbled.

But that didn’t stop Chad from worrying. Not even a little bit.

When he called you again, you finally picked up and he let out a sigh of relief. But when the person on the other end of the line started talking, it wasn’t you.

He got up quickly after what he heard and didn’t even bother to grab a coat on this cold evening. He didn’t bother because something had happened to you.

Something bad.

“Y/n Y/l/n?” Chad questioned the woman at the reception, who was rather moody. She looked him up and down, before pointing towards the hall behind her.

“Room 13.” She replied bluntly, chewing her gum obnoxiously loud.

“Thanks.” He answered politely. His heart was racing out of worry.

He regretted not walking you upstairs. Regretted every decision he made that evening. And most specifically not telling you how he felt.

He had planned it all, the moment he was going to finally open up about his feelings for you. But he was too mesmerised by you, he completely forgot all about admitting to you.

He made his way to your room and his face softened when seeing you in the hospital bed. He walked over to you slowly, his heart breaking into a million pieces by seeing you like this.

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him enter, your head rested on the pillow.

“Chad.” You brought out with difficulty and you tried to shoot him a smile. “Y/n.” He replied walking over to sit down on the chair next to you instantly.

He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, tears threatening to spill. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Y/n.”

“It’s not your fault.” You assured him. “No, but it is. The night wasn’t supposed to go this way, but I chickened out and- I’m sorry.” Chad didn’t dare to look you in your eyes, feeling guilty.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion while you listened to his ramble. You wanted to say something, but your mouth couldn’t form any words.

Chad looked up to look you in the eyes, but this time it felt different. His eyes had something else in them than they usually had.

You still looked him in the eyes while he opened and closed his mouth several times. “I- There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you. And the thing is I thought I had more time. Time to actually think this through and make it a perfect moment- ”

“Y/n, I really thought I’d lost you. It terrified me. And regret washed over me, I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve told you what I actually wanted to tell you.” He said, before taking a deep breath and exhaling.

You squeezed his hand assuring him that he could tell you what had been bothering him so much.

“Y/n, I like you. I have liked you since the moment I have laid eyes on you. Hell, I might even love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me and-“ But before he could finish you had pulled him in for a kiss.

His hands made their way to your cheeks and cupped them gently. Your lips moved in sync together as relief washed over the both of you. The contact between your lips was electric and it’s as if the whole world just stopped. Like it was just the two of you.

You pulled away with the biggest smile on your faces. “I like you too, Chad. A lot actually.” You told him, your eyes never leaving his.

“Well, I’m sure I like you more.” He whispered and you playfully rolled your eyes in response.

[lady-maracas]

My saviour

Pairing: Angel Dust x M!Reader

Word count: 1,3k

Warnings: Swearing, Angel being his normal flirty self (we love him for it).

Masterlist

I’ll be using fluff prompts:

#8, “I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”

#9, “Hold still, this might hurt a little.”

#10, “I just wanted to thank you, for saving me.”

Life itself in Pentagram City was usually out of the ordinary. In other words, sinners did a lot of weird shit, which could make oneself feel uneasy. Today was just like the days before: shitty. You worked from 9 to 5, felt exhausted, went grocery shopping for the weekend and as the cherry on top, being harassed on the street by a random sinner. Lovely!

As you were on your way back to your place, an annoying ringing snapped you out of your thoughts: your cellphone. Slowly, you pulled it out of your back pocket to see who the hell dared to call you now.

Angel<3

Your frown immediately disappeared when you realized it was Angel Dust, one of your best friends, your party buddy. You answered the call:

“Hey!” You joyfully said.

“Ow, ow. Too much joy! What is up with you?” The voice on the other line answered. “I thought you were supposed to work all day?” He added.

“I did! I feel like shit right now!” You kept your joyous tone, “But now that I hear your beautiful voice, my day is actually better!”

“I don’t know what is up with you Toots, but I really want to get drunk tonight. ‘You in?” Angel said.

“You just read my mind! I’ll meet you there at 10!”

“Alright, you better lose some of that cheerfulness before then, you’re starting to sound like Charlie, shit.” He nonchalantly said. You knew that act was making him uncomfortable, you lived to tease him.

“Fuck you! Goodbye!” You hung the line and practically skipped all the way to your place.

Tonight was going to be fun! Right?

///

When you arrived at the club, you immediately realized the place was packed tonight. You almost changed your mind and went back home when you spotted Angel in the crowd, slightly taller and most sinners.

You made your way to him, “Hey, party buddy! Are you ready to have the night of your life?” You extended your arms for a hug, which he returned.

“Absolutely, and I personally think it’d be even better if it ended with you and me in my bed.” He winked playfully, which made you blush, “I’m just kidding, but by the look on your face you wouldn’t be opposed to that!” He laughed while making his way to the bar.

You stood there, a bit shocked, trying to hide the blush that rose on your cheeks due to his comment, and decided to follow him.

“What can we serve you tonight, fellows?” The bartender asked.

Angel and you both looked at each other and said in unison:

“Something strong.”

///

Almost an hour later, or maybe more than that, who knows, you stopped tracking the time after your fourth drink, you still stood at the bar with Angel. You were telling him a story that happened earlier at work.

“-And then the lady left and I said ‘don’t let the door hit you on the way out’ and guess what happened! It actually did! She opened it the wrong way and crashed into it!” You wheezed at your own story, almost spilling your drink.

Angel’s reaction matched yours, he leaned across the bar while he held his stomach with one hand, trying to keep breathing but failing miserably.

“Damn,” He wiped the tears from his eyes due to laughter. “I gotta tell you Toots, I haven’t laughed like this in a long time!”

You knew Angel was going through tough times, mostly because of his deal with Valentino. Knowing you made his day better and seeing him genuinely laugh made your heart flutter.

“Fuck yeah! I laughed so hard then, the lady became red with anger! She must’ve been ashamed!” You added.

Then, your stomach started revolting itself and made you stop dead in your tracks. “I need some fresh air.”

You pushed your way through the crowd, trying your best to not hurt anyone on your way out. As soon as the outside air hit you, your stomach basically thanked you and settled down.

You walked a bit, making sure you were feeling better, before you saw an ugly sinner make his way up to you. ‘Ugh, no!’.

“What’s a lovely thing like you doing outside all alone?” He stood close to you, making you insanely uncomfortable.

“Okay firstly, I’m a dude, second, I’m not alone.” There it is, your stomach felt sick again, and you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“It’s alright sugar, I’m into those things.” He tried to hold you but you pushed him away.

“Leave me alone, I don’t have the time for this.” You leaned over, getting ready if your stomach decided to finally get rid of the poison you’ve been drinking.

“Listen you little cunt.” He grabbed the collar of your shirt. You could feel his disgusting breath on your face. “You gonna get on your knees and do what I ask of you, understand?”

“Fuck no!” You resisted, there was no way this was happening to you.

That’s when you felt it. The sharp pain on your side, just below your ribs. You suddenly felt hot, burning hot.

‘The fucker stabbed me?’

Then, the sinner was lifted off the ground by something, someone taller than him.

Angel.

“That was a very bad choice, shortie. I suggest you leave this gentleman alone and fuck off!” Angel practically screamed at the sinner, trying his best to not murder him.

All the while this happened, your vision started to get blurry, and your ears ringed. And then,

Nothing.

//

You woke up from your slumber, totally disoriented. As you looked around the room you were in, you could see the old tapestry that covered the walls. Old wooden furniture, a light that dimly lit the run down room.

As you put all the pieces together, the door opened slowly, making a creaking sound that made shivers run up your spine. ‘Did I fucking get kidnapped?’

“Heya sleeping beauty, did you sleep well?” ‘Oh thank heavens’, it’s Angel. That means we’re in-

“No, nuh uh,” you tried to get up from the bed you took your little rest in. “No way you took me to your tacky Hotel Angel, I’m getting out.”

He put a hand on your chest, keeping you from getting any further. “Sit the fuck back down,” He pushed me back on the bed. “First, this isn’t my Hotel, and second, this is where I live now, whether you like it or not.”

You whined a bit, part of it because he was right, and the other part was because your side hurt like, a lot.

“We better get you stitched up, before it gets infected.” He settled down a first aid kit on the side table and pulled out of it a needle and some thread. “You’re gonna have to pull your shirt up, Toots.” He looked at you up and down.

You shook your head no. There was no way he was stitching your skin back together, ew!

“Don’t be a baby, I have done things multiple times, I know what I’m doing! ‘Cmon.”

You slowly lifted your shirt, making sure you didn’t touch your wound in the process. You tried to not look at it, but curiosity took the best of you. That was fucking disgusting.

“Hold still, this might hurt a little.” With that, Angel began his work, closing your wound stitch by stitch. You bit your lip, hiding the fact that it hurt like a bitch. When the work was done, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“There you go! As good as new!” He closed the first aid kit and gave you a smile. “You can stay here for the night, while you get some rest.”

“Thank you, Angel.” You sighed, the entirety of the night finally pushing down on you. “I just want to thank you, for saving me.” You smiled up at him.

“Don’t mention it! And hey, I told you the night would end up with you in my bed!” He playfully smirked and left the room.

‘Oh this is the start of something good.’

\\\

Heya readers! This is my first HH one shot and the first one I’ve written in a while. I know I’m a bit rusty but bear with me! Thank you for reading and if you have any requests, feel free to ask me!

Seeya!

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 16 (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is very much a Steddie chapter and I love it so much. This is probably going to be one of if not my favorite chapter in this series. I wanted them to really fully embrace that lovers aspect of their relationship and totally be ok loving each other as much as they love the reader.

Warnings: Parent Dads Steddie and Mama Reader, mentions of trying and struggling to get pregnant, SMUT (between the boys <3), lots of fluff, Steve VERY BRIEFLY mentions fears of telling his family they are trying to have another kid. I think that's it. Genuinely just a lot of sweetness in this one.

Word Count: 3116

“Fuck me…”, Steve pants as he throws his arm over his eyes. 

“I just did.”, you giggle as you roll over to face him. 

You and Steve had been spending a lot more time alone in the pursuit of baby number three. Of course, Eddie was still very much involved in sexy time but he insisted if there was a point where he could take the kids out of the house, you three should take the opportunity. 

It had been a few months and still no positive test. The doctor insisted you both were healthy and fine, you just “need to keep trying.” The metalhead did everything he could to help. 

“Eddie, baby, why are you smoking so far away? You can sit next to me on the porch here.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I read online that smoke can affect you when you’re trying to get pregnant.”

“You were smoking around me constantly before and we still got Ro.”, you laugh.

“Baby, I can do the dishes. You’ve been at work all day.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. You and Steve just relax, ok? I got this. Wayne said stress sometimes can make it harder for you two to…you know…”

“Hey, princess! I went grocery shopping today so you don’t have to on Friday after work. I also got some more fruit. I read this book at work that was saying it helps with trying to have a baby.”

Steve grins as he turns to face you as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…I don’t know.”

“Honey, it’s ok. It will happen when it happens.”

“I just feel bad. I feel like Eddie is stressing himself out taking care of us.”

“He has been going a little overboard.”, he chuckles. “Oh, I know that look. Dylan makes that face when he’s planning something. What do you have in mind, baby?”

***

“Mom, this place is amazing.”, Dylan’s jaw drops as he looks around the house the realtor brought you guys to. 

It was a rustic style home that definitely had that country feel. The entryway lead into the kitchen on the right and gigantic living room straight ahead with a gorgeous stone fireplace. The back door was mostly clear glass so you would be able to see outside when the kids were playing. 

“It’s beautiful. It’s not too far from Wayne either and it’s right next to the lake.”, Eddie grins, running his fingers along the countertop in the kitchen. 

“It’s also within your budget and has those five rooms you had originally mentioned, ma’am.”, the man showing you the house guides you around, pointing out the two bedrooms downstairs and the backyard that is much bigger than your current one. 

Steve pats Aurora’s back as she continues to sleep, drooling on the shoulder of his jacket.

“Do you mind if we talk for a minute?”

“No, ma’am. Take all the time you need.”

The four of you lean against the counters in the kitchen as you wait for him to leave. “What do you think, kid?”, Eddie asks.

“I like it a lot especially since it’s by the water.”

“It’s closer to my store but it’s a bit of a drive for the three of you every morning.”

You chew on your nail as you think. “Just an extra 10minutes which isn’t too bad. What do you think, Stevie?”

“I’m fine with the drive. We may need to update some things though like childproofing the locks and stuff. Other than that, I think it’s perfect.”

“Alright, gentlemen. Let’s fill out some applications and pray.”

##############

“Hang on, Ed.” Steve reaches over and grabs Eddie’s arm as he begins to get out of the car. “You guys have fun! “

“Bye dada an daddy.”, Aurora waves.

They wave back with a smile, waiting for you three to get inside before the man drives away. 

“What’s going on?”, the metalhead asks. 

“Y/N and I thought you needed some time away from the kids and the house so we’re going on a date.”

“Did Y/N not want to come? She should have a night out to.”

“Eddie!”, Steve chuckles. “She’s fine, trust me. Let me show you what a date night with Steve Harrington is like.”

“Oh, someone’s cocky. Alright, Harrington. Wine and dine me.”, he grins. 

***

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, can you just…hold my hand. I’m so nervous.” Dylan smiles as he sits on the floor beside you and takes your hand in his. “This anticipation is killing me. With you and Ro it was just like ‘Hey, there’s a baby in there.’ I’ve never really had to utilize a pregnancy test like this.”

“With Aurora, you thought you were sick. Did you think the same thing before you found out about me?”

“Naw, with you, I was doing a routine exam and they had to make sure I wasn’t pregnant.”

The timer on your phone beeps and you sigh before reaching onto the bedside table where the test had been sitting. As you read the results, uncontrollable tears begin cascading down your face while Dylan wraps his arms around your neck.

***

“That band was fucking awesome!”, Eddie exclaims as the other man grins at his excitement. 

Steve decided to take the metalhead to new bar just outside of the city limits. He knew how much he loved music, thinking it would make him happy to see some bands play while they drank and talked. 

“It’s been a while since you guys have been on a stage like that. Do you miss it?”

The man shakes his head as he takes a swing of the beer from his glass. “I mean I still play with the guys but that rush that I used to get being on stage…no it’ll sound stupid.”

“No, come on. Tell me.”

“That rush I used to get…I get now with the kids. Dude, seeing Dylan on his first date and watching Ro learn do those vocabulary card things you got her… that makes me happy. I can’t wait to see what this new baby will be like.” Eddie notices Steve’s posture stiffen and he promptly reaches out to rub his shoulder. “Hey, it’ll happen, man.”

“I know. I hate seeing that sad look on her face with every period or failed test.”

“The doctor said everything was good though, right?”

“Yeah, just have to keep trying.”, he sighs before glancing towards Eddie. “I haven’t told my mom yet that Y/N and I are…you know. I’m afraid she’ll tell my dad and I have no idea what he’ll do.”

“Steve, babe, fuck your dad. He can try whatever he wants but he’s not breaking up our family.”

The man exhales a cute, breathy chuckle. “Did you just call me babe?”

The metalhead grins even wider as he leans closer to him. “Depends. Did you like it?”

#######

 The bathroom door to the men’s room hurtles open as Steve pushes Eddie through it with his lips on his and quickly locks it behind him. The metalhead groans, shoving his back against it and begins fumbling with the other boy’s belt before lowering himself to his knees. 

“Fuck.”, Steve mewls as the man below him takes his already leaking cock into his mouth. Eddie knows exactly how his husband likes it, you showed him well, and he revels in the sounds he pulls from him as he takes him deeper till he’s gagging around him. 

It’s not just the action itself but his small, tender touches that have Steve moaning. While Eddie bobs his head, his hands roam the other man’s body, tracing the back of his thighs, up to his stomach. Steve can’t help but wonder how he would react if he spoke to Eddie the same way he talked to you. 

“That’s it, Eddie, baby, fuck. Just like that.” His eyes fluttered closed as he tangled his fingers into his hair, guiding him as the metalhead’s rhythm picked up. Steve couldn’t hold out any longer, he needed him now. 

He tugged on the boy’s hair and he took the hint, rising to his feet and hooking his lips to Steve’s sweet spot on his neck. Growling with desire, he lifted Eddie into his arms and placed him on the counter, aggressively yanking off his jeans. Pulling him to the edge, he lifted his leg over his shoulder and guided his cock into the man’s entrance. 

Eddie’s eyes rolled as Steve slid his hand along his stomach, slowly thrusting his hips as he relished the feeling of the man he loved.

Did he tell him that enough? I’m sure if he asked, Eddie would tell him he’s being silly and of course he does. They had gotten much closer these past few years and became more comfortable sexually but there was a level of intimacy Steve felt they still struggled with. 

“Eddie?” The man responded with a hm as he bit his lip to keep from moaning too loud. “I love you.”

He heard the change in Steve’s tone, promptly opening his eyes to scan him over. Propping himself up on one of his elbows, he reached over to caress his cheek as his thumb glided along his skin. 

“I love you to.”

“No, No. I love you.” 

Eddie blinked a few times before wrapping his hand around the man’s neck and pulling him down till he was hovering over him.

“I love you to. So fucking much, sweetheart. I-I grew up feeling like no one—mmm—no one ever really cared about me. Then I met you and Y/N.” He craned his neck to capture the man’s lips. “Steve, you can talk to me like you talk to her. I like it.”

“Yeah? So, you would like hearing—fuck—hearing me say things about how good you fucking feel, baby, squeezing my cock?”

“Jesus.” Eddie laid back flat against the counter as his hand reached down to stroke his own dick. 

“That’s it, Eddie. Play with yourself while I fuck you. God, you look so fucking sexy right now.”

“Ha-harder, Steve. Please.”, he moans. 

“Is that what you need, honey? I can do that.”

As he rolled his hips into his roughly, the metalhead covered his mouth with his palm, suffocating the urge to scream at the pleasure that ran through his body. His back arched as his abs tensed as rope after rope of spend hit the skin on his stomach. 

“Fuck me.”, Steve groaned as he pounded into the man faster chasing his high. After a few more rough thrusts, Eddie felt him cum inside of him, look up to watch his eyebrows scrunch together and his neck muscles tighten as he did. 

Gradually, he pulled his softening cock out of him and reached over to grab some napkins to help clean Eddie up.

“I’m sorry if these are rough. They aren’t like our towels at home.”, Steve sighs as he tosses the paper in the trash. As he begins pulling up his pants, Eddie abruptly tackles him into a hug, squeezing tightly as he lays his cheek on his chest. “Is everything ok?”

The metalhead nods. “Y/N does this to us after and now I kind of see why. I feel…closer to you if that’s even fucking possible.”

Steve softly laughs as he wraps his own arms around him, pressing him tighter to his chest with his palm. “Yeah, baby. I know what you mean.”

***

As they walk into the front door of the house, they are surprised to find it completely silent. Steve quietly searches the downstairs, turning off lights while Eddie locks everything down. 

When the enter their bedroom, they grin finding everyone asleep in your bed. Dylan was on his side with you behind him, arm draped over him and Aurora who was snuggled up in her brother’s chest as she sucked her thumb. 

Both men quickly changed out of their cigarette, bar smelling clothes and crawled into bed; Steve behind you and Eddie behind his daughter. 

***

“Daddy.”, Ro coos as she lightly taps her father’s face with her palm. “Daddy. Wake up.”

“Ro. Aurora.”, you whispered as you tapped her side. “Leave daddy alone and let him sleep, sweetie.”

“Mama, no. Daddy wake up.”

Dylan groaned in his sleep as he rolled over to face you. 

“Why? Why do you need daddy to wake up?”

She giggles as she falls to her knees and pushes at his arm. “Daddy, I miss you.”

“Well, that’s adorable.”, Steve sighs.

“Dada help Rara.”

“What do you need help with honey? Waking up daddy?” He lazily lifts his arm towards Eddie, trying to reach him with his hand. “Op, he’s too far. I can’t.”

“Dada!”, she growls and you feel the man smile in your shoulder. Aurora begins pushing at him again until he rolls onto his back and playfully pushes her aside with his hand. 

“I think I chose the wrong side to sleep on.”, he grumbles. 

“Hun-gee.”, she points to her stomach. 

“Aurora Munson- Harrington, you did not just wake him up for that!”, you giggle as she beams at you. 

“Whoosh!”, she exclaims as she pretends to throw something in the air. 

“She wants dad’s pancakes.”, Dylan yawns as he stretches. “Which actually sounds good.”

“Can you take her downstairs and put on a cartoon for her, weirdo? Give them some time to wake up.”

Your son nods as he slides off the bed, coming around to pick up his sister and bring her downstairs. Both men immediately scoot closer to you, pulling you into their embrace. 

“Did you two have fun last night?”

“Mhmm. He took me on a ‘Steve Harrington style date’.”

“Oh, you lucky man.”

“Did you three do anything exciting last night?”, Steve asked. 

“We did. Watched a few movies and ordered a pizza. I did go to the store real quick and bought you guys something. Eddie, baby, can you look into your nightstand and grab the thing on top for me?”

He sleepily nodded as he shifted his body to grab what you were asking for. His eyes suddenly snapped open as he realized what he was holding. 

“Harrington. STEVE!”, Eddie shouted startling the other man as he sat up making you laugh harder. The metalhead handed him the pregnancy test and he promptly sat up straighter. 

“Is this…? Are we…? Is this real? You’re really pregnant?”

Your grin grows as you nod. Steve tackles his arms around you, kissing every part of your face his lips can reach. As soon as you’re free, Eddie does the same much more gently. 

“Oh my god. I’m so happy.” Steve lays back down with a big smile on his face as he exhales. 

“You see what I mean, babe? Same kind of rush but better.”, the metalhead grins as he winks at the other man whose own smile grows. 

“Oh wow.” Both men look at you with confused looks as you smirk. “Ok, I don’t know what you two did last night but that energy is back.”

“Are you drunk? You shouldn’t be drinking if you’re pregnant.”

You giggle as you slap Eddie’s shoulder. “No, no, no. Nothing wrong with it. I kind of missed that…electricity…between the two of you. Maybe you both need a date night more often.”

After kissing them both again, you climb out of bed and head for the bedroom door, pausing as you turn to face them. 

“I hope you know you both can be intimate without me. I genuinely don’t mind. I know you both love me just as much as you love each other.” You flash them one final smile before going down the stairs. 

“We don’t deserve her.”, Steve sighs pleasantly as he watches you leave. 

“Yeah, we do. Charlie didn’t deserve her. Fucking idiot.” Eddie lays back down, scooting closer to the other boy. “I still think about the first time I talked to her on the stairs outside of the apartment. He was making her feel bad about him not coming to see Dylan. When I opened the door to sit outside and smoke, I just wanted to protect her. I wanted to drive to wherever he was and kick his ass.”

Steve slid a little closer to him till the back of his hand was barely touching his. 

“I always think about that night at The Hideout when we surprised her while she was on her date and you played that one AC/DC song for her. When she ran out of that bar…I can’t tell you how happy it made me especially after being away from her for so long. She fucking flew into our arms and I never wanted to let her go.”

“We kind of didn’t.”, he chuckled. 

Their fingers intertwined as they turned to smile at each other. Eddie leaned over and brought his lips to his, both men laughing as they pulled away when they heard loud noises downstairs.

“Hey! Are you trying to make everyone lose their hearing?! Turn the tv down!”, Steve hollered over dramatically as they both entered the area. 

“Told you.”, you sang from the sink as you washed some dishes you knew the metalhead would need.

Eddie wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you to his chest as he leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Taking more than her share, had me fighting for air She told me to come, but I was already there 'Cause the walls start shaking, the Earth was quaking My mind was aching and we were making it

And you shook me all night long Yeah, you shook me all night long.”

You grinned at the memory as he sang softly in your ear. Steve turned off the water before circling his arms around you both, kissing the top of your head. The sound of tiny feet slapping into the kitchen had you laughing in his chest. 

“Daddy! Rara and Din hun-gee!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah ya little butt. Come here.” She giggled as she ran into his arms and he lifted her onto the counter. “You’re going to help me?” Aurora nodded her little head as she waited for instructions. 

Steve lifted you into his arms and carried you to the living room, placing you gently on the sofa. 

“Did you tell them?”

“I did. They’re pretty excited.”

“I am to.”, Dylan smiled. “Did you guys want to play a game while we wait for breakfast? Especially since now she’s distracted.”

“I’m not really good with games.”

“Uh huh. Making excuses already, Steve Harrington. That’s ok. Dylan and I already know you suck.”

He jokingly scowls in your direction as your son hands you both a controller. 

“What are we playing?”

#############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @strangerfreak

@steddieloverrr @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

[hearts401]

Jailbreak au basicallyyy

(Spare me I don’t know how the legal system works LMAO)

Evan survived the bite Liz never got got

When he was 16, the murders happened. In an effort to cover them up beforehand, William taught Michael to use the springlock suit and hired him to play as Springbonnie occasionally. When the kids went missing, William slipped some hints that it could have something to do with the springlock suit, and then Cassidy happened

Cassidy only ALMOST died, and she was attacked by a man in a springlock suit. All she knows is his eye color and that he had a mole under his left eye

Which goes for both William and Michael

And as they went on, people pulled from The bite as evidence, Michaels outbursts, and his personal grudge against Cassidy. The bite wasn’t half as bad as canon btw! It happened but it didn’t hurt Evan as badly because he managed to wiggle out a bit and it caught his arm too instead of just his head so the damage was mitigated. Because of this, Michael wasn’t wracked with guilt because he knew Evan wouldn’t die. He still felt really, REALLY bad but that’s important to keep in mind.

His anger issues, his sneaky demeanor, everything came together to haunt him and he ended up getting put in prison

Henry, Cassidy, and Evan all testified against him, although Evan was still hesitant. He didn’t want Michael to get arrested, but everything he said only proved Williams point further

Elizabeth and Charlie, however, defended him and ended up getting proof nearly a decade later that it wasn’t him when more kids went missing

People assumed those deaths were unrelated but the use of the springlock suit and the pizzeria were enough plus Charlie pointing out a severe lack of genuine evidence against Michael and they let him go.

But he is PISSED

(Also by now William has begrudgingly let many people use the suit to draw attention away from himself)

Charlie also got attacked ed and lived like Cassidy, but it was from behind and she doesn’t remember much anyways. Because of this Henry was incredibly angry with Michael and their relationship got fucked to hell and back

Despite Henry trying to make amends with Michael, he wanted nothing to do with him OR Evan.

But Michaels issue is he can’t. Kill his dad. Because they’ll know it was him and he’s not risking his siblings getting arrested or anything

So his goal now is just to get William caught

Thanks for coming to me tedtalk live laugh love Michael Afton

[cookstorys]

Moonlight

Character: Felix

Show : Love, Victor

Warning : Its supposed to be cute but sorry if it came out cringy 😭

—————————————————————————————————————

The moon shined above as you walked Felix back to his apartment building. You both decided to take the rather long way since you didn’t mind each other’s presence. “So you and Victor? You guys have been getting pretty close lately.” You nudged. “Yeah, we have but we don’t see each other like that. At least I don’t think?” He questions. You laughed at his utter stupidity. “Felix I’m just kidding. If Victor liked you I’m sure he would’ve kissed you on the faris wheel by now.” Felix laughed at the obvious tease. “Stop asshole, that’s my friend you’re talking about. So what if the whole thing was kinda rom-com-ish” He playfully hits your arm smiling. As if on queue, silence fell between the two of you again.

As you walk the sidewalk you notice the slight shiver Felix tried to ignore. “You cold?” You asked the fluffy-haired boy. “Yeah, I’m fine just a tad bit chilled.” He smiled shaking a little. “Felix, here. You’re gonna freeze out here love.” You commented, quickly taking off your jacket to put it on him. The jacket fitted him loosely and oversized but neither of you mind, you found him fairly adorable in bigger clothes, specifically yours. Felix was too stunned to even react, ‘love’. Words like that were commonly used by you regularly. ‘Babes, you’re embarrassing yourself.’ , ‘no love.’ Felix had gotten pretty comfortable with the words of affection but this time it felt different. This time his heart jumped out of his chest, his palms were starting to sweat, and he couldn’t control the urge to hold back his toothy smile.

“Thank you [Name].” Felix smiled, praying that the oversized fabric covered most of his blushing face. The attempt was cute but you could still see the heat starting to spread across his cheeks. However, you chose to ignore it for his sake. “So, how’s your mom?” You were questioning if you should ask or not but chose to ask. “She’s good, she decided to take her depression more seriously and just checked into a hospital. So, I should get to see her in about a month or two, depending on her progress.” You were beyond happy with the news. You and Felix were childhood best friends, you knew Felix’s mom way before the depression, even before his father’s death. So to hear that his mother was finally getting the help she not only needed but deserved was amazing. “Felix that’s fucking amazing.” Felix nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

10 minutes later you found yourselves in front of Felix’s apartment building, grinning awkwardly at each other. “I hope you had fun tonight, I had to fight a very aggressive old man for those tickets.” Felix laughed, genuinely intrigued about the situation. “I did! I’m happy all your hard work wasn’t in vain.”

“Well, I’m happy you had fun.” You smiled. This was always the awkward part, the departure. “Well, I guess I should get inside now. Here’s your coat.” Felix was in the process of taking his coat off but you chose to stop him. “Keep it, you look cuter in it than me.” Felix blushed at the statement. The moon’s light illuminated your eyes, making most of your small features stand out. For example, your lips. He really couldn’t stop looking at your lips and how amazing it’ll be to kiss them. Meanwhile, you were having the same thought. Felix looked stunning in the light, his eyes met yours and you could tell both of you were sharing the same thought.

Your hand found its way to the side of his face pulling him closer until your lips finna let his. They move perfectly together as if they were made for this. As the kiss deepened, you pulled away. “You’re a really good kisser.” Felix smiled still hypnotized by the taste of your lips on his. “You’re the one to talk.” You both laughed. Felix pulled out his keys and rushed up the outdoor steps as you watched. “You coming in or what?” He giggled to which you quickly caught on and ran after him

[cahrlotah]

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞

The ending is kinda rushed ngl but I just wanted to post it anyway. No prove reading. I'm so sorry this is all over the place.

This is also dedicated to @eddiesdungeon as she helped me come up with this idea, love u girl <3

IF YOU ARE A MINOR DNI! This is +18 content

Trigger warnings: bad/shitty angst, dry humping, fucking on the d&d table, fucking on his throne, vaginal penetration, hair pulling, fingering, nicknames, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it kiddos), he cums inside but reader is on the pill 

word count: 1.7K

It all started as a casual flirting between the town's freak and the head cheerleader. It hurt, Eddie being the only boy I always wanted, but I couldn’t do anything, he has already chosen who he likes.

We are all sitting in the cafeteria, discussing the plans for this afternoon, the first meeting of Hellfire after winter break. We are all super excited as Eddie has been telling us something exciting is coming.

“By the way guys” he starts, I cough “ and m’lady.” I smile at him. “ Chrissy is joining us tonight”. He says, all the boys look at each other, while my smile fades away. 

“Oh and how did you get her to come?” Dustin tries to, but fails, to make the situation a little less awkward. Then they start a conversation about how she wants to see how we all play and how it works. I start to  feel my stomach tighten, as if someone was literally squishing it.

“ Guys I'm going to go, I don't feel so good. See you all at five!” I say, getting up and leaving the cafeteria chaos. All the hours after that I spent them ignoring the Hellfire boys, especially Eddie, which was difficult as we were in the same classes. The last bell rings, students leaving fast to their homes, others going to band practice or to their club meetings. The case is that in less than ten minutes the halls are deserted, the echoing of Eddies and Chrissy steps resonating through the halls. 

“Dustin! I don’t think I can do it” I whisper and he looks at me. “ I would rather make out with Jason Carver than to see them together. I really can’t”

“ I know it is tough but I really need you to come, the rest of the boys need you to come. If Eddie doesn’t realize what he is loosing, fuck him!” We both laugh, the other boys join in, I look around and I make eye contact with the infamous metalhead. 

“Let’s start this quest, shall we?” he opens the door with that dramatism that really characterizes ​​Eddie. We all take our respective seats Eddie and I on each end, next to me on my right Dustin and Mike, next to him Gareth and Chrissy , between Mike and Gareth, Mason and in between Dustin and Chrissy, Jake. Before we start playing Eddie explains some basics to Chrissy. We all switch to game mode, and Eddie starts narrating. Intense stares between him and I as “Vecna” has taken an interest in my character.

“I say we play until death” I say looking at the boys around me. “Until death!” they all scream. The afternoon hours pass, Chrissy has already left because she had to go to cheer practice. As the boys slowly leave, Eddie asks me to stay behind, he says something about the quest, I nod .

Dustin and Mike are the last ones to leave, the metal door shutting behind them, leaving Eddie and I alone. 

“Is this about the-” i start 

“What’s wrong with you (Y/N)?” he questions “since lunch time you have been ignoring me, and I don’t know what I did for you to act this way towards me. Is it because of Chrissy?” he seems genuinely hurt.

“Eddie I don’t think it’s time for us to talk about this” I say walking away.

“ There is nothing wrong with not being the only girl-” I stop and turn around, my face filled with anger

“Are you fucking kidding me Munson?!” I walk angrily towards him, he backs up.

“Then tell me what it is? I don’t read minds (Y/N)” he says.

“I’m not in the mood for this tonight, and I’m sure you have to go pick Chrissy up from practice, do whatever you guys do” I sit on a chair, trying to calm myself.

“What are you ever talking ab-” he stops, realizing something. “ Do you think Chrissy and I are something?”he starts to laugh. Thi pisses me off even more so I get up to leave “ Hey hey don’t go okay” he grabs my wrist

“It is not fucking funny shithead” I punch his chest. “ Do you know how  hard it has been seeing you flirt with her? I literally wanted to disappear. And then you act all clueless plus calling me all those nicknames you call me, how am i supposed not to fall for you?” tears falling down my cheeks. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking at me, not knowing what to do, not reacting, nothing. “Alright got it” I can’t even make four steps when he speaks.

“ Nothing happened between Chrissy and I, she just bought some weed from me and just clicked, but as friends. She has been secretly dating Jason Carver. She is the one to buy weed for the basketball team and we just became close that’s all. I fucking promise!” his hands wiping the tears from my face as.

“ Eddie, if this is some kind of joke it is not funny. I have seen how you look at her”

“(Y/N), how can you say this?” he is hurt, i can see it on his face. “ The only person I could look at this afternoon was you, I didn’t even notice when Chrissy left because I was too focused looking at how pretty the light was hitting on yours face, I was focused on how cute you look every time you are focused, so don’t come to me with all that bullshit because it is just not tru-'' I cut him off by pressing our lips together. His hands cupped my face. “You don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” His lips attack mine but this time feels different, more lustful, his hands traveling all the way to my hips pressing them to his. I let out a small moan as we kiss as I can feel something hard between his legs.

“Fuck (Y/N), if you do that one more time I don’t think I will be responsible for what happens next” he says with a grin on his face. I smile while jumping on him, wrapping my legs around his waist, his hands rapidly grabbing my ass.

“ You can do anything to me Eddie Munson” I whisper into his ear, slowly biting his lobe. He groans, sitting on his throne with me still wrapped around his waist. Now the bulge on his pants can’t be hidden.  I start to slowly move my hips back and forward. 

“You are going to be the death of me sweetheart” he throws all his papers from the table, so he can lay me down. He takes off my t-shirt and his, his tattoos looking hotter than ever. Our stares connect again, it feels like no one else in this world exists except him and I.  His hands go to his belt undoing it, he throws it away and his pants fall to his ankles. I try to help it but my eyes go between his legs, I quickly move my head to the side, my face heating up, too embarrassed to even look at him.  His left hand moves my face, “So cute” then he leans towards me, my back on the table and the boy of my dreams on top of me, kissing me. His mouth moves and lands on my neck, the contrast of his warm lips against my cold neck makes me let out a small quiet moan that only he can hear. His hands make their way to my pants, slowly unbutton it and takes them off. Now all of my body is exposed to him, it feels weird but he makes me feel safe so the nervousness goes away in no second. He observes every small detail of my body from above me, then he stops where my panties start. “ I think we should get rid of this underwear, don’t you think sunshine?” his voice has lowered a few tones and the only thing my body is able to do is to nod. While he pulls my panties down, I do the tricky part which is the bra, in a couple of movements it’s out. I don’t know how he has done it but his underwear is also. 

His fingers play along my thigh, going upwards, he is kissing me all over my torso while his fingers tease to enter me. When he finally does, I let out a gasp as the cold metal from his rings make contact with my sensitive area. He starts moving them, slowly increasing the pace while his mouth is on my tits biting, leaving hickies all over them. The room is absolutely quiet, only my moans can be heard. At this point I don’t mind anyone coming in, seeing me looking like a mess for Eddie. He slowly pulls his fingers out of me, putting them in his mouth. Something in that makes him look like a greek god fallen from Olympus just for me.

He turns me around, one of his hands on my waist, his thumb pressing harder letting me know that I have to bend over, he enters me slowly his free hand on one of my ass cheeks grabbing it hard, that is going to leave a mark , a loud moan comes out me and even louder ones follows and he intensifies his hip thrusts. 

The hand that is on my waist is now on my hair pulling my head back.

“So fucking perfect sweetheart.”he says. He stops and pulls out. “ Come here” he demands as he sits on his throne. I slowly make my way towards him, his hands patting his lap, I sit in a way he can put his dick into me again, we both moan his hands guiding the movements my hips make, he is in control and he knows it. He increases the speed both of our hips go.

“Fuck Eddie I think I’m going to come” but he doesn’t stop, he just keeps rocking his hips to mine as hard as he can. We both finish at the same time.

“This is your throne now, princess,”he smiles as we cuddle together for a few minutes.

[needfantasticstories]

Wind, Water, and Four 

(DAY 25: Waterboarding)

Summary:

In Four's era, Wind meets Jago's gang.

Notes:

HUGE thanks to @somerknights and @estelian-01 and @hotcheetohatredwastaken for BETA reading.

Wind wasn’t often afraid of water. He loved the high seas with its open horizon and kaleidoscope of blues and greens. Not much felt so refreshing as a kiss of saltwater spraying on his face during a hard day of sailing.

But right now, he looked at the simple bucket of water beside him with genuine fear. A towel dangled in the hands of a strange man who stood over Wind. He was tall with short facial hair over his lip and chin, and an obnoxious smirk. Judging by the crooked smile, he was probably just as cocky as Warrior, but certainly not as friendly as the Captain. The man’s grang of rouges sitting on crates around the room muttered in excitement.

“It’s a simple question, kid. You tell me where Link left that sword, and we’ll have no issue. But if you want to make it interesting, I don’t mind playing a few games before you talk.” The gang of low-lifes around him laughed. 

Wind glowered and tried not to let it show how he struggled in his restraints, feeling for the knots that pinned his arms to the short end of the wooden bench.  

“No? You want to play the game? Fine. Let’s get started!” The man threw the towel over Wind’s face. Wind quickly drew in a breath and held it. 

Starting from the top of his head and creeping down came the pressure of water saturating the towel. It trickled down over his nose, then too quickly over his mouth and chin, sealing the dense fabric against his skin. There was no way for air to get through it now, except the tiniest waterlogged straw-suck of air if he was lucky enough for the towel to be old and worn. It did not feel worn. He tried not to think too much about it and held still. He could stay calm. His previous record for holding his breath was two minutes, and his shortest escape was 30 seconds, after all. Nevermind the longer ones, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that.

He picked at the knots, first the left hand, as pressure built in his chest. A drip slid from the rag into his nostril, and he tried not to panic. Hold hold hold . He thought and his nimble fingers worked into the coarse rope. 

One almost free! His face felt hot with pressure. His lungs burned. His heart raced. 

A punch to his gut ruined everything.

He gasped, but only sucked fabric and water in, and he choked as water tickled down his airway. He tried to breathe in again, and coughed out, but nothing came back in except more water. His mind felt washed in white. He arched his back as his legs thrashed and his arms jerked but he couldn't get a single breath, only more and more water dripping and sucked in from his desperate attempts. His neck ached from straining his arms and shoulders, his throat hurt, and his face burned. He’d lost track of which way was up and down, mind spinning even in his blindness. 

His thrashing grew weaker and weaker. 

The rag lifted, and he gulped in the precious air, a spray of water sent into his lungs along with it. His chest heaved like a boat in a storm, up and down. He watched it himself, aching and relieved and afraid.  

“Wasn’t that fun?” The man leered down at him. “Want to play again, or will you tell me where he keeps the blade?”

“What blade?!” Wind gasped. Right hand right hand right hand . The dim wood-paneled room looked fuzzy, all the light glittering too brightly from the water still coating his eyelashes. “Which Link? There are tons of people named Link!”

“What? Kid, there’s only one in this town, and everyone knows him. That bratty son of the Captain, he’s such a show-off it’s hard to miss. And you know that, I bet. You’re traveling with him. I bet he’s pissed you off a few times, eh? Why not give him a little taste of his own medicine? We don’t even want him . Just a sword he took from some shrine in the middle of nowhere. we just want to put it back. We’re like those, uh, what do they call them?”

“Archeologists,” a man in a red bandana supplied. 

“That’s it! Archeologists. That’s us, you see? Interested in ancient things. He’s stolen an old thing, and we just want to put it back. So what is it? Keep playing our game, or will you tell us?”

The man was like Warrior in more ways than one. He had this gang under his thumb, and didn’t take disrespect. “You can take that glass bottle over there and shove i–”

Down came the cloth, but Wind timed his last breath well. He’d be able to focus for a few seconds. He worked his fingers just right when a kick to his stomach threw his fragile plan off track, once again. He gasped, and floundered on the wood bench.

They let him get another taste of fresh air for a brief moment. Right hand right hand right hand . He wished he was as ambidextrous as Twilight. He hooked one finger in the knot and pushed in, wiggling and worming to loosen the knot. 

But all too quickly, his limbs flopped as the white fog clouded his mind again. He felt a strange, almost happy weightlessness. Then the rag was gone, and he gagged on a mouthful of water, spitting it out violently. 

A grumble at his side. He coughed and looked up. His captor was glaring, water all over his cheap cravat and grimey vest. 

A woman nearby laughed. “Oh, Jago doesn’t take being disrespected, lad!” 

Wind gave an exhausted smile of his own, and looked to the man's hip for a promising flash of silver, and he found it.  

Wind lunged. One fist closed over the handle of Jago’s knife, the other he fist swung into the man’s belly. Jago’s smirk shattered as he doubled over. 

Wind sliced the ropes at his feet, grateful the blade proved sharp, cutting them free in only a few slices. 

The ragtag criminals shouted and lunged first for their leader, and then for him, but it was too late. He’d already rolled off the bench and under their feet. 

The door was barred, but he hauled up the crossbeam and shoved it back into the crowd closing in behind him. Those in front fell back under its weight, forcing those behind to dodge around the fallen. Wind ducked under a grasping hand and hurled the door open. Narrowly avoiding the tackle of two scraggly criminals, he danced between the thin groups in the evening crowd, heading for the widest and most crowded roads he could find.

They chased him, shrieks and angry shouts bursting behind him, until at last he skidded into the crowded market. Lamps reflected in a beautiful fountain that he had too little time to appreciate. There were covered stalls everywhere. He ran into an alley near one, then turned and slid under the table of a silk merchant. Footsteps followed into the alley, and gruff curses soon followed, but Wind didn’t wait. He crawled under table after table, and at the end he made a run for the inn. 

“Wind!” Four shouted in relief as he ran into the end where the others had been staying. Twilight and Sky whispered prayers of thanks.

“Where are the others?” Wind asked.

“They’re out looking for you! What happened?” Four demanded. “Why are you all wet?”

Wind huffed, and glared at the irritation in Four’s voice, but it was all hitting him now. He blinked the shine of his eyes away and demanded, “Who in the High Seas is Jago?”

The door slammed open a second time, startling the other patrons who had already been staring at them in nosy interest. Warrior stood in the frame, tense as a bowstring, but when he saw Wind he sprung inside and grabbed the sailor by the shoulders. 

“Thank Farore. Time and I found those hooligans in the market. The knights are rounding them up.”

Four asked, far more gently, “Wind, what happened?”

“I’m fine!” He assured them both, though his coughing fit after made the others only look more worried. “It’s a long story. Can we get food first?”

[youronlybean]

Do you have any one-line ideas of any crossovers/AUs/heavenly, like fleeting thoughts that crossed your mind once, like @ someslothcheese's ao3 prompts? Basically something you felt was not enough to even share.

I have a list of these in my notes :0 (mostly zeroyalchaos, shockingly. Also a genuinely surprising amount of Kara and Chilled?)

- Kara as the Goddess of Death, Chilled as a new god (like Hermes - travellers, thieves, etc.) and they bond over people asking for safe passage to the afterlife

- Slack crushing on Skadj cuz he’s an arsonist

- PR1 detective AU, Ze is asked to step in on a fraud case even tho he only works murders but Chilled gives him puppy dog eyes, Kara as a forensic scientist, the case turns out to be mafia related

- mcyt/PR1 crossover, a café run by the Evo crew that has a pride party night every month that Shubble brings her PR1 friends to. They vibe and have a good time

- Lethal Company angst. Possibly SkadjATK. Possibly ZRC

- “You said ‘Kill him or I’m gonna kill us both’, what kind of terrorist shit is that?!” - chilledchaos quote (I don’t remember what I was gonna write with this but Chilled did actually say this once)

- Tay and Jeremy bond over rage and murder :)

- “I know,” Ze whispers, tightening his hold on his husband. “But I want you to know that I a hundred percent believe everything I said about you.”

Chilled squints at him. “Twelve years ago you called me a piece of shit garbage who kills for money.”

“I’m almost certain I didn’t,” Ze deadpans.

- But it’s one of those rare moments where Chilled is quiet. It’s not like he doesn’t have anything to say - Chilled ALWAYS has something to say - rather he doesn’t feel like speaking right now, which is uncommon and at times, unsettling.

- Knight AU with Em and Pasta, Em is Pasta’s knight and they also make out :)))

- Kid Cheesy AU where Kara, Ze and Chilled share custody of him but Ze and Cheesy have the same laugh and Chilled ends up falling in love with him whoops. Also they’re all best friends because I said so

- The Redrum Circus AU

- Courtilly group mom fic

- AxialFawkes cyberpunk speedracer fic. Jeremy gets injured and can’t race, Tom’s mechanic bails on him so Matt fills in

- Spooky PR1 - Kara as a witch, Larry as a werewolf

- Dread Hunger but it’s that one stream where Chilled and Kara went out to get resources and Chilled sacrificed himself for her

[autiezo]

The idea of Emo Teen Jean Vicquemare lives rent-free in my head

[It comes from @slonechnik 's DE AU where Harry's still a gym teacher and Kim has to go undercover as one of Harry's new students, for an RCM case. JV's 15, so Kim's 24 and Harry's 25]

It's so fucking funny picturing Jean V. trying to talk to Undercover Cop Kim. I'm gonna strive to make JV such a cringy loser. BTW, I think emo kids are cool, but not Jean lmao.

Anyways, here's a list of JV emo teen headcanons (below the cut):

- Nicknames himself “The Dark Mare”, based on his surname Vicquemare (reference to in-game Narrator's incorrect pronunciation of his French surname)

- No one used to respect Jean or call him by his preferred ‘title’, calling him “Jelly Boy” instead. That is, until the Hex incident happened. Jean finds that any student using his actual name, ‘Jean’, is disrespectful; unless he gives them exclusive permission, then that means he really likes that person. He also loathes being called by his initials and all of Harry's nicknames for him (e.g. Mean Vicky, J.V., Emo emo emo, King Void.)

- If Jean is late for gym class, Harry will jokingly and loudly mimick an alarm that goes, "Emo emo emo" to announce the teen's arrival. Jean a.k.a The Dark Mare obviously hates this. In Harry's defense, HDB does this specific alarm thing for all the regular latecomers. Every student has their unique, mocking call.

- JV hates Harry with a burning passion, despite the man genuinely wanting to support him. JV also does everything to weasel out of group sports.

- When he was 13, he used to get bullied and shoved in lockers a lot. So he has learnt how to pick locks from the inside and outside.

- He has also stabbed his bullies with a sharpened metal fork before, to the point where he made them bleed. Thrice. Harry helped him to prevent JV from getting expelled. Jean did bite his bullies several times, and has bitten Harry before. Harry laughed it off and said, “Son, you can bite me anytime if it helps you relieve stress. You have my permission, I don’t mind”. Which appalled Jean, so he doesn’t bite Harry anymore.

- This is the Hex incident. One day, Cuno's uncle (Kubo) stole Jean's diary and tried to read it out loud to everyone, but J.V. used big words Kubo doesn’t understand, so only part of JV’s secrets got out. J.V. got mocked severely, and Kubo + his gang of idiots ripped JV’s diary into several pieces. Jean yelled that he’d curse them all.

The next day, Kubo got into a car accident, which resulted in him never being able to play football again. Someone’s parents divorced. The gang proceeded to lose at football against the girls' team three times in a row. They begged Harry to talk to J.V. so he did. After much of Harry’s pestering, J.V. reveals that his curses didn’t actually work since curses are specific and they didn’t do what Jean commanded. Jean refused to tell Harry his secrets and said he just wanted everyone to leave him alone. And so, a deal was struck, and everyone stopped being mean to Jean, but people avoided him a ton. Rumours did spread, so many students really did believe that if they upset Jean, they’d be cursed.

- Jean actually has great parents and an ideal emotional support system outside of school lmao. Loser.

- Does actually get decent grades in school. He advanced two years in education

- makes his own emo music and song lyrics. Gave up on his music dreams after studying Literature and Music in community college, when he realised that being an outsider musician won't support himself financially. At age 21, he became a cop and joined the RCM at the same time as Harry (HAHAHAAHAHA)

- Has a lil gay baby crush on Kim but would never admit it to himself. He's also terrible at hiding it. Kim is the only ‘student’ he'd allow to call him by his real name.

- Secretly loves disco music but pretends to hate it. Will subconsciously bob his head up and down to disco music slightly if it plays for long enough.

- Has two pet cats he adores and drops the emo/cool guy facade for. JV pretends and boasts to everyone that he actually wants a pet snake instead, but he's a fuxking LIAR

- Has a chronic need and desire to seem 'cool' whenever people are around(except his family)

[wildestdreamsblog]

You are not alone anymore

Pairing: Soft!dark Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: You and Ari called a truce. And there might just be more than what meets the eye when it came to him.

Warnings: Soft!Dark Ari, Swearing, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Anxiety attack, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Hi loves! I have been so busy with work requirements for the past week, it was exhausting. But I’m glad I was able to sit down and write this! While likes are well appreciated, kindly also support your content creators by reblogging and/or leaving comments.

Masterlist

Part Three

She shook her head, looking intently at the person who gave birth to her. She was clutching her sleeves, willing her to look at her. “M-mom, please. I don’t want this. Please don’t do this to me, mom.”

Her mother only wrenched away her expensive sleeves away from her first-born daughter, thinking that if only she gave birth to a son, then she wouldn’t have the need to marry off her daughter.

“What did I tell you about this? It is a done deal, dear,” she smiled unemotionally to her weeping daughter, wiping her damp cheek with her delicate hand. “You’re going to marry him and that is final.”

Your eyes spotted the large man walking towards their group. It was hard to miss him despite the crowd. He was stopped every now and then by people greeting him with genuine smiles. He stopped to converse with them, his body relaxed as he laughed with them. You had always thought that Ari could be a politician with the way he cared for the people, or a philanthropist.

Perhaps, what annoyed you most was because you’ve seen how kind and non-confrontational he was to other people, but you.

You ducked behind lsaac when you saw Ari glanced at where you were standing. Isaac was Jess’ childhood sweetheart. Jess was the first person your age that you befriended here. She was so full of life, and was extremely friendly. You even thought she managed to bully you into becoming her closest friend when she stopped by your then-newly opened shop and repeatedly asked you to make her her favorite pie. By here seventh visit, you caved in and baked her one. From then on, she didn’t stop latching on to you and even told you that you would be her kid’s godmother. It didn’t matter that you didn’t agree, it was a done deal to her.

“Uhm, what are you doing?” Isaac’s baritone voice inquired at you. From this position, you couldn’t see much of Ari as your view was hindered by the flowers he and his wife were selling. You made yourself as small as possible, tucking your face on your legs.

“Shh! I’m hiding-“

“Hey, Isaac. Long time no see!” You heard Ari’s appealing voice from your position and you knew without doubt that he was standing on the other side of the stall.

Isaac smiled awkwardly at Ari, sensing that he was the one you had been hiding from. “Ari, man, how are you?”

Ari’s eyes twinkled as he leaned forward, the top of your head visible from this position. He looked at Isaac before pointing at you silently, mouthing your name to which Isaac grimaced and nodded all while scratching the back of his neck.

“So how’s Jess?” He asked as he rounded the stall, now standing beside your crouched form.

“She’s in her second trimester,” he replied lovingly before spotting his wife across the area. He waved at her and Jess’ face lightened up when she saw him.

Ari smirked, leaning his hip on the table in front of you. “Say, have you seen Y/N?”

You visibly shrank further, waiting impatiently on Isaac’s answer. Why couldn’t he just say no and get it over with?

“I saw her awhile ago. Why are you looking for her?”

Ari tilted his head to look at you, amusement on his eyes. It had been a few days since he last saw you after that kiss. He remembered it like it was yesterday, how soft your lips were, how warm they were, and how you looked at his eyes. That close and he could see how beautiful your eyes were, how you froze for a moment, how small you felt in his arms, and your weight on his body.. it was something he struggled to forget. Except that he couldn’t. Ari hated how you could affect him. It brought him back to the first time he met you. It was alike the first time, and just like then, he didn’t like the feeling he had.

Since then, you had been running on the opposite direction every time he came upon your path. Last night, you were running like a mad woman when you saw him walking your way. He had to laugh when he saw your startled expression, and how you changed direction so quickly that you left dust on your way. The other day, you saw Ari approaching your bakery. It was barely your closing time when you ran to your door and flipped your sign to Closed so quickly that it left him dumbfounded. For heaven’s sake, it was only two in the afternoon that time.

If he was being honest, it amused him to no end to see you trying so desperately to not run to him in a town this small. And he let you be. But now, he needed you to come with him to another town to choose and pick up the supplies. Molly’s wedding was fast approaching, and there were a lot of things to do. And you did promise her that you would helped prepare. Ari was a man that believed in promises.

Ari sighed dramatically, “She stole something from me,”

What? You lifted your head abruptly, your eyes widening as you saw him smirking down at you. If you were shocked to see him this close, you didn’t show it. You swallowed your embarrassment from the accident kiss because you were anything but a thief.

Isaac frowned, “What is it?”

“She stole a kiss from me. M-my dignity as a man-ouch!”

You pinched his hand that was close to your face so hard and only let him go when he glared at you. The people passing by looked at him curiously when he suddenly yelped from the pain.

“Get up, darling,” he hissed under his breath, his smile plastered once again on his lips as he flashed them his blinding smile at the people who were looking at him curiously.

“No.”

“What are you even doing there? Are you hiding from me?”

You scoffed as you stood up so quickly he had to step back to avoid colliding with you.

You didn’t notice Jess who was looking at you and Ari. Her questioning face turned into a teasing one. “Bestie,” Jess trailed knowingly, surprised by your sudden appearance. “W-what are you doing under the table?”

You whipped your head at her, before turning to look up at Ari. He was watching you with an annoying grin before he shrugged. At this point, your cheeks were warming up. Was she implying that you were doing something to Ari? Were you overthinking? Or was your mind just dirty?

“It’s not what you think,” you replied so quickly as if you were rushing to prove your innocence. But it only made you looked guilty.

Jess made a monotonous sound that implied that she didn’t believe you. Inside though, she was thoroughly enjoying messing with you. Her observant eyes didn’t miss the way Ari was looking fondly down at you. Hmm, she knew Ari since she was young. Yes, he left town, but he always returned. And he had never seen Ari voluntarily hanged out with a woman, except Molly. They even thought he was one of those people who weren’t attracted to anyone. She was almost convinced he was asexual…well, until you.

Because the way he was looking at you was in no way asexual in nature.

“Ari!” You slapped his muscular arm when he didn’t come to your defense. It wasn’t as if your dignity was the only one on the line! “Tell her it’s not what she thinks it is!”

Jess blinked innocently, “I’m not thinking anything…bad. It was just that Ari suddenly made a sound when you were under the table…..I’m just saying.”

You glared at her before crossing your arms on your chest. Ari was laughing on the inside, he couldn’t helped but tease you every second of the way because you never backed down. You were so different from anyone else he knew in life. You stood your ground. You called him out when he was being unreasonable. You didn’t put up with his shit.

Ari kept his face carefully blank, “Should she think you’re doing something bad under the table, sweetheart?”

You scrunched up your face at him before stomping ahead of him, making them know how annoyed you were at them. You suddenly stopped to look at the irritating man, “Are you coming or not? I don’t have all day!”

You heard Ari’s hurried steps behind you, which prompted you to walk briskly. Another minute passed before you turned your head at him. God, if only you weren’t fond of Molly, you wouldn’t agree on going to the next town just to grab supplies for her wedding. You saw him walking, his hands in his pockets as he smiled at you, the sun shining on his face as if it was spotlight made just for him. His eyes were so…blue. And they were beautiful, as if Gods and Goddesses sculpted him themselves. You had always thought that life was unfair. Seeing how beautiful he was only proved it further.

“You do know you’re going the wrong way, right?” Ari commented calmly, which made you more infuriated. You had been walking the wrong way for so long and he’d only tell you now?

Once the two of you were set on the right direction, Ari led you to his truck. Wanting the day to be over with, you opened the door uncaringly when Ari’s large hand pushed the door closed once again. “Let’s talk,” he ordered before leaning his body on the car, effectively preventing you from opening it again. His masculine scent invaded your senses, the hint of cigar matched with his natural scent were distinct on him. He was standing so close, his proximity making you tilt up your head just to look into his blue eyes. The air was blowing gently against his hair. With his arms crossed on his chest, his muscles were looking more prominent. He was looking intently at you, as if you were a puzzle he needed to solve, or an insect annoying him. He kept switching between the two.

You were shaking your head, “I don’t want to talk.”

Softly, he said, “We need to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about the kiss!” You blurted out, rendering the man in front of you to blink owlishly at you. He definitely wasn’t expecting you to bring that up.

Ari licked his lips before stiffing down his smile. He bit his lip to prevent him from smiling any further, “I’m not referring to that. And that wasn’t a kiss.”

Your frown deepened, “Then what is there to talk about?”

“I want a truce. I want Molly to have the wedding she deserves. I don’t want our petty squabbles to prevent us from properly doing our tasks,” He explained before tilting his head to the side, quietly observing you, “And I think you are fond of our Molly, aren’t you?”

What he said made sense to you. She was the closest thing you had as a grandmother. Molly did her very best in welcoming you to this town. You could at least be civil with her Ari… how hard could it be, right?

Your nod was the only thing he needed before flashing you his innocent smile. Ari opened the door to his truck for you. He leaned in uncaringly before yanking the seatbelt and placing it securely on you. He paused to glance at you, his face so close to yours that you had to physically lean back to avoid touching his face. Your eyes went involuntarily to his plump lips. You swallowed, remembering how it felt to touch his lips with yours. Your eyes went to his. He lost his smile, looking intently at you, “That wasn’t a kiss, sweetheart. Because when I do kiss you, you would know it.” He whispered before winking at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and before you could react, he was already closing your door.

His huge truck was fairly new and shiny in comparison to this town. Clearly, Ari was doing good in his job. Else how would he afford this? Or maybe he came from old money?

You watched him as he expertly navigated the vehicle out of the town. He was silently humming with the song on the radio, his demeanor calm. On the other hand, you were anything but calm. You weren’t always as shifty during the rides before, until you managed to get your life back to you. You always felt like the past was just near you, bidding its time. It took you a moment before you realized you weren’t scared. It took you a moment to realize that with Ari, you didn’t know why you felt calm enough to close your eyes and enjoy the pleasant breeze.

“And I got all that I need, right here in the passenger seat,” Ari sang along with the radio absentmindedly, his low voice pleasant to the ears. You smiled as you listened to him, your eyes watching him as he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other comfortably resting on the car door.

“You can sing,” you noted as he finished the song. He looked indignant by what you said.

“Darling, I can sing well,” he huffed as if he was appalled by you playing down his God given talents.

You chuckled, “You don’t have a humble bone in your body, do you?”

The two of you spent the whole day going over Molly’s list, with the two of you fighting over what you thought looked better, what color, what taste, what wine- you two could never agree on anything. He was, by all means, opinionated. And you were too, considering that you spent your whole life having everything decided for you, from what haircut you were going to get to what major in college you were going to take. It felt like heaven when you were able to decide for yourself.

“The goal is for them to enjoy, Ari,” you enunciated his name with much annoyance, “Not to get them drunk before the first dance!”

Ari chuckled humorlessly as if he couldn’t believe you, “But darling, isn’t that the goal of drinking?”

“NO!” You shrieked. You glared at him, with him equally killing you with his exasperated eyes. No one wanted to back down. The owner was looking at the two of you awkwardly, he felt like he stepped into a landmine and no matter what move he made, he was not going to win. It felt like forever passed, but in reality, only a few seconds passed before your glaring match was disrupted by your loud stomach grumbling.

Ari clenched his jaw, before looking down at your stomach. “Fine. You win.”

“Where are we going?” You watched his muscular back marching out of the store.

“To feed your monster.”

Ari drove to a quaint but decent hotel. You were muddled as to why he stopped by here. You watched him as he walked to the establishment. He was almost to the entrance when he finally noticed you weren’t following him. He turned to look at you, before gesturing his arms up as if asking why you weren’t following. You were starving and quite worn out at this point that you were able to step out of the car and cross the distance between the two of you. You were glaring hard at him, “For your information, Mr. Levinson, I am not that kind of woman,” you said indignantly, clutching the front of your top closer to your chest.

“What?” Ari replied, his face showing how perplexed he was by you. “What are you talking about now?”

“This is clearly a hotel-“

“With a restaurant on it! Get you head out of the gutter. I am starving already.”

You blinked owlishly, only now noticing that customers could be seen from the window eating heartedly. “Oh.” Maybe you were being a little bit judgmental.

It was way past lunch time that there weren’t many customer. The two of you immediately placed your order. The waitress was subtly looking at Ari, her eyes looking at his muscular form appreciatively. It didn’t take long before the waitress placed your food on the table, leaning down more than what was necessary.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked politely, not once looking at you but the stoic man in front of you. Well, this was entertaining.

“Sweetheart, you need anything?”

Once you shook your head, Ari nodded and dismissed the waitress respectfully without even glancing her way. Thankfully, the waitress got the hint and walked away.

You were munching down on your food when you noticed a sliced of his food on the side of your plate. You swallowed down a bite before pointing at him with a fork.

“Are you going to make me pay for that again?”

He chucked before quietly starting on his food. You squinted your eyes at him, before taking a bite of his food. God, why was it that other people’s food orders always tasted better than what you ordered?

“No. It was just fun messing with you.”

You chuckled lightly. It was just like him to do something like that. “The waitress was flirting with you,” you commented lightly.

“Is she?” He looked uncaring before pointing at his food, “Do you want more of this?”

“Yes, please. What, you didn’t notice her looking at you with heart eyes?”

“I didn’t notice. I don’t care.”

You looked at him weirdly, “I thought you wanted to be married and have a wife to come home to?”

“I told you, darling, I haven’t found her yet.”

“How will you know if it’s her?”

“I’ll just know.”

The drive home was pleasant and peaceful. Ari was a great conversationalist. The two of you still bickered, but unlike before, it was a playful one. The truce the two of you had was indeed helpful that you managed to finish the tasks hours before the sunset. Ari was laughing at one of your stories when a sudden thunder echoed throughout the almost empty road. You looked up at the rapidly darkening skies. Drops of rain were falling slowly at first, before pouring heavily down. “It looks like it’s going to pour down for a while,” you commented before turning your head at Ari, who was starting to breathe deeply. He carefully maneuvered the car to the side, before stopping. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast in between, his hands clutching the steering wheel tightly.

“Ari?”

He didn’t respond, his whole body stoic as he tried to get his breathing slowed down. “Ari? Are you okay?” You whispered once again, making your voice as soft as possible.

“It’s- the rain.” He managed to say before resting his head down on the steering wheel.

You were starting to get worried. You looked out the window once again and noticed that it would take another half an hour before you reached your town. “Do you want me to drive?” You offered, watching his trembling hands tightened on the wheel. He turned to look at you, the blue in his eyes darkening before shaking his head vehemently.

“No. It’s dangerous out there!”

If you were shocked by his outburst, you didn’t show. You just nodded your head as he returned to his position. You had attacks like this before but never that intense. His state right now was something you had never experienced. With his trembling hands, and his shortened breaths, you knew Ari was experiencing an anxiety attack.

Without another thought, you quietly undid your seatbelt, scooted closer to his form, and wrapped your arm around him. You didn’t think twice before resting your cheek on his broad back, your other hand running through his hair, combing through his hair gently. “Okay, I’m not going to leave. I’m just here until you’re ready, okay? We’ll wait until the rain stops. It’s okay,” you mumbled against his shirt. “It’s okay, Ari. You’re not alone,” you repeated.

It could be hours, it could be minutes, who knew? But when the sun shone again and Ari calmed down, you lifted your head from his body to look at him.

You smiled when you met Ari’s eyes, and perhaps for the first time since the night that changed his life, Ari felt like he wasn’t alone.

Next Chapter

[kurocatsstuff]

11:24 ★ : what’s the point in this life?

genre : fluff, angst (?)

note : scaramouche x reader > ^ < ,, haven’t worked on a fanfic in like.. three months 😨 story taking place a few years after Scaramouche joined the Fatui :3 (please reblog, it would help)

You took pleasure in seeing people laugh or genuinely being happy and enjoying life and the phenomenon called love. You worked as a clown on the outskirts of Inazuma, a nation known for horrible storms and lightning.

You, yourself took in the common fears of little children and personality. Which made you perfect for the “kids” side of the striped tent in which you worked in. When a storm struck you would gasp or yelp in unison with the kids and wait as they huddled up close to your, looking at you as the “bigger kid” or the “adult” in the situation.

Your fears and personality were relatable with little kids which made you a big hit once you had joined the show as a clown, yet you’d like to consider yourself a jester since you referred to the kids as royalty.

Months gone by as you worked there, you were envious of the kids playing as your childhood was deprived of love and decency.. but we’ll get into your past later..

—

The puppet sighed irritated by the Doctor’s words, the thought was ridiculous. Visiting some distant circus to people laughing and kids pushing and shoving, if someone were ever to shove him aside like he was nothing, whether on accident or not. He would immediately kill everyone there.

“I have better things to do than see some dimwits waste their time making kids laugh only to get decent pay. I’d almost feel sorry if I didn’t have better things to do.” The puppet scowls, his eyebrows furrowing. Scaramouche glanced at Dottore with annoyance, turning his head back to the paper works he was originally working on.

The Doctor chuckled before chucking one circus ticket his way, after he so he clapped his hands together, rubbing it against each other wiping the non-existent dust off his gloves. “I think you’ll enjoy the pity show, it’ll be amusing watching someone desperate to make a fool out of themselves.”

In response the Harbinger working with a pen retorts irritated. “I don’t have the time for this type of thing! It’s irrelevant to me, I don’t like crowds anyway either. Why would you think I would go to that shit place willingly?!” He slams his pen to the desk, grabbing the ticket ready to rip it—yet he stopped for a second. “Why do you even have this in the first place?” He stared agitated yet confused at the blue haired man, of course it isn’t of many surprise that the man would try to pull off something like this.

“What happens if I were to tell you that one of the surviving residents of Tatarasuna were to work there?” The man grinned at the seated Harbingers reaction.. with eyes widened he looked down at the ticket then at Dottore with disbelief. “You really expect me to believe that?!” He snapped, bad memories being dug up from the depths of his mind and it being rubbed in his fair face. “Ah, yes. I’m sure of this, a reminder of the past still lingers alive.”

His past was supposed to be burned in ashes all of it.. oh well, it’s only one mortal. Not worth death. “..who cares.. how do you know this?” Scaramouche eyed Dottore suspiciously. “That’s a secret for now..”

—✦ 12:35

notes: BITCH I DONT WANNA CONTINUE THIS SHIT😭😭😭😨😨🙏🙏🙏😔😔 I wanna go to sleep now, also putting a poll for voting, this considered part 1 ig … 😭💀 GO FAMOUS MY CUTE LITTLE WORDS

[capricornmuffins]

Majorly in need of Kendall’s improved and sweet birthday please!! 👀🎂❤️

Anything for you, lovely!! Thank you for the inspo as always! ❤️❤️ this is fluffy and also a little angsty because ken and Rava are separated at this point in the timeline and I have no self control. I’m sorry this got so long!

Summary: A happier birthday for Kendall. Set a few months before the pilot.

Some smuttiness under the cut also!

Anyway, Don’t Be a Stranger

“Hey!” Her warm smile greets him when he answers the FaceTime. “Happy birthday, grandpa.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, unfastening the tie he put on. Too stuffy. “Thanks. 39–fucking prehistoric.”

“Did you get your AARP brochure yet? Or is that the big 4-0?”

“Uh huh. Laugh it up. You’re next.”

“Hey, I still have 4 months to go, so. You’ll always be old first.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You uh—you better have a great present for me. To make up for this fucking harassment on my birthday.”

“Who said I’m getting you a present?” She asks, brow raised.

He huffs a laugh. It’s too easy to fall back into their usual banter—he never knows quite where to draw a line.

“What are the kids doing?”

“Getting ready for school, but they want to say hi—hey, guys? Daddy’s on the phone.”

“Happy birthday daddy!” Sophie practically screeches on the other end. Her crooked smile makes Kendall’s heart constrict. She grows every time he sees her—which is admittedly less these days. He’s burning the candle at both ends, getting ready to take up the mantle at Waystar.

Only a few more months to go til Dad’s 80th. The final countdown.

“Thanks, baby girl. You pick your dress out today?”

“Yes! It’s my new one from Auntie Shiv.” She hands the phone back to Rava so she can do a twirl.

“Wow, look at you! Auntie Shiv picked out a beauty. You look great, sweetie. What’s Ivey doing?”

“He’s here—he wants to say hi,” Sophie passes the phone to Iverson.

His baby boy. His son. His legacy.

“Hey buddy!”

“Hi daddy,” Iverson waves, pushing his too-big glasses up the bridge of his nose. Kendall aches.

“You all ready for school?”

“Uh huh.”

He hears Rava whisper to him offscreen.

“Happy birthday,” he recites dutifully.

“Thanks, bud. Hey—I got a new Lego set for us. It’s that Spider-Man one you wanted.”

“Cool!” He nods enthusiastically, a genuine smile lighting up his little face. “Will you help me build it? Like last time?”

“Sure will. I think you’re gonna like this one even better.”

“Hey, Ken—we have to run—“

“Oh, sure—have a good day at school guys. I love you.”

“Bye daddy,” The answer in unison.

“Hey—one sec,” Rava comes back on.

“What’s up?”

“I know you have them this weekend, so I haven’t asked. But—do you have any plans tonight? For your birthday?”

“Um—“ He wishes he could say he was throwing a cool party, or even just having dinner at Dad and Marcia’s. He should just lie, because his actual plan of working as late as humanly possible and passing out is pathetic even to him.

“I’m sure you probably do—“ she goes on, almost nervously.

“I um—yeah, I don’t, actually. Been a lot going on at work, you know, with everything. So—I was just gonna work late.”

There’s an almost pitying look in her eyes that makes him feel even worse.

“Well, if you don’t feel like being at the office for 14 hours, I was wondering if um—maybe you’d want to come over for dinner? With the kids?”

“I—wait—really?”

“Yeah—I would have asked sooner, but um—I don’t know. I figured you’d have plans.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “I’m uh—I’m in really high demand.”

She laughs a little. “You usually are.”

“Yeah—I don’t know about that. But um—sure, that sounds great. Really great.”

“Yeah?” She looks relieved. As if he’d say no to her. “You wouldn’t rather be out with the guys?”

“Come on, no way.”

“Okay,” she smiles. “Okay, good. You think you can get here for 6:30? They usually eat at 6, but I know it’s not easy getting out early around there.”

His mind flashes to the nights he wasn’t home until 9 or later, too coked up to eat the food she’d leave out for him. He screws his eyes shut and lets it pass. Bad, bad times.

“Yeah, no, that’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“I think they can let the birthday boy out early. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’m glad we’re doing this. It’s been a little while since the four of us had dinner together…” she trails off.

“Uh huh. Yeah, this is good. And hey—thanks, Rav.”

“Yeah, of course. See you tonight.”

It’s his second birthday since they’ve been separated. Last year was spent in a black hole of depression after she left with the kids. She took them to her parents, brought him to rehab, and left him with the promise that this whole thing was temporary. Just so he could completely focus on his sobriety.

They’d get through it, she said, but she needed time. How much more fucking time did she need?

This time last year, he hoped he wouldn’t see 39. The sky fell and fell and fell. He’s better now — rehab and therapy have stuck. He’s learned to live with the pain, like some incurable disease. But the hole in his heart is still there, it scabs over and the slightest misstep reopens the wound. He’s all scar tissue. She still hasn’t come back to him fully, only in late night phone calls and the occasional dinner hand-offs that feel like explicit trysts.

But now, she’s finally throwing him the life vest. He’s fucking taking it.

————

He spends the last hour of the work day anxiously checking his watch. He needs to be en route to Rava’s by 6 and he’s determined to get there on time. He’s going to prove to her that his head is clear, that he can be the man she needs again. To prove what a good father he is.

“Hey, dad—“ he sticks his head in to Logan’s office. “I’m heading out.”

“Bankers hours today?”

“I’m uh—I’m having dinner with Rava and the kids.”

Logan’s face is stony.

“For my—for my birthday.”

“Uh huh,” he looks like he wants to say more, but remains impassive. “Well. Good. That’s fine.”

“So I’ll—I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Well, when you’re done there, if you want to come by for a drink—you know, for your birthday. Marcy and I will be home.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“Good. Give the kids my love, won’t you?”

He’s no longer looking at him, attention back on his screen. Dismissed.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring them by soon.”

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he says, still not looking up.

“Thanks.”

He feels light as he gets into the idling Mercedes.

“‘Sup, Fikret.”

“Evening, Mr. Roy. To Rava’s as planned?”

“Please.”

He puts on his headphones to decompress from the day, stomach fluttering in anticipation of seeing Rava and the kids. Their absence has taken up permanent residency in his ribcage and he can’t shake it loose. It’s ever-present, the weight of his fractured family. His failure. Loneliness.

But today he feels hope, because he knows they’re getting back together. She’ll see that everything will work out. They’re just going through a rough patch right now. He has to pay the toll for his sins.

“Thanks Fikret,” he nods as he steps out of the car. Rava’s new building feels tall and looming and unfamiliar.

She buzzes him up and opens the door herself instead of her usual housekeeper. His heart almost leaps out of his chest at the sight of her. She’s casual in faded jeans that hug her perfectly, and a fashionably slouchy white sweater. She’s done her hair and makeup though — he tries not to feel too good about it.

“Hey,” she greets him with an easy smile, the one that sucks the air out of him.

“Hey,” he tries to sound chill, but he feels like he just ran the fucking New York Marathon.

He clocks her taking in his Brioni suit with a flicker of satisfaction.

“You look nice,” she says.

He leans in to embrace her, his confidence growing. Her sweater is soft, tangible against his fingers, grounding him. But the scent of her Jo Malone is still a gut punch, so he’s careful not to inhale too deeply.

She rubs his back, almost absentmindedly, before pulling away.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“Oh, thanks. I’ve been running around,” she waves him off. “The kids are so happy you’re coming.”

“Really?” He smiles, daring to let himself be cheered at the thought.

“Mhmm,” she gives him a funny look. “Did you think they wouldn’t be?”

“I mean—I dunno. We FaceTime almost every day. I’m not that exciting.”

“You’re their dad, Ken,” she reminds him gently. “They always want to see you.”

He nods, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Hey, guys? Dad’s here!” Rava calls out up the stairs. The sound of barreling footsteps echoes from the second floor.

“Don’t run down the stairs, please,” she adds. “This spiral staircase is a fucker,” she says to him.

“Architectural Digest’s wet dream, though,” he notes.

“Hi daddy!” Sophie appears at the top of the stairs, consciously making an effort to walk slowly.

“Hey, there’s my best girl,” he opens his arms to her. She hits the last step and launches herself into him.

Iverson follows behind, nudging himself into Kendall’s side.

“Hey, slugger,” he ruffles his hair, pulling him in for a hug.

Sophie wraps her little arms around his neck and looks at him earnestly, the way she has since she was a toddler.

“Daddy, we’re making you a present. Me and Ivey have to finish it. Okay?”

She reminds him so much of Rava, all soft eyes and self-assurance and abundant affection.

“Whatever you say, wild honey-pie.”

She kisses his cheek, making him want to sink to the floor and weep.

Iverson stays quiet, looking at the ground. His boy, a piece of his soul, who’s so much like him in every way he almost wants to shake it out of him, like a fucking genetics Etch-A-Sketch.

“How was school today, guys?”

“Good. We learned about presidents. I said that you know the President in real life,” Sophie informs him.

“Oh yeah? You remember meeting him a few years ago? When you were like—“ he puts his hand down by his knee. “Yay high?”

“Uh huh,” Sophie nods. “He was weird.”

He and Rava both snort.

“Yeah, uh—he is kinda weird, huh?”

“Grandpa likes him,” Iverson comments.

“Yeah—Grandpa likes everyone.” He means it as a joke. Rava raises an eyebrow, and he shoots her a look.

“Hey,” she intercedes. “You wanna guess what’s for dinner?”

“Uh—how about….” He looks between Sophie and Iverson. “Spaghetti worms?”

“No!” T hey giggle.

“No?” He smiles. “Huh, okay. Dirt cake?”

“Daddy,” Sophie rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, okay. Tell me.”

They both look at Rava and shrug.

“I had Margareta make your favorite filet. You know I’m hopeless with a steak.”

“You—you did?” He prickles with pleasant surprise.

“Well yeah! You have to have your favorite meal on your birthday,” she smiles.

Fuck, he loves her. This feels like how it used to be. He wants to say fuck the dinner and lay her down on the countertop—

He exhales heavily, expelling the pent up emotion from his lungs.

“You are fucking hopeless with a steak.”

“Little ears,” she nods to the kids, but there’s a glint of humor in her eyes.

“That’s a bad word,” Iverson informs him.

“I know, I’m sorry buddy. That doesn’t mean you get to say it, okay?”

Iverson nods.

They spend the next hour at the dining room table. His appetite has returned more recently, particularly now that he’s clean. It’s been a long time since he’s tasted a homemade meal, usually preferring takeout sushi if he isn’t at a business dinner.

“No steak for you, Soph?” He asks.

“Her friend Avery Bancroft is a vegetarian, so…” Rava offers.

“Oh, right. That Bancroft?”

“Uh huh.”

“Red meat is gross. It’s all bloody,” Sophie wrinkles her nose.

Iverson picks at his plain pasta.

“How’s your pasta, Ive?” He asks.

“Good. I put butter on it now.”

“Awesome, bud.” He thinks that’s the right answer.

“Mom, Ivey and I need to go finish daddy’s present.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Can’t wait,” he calls after them.

She clears their plates, and he helps stack the dishwasher, despite Margareta hovering nearby.

“You want some coffee?” She asks.

“Uh…yeah. Sounds good,” he smiles.

He sits down at the island as she sets to making them coffee. She doesn’t ask him how he takes it, but still makes it perfectly.

“You remembered,” he notes.

“I’ve been making your coffee for like, 15 years. Have you figured out how to use your machine yet?” She teases.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “And no. Carla handles that…”

“Helpless,” she rolls her eyes. He tosses a sugar packet at her.

“What’s new with you? How’s work?” He asks, trying to keep things on neutral ground.

“It’s good—you know, the usual. Taking on more projects lately than I normally would.”

“What, you strapped for cash?” He jokes, trying to keep the bitterness out of it.

“Ha ha. No, I just…need to throw myself into things right now.”

“I uh—I get it.”

“But hey, I got you something.”

“You—you got me something?”

“It’s um—it’s nothing crazy. Just a card.”

She procures an envelope from the basket on the granite counter, simply reading Ken.

The card is simple, almost generic. Not much like the Husband birthday cards she used to thoughtfully pick out for him, making sure the words aligned with her feelings perfectly.

But he opens it, and lottery tickets fall out. He chuckles, remembering the year she started adding them to his birthday gifts as an inside joke. They were engaged at the time.

Happy birthday, Ken. I’m so proud of all the work you’ve put in this year. I hope 39 is happy and healthy! Love, Rav

Love.

He’s touched. He holds the lottery tickets in his hand. If you win, you have to leave Waystar and start a rival company, she used to say. They’d spend all night coming up with names and business plans.

“Never did win any of these.”

“Maybe this’ll be your year,” she smiles sadly.

“Thank you, Rav. You didn’t have to.”

She shrugs. “It’s still your birthday.”

“Dadddy!” Comes Sophie’s voice from the top of the stairs. “Close your eyes!”

“Okay,” he plays along, covering his eyes. He can’t see the smile on Rava’s face, but he knows it’s there.

He hears their footsteps come into the kitchen.

“Okay, open!”

Sophie is proudly holding up what looks like an art project, a poster with all kinds of construction paper shapes glued to it. There are 7 or 8 pictures of him and the kids, and a couple of the 4 of them, glued haphazardly around the construction paper. Stickers dot the borders.

At the bottom, I LOVE MY DAD is written in Sophie’s messy handwriting. They’ve both signed their names.

Kendall can’t speak. He feels like he’s been broken in half.

“Do you like it?” Iverson asks, proud of his handiwork.

“Guys—“ he chokes out. “I love it. This is so great, thank you. Wow. Come here.”

He scoops them both into each arm and hugs them against him. They nuzzle into him and he tries desperately not to let his eyes well up. He might be failing.

Rava unexpectedly joins the hug, wrapping her arms around all of them.

“We saved the best for last,” she says.

“There’s more?”

“Cake!” Sophie and Iverson chorus.

———

After they eat cake, and the kids have showered and gone to bed (Ken even got to tuck them in), he and Rava are sitting on her couch.

“This is the best birthday I’ve had in a while,” he says. “Last couple of years have been—“ he doesn’t need to finish the sentence. She knows. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad we could do it.”

“And, hey, this place looks great,” he looks around the vast living room. His unofficial, non-legally-mandated child support is clearly doing it’s job.

It’s surreal that she has a whole

new home, with new furniture and art on the walls and sculptures on the coffee tables. But he still sees traces of their life before—there are scattered pictures of him with the kids, of his arms around a radiantly pregnant Rava, of him holding Iverson in the hospital when he was born.

He thinks of his own home, their home, that still carries her ghost. He can still smell her on his sheets, hear her stilettos on the marble entryway, feel the indent on her side of the bed.

“Oh, thanks! Yeah—I actually brought in a decorator this time around.”

“What? Given up your interior design side hustle?” She’d always insisted on decorating their previous homes herself, filling them with familiar touches.

“Yeah, I just—I didn’t have it in me for this one,” she shrugs. There’s sadness behind her nonchalance, and he feels it in his bones. He can fix this.

“Rava—it doesn’t—it doesn’t have to be like this,” he looks at her earnestly, trying to reach her the way he used to.

“Ken,” she sighs.

“Seriously—hasn’t this little trial separation gone on long enough? I mean, come on.”

“You’re doing so well. You’re sober and getting ready for the big job—I just—I think you should stay focused,” she puts a hand on his knee.

“I am—I’ve turned things around. I’m good. I’m in a really fucking good headspace.”

“I know,” she pats his knee. “I meant it—I’m really proud of you. I want you to be happy.”

“But I’m not—I’m not like— happy happy. Not without you. Or them.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, they’re glassy.

“You still have them, Ken. They adore you.“

It’s a small comfort.

“I know, but I mean—are—are you happy? That they have to FaceTime me every night instead of us all being together? Do you like going to sleep alone every night?”

“Well it’s not ideal, obviously, but—“

“Because I fucking hate it, Rav. It’s been awful without you.”

She looks pained. “I’m sorry. I am. Believe me—this hasn’t been easy for me either.”

He wants to dispute that, but then he remembers the first few months of their separation. When she’d call him at 2 am. They’d stay on the phone in silence until she fell asleep. Sometimes he’d hear her crying quietly.

“I can do both, now. I can focus on being the big boss and you guys. That’s all that matters to me.”

She brings a hand gently to his face, cupping his cheek. He leans in to her touch.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she protests, but it’s half-hearted.

He leans in closer, eyeing her lips. He wants to suck her in until she’s absorbed into his bloodstream.

“Do you—do you still love me?” He asks tentatively. He’s both confident in and terrified of her answer.

She pulls back a little, removing her hand.

“That’s not fair.”

“No—I’m sorry. I know.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Okay, sure. But it is. I mean, do you still love me or not?”

She bites her lip, nodding imperceptibly. He catches it nonetheless. His heart leaps. She still loves him. He feels that pesky glimmer of hope again.

“That’s—that’s never been the issue.”

“Then what the fuck are we doing?”

“We’re doing the right thing.”

“How? That doesn’t—that doesn’t even make any sense? How can us not being together be the right thing?”

“You know why.”

“I’ve done everything you asked. I went to rehab. I’m sober. I’m in therapy.”

“Ken,” she clutches at his hand. “I’ve already gone through one devastating breakup here, okay? I can’t do it again.”

“But we wouldn’t break up again. I’m better now. We’re still not—I mean, we’re not like, really broken up. We’re just taking a break.”

“Okay Ross,” she laughs a little.

“Hey,” he leans back in, close to her face. He looks into her eyes. “I still love you. Okay? I love you.”

“You can’t just say that,” her voice wobbles.

“It’s the truth, baby.”

He can see the walls crumbling within her. He leans in even closer, forehead resting against hers. His lips a millimeter away from brushing hers.

“Ken, please,” she whispers. “Don’t.”

He pulls back, stinging like she’s slapped him.

“Okay, fine. I won’t—if you don’t want me to. I’ll stop. I’m—I’m sorry.”

She searches his eyes and he feels heat rising in his cheeks. She always makes him feel raw and exposed.

To his surprise, she grabs his face and brings her lips to his.

He hungrily grabs at her and she climbs clumsily into his lap. Her hands run through his hair while his travel up and down her back. He can feel her smile into the kiss, making him do the same.

This feels good, this feels right. He can feel himself coming back to life.

He skims his fingers under her sweater, making her shiver. She begins to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt as he moves to the button of her jeans. He’s already hard as a fucking rock as she wiggles out of her jeans, grinding against him. The feel of her wet cotton panties makes him moan in her ear.

“Rav,” he growls, fingers threaded in her hair, gripping at her scalp.

She pulls off his shirt, running her hands over the planes of his chest, down his stomach, like she’s reacquainting herself with the feel of him.

“Touch me,” she whispers, nibbling his earlobe, the spot she knows drives him crazy.

He indulges her command.

They end up on the floor of the living room (the couch was nowhere near big enough) while the kids still sleep peacefully upstairs.

They’re spent, panting and sweaty. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, and he brushes it aside. She shoots him an almost-nervous smile. He squeezes her into him.

“That was—“

“Yeah—wow.”

“That was fucking interstellar sex. Holy shit.”

“Yeah—what was that new move? Have you been using it lately?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a lot of dates to practice it on.”

She narrows her eyes, and he basks in her hint of jealousy.

“With uh—with Pornhub. And my right hand. Or your nudes.”

She laughs, whacking him in the stomach. He grunts exaggeratedly, curling in on himself. “You should delete those.”

“Easy, killer. You know I’m fragile right after I cum.”

“Mhmm,” she grins.

“You think they heard us?” He nods at the stairs.

“Nah. They’re hard sleepers.”

“They get that from you. A fucking freight train crashing into the bedroom couldn’t wake you up,” he recalls, making her snort.

“Iverson is like you though,” she says. “He has trouble falling asleep sometimes. Gets jumpy. He needs to be woken up gently.”

“Yeah, there’s no waking you up gently. I used to have to practically toss you onto the floor. Dump water on your head and shit.”

“Shut up,” she laughs again, resting her head against his shoulder. “You never did that.”

“How would you know? You fuckin’ slept through it.”

He grins at her laughter. It’s the kind he used to be able to pull from her easily. He wants to drink it up, snort it like powder.

“Okay, stop. We’re actually gonna wake them,” she’s wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“Should we—“

Before he can say should we go to bed, his phone vibrates from the pile of their clothes. Her smile fades a bit.

“Sorry, one sec—“ he rummages for his pants, pulling his iPhone out of the pocket.

“Fuck. It’s Dad. Just—just let me get rid of him,” he promises, pleading with his eyes. Her smile is gone, replaced with a resigned look on her face.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Are you still coming?”

“Oh—shit, sorry. I forgot. I’m still at Rava’s.”

“Uh huh. Marcy and I are going to bed. So don’t bother.”

“Fuck. Sorry dad. I’ve been spending time with the kids—“

“Right, sure, sure. Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. You have a good night, kiddo.”

“Uh—thanks, Dad. Hey, um—“

Logan’s already hung up.

“Well, fuck. Whoops.”

“What’s up?” Rava asks, covering herself with a blanket from the couch.

“I told Dad I’d stop by tonight, after this. But—“

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah it’s—it’s fine. Whatever. I’d rather be here, obviously. I just didn’t think we’d—“

“Yeah, I—me either. Maybe we shouldn’t have—“

“Hey, no no. I wanted to. You have no idea—“

He reaches for her before she can slip out of his grasp again. She looks hurt.

“It’s just—it would have been nice to—I don’t know. Not make plans with your dad overlapping dinner with us. That’s all.”

“Hey, come on. It wasn’t like that. I told him maybe I would, if I wasn’t—if you didn’t want me to stay long.”

Her eyes soften. But she picks up her clothes and starts to get dressed.

“Rav,” he can feel the magic of the last hour fading away, and he clings to her arm. “Please. Let’s just—let’s go to bed.”

She rubs a hand over her face. “I don’t want the kids getting the wrong idea—“

He feels the air deflate from his lungs, crushed.

“Right,” he scoffs.

“No—Ken, not like that—“

“Uh huh. No, sure. Sure.”

“I just—I don’t want to rush into things. I’m trying to set boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, well. I’d argue that me being inside you is not a great fucking boundary?” He spits.

“I know, I know. I just—when I’m with you—you know? When I’m with you—“ she trails off, looking anguished, grabbing at his hand.

He sighs, anger releasing.

“I know.”

“It’s been so hard,” she wipes at her eyes. “It’s not fair. It fucking sucks.”

He’s caught off guard and a little indignant. She thinks it’s been hard? His anger flares up again, withdrawing his hand.

“This whole fucking thing was your idea. You wanted this.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t—want this. This wasn’t in the fucking vows, you know?” she sighs, defeated. “I can’t rehash this all again.”

“Uh huh—maybe pass it off to your therapist. I’m gonna go.”

“Kendall,” she puts a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to ruin this—tonight felt like we were a family again.”

“Yeah, it did.” He feels cagey, like he needs to pace.

“Can we not—can we not leave this angrily? Please?”

She looks down at the ground, still wrapped in the blanket. She chews a nail nervously—an old habit. He feels a pang of guilt, and his anger deflates.

“I’m sorry. I’m working on not reacting emotionally,” he parrots his therapist calmly.

“I know. It’s okay.”

“I’m gonna—I am gonna go, actually. I’m sorry. I just—I’m sorry, Rava.”

“I know,” she placates. “You’re okay.”

He nods, willing it to be true. He takes her card and the kids present.

“I’ll um—I’ll see you Friday. For pickup.”

“Yes—let me know what time works.”

“Yeah, will do.”

She cautiously wraps her arms around him, rubbing his back. He sighs, returning the hug.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Happy birthday.”

Late that night, he’s laying in bed. He feels shitty. He’s hovering over their text thread, wishing he was in bed with her. He fucking hates all of this.

He clutches the kids gift close to him, like if he holds it tight enough, their belief in him will rub off.

As he debates calling her, because he’s desperate for her comforting words, he sees that she’s calling him.

“Hey,” he answers in surprise. “I was—I was thinking about you.”

“Me too. I um—can we—“

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay,” she sounds relieved.

He closes his eyes and lays the phone down next to his head, each of them falling asleep to the sound of their breathing.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I was listening to some real people comedians (as in, local comedians whom I have met in real life, and can therefore not be considered to have in any way “made it” in comedy, because if they had then they would not be hanging out around me) talk the other day, and they were discussing the concept of “laughs per minute”, and whether it’s a bullshit way to judge comedy. Which I think it usually is, depending on the context. In a really short club set, it probably does matter a lot because you don’t have time to do more than that. In a Stewart Lee Edinburgh hour, he can go 35 minutes setting something up and everyone will just trust that the punchline at the end will be worth it.

Anyway, it got me thinking about the concept, and how I judge comedy in lots of different ways, and what has made me laugh the most – both in terms of most laughs per minute and hardest laughs overall – is not exactly the same as my favourite comedy shows ever. But anything that manages any kind of notable laughs per minute rating is impressive, because lots of shows I really like never clear that bar. If we define a “laugh” as something outwardly expressed and audible, more than just a smile and a nose exhale, then it doesn’t actually happen all that often. I’ll consider a show very successful if it gets me to do that just a few times across an hour.

So I’ve tried to think of what comedy shows have successfully gotten more than that, have made me properly laugh out loud really consistently for their entire runtime (whether that’s an hour or 15 minutes, though obviously it’s more impressive if they can sustain it for longer). If I’m thinking about this across my whole life, I have to take into account the fact that everything’s funnier when you’re a kid, you haven’t already seen every obvious joke so nothing is hack or overdone. I remember the shows I was into as a kid (ages 7 to 14 or so, I think) as the funniest things in the entire world, I used to watch every episode over and over and over. The main ones on rotation being Flying Circus, Blackadder, Fawlty Towers, Mr. Bean, Ripping Yarns, Yes Minister, M*A*S*H, and Cheers.

Now, at 33, I can understand why it’s annoying to have the parrot sketch memorized – because it’s been quoted so often than at this point repeating it is almost like, for example, trying to sell someone something that's long dead and nailed to a perch. At nine, I could recite every word in it, over and over for hours, and it never stopped being funny. As an adult, I’m still pretty sure Blackadder was a work of genius, but I don’t think I’ll ever again find anything as funny as I found Hugh Laurie’s acting power stance when I was eleven years old. I used to wake up at 5:30 AM to watch a few episodes of whatever show I was re-watching at the moment (my list of shows on rotation was heavily determined by what was in my parents’ DVD boxset collection), until I could mouth along to all the lines but they never got less funny.

I did re-watch every episode of all those British shows in 2020 (so everything but M*A*S*H and Cheers, though I’ve rewatched a few episodes of both those recently as well) to see how they held up, and while they didn’t make me cry with laughter the way I did as a kid, I still thought almost all of them were very good. And by “almost all of them”, I mean… look, I think Mr. Bean is just meant to be a kids’ show. I loved it when I first watched it, because that shit’s hilarious when you’re a kid. As an adult, it looked like a kid’s show with a few genuinely funny moments. The turkey on the head is still funny. Playing with the toy Daleks in the Christmas store is still funny. My family still watches the Christmas special every year on that holiday. The rest of it we can probably leave behind.

Anyway, the point is that you can’t count that because I was a kid. Then I think of my favourite comedy shows that I got into as a teenager. Major ones to come to mind are The Thick of It, 30 Rock, Parks and Rec, Community, Arrested Development, Flight of the Conchords, Freaks and Geeks. My favourite comedy shows of my twenties: Bojack Horseman, Veep, Archer, Brooklyn Nine Nine, The Good Place, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, Portlandia, Broad City, Party Down, Bob’s Burgers. I supposed I should add a mention of my mixed and up-and-down longterm relationship with South Park.

I remember a lot of things I’ve loved about those shows besides pure laughs per minute – the characters, the ideas, the atmosphere. I’d go back to certain shows over and over just because I liked the way it made me feel to spend time in the world they created. But for pure, really hard, out-loud laughs? Looking at that list, I think the ones to get the most of those out of me were The Thick of It, Veep, 30 Rock, Arrested Development, and maybe when they were at their best, Portlandia, Archer, and Community could do it. But not all the time. There isn’t really that long a list of comedies that have consistently made me laugh really hard once I wasn’t a kid anymore.

Anyway, that isn’t actually what I was thinking about that made me decide to write this post. The conversation I heard from local comedians, about laughs per minute, made me think of what has done that to me in my thirties, the few years since COVID occurred and I decided to not do anything except British comedy. I have seen and heard and read so much comedy in the last few years, and I have really really loved quite a lot of it. So I was surprised when I realized that I think, if you judge it entirely by out-loud laughs per minute, there aren’t a huge number that come to mind as consistently providing a high rate of those.

In terms of full-length stand-up hours, I think there might still be no one who’s gotten more proper laughs per minute out of me than Rhod Gilbert. All four of his DVD shows are incredible – I think I’d say the first one (The Award Winning Mince Pie) is my favourite, though I might just have a soft spot for the first one I saw, when I first had my eyes opened to that captivating style.

I hesitate a little to comment on his health from the perspective of how much I love his comedy specials, because I don’t want to make something as serious as a person’s life or death about whether I’ll get to hear more comedy specials (I feel the same way about Mark Steel’s current situation – I did make a post a while ago in which I said he has to recover for the sake of Radio Four, but obviously, he has to recover for the sake of himself and his family, even his annoying son, I wish them all the best and it’s not about the comedy fans). But for everyone’s sake, mainly his, God am I ever glad he’s back and by all accounts okay. He’s said he was diagnosed with cancer the day after he recorded his latest special, and you can really tell in that video that he was being slowed down and struggled to match his usual frantic energy levels, but it was still brilliant.

Anyway, I think Rhod Gilbert still wins at laughs per minute from me in stand-up. Proper laughter. Laughing so hard I can’t breathe and have to pause the video so I don’t miss the next bit and end up with tears in my eyes and my throat and stomach hurt. I think Rhod Gilbert has done that to me the most. I’ve tried to think of whose stand-up material might do that to me the second most, and I’m slightly annoyed that I think the main two names that come to mind are Sam Campbell and Nish Kumar. Slightly annoyed because when I look at those two names alongside Rhod Gilbert… okay, is it possible that I might just like being shouted at?

I’m now trying to think of a non-shouty comic who’s done that to me. Kitson, obviously. I think my favourite stand-up hour ever is Daniel Kitson’s Where Once Was Wonder, which is fucking incredible for its ability to get every single aspect right. Brilliant on an emotional level, hitting multiple themes and topics that all have deep emotional resonance and saying original and significant things about them. Brilliant on an intellectual level – every time I listen to it I marvel at the number of layers in its structure, how its conceit of being full of contradictions is embedded in almost every line, how I catch more each time and he points lots of them out but throws even more away. And crucially, brilliant on a humour level. It is consistently, all the way through, hilarious. He probably never goes ten minutes without at least one bit that makes my whole body seize up from laughter until I can’t breathe right.

But honestly, most of the Kitson things that have gotten the highest laugh per minute out of me were not the intricately written shows. I wince at how much he would hate this, but probably, at laughs per minute from me, some of his 2007-2008 Graveyard Triple R radio shows beat some of his best proper stand-up shows. Same with some of his WIP/pre-WIP just messing around shows. There’s some audio footage of a 2007 Late ‘n’ Live night where Daniel Kitson and Andy Zaltzman do an incredibly stupid sketch that has put tears of laughter in my eyes. If you want to know what level of humour we're talking about, that sketch contains the line "That was three ladies booing my dick because it chose the wrong member of We Are Klang to fuck" (which it did, by the way, by which I mean Andy Zaltzman chose wrong while portraying the role of Daniel Kitson's penis, but not for the reasons that this Greg Davies-fancying website would expect, if you'd heard the Triple R shows with Steve Hall you'd understand. He then went on to choose the wrong member of Pappy's Fun Club, what does Andy Zaltzman know about the most attractive members of the most successful British fringe comedy sketch groups of 2007?). It's definitely not better than properly written Kitson shows, or Zaltzman shows, for that matter. But it might have made me laugh out loud more times.

I think It’s the Fireworks Talking is one of the best pieces of performance ever written, but recordings I’ve heard of that have probably made me laugh fewer times than a recording I’ve heard from the Melbourne Festival of when he finished performing It’s the Fireworks Talking and then went into a radio studio to talk shit with David and Claudia O’Doherty all night. Or than the Zaltzman/Kitson penis sketch, put together with everything else from that Late 'n' Live recording.

I know I’m not saying anything new here; I’m hardly the first person to point out that Daniel Kitson is absolutely fucking hilarious when he’s messing around with no script. Lots of people have pointed it out before me, and he has clearly heard those people point it out, as he’s often mentioned that it annoys him, and understandably so. What’s the point of working so hard on proper shows if people just like your unplanned stuff better?

But I don’t think I actually like that stuff better. I don’t think his radio shows are better than It’s the Fireworks Talking (I sort of don’t think penicillin is better than It’s the Fireworks Talking). And this is where I come back to the fact that laughs per minute are not the best way to judge a show (I’d like to clarify at this point that It’s the Fireworks Talking did have quite a high laughs per minute rate out of me, just not as high as Kitson and some O’Doherties getting weirdly competitive about indie music at 3 AM).

Anyway. I think Sam Campbell recently became the first person to make me laugh so hard that I had tears in my eyes, from hearing something that was performed in 2023. He did that with some of his recent stand-up. On Taskmaster he has, more than once, made me laugh loud enough to cause a cat to run across the room (I’m currently catsitting and one of the cats gets easily spooked by sudden noise, so whether I make her jump is a good gauge of whether something’s made me laugh out loud). But only his stand-up has actually made me cry.

I’ve been lucky enough to get to hear quite a bit of recent stand-up in the last couple of months. I’ve really liked a lot of it, but I’m now trying to think of how much of it has actually made me consistently laugh out loud, which is several steps beyond just being funny. I think the only people who’ve done that are Sam Campbell, Olga Koch, Nish Kumar, Greg Larsen, Sarah Keyworth, and Fern Brady. Which actually isn’t that short a list, but it’s a shorter list than the list of comedians I’ve enjoyed at all in the last couple of months.

Anyway, I didn’t start writing this post because of stand-up. I started writing this post because of a conversation I heard some comedians have the other day, but I started thinking of that conversation, and decided I wanted to write a post about that conversation, because I was re-watching some No More Jockeys today. And fucking hell, I have to say, this is supporting the theory that laughs per minute can come so much from unscripted shows that it could justifiably make comedians despair as they wonder what the point is of honing their craft. I’ve listened to a bunch of Tim Key’s properly written stuff in the last few days (went on a bit of a binge of his radio show and some of his old stand-up), absolutely loved it, it’s intelligent and funny and very well written stuff, but it still didn’t make me laugh out loud quite as hard as No More Jockeys does. Almost nothing makes me laugh out loud quite as hard as No More Jockeys does.

I tried to think of some non-stand-up thing that makes me laugh as hard/loud/often as No More Jockeys. The Bugle has managed it, at its best. I've only heard a few episodes of Pappy's Fun Club, but that's done it at times. Catsdown at its best has accomplished it.

The main thing I can think of that's done it really consistently is Taskmaster, but even that probably loses to NMJ at laughs per minute. It’s up there, though. Beats a lot of scripted sitcoms at it, including some really good scripted sitcoms. So from Taskmaster and No More Jockeys, you get the laughs, and the fun of getting emotionally invested in following a competitive game. Why are people still bothering to craft well written sitcom worlds?

This post has been massively disjointed, I think I've hit about six different topics since I've started, somehow including who's the most attractive member of Pappy's Fun Club. I finally have a weekend to myself and have decided I feel like writing things again, and it's started with this. I don't think there was any point to it. All I was really trying to say is I can't believe how fucking funny No More Jockeys is.

Mark Watson desperately, pleadingly trying to argue with Alex Horne about whether Donald Duck has been to prison – I'm sorry but I don't think Rowan Atkinson has done anything funnier than that in his entire life. He's done lots of things that are better than that. But not that can make me laugh harder than that while I'm over the age of 30.