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suzukiblu · 5 months

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You are (not) the father! (<- spent five minutes trying to find a gif from that one tv show and then couldn't find it) for wip Wednesday? 🥰

“Her name's Kyra,” Tim says quietly, looking down into the crib at her. He keeps his voice low, but he knows she'll sleep through it. She sleeps like a rock every time she goes down. “Kyra Constance Drake-Kent.”

Kon steps up beside him. Looks down at her too.

“I named her after you,” Tim says, although it's obviously incredibly obvious that he did that. It's just something to say. Some pathetic attempt at . . . not a justification or even an apology or an excuse, because none of those things would mean anything when he'd do it all again, but . . . but.

Just–but, he supposes.

“You were the only way I could explain her,” he says, stiff and abrupt. “I said–I told everyone that we'd slept together. They all just assumed I meant that we'd been together. And I thought . . . it doesn't matter. I just–you were the only way I could explain her.”

The only way he could stand to explain her.

“I had to explain her,” he says, and his voice doesn't want to come, but it doesn't have the right not to. He owes Kon this explanation. Owes Kon the truth.

Part of him still wants to keep lying, though.

“It's not her fault,” he says, and doesn't take his eyes off Kyra's sleeping face. “And I don't–if he ever found out about her, I thought . . .”

He feels Kon's eyes shift to him. He still doesn't take his own off Kyra.

“After you died,” he says very, very evenly. “I . . . ran into him, a couple weeks after. Alone. And then he–and I couldn't–and you were the only way I could explain her. If anyone ever . . . ever looked at her DNA, or–or if she got sick, or . . . got powers, or . . .”

Tim doesn't think about the last time he saw Kon's face. Doesn't think about–

He doesn't think about it.

“You can–you can say whatever you need to say to–to everyone. Obviously,” he manages to stutter out, his chest clenching and gut twisting with nausea as he doesn't think about it. “I'll take the fall or the blame for whatever story you want to make up, I just–I just–just–just please, please don't–don't tell them that Kyra isn't . . . that she's from . . .”

“Tim,” Kon says very, very carefully. Tim tells himself–he tells himself Kon lived through having both Paul Westfield and Lex Luthor as his “fathers”, and not having Clark as one. He tells himself–he tells himself–

“I'm s-sorry,” he chokes like it means something; like he wouldn't do it all again if he thought it'd work. Like he's not a selfish, terrified asshole and a horrible person who lied about his dead best friend and let everyone else believe whatever they wanted to about it. “It was the only thing I could think to do, it was . . . I couldn't . . . c-c-couldn't tell anyone, because . . . because if I told anyone, that meant s-someday I'd have to tell her, or that he might find out about her, and . . . and you were my best friend, and the only way I could explain her, and I told myself . . .”

Kon looks at him for a long, long moment. Tim tells himself–tells himself this is Kon, and he doesn't need the contingency plans. He doesn't need any of that. Because this is Kon, who'd never hurt Kyra. Never hurt him.

Not Match, who already did.

“I told myself you would’ve said it was okay,” Tim rasps very, very quietly, staring down at Kyra's sleeping face. “I told myself you would've . . . would've let me lie about it.”

“I would have,” Kon says, his own voice just as quiet as he looks straight at him, eyes intently, inhumanly blue. “And I'm gonna.”

Tim bursts into tears like the selfish, terrified asshole he is, because he's selfish and terrified and an asshole. Kon just leans over the side of the crib and brushes the back of his knuckles against Kyra's soft little cheek with all the terrible gentleness of unfathomable superhuman might compressed down into touching some fragile, precious, impossibly delicate thing.

“Hey there, Kyra,” he murmurs with that same terrible, terrible gentleness. “Nice to meet you. I'm your pa.”

It takes a very long time for Tim to stop crying after that.

#authenticaussie #wip: the one where kon isn't the father #implied noncon #. . . I hit a groove and got carried away lol #sorry not sorry #long post

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b-dwolf · 2 days

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oh please no, don't mind me, just thinking about the implications of them ending this season with eddie asking buck about the go karting place in the desert (that they mentioned in the first episode)

they'll both be out of their respective relationships, buck will have figured his feelings out for eddie and eddie will have just started to really uncover what he feels for buck, and finally digging thru all of his overwhelming amount of catholic guilt and what that means for him.

they could be in the locker room, about to leave after their shift (to further the parallel) and eddie could wait til everyone else leaves, so it's just the two of them left alone before he asks buck what his plans are for the day. buck would have a lackluster response, having nothing planned, and eddie would say something like;

"well uh hey, if you had nothing goin' on, this uh, person, told me about this go karting place out in the desert, could be fun" he would probably be smirking a little, his smile wavering a bit to showcase his nerves (though not understanding fully why he is nervous because? he's just asking his friend to hang out.. isn't he?)

but buck would obviously notice, laughing a little to try and ease the tension and calm his nerves a bit, "yeah, yeah i think i heard of it. uh- no yeah i don't have anything goin' on, i'm sure chris would love that" smile easily sliding onto his face, thinking about spending the day with the diaz boys.

eddie would sorta backtrack a little, not expecting that response, and adds on, "oh i uh- i was actually thinking that uh, maybe it could just be, y'know, us? i mean, if you're cool with that of course! i can ask chris but i think he might have plans with one of his friends and-"

buck cuts him off before eddie can ramble himself into oblivion, "-eddie. don't worry about it, i- i would love to go with you" his cheeks a little rosy, clearly not anticipating this turn of events and what it could possibly mean.

and then to really send it home

"great, it's a date."

just to really show that hey, this is the direction they are going in btw! yes it is romantic! yes it is intended to be that way!

and ofc s8 would be them sort of Knowing but not doing anything because eddie needs the time to work on himself, figure himself out and everything but by s8 finale they get together <3

haha or something idk!!!

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie speculation #buddie idea #this is just rambling #sorry i got carried away LOL #sometimes i get these little blurbs of ideas in my brain and i cant fully flesh them out so its a mix of making sense #and being insane #anyway #rose unintentionally writes a fic #911 on abc

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djmorn · 3 months

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God that wing care was so good. I love this warlock Tav scenario. I hope you write more of them in the future. Thank you for your work!

Thank you kindly, dear anon, and everyone else for your sweet responses to the ‘Wing Care’ bit.

You know, you are the second person to suggest a continuation of this and when writing it I honestly did not even think that there could be more to this little ficlet but I am very willing to provide. Thanks for the inspiration and giving me opportunity to return to these two yet again.

So here is a part deux for you all who enjoyed the first one. I hope this will serve your ‘pampering the devil’ needs once more.

You arrived home satisfied at a job fulfilled. And fulfilled quite well you might add, granting you the opportunity in feeling pride at your skill as a warlock and an excellent debt collector, the bane of negligent contractors. Raphael was lucky to have taken you under his wing. You smiled at the memory of your meeting in the Devil’s Den. The fiend had been obviously pleased at you taking care of his… damaged goods. It was easy to tell by the way he had been so eager to quickly fill you in on your assignment, the intended reason of his visit.

Now that that had been dealt with you could finally indulge in some relaxation of your own and let yourself fall onto your bed, legs dangling down by the side since you still had your boots on. You shifted to untie the laces when suddenly your gaze fell upon your desk at the edge of your chambers. On it you could spy a parchment and something that looked like a small vial that had not been there when you’d left this morning.

With a sigh you got up again, unable to quench your curiosity. Upon closer inspection you immediately recognised your master’s elegant scrawl:

I HOPE your assignment went well and that my unfortunate debtor has been dealt with accordingly and as I should expect of a warlock in my services. It just so happens that I require them again. As soon as possible. Be sure to bring the vial with you.

See you soon

You squint your eyes at the letter. What could Raphael possibly want now? He did have other warlocks at his disposal, why yet again pester you with more work? After you handling his bruised wings with such care you at least expected him to be a bit more negligent with you with any further missions.

Returning the parchment to your desk again you took a closer look at that vial. Turning it around in your hands you spied a small label attached to the glass. Your Infernal could still use some work but you were sure the text read ‘massage oil’.

The portal took you straight to the House of Hope. Raphael was already awaiting you in the entrance hall.

‘Ah. My dutiful little warlock. How considerate of you to aid my call so soon.’ He spread his hands out wide in welcome. As well as his wings.

You were delighted to see they had returned to their former glory. By the Nine, did the devil heal up fast. Even for a cambion.

As usual you bowed to him respectfully. ‘When my master beckons I answer.’

‘And how wise of you to do so,’ he said. ‘I presume our heedless and pitiful customer has been taken care of?’

‘Just as you wished, Raphael. Yet another poor unfortunate soul added to your gory collection.’

He beamed at you. ‘Good. All the better to move on to your next task with haste. How is your Infernal these days?’

‘Well enough to have read the label on this.’ You held up the vial containing the oil. ‘Although the meaning behind it still escapes me.’

The devil threw you a conspiratorial smirk. ‘Be a good little mouse and make a clever guess.’

‘Well, this is far from the ointment I applied to your wings the other day. And I can see they are bereft of any fissures tonight. Do you want me to force this down some other contractor’s throat to leave them unable to escape a terrible curse of their bowels?’

Raphael chuckled. ‘No, you silly goose,’ he said with amusement. ‘By your enthralling display of care in Sharess’ Caress I’ve come to the realisation that I have been quite negligent of my own comfort and welfare lately. I don’t allow myself to indulge myself as often as I should. After all, you do want your sweet master to stay healthy and vigorous to take care of you, don’t you?’ And he tilted his head questioningly.

‘So,’ you began carefully. ‘You want me to do what now? Do it again but this time make it a proper massage?’

Now Raphael frowned at you and you could feel yourself tensing up at your patron’s patience wearing thin. ‘Is that not far better than sending you out through the mud and undergrowth of a stinking swamp? You should know that the next debtor on my list is quite the hermit.’ He examined his nails languidly. ‘But I guess if the prospect of spending time with me – taking care of your master is such trouble I might as well draft you a map of his abode in just a minute.’

You quickly threw your hands up in defense. ‘No, no, no,’ you said, throwing him a disarming smile. ‘I apologise, Raphael. It’s no trouble at all. I’m just surprised is all.’

His eyes roamed over you, still sparkling with skepticism. ‘Mhmm. All right. Then follow me.’

Raphael led you to his boudoir. You had never been invited inside. Before you unveiled the most lavish bed chambers one could imagine. The middle of the enormous room hosted a steaming bath which the devil approached. Quite obviously he wanted to take the same approach as last time, sitting down together at the edge of the pool while you would work your magic on his wings. Confidently you followed the steps of your patron but came to a sudden stop when he went to remove his belt. With a snap of his fingers his doublet and shirt followed suit. And so it was that the devil you had sworn your loyalty to stood right in front of you, upper body laid bare for you to worship.

‘I figured since you don’t have any fissures and bruises that need taking care of tonight I might offer you some more playroom.’

How very kind of him.

Raphael sat down and pat the space next to him. You heeded his unspoken instruction.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘Do you have everything you need?’

‘Um, yes,’ you said. ‘Only… Where… Where would you like me to start?’

‘Oh, I find myself to be just a little tense in the neck and shoulders. Why don’t you start there and work your way further down, hmm, little mouse?’

‘All right.’ You removed the cork from the vial he’d left you and poured a good bit of the liquid onto your hand, then put the container carefully aside, mindful to not knock it right into the water next to you. Smearing your hands thoroughly with the oil you began to wonder at this admittedly ridiculous situation you had found yourself in. Taking care of your master’s wounds had been an act made out of duty, and Raphael had been so opposed to the idea when you had first suggested it that it now seemed almost dubious of him wanting to return to this scenario again, and so soon at that.

Oh, well. The whims of the infernal, you thought to yourself, then put your hands to your master’s back.

You hadn’t thought it possible but Raphael’s shoulders were indeed quite tense. The way he always carried such an air of confidence about him there had not been a doubt in your mind that his limbs would be more slackened. How he continued to prove you wrong tonight.

Oil coated hands brushed over his warm skin and you let your fingers dig into the parts from where his strong shoulders protruded, massaging him in a way that was a blend of firm and gentle. The sigh coming from the cambion told you it was the perfected mixture.

‘Yes,’ he said, encouraging you on. ‘That feels good. Don’t stop with the shoulder just yet.’

Continuing your attention at his desired spot you could not help but ask: ‘Say, Raphael. I am quite flattered that you would invite me to… do this for you, but I cannot help but wonder why. Why me?’

Of course you knew about his incubus. Raphael knew that you knew. ‘Haarlep is not nearly as talented in the arts of pleasure as they’d have you believe. No, anything that goes beyond one’s carnal needs is out of their expertise. Big hands and claws? No, thank you. This is much better.’

You beamed when Raphael practically purred as your palm found its way towards the back of his neck, rubbing it with care. The oil was dripping and you were in need of replenishment but barely dared to remove your hands from him. Truth be told – with Raphael nothing short from a moaning mess, this massage had turned into quite the sensual ordeal.

‘I’m gonna need some more lotion,’ you said apologetically. ‘Your skin is so warm it pretty much turns the oil into thin air.’

The devil said nothing, patiently waiting for you to reapply the liquid to your loving palms and continue. When you put your hands back onto your master an odd little smile flitted across your lips, satisfied at having him so pliant under your touch.

‘There is nothing that could make me keep you from doing whatever that magic is.’

You bit your tongue wanting to tell him this is what the dirty mortals he thought so beneath him called basic affection, not wanting to risk an outburst of temper and saddened at the thought that he truly just might be unaware.

Finally you moved onto the base of his wings, lovingly curling your thumbs around them, then moving over to massage the joints of his left wing once more.

‘It is incredible how well you’ve healed up. There’s not a bruise to be seen.’

‘My dear, us devils do have a knack for this kind of stuff, you know?’ He paused. ‘Although, I do believe I also have you to thank for it. In parts, of course.’

You thought back on the battles of his youth he’d told you about and wondered if there had been someone there for him too. Taking care of him. This time you dared to breathe your musings to him: ‘Has anyone else done this for you before?’

Raphael was silent again, and for a moment you thought he would simply refuse to answer. Then he gave away a quiet ‘No,’ quickly followed by ‘Just be careful with the skin there, yes? It is a little sensitive still.’

With the tips of your nails you gently caressed the membrane. The wing twitched. But this time not from pain. Maybe Raphael was a bit ticklish?

‘Where did you learn all this?’

‘Well, I have given massages before, you know? Never to someone with wings, mind you. I’m just doing what I think would feel nice.’

‘It does,’ Raphael said. ‘It does feel nice.’

You smiled to yourself again, proud that you could lend him your services as more than a warlock. As you moved on to his right wing you could feel something wrap around your ankle. It was his tail! Holding you tight. Was this something that happened unconsciously with devils? You could not imagine your patron showing his appreciation for your ministrations like that.

Deciding to give it no further thought because you could feel your cheeks blushing you poured out the rest of the massage oil into your palms and went to rub it all over Raphael’s back, eliciting the most delightful groan from your devil. You went on stroking, caressing, and kneading his skin until your hands were all but dry, then you finally removed them from him.

‘Well,’ you said. ‘I guess that’s the rest of the oil.’

The cambion quickly removed his tail from your ankle as if awakening from a strange dream and turned towards you. ‘I’ll make sure to get a bigger bottle next time.’

He drew his hand closer to your face, and lightly brushed his claw along your jaw. ‘Thank you, little mouse. If you should ever find yourself tensed up yourself I might be generous enough to return the favour.’

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff #request #kinda (sorry for just going off there anon i don't know if this is a bit encroaching on my part lol)#asks #anon #excuse me but the future is NOW anon #anon i am sorry i got carried away

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strawberri-draws · 2 years

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Raeda dinner date 💫

#my art #fanart #strawberridraws #toh #the owl house fanart #the owl house #toh fanart #raeda #raeda fanart #I love them #this was based off a photo I saw on tiktok of a Marilyn Monroe recreation(?) idk but it was swaggy lol #I got carried away drawing this it was just supposed to be a sketch #now it’s fully rendered #also sorry I cannot draw raine or Edas hair for the life of me #I tried my best :(#also I just noticed I forgot to. make Raines glasses actually round lmao #rip me ig #anyways #I care them :]

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koobiie · 2 months

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fanart for what may be my favorite fic of all time, Running Behind by @asidian! here's prompto enjoying all the foods from the fic beacuse he deserves it <3

#ffxv #prompto argentum #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #im going to be wild in the tags here for a moment. this fic makes me CRRRRRRRAZZZZZZEYYYYYYYYYYYYY #like barking snarling yowling tearing up dirt with my hands taking bites out of the drywall #its like old at this point but every couple of years i remember it and im like well here i go again! and reread it in a several hour sprint #and then scream and cry nad throw up cause i love it soooo so much #seriously i recommend it so sohard . honestly even if you dont like ffxv #ultimate hurt comfort fic checks off all my boxes 11/10 explodeing #oh yes also the art is here. yea i got carried away drawing the foods jfkdslhglks #hi author if you read these tags im sorry for pinging you about your fic that came out like. 7 years ago #but ive been meaning to make fanart for it for sooooo long cause i love it and i finally got around to it lol #koob art #digital art #im going to be pissed if theres a food i forgot to include lmao #anyways yea i <3 prompo my scrinkly winkly crunkly doo he deserfes happines. im going to disappear into the sunset now

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stevethehairington · 1 year

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i love you prompts: 98 w/ romantic steddie? 😌

lou!! thank you for sending this in!! ooh this is a good one!!

98. "Take a deep breath"

It’s late when the credits finally start to roll onscreen.

Steve guesses it’s sometime close to midnight, or maybe a little after, but he’d taken his watch off earlier before he’d gotten elbow deep in dirty dish water, cleaning up after the mess they somehow managed to make whipping up a simple dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup. It sits on the kitchen counter, all the way across the room, and the nearest clock in the Munson trailer hangs beside the phone, too far away for Steve to see from his spot on the couch.

He can’t exactly twist in his place to try and catch a better glimpse of it, or get up to fetch his watch either. Not while Eddie leans up against his side, arms crossed over his chest and neck bent awkwardly so his head can rest against Steve’s shoulder, fast asleep.

When they first put the movie on, the two of them had started off on opposite ends of the already pretty small couch, but as it progressed, they’d gradually shifted closer and closer — in the name of sharing popcorn easier, to whisper their movie commentary directly into each other’s ears rather than speak over the film, and, eventually, so it seems, so that Eddie could use Steve as a pillow.

Not that Steve minded or anything. He liked it, in fact — likes it. Likes having Eddie so close, likes feeling the warmth of his body pressing up against his own, likes the fact that Eddie is comfortable enough with him to let his guard down like this.

Eddie hasn’t been sleeping all that well as of late, so when his head tipped onto Steve’s shoulder a little over half an hour ago, Steve just slouched a little lower to ease the angle of his neck and reached for the remote to turn down the volume. It had been a little hard for him to hear it after that, but he hadn’t really paid it much attention after that point anyways.

Now, though, the movie is over, and it’s late enough that Steve’s verging on overstaying his welcome. He knows he should probably wake Eddie so he can let him know that he’s going and say his goodbyes and head out.

But Eddie just looks way too peaceful. Steve doesn’t want to wake him.

Instead, he decides that he can just leave a note. In case Eddie does wake up to find him gone. He’ll know nothing bad happened to Steve, just that he went home for the night and that they’ll see each other tomorrow — because chances are they will. They hardly went a day without spinning into each other’s orbits now.

Except, Steve doesn’t want to just leave Eddie on the couch either. He knows from personal experience that the Munson’s sofa is not exactly the most comfortable thing ever. Every time he falls asleep on it, he wakes up with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back. He doesn’t want that for Eddie.

His bedroom isn’t far, just down the hall, and Steve will feel a lot better if he gets Eddie to his bed before he leaves. So, he does his best to maneuver out from beneath Eddie, cradling his head as he removes it from his shoulder and lowers it to the cushion instead.

Steve takes a second to roll out his shoulders, then he slips one arm under Eddie’s back and the other behind his knees, which are curled to his side. As carefully as he can, he lifts Eddie from the couch.

Eddie stirs, but he doesn’t wake, thank god. He just smacks his mouth a little and buries his nose into the collar of Steve’s sweater, and Steve lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

Eddie’s lighter than he looks, but still pretty heavy, and Steve doesn’t want to drop him, so he takes it slow as he follows the path towards Eddie’s door at the end of the hall. It’s, thankfully, already open, so all he has to do is kick out a foot to push it wide enough to fit through.

The blinds in Eddie’s room are still fucked up — broken enough that the slats droop down in a way that gives the morning sun the perfect opening to shine right in and wake him up before it’s time. Eddie complains about it constantly, but he hasn’t made any sort of attempt to fix them yet, and right now, Steveis grateful for that. The glow of the moon is bright enough to seep in through the gap, providing just enough gentle light that Steve can see where he’s going.

He makes it to the side of Eddie’s bed without issue, and delicately deposits Eddie onto his mattress. Again, Eddie shifts, rolling slightly onto his side, but he still doesn’t rouse.

The blankets are shoved to the end of Eddie’s bed, and Steve stifles a snort at that as he reaches for them and starts to pull them up and over Eddie’s body. He knows Eddie runs cold, so he takes a moment to tuck the corners in and add an extra blanket to the top so that he’s nice and cozy.

Then, unable to help himself, Steve brushes Eddie’s bangs to the side and leans down to leave a soft ghost of a kiss to his forehead.

He’s just starting to straighten up and pull his hand back when quick fingers dart out to curl around his wrist, trapping him there.

Steve freezes, eyes snapping back open to find Eddie, awake, blinking hazily back up at him.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, groggy, still somewhere halfway in between awake and asleep.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me,” Steve whispers. “You fell asleep, I just brought you to your room so you’d be comfortable,” he tells him.

Eddie smiles then, this sleepy, goopy sort of thing that makes something warm settle in Steve’s chest, and he tugs on Steve’s wrist. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and Steve thinks maybe he has something he wants to tell him.

So he leans in closer.

And closer.

Eddie tips his chin up, and Steve thinks he’s going for his ear, so he can whisper his sleepsoft secret. Only, his mouth doesn’t go anywhere near Steve’s ear. Instead, it lands against his own in a—

In a kiss.

It’s chaste, tender, just the sweet press of lips against lips. It catches Steve off guard at first, but the surprise settles, and Steve is about to let himself melt into it.

Then the moment shatters.

Eddie jerks back, bolting upright as he scrambles far enough back in his bed that he hits the headboard. His eyes are wide open now, fully alert and not a single trace of sleepiness anywhere on his face as he stares at Steve. His hand, the one he’d had around Steve’s wrist just seconds ago, hovers over his own mouth, like he can’t quite believe what it has just done.

“Oh, oh, fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m so— I didn’t mean to— fuck, you have to— please don’t—”

“Woah, hey, it’s… it’s alright, Eddie,” Steve says, holding his hands out in what he hopes is a placating gesture. He doesn’t come closer, doesn’t want to frighten Eddie further, but he wants Eddie to know that there’s no reason for him to be so scared. He’s not… he’s not mad. Or upset. Or anything that Eddie probably thinks he is right now. Not even close.

Eddie’s words start to fail him as his breathing begins to hitch, and Steve can see the rapidfire rise and fall of his chest. His eyes are on Steve, but he’s not looking at him. He’s looking through him, like he’s somewhere else right now. Like he’s spiraling into every single bad place his mind can take him right now.

Steve recognizes it for what it is — a panic attack.

“Eddie,” Steve tries, forgetting politeness as he moves to the edge of Eddie’s bed and kneels against the mattress. He reaches out to rest his hand on Eddie’s shoulder — to give him a point of contact, something to focus on. Something to ground him. It’s what usually helps Steve whenever he’s having a panic attack, finding an anchor, to bring him back down.

Eddie’s hand flies out to grasp at Steve’s wrist, and Steve lets him pull it from his shoulder so that he can curl his fingers around Steve’s palm instead. His grip is tight, nails biting into Steve’s skin, but Steve doesn’t care.

“You’re safe,” Steve reassures. “You’re safe and I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eddie nods, but Steve isn’t so sure his words have reached him. Not when he still looks so panicked, and his breathing is still coming out too fast.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “Take a deep breath,” he instructs.

Eddie’s eyes settle onto Steve’s face, still hazy but doing better at focusing. Steve smiles at him, nods encouragingly. “Come on, do it with me, deep breath in.”

Steve makes a show of inhaling again, holding up his fingers to count to three before he starts to let it all back out in an exhale. He goes through it twice before Eddie catches on and starts to mirror him.

They follow the pattern until finally Eddie’s breathing returns to normal and the panic seems to subside.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s shoulders slump and his head drops forward, his hair hanging like a curtain around his face. Steve hasn’t let go of Eddie’s hand yet, and he doesn’t plan to.

Eddie lets out a humorless laugh, but he doesn’t look up. “Depends,” he starts. “Are you going to… to fucking… hit me or shout at me or something?”

Steve’s face screws up, mouth tugging down into a hard frown. “What?” He asks. “Why would I do that? Because you had a panic attack?”

Eddie snorts. “No,” he replies, like he can’t believe that’s what Steve thinks this is about. He stays quiet for a second, two, three. Like he can’t quite bring himself to say it. “Because I— because I kissed you,” he finally breathes.

“Oh,” Steve says softly. He watches Eddie for a moment, doesn’t like that he can’t see his face. He wants to see his face. So, with careful fingers, he reaches out to brush Eddie’s hair back, to tuck it behind his ear.

Eddie’s breath catches as he does, and his gaze flickers up to Steve’s, briefly, before fixing firmly on his lap again.

“Eddie,” Steve starts, “I’m not mad that you kissed me.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in.

When they do, Eddie’s head snaps up. His eyes land on Steve’s, wide and surprised and searching. “You’re not?”

Steve shakes his head. Lets a little smile grace his lips. “Nope,” he confirms. “Not one single bit.”

And, well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? He shuffles a little closer on his knees, presses further into Eddie’s space. “In fact…” he trails off. Does a little searching of his own. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again,” Steve finishes after he’s sure that Eddie isn’t going to push him away.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift this time, the pull together. Steve wants to smooth out the little wrinkle that forms between them.

“Are you… you’re serious?” Eddie asks.

“Serious as a heart attack,” Steve replies.

The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches, then a smile breaks out across his face. “Holy shit, you’re serious,” he says, followed by a breathless little laugh.

Steve can’t help but laugh too, and he nods and starts to tug at Eddie’s hand to pull him in this time. “Yeah,” he says. “Now that that’s been established, you think I could get another one?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s won the lottery. “Jesus christ, yes, yes please,” he says, and the hand not caught in Steve’s comes up to bunch into the front of his sweater as he meets him halfway.

It’s a little offcentered, a little overeager on both of their parts, but it’s perfect.

When they break apart, Eddie presses his forehead against Steve’s. “Were you leaving?” He asks.

“I was,” Steve answers. “I don’t want to now,” he admits.

Eddie chuckles and lets go of Steve only just long enough to peel back the covers Steve had so lovingly tucked around him not too long ago.

“So stay,” Eddie says.

With his welcome so graciously extended like that, who is Steve to say no?

So he stays.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

#asks #cheatghost #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #ways to say i love you prompts #mack writes #macks ficlets #oop got a little carried away with this one lol #also i just wrote this all like over the last 2 hours & i did NOT read it over when i finished lmfao so apologies if there are any mistakes #also did not know how to end it so sorry if its very abrupt LOL

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kaeyx · 7 months

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poly priest skk where dazai sees a new face at the church and he can't help but notice how timid and shy you are when you listen to his sermon causing him to grin and let his sinful thoughts run wild. it isn't until he sees chuuya blushing while speaking with you he decides to give you a private lesson having you bent over the podium all the while chuuya is between your legs getting you off as well as the lords name passes through your lips. however it isn't long until they both switch positions and chuuya fills you up even more with his thick shaft while dazai makes quick work of his silver tongue making your knees buckle because after all it isn't fair if dazai is the only one to help you reach salvation is it???

Adkskca Dazai should not have been allowed in a church, let alone been given a position of power in one. This man is doing the devil's work for him! Chuuya really should stop him at some point, but for some reason he never quite remembers to....

Oh oh imagine! You come there all shy, it's a different church one village over so you don't really know anyone. You're surprised to see the two priests so young, and they explain they're in charge or more or less everything because the abbot is so old. They're nice, the village is way nicer than yours, and you actually like coming here for the sermons and to pray. Of course skk as priests also run the confessions, and get to hear all about your problems. Think you're married off to someone you don't like, who ignores you in favour of their job or drinking...you worry that you're a bad spouse and that's why they don't like you, why they never pay attention to you or bed you. Everyone at home knows because everything gets around in such small towns, and you don't feel welcome in that church and can't pray in peace, the advice of god doesn't reach you.

Chuuya is sympathetic, already fantasizing about treating you so much better, bringing you spare vegetables from their garden and listening to your troubles outside of confession. But Dazai? Dazai is seeing a huge opportunity. He'd nudge you towards them every day through "passing down god's will", spending time with you, getting outraged on your behalf and reassuring you that you're doing nothing wrong. But your spouse clearly doesn't see your worth! They don't deserve you, and that village doesn't deserve you either. Slowly getting you more used to his advances and egging Chuuya on too...

#asks.answered #dazai.bsd #chuuya.bsd #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #priest!chuuya #priest!dazai #SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY LOL

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pinkieroy · 21 days

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Liliana deadbeat mother of all time for real

#did she know??#well she told you to run #so deadbeat mother of her to want something from the kid she left 25 years ago #you have no right to be angry afsgsvhshs #but you are anyway because you don't want to face the fact that you are the one who fucked up the relationship #(i'm not going to project onto this last observation i'm in public 🫥)#it's so funny and sad because she really thinks she did the right thing by her daughter that that was her only option #that she was carving a better future for them both for everyone like them #she is so far into it she can't see the situation through her daughter's eyes #i don't think she is even ready to try #this whole post is in the tags #sorry i got carried away #i would have typed it on the actual post if i knew lol #cr spoilers #critical role #bells hells

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divinestranger · 8 months

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character of the year every year

#31 minutos #juan carlos bodoque #sorry i see that request in my inbox and im gonna do it!!!!!!#i just started on this because my internet went out and got carried away LOL

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spaceyflowersart · 1 year

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CHAINSAW MAN AU FOR LOOKISM; JOHAN AS AKI !!! PLEASE CHECK OUT THE OG IDEA/POST BY HYUSOLK HERE <3 !!!!

#lookism #johan seong #SORRY IM SCREAMING BC IM SUPER PROUD OF HOW THIS CAME OUT!!!!!!!!#SHOUTOUT TO HYUSOLK FR FOR THE OG IDEA #ALSO THANKFUL FOR MYSELF FOR FEELIN LIKE LISTENING TO CSM OPENING AND BRAINROTTING CSM AU FOR LOOKISM #CAUSE ALL THAT LEAD TO THIS AND AAWHHHHHHH AWGGHHHG [EXPLODES]#ok im normal now. sorry. anyways i meant to redraw other panels as lookism charas mimicking csm style but got carried away-#with johan's and now im both exhausted and glad i put in so much effort #also sorry x3 im. still working on requests i just... had to get out the csm au brainrot..#hm.... wonder if i should make a tag for that in case i drop more art of this #yeah sure why not #lookism csm au #also dont mind the manga tones(?) i have on my johan i had to make do cause sketchbook doesnt have anything like that lol #oh god i just realized i wrote lol twice forgive me for being the guy that cant type a sentence without adding lol or lmao due to the fear-#of sounding unfriendly/too serious ;;;;;;;

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celestialkiri · 10 months

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So, when Sophie finds out about that mountain full of monkeys does she get excited and beg Wukong to take her there someday? Does Wukong just sort of decide he's keeping her and bringing her once the journey is over?

Hello hello! I have answered a similar question here and here is the original text (with the same drawing) where I explain when Wukong takes Sophie to Flowers and Fruit Mountain! But about when the journey is over! Wukong does indeed decide that Sophie could live at his palace in Flowers and Fruit Mountain but he obviously would ask her opinion first! They have grown much closer at the end of the journey but nothing super romantic has not happened yet. I had this idea that the romance will happen after the journey (so I can draw romantic stuff while these two would wear pretty clothes lol). At the end of the journey, they will become very good friends. Even the best of friends in their own way! I have not come up with a reason why Sophie can not return to our world but she will accept Wukong's invitation to live in his palace as one of his 'advisers' (in reality aka. someone who would deal with his ass when the real advisors are too tired). Years later they will get married!

At the end of the journey, Wukong kind of decides that he wants to marry Sophie if she wants to. He won't tell her about it until 100 years later and is prepared that she would say no and they will remind as friends. Thus in my AU, he will have another deal with Buddha for him to get married sense...well being a monk he can't. In my AU he might even refuse to become a monk but rather something else. His reputation as a great Sage and a hero will still stay! He will get a lot of respect but after he's more chill and has a better grip on morals lol

#sorry for the long post #I got carried away lol #might change some things maybe #but this would be the base of their story #their romance story would begun after the journey #ittw sun wukong #sun wukong #jttw sun wukong #jttw tag #personal questions #journey to the west #jttw reader #ittw reader #sun wukong x reader

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ghoularaki · 2 years

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why not write some kazutora for me, bestie 👀

the knife's edge

i got you bestie 🔪

tw knife play, dubcon, brat reader, yandere ex kazutora

requests are OPEN

After spending years in prison, Kazutora had mellowed out. Though you were an unexpected factor in his equation of healing. It had been years since he had seen you, splitting before doing his time. He knew it was his own fault for why you both parted. To say his emotions were turbulent would be an understatement. Despite that, he had put that behind him. It wasn’t a messy break up in any way. If anything, the process was too clean, especially at the time.

About a week after Kazutora had been released did he see you again. With time your beauty had grown. You no longer had the girlish charm that came with your previous age, but now had bloomed into a more mature woman, a cute twinge in your smile.

You had been hanging around Takemichi which shocked Kazutora. In the past you had abhorred anything to do with Toman. That must have been something he also missed while in prison as you waved with a boisterous grin, arm in arm with the slight man. When reaching the man, your smile dimmed to shy and coy.

While knowing it was merely a middle school relationship, Kazutora’s butterfly heart fluttered its meek wings. How could a man not fall for such saccharine. Instinct for monarchs to fly towards nectar, to live it must feed on the sweet.

If Kazutora was a lesser man he would have ripped Takemichi’s arm from yours, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that Takemichi only had his eyes on Hina, yet a burn festered. Spying how his eyes darted to you two entangled, you discretely shifted away from the other man. That was enough of a hint to Kazutora that he still had an effect on you.

Good, was all he could think.

The exchange was short. Nothing more came out of it other than sharing numbers and a promise to keep in touch between you and him. Takemichi had other business with him, but you faded in the background when gang and Mikey related topics appeared. Your behavior rang alarm bells he decided to ignore. He didn’t care besides if he could repair what was left behind.

It would be months before Kazutora even got a whiff of you again. The promise to keep in touch was left in the air on both sides. For someone who swore to keep away from gang relations, imagine Kazutora’s surprise to find you in one of Kisaki’s clubs.

You wore a slip dress in a shade of pink that made your complexion glow. Placing your tilted head on your woven hands, you gazed up at the bartender with doe eyes. The bartender laughed at your mannerisms to which you scowled. Bratty as always.

Having not gotten your way, you jumped from the stool to find another person to bother. Surveying the club, you accidentally locked eyes with Kazutora’s. Blinking at seeing him here. dread filled you. Swearing under your breath you pivoted to get lost within the crowd.

Prowling like a tiger, Kazutora stalked you through the gaggle of drunken bodies. His eyebrow twitched at how skittish you’re being. Last time he had seen you, you were all sunshine and giggles. And yet here you were running away as if you did something bad, something you weren’t supposed to.

The fear in your gaze fueled him. Habits and nature were hard to break; humans were built for endurance hunting. Lets see how far you can run.

Kazutora let people bump into him as he spied the hint of your hair fluttering behind you. You make it to a pair of doors, palms on the cool metal. Glancing behind you to observe where he is, pushed it open when you saw no trace of him.

He licked his canines when you unintentionally cornered yourself. Quickening his feet to follow you in, his hand caught the door before it could completely shut. Said door slammed shut with a resonating crack. Whipping your head towards the noise, Kazutora stood at the beginning of the hall. Shoulders shaking at how you trembled at his presence. He hasn’t done anything and terror has taken over you.

Stumbling backwards as if being hunted by a bear, you kept your gaze firmly to his form.

“Why you running, L/n? I haven’t done anything,” the unspoken yet hung in the air of the stuffy, dim hallway.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” was all you could respond back.

Bodies mirrored each other in a macabre dance. Every step he took forward, you took back.

“Answer the question. Be not afraid, I just miss you.” Likened to an angel his words meant to sooth, strike you down.

Every movement echoes in the vacant hallway. At the other end of the corridor lies your freedom, but something compels you to stay. Maybe you miss him too, but this is not the time.

“Kazutora please leave. It is not safe here.”

“Not safe here as in this hallway or the fact you are playing in Kisaki’s territory? Now answer my question, why are you running.” His tone was law.

Picking at your cuticles, you used the sting to ground you. The debate going on inside your mind was visible on your visage. Inhaling deep, the musk of the closed quarters filled your heaving lungs.

“It’s complicated.”

Kazutora had mellowed out, but the defiance sparked the long buried ire that sat in his belly. Sick of this game, he rushed you until your back bounced against the wall at his force. Air truly left your lungs this time, you capillaries about to burst. Gripping your throat with his large hand, he shook you as he seethed.

“You can do better than that.”

Tears bubbled in your ducts, desperate to get out of this without dangering both of you. “I can’t say!”

Pressing his body closer until you were completely crowded, his thigh nudged against your core. He questioned you again but you shook your head. Growling, he reached into his back pocket, flickered open a pocket knife. Kazutora pressed it to your cheek, not hard enough to draw blood but enough the threat was there. Even with a knife basically at your throat and your constant refusal, it clicks to him.

Smiling wide, so wide it was uncanny, he giggled out, “your Kisaki’s bitch.”

The statement was so matter of fact, your mouth agape at his conclusion. Insulted at him even insinuating that, you barked, “it’s not like that.”

“Not like what, huh? You’re not his whore? Then why are you in his club, sneaking away from me like you have something to hide. Afraid I will tattle on you to Takemichi.”

“He has nothing to do with this. Neither does Kisaki and especially not you. I haven’t seen you in years, Kazutora, you have no right to question me like this.”

“If you’re putting Toman in jeopardy then yeah, I have every fucking right.” He brought his face close to yours, his minty breath swirling around your hazed mind.

Keeping eye contact even with the knife still on your cheek, you refused to give in. Tapping the blade against the flesh as if he was contemplating what to do with you.

“Guess I’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you.”

You flinched away from him, frantic to escape. You were not going to fuck him when any of Kisaki’s men could walk right through either doors. Despite your struggling, Kazutora already made his decision. Tightening his grip on your throat, his palm hot on your windpipe.

“Don’t make this hard for me, love. In the end I will get what I want.”

Trailing the knife down from your cheek down to your cleavage. Your nipples pebbled from fright and the cold of the blade. Kazutora took notice of it, bringing the tip to your areolas and pressing down. You tried as you might to stay still in fear he will cut the sensitive skin.

“Kazutora,” you whimpered out.

Looking up from your breasts, he quirked up a brow, “ready to answer?”

Shaking your head, you steel your face to endure whatever he set out for you. If he was stubborn, you could be pigheaded.

Done with his fun, the knife creeped down further until it reached the hem of your short dress. It hooked onto the fabric to pull the silk up until your white, lacy panties were exposed. Along with the undergarment being displayed so was the wet spot, but you were sure he could feel the slick through his pants.

“Aw and I thought this was supposed to be an interrogation, what a whore,” he teased.

You abstained from giving into his taunts and turned your head to the side. Not liking that, he harshly cuts the right leg hole to your panties. Taking his thigh away for a second to let the torn fabric fall away to expose your glistening cunt. The intact part of your panties hangs pathetically from your left ankle.

Pointing the knife towards your cunny, he inched the tip towards your clit. Sharply you glanced down to your own crotch, trembling.

“I wonder how much of my blade I can fit in your cunt before you scream for me to take it out. How sweet you’ll cry when you clench down in fear just to cut yourself up. I won’t even have to do anything.”

He was practically drooling at the image of you bleeding, crying for him to stop and to help sooth the pain. How slick your cunny would be with your own blood and arousal as lube. Though he doesn’t want to completely break you, he still wants to cage you in his embrace. To rekindle the ashes long since lost their spark.

As you frantically whimper that he’s scaring you, he tilted his head, “another time then.”

He takes his hand away from your throat to place the knife against the fragile skin. Using the now free hand to unbutton and unzip his black jeans. Forgoing any foreplay to open you up, he wanted it to hurt. His bulge was prominent. Sighing in relief as his tight pants were starting to hurt his pulsing dick. He pulled his boxers and pants down enough to expose the appendage.

The tip of his cock was a harsh red with precum coating it. He gripped the base to bring it to your hole. “This is your last chance, love. Talk or else I’m fucking you until your braindead.”

Taking that as a challenge, you tilt your chin up, “as if your baby dick could do anything.”

His eyes darken while he huffed out an unamused laugh from the side of his mouth. Lifting your left leg up to expose yourself more, he pops his tip into your unprepped hole. A short scream squeezes out your rib cage. Kazutora wasn’t the biggest man in the world, but he was thick. The stretch burned as he bullied his way deep into your cunt. Arousal coated his cock from your body trying to make up for the pain.

At the sound of you screeching out again, he pressed the blade deeper until a bead of blood bubbled up. “For someone who doesn’t want to be caught, you sure are being loud.”

Crinkling your nose at his taunt, “fuck you.”

“I already am,” he laughed.

Not waiting to bottom out inside you, he started shallow thrusts getting deeper with every shove. With each drag the burn started to rub away. Forcing himself his way to your g-spot, pleasure clouded your mind. You forget where you are as you moaned out loud.

Kazutora dug the knife into your neck more until a trail of blood leaks down your neck and into your cleavage. He watched as the blood trickled out. Flicking his tongue out, he catches the liquid roses. Licking up from your breasts and up to where the knife rests on your windpipe.

You moaned at the image and his tongue lapping at your sensitive flesh.

“This is barely a punishment if you keep moaning like a whore.”

Embarrassed, you bring a hand to cover your mouth, remembering where you were. You locked eyes with his golden hues before looking at the doors. The pounding of the bass in the club leaked out from under the door. Dropping the knife with a clatter on the cement floor, he pried your hand away and gripped your cheeks.

“Look at me,” he commands.

You nodded your head. Try as you may, you were under his spell. With your back scraping against the wall, it was hard to ignore why you once loved this man. In a moment of weakness, you reach over to tuck a loose strand that fell in front of his face.

“Fuck,” he grunted out.

Gripping your neck again, he goes faster. His thrust became sloppy. You whimpered knowing he was close but you were nowhere near him. Frantically you rocked your hips to his pace. He laughed at your pathetic attempt to get off too.

“Please, please. I wanna cum too,” was all you could drawl out.

“You can if you tell me why you’re in Kisaki’s club,” he huffed out, thrusts losing rhythm.

“I can’t! I can’t!” you babbled out.

He slowed his hips in punishment. You caught his eyes as you started crying in desperation from both wanting to cum and him not taking your warning.

“Well I guess we will be here all night.”

At his words, the sound of the door being fiddled with echoed in the hallway. Pupils bouncing at the noise, you tried to scramble away.

Crowding you to him, he amps his pistoning once again. You slapped against his back with balled fists. Nevermind cumming, all you care about is not getting caught.

Kazutora couldn’t care less at your frantic movement and kept pounding into you. If anything, he hoped whoever was on the other side sees you being claimed by the opposing gang. Fuck gang wars, you were his no matter what. He would chase you until the end of time. In each timeline you were his to love and claim.

Wanting to feel you gush on his cock, he gave the mercy of reaching his hand down to rub circles into your neglected clit. Finally receiving attention after the only stimulation was the bump of his pelvic bone with each thrust, it takes a few swipes to cum. Mixed with the fear and his swirling thumb, you collapsed into him.

He whined out at how hard you clench down. Your climax dominoed his own release. Kazutora buried himself deep into your cunt, firm against your cervix as he claimed your walls.

He kept himself firmly in you as you both calm down from your climaxes. Heavy breathing filled the stuffy corridor. The scent of sex coated the air. The hand on your throat reached around to cradle your head to his shoulder. Reluctantly he pulled his cock out from your warm walls. He leaned his head down to catch how his cum leaked out from your puffy, abused cunny.

Slipping his wet cock back into his pants, he kept his grip on your neck. Fingernails jabbing into your nape remind you of the man before, unchanged and unwavering. You glared up at him, the weight of the situation burdensome.

“Don’t think we are done here. I will follow you until you give me the answer I want.”

#yandere tokyo revengers #yandere kazutora #kazutora x reader #kazutora smut #yandere kazutora x reader #tokyo revengers smut #kazutora x you #kazutora x y/n #yandere smut #tw yandere #sorry this was so long i got carried away lol #tokyo revenger request

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