#and yet somehow this results in future dates

[cheezy-selfships]

I am aware that the whole "kidnapping his love interest" is a major part of Bowser' character, and an appeal to most people I suppose, but I want all the selfshippers to take a moment and imagine;

S/I intentionally getting into a situation where they're kidnapped

S/I finding a way to get to Bowser's castle undetected because they WANT to see more of this huge awesome koopa

Catching Bowser's attention as they are the only one looking at him with starry eyes and a beaming grin

S/I FLIRTING WITH BOWSER VIA CHEESY PUNS and it working (to start a friendship atleast and then *winkity wonk wonk*)

Or, and I want you to imagine the sheer comedy potential of this idea:

(Royal) S/I kidnapping Bowser, as they assume this must be a Koopa Courting Tradition™️, given how often Bowser does it to Peach.

I live for the idea of confused Bowser having a human PINNING after him and trying to romance him... Just

CONFUSED KOOPA KING!!!!!

#I actually really love this last idea it's like MISUNDERSTANDING OF GRAND PROPORTIONS!!!! #and yet somehow this results in future dates #Peach is confused and yet relieved that she can have some PEACE already #🌟🌋bow wow wow sir💐 #bowser x reader #selfship headcanons #bowser x s/i #if I had the energy I'd write something and tbh maybe I will #cheezy imagines

[w3bgrl]

90 degrees!

synopsis: hyunjin and jisung, with a habit of arguing, make the poor decision of starting a fight the night before evaluations. not just evaluations - but evaluations for jyp’s new trainee survival show; stray kids. this doesn’t go over well for them, but in hindsight, it was the best decision they could’ve made that day.

date: circa late 2016 to mid 2017

word count: 1.3k

featuring: kang juyeon, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin

warnings: hyunsung being mean to each other

a/n: all members mentioned without shoehorning it in fuck yeah (also not sure how i’m feeling abt this -.- )

it was in the early hours of the morning when juyeon finally said “last time!”

the boys behind her sighed a mixture of relief and distain for their last run of the choreography details before evaluations. they had been polishing it up for hours now and the members honestly couldn’t see a difference in the moves anymore. yet minho, the skilled dancer who stood the closest to her in order to help with monitoring the weak spots, was the only one who actually seemed up for the last round. the rest of the boys were understandably exhausted and ready to be in their beds, but if they wanted to be the trainee group to make the show, they needed to be the best. and being the best took a lot of practice.

“minho, do you want to lead this one?”

the older boy agreed with a toothy grin and took her spot in the middle as she stepped to the side, squatting down to rest her legs while she watched. minho counted them in with the smile lingering on his lips and the second he began to dance a serious look plastered over his previously enthusiastic manner. it was like the choreography just took over - his aura totally changed.

juyeon pulled her eyes from minho’s obvious expertise with hopes that he would help lead future practices and focused for a moment on jeongin, eyeing the sequence he struggled with the most - but the jarring misstep beside him ripped her eyes away.

jisung seemed to have stepped on hyunjin’s foot during their transition and said something to him, resulting in hyunjin saying something back. juyeon huffed. hyunjin had a habit of somehow starting arguments out of nowhere, specifically with jisung. they had a hard time getting along most of the time and had a few altercations in the past, such as the time hyunjin may or may not have ‘accidentally’ spilled his drink on jisung. but because of their frequent quarrels juyeon had gotten good at putting them in their place - especially when they’re doing the last runthrough.

“excuse me.” she used a stronger voice than usual to make sure they heard her but not loud enough to disturb the members actually doing the choreography. however, the arguing pair were too caught up in their tantrum to think about the other people in the room and continued making remarks toward one another.

“i wouldn’t have to dodge you if you could do it correctly” hyunjin snapped

“boys.”

jisung’s lip pulled into a sneer, “oh, yeah, cause you’re such hot shit.”

“better than you, that’s for sure.”

“hey.” juyeon was now speaking in her chest voice, projecting enough that the other members were stealing glances while still trying to keep up with practice.

“at least i can rap! it’s a real good thing you’re pretty because if not you’d be nothing more than a backup dancer your whole career.”

jisung’s retort was finally the last straw, as now she was more angry that they were ignoring her. juyeon stood, and for the the first time ever - even for chan, the members heard her shout.

“hey!!”

the bickering boys whipped their heads in her direction, as did the ones who had been practicing diligently. all eyes were on juyeon as she walked in quick, swift strides to the door, holding it open with an unfaltering glare toward the accused.

“go.”

still steaming from the words exchanged, jisung and hyunjin slumped out the door, hands in pockets and gaze avoiding the older girl. juyeon then shut it behind them swiftly without slamming it on the hinges leaving the rest of the boys with their mouths open.

“i’ve never heard her shout before” changbin muttered

chan sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his thumbs. “me neither”

the boys fell completely silent as they listened in to hear her scolding them. but honestly, the more they tried to listen, the more they couldn’t really hear anything.

“what do you think she’s saying?” seungmin asked openly for anyone who had an answer

“probably laying down the law.” minho chuckled and took a gulp of his water “i wonder if she’ll come back without them.”

silence fell over the room again as they leaned in to listen once more. still, nothing. with a grumble from his stomach, felix pulled his attention from the door and sat on the floor next to his bag with sweat still dripping down his temples. he really never thought he’d ever see juyeon so mad - she was so well-mannered and typically pretty peaceful. all he could think is how relieved he was to not be on the receiving end of her discipline. maybe she wasn’t so scary, but having let her down would be enough in itself.

little did he know - his intuition was stronger than he thought.

juyeon stood wordlessly in front of the younger boys with her arms folded tight against her chest, eyes more annoyed than enraged. babysitting is tough enough, it’s even worse when they’re moody teenage boys.

“noona, i have to look out for him -” juyeon interrupted him.

“i don’t care. i didn’t ask.”

hyunjin’s courage fell along with his gaze and he opted to watch the laces of his shoes instead.

“listen to me.” the older girl spoke with such authority “i don’t care what happened or why it happened, and i also don’t care what your problem is with each other.” she divided her stern glare evenly between them “what i do care about is this team, and there is no room for whatever your problems are. if we make-”

juyeon completely stopped for a second before correcting herself “when we make evaluations tomorrow and go to the show, we are proving to jyp that we deserve to debut together as a team. and when we do, you two will get to be together every minute of every day for at least the next 7 years. so here are your choices: you can either apologize to each other now and resolve your issues by tomorrow, or you can let the trainers know that you will not be attending the evaluation. does that make sense?”

the boys nodded silently with their eyes down, hoping - praying that juyeon would just lighten up a bit. it was very uncommon for her to be this…unfriendly - it was very uncomfortable. she didn’t look like she had this brazenness in her, and yet the younger boys now cowered before her. still, she stood in front of them expectantly.

“well?”

jisung was the first to speak as he hadn’t been directly berated like hyunjin did. “right now? i-in front of you?”

she nodded.

jisung and hyunjin looked at each other with an emotion that couldn’t be described in one word; a mixture of annoyance, cowardice, shame, and regret. in unison they began to say sorry, tipping their heads toward each other in a weak excuse for a bow - at least in juyeon’s book.

“90 degrees”

the boys heeded her word and quickly bent at the waist, the crowns of their heads nearly knocking each other as they bowed.

“thank you.” she let out a breath, the stern look on her face ceasing just a hint. she then nodded toward the practice room “now for them, too.”

the crack of the practice door being opened stopped all the boys in their tracks, halting conversations between the members as they all waited for the culprits to emerge.

jisung entered in front of hyunjin while juyeon stepped off to the side. the humbled boys walked toward the center of the practice room with pink cheeks from embarrassment. they looked akin to puppies with their tails tucked between their legs. together, they bowed - 90 degrees - to the members.

“sorry for how we acted. it won’t happen again.”

the rest of the boys were stagnant until the pair stood back up and all eyes shifted to juyeon who had waited quietly with her hands clasped in front of her. once she noticed everyone looking at her, she bowed as well.

“i’m sorry for yelling. i shouldn’t do that.”

jisung and hyunjin took note of her 90 degree bow.

#♡ billie #skz oc #stray kids oc #stray kids #stray kids 9th member #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #jisung imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #han jisung imagines #juyeon is a woman of principles and respect (￣^￣)ゞ #sound familiar? (°▽°) #♡ hyunjusung #kpop added member #kpop oc #kpop addition

[trulyumai]

Kisses and Ceramics

Synopsis: You decided to go to an Arts and Wines studio with Nanami, who looks displeased with his end result. Luckily, his adoring (future), wife, is there to comfort him.

Pairing: Nanami x Reader

Warnings: None (Just a Fluff Overload)

Authors Note: I thought of this cute little blurb while studying for my exam and I just had to write it before I forgot! That and to procrastinate my studying, but shhh!

Enjoy this fluffy piece!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Nanami wondered if it was a mistake coming here. 

Sitting across from him was you; with your tongue peeking out as you lightly pressed a brush against a bowl you had displayed so proudly. Swiftly and slowly making pink flower designs on the white ceramic, you didn’t notice the man's sour mood just yet.  

His cup sat pathetically, it was uneven and bumpy. he didn’t dare put more effort into it,afraid he would somehow make it worse

It looked like a child scribbled lines on it, sneezing as they traced upon the cup making the blue vertical stripes come out uneven; sloppy. 

Wincing he grabbed the wine glass just beside him, sipping it down in one go before staring back at his disaster in front of him. 

Noticing the blonde haired man hesitancy, you swallowed. 

“Everything okay, Kento?” Slightly smiling, you put on a worried face. 

Maybe asking him to go was a bad idea, he wasn’t much into arts and crafts and you should have taken the hint when you first brought it up to him 

He didn’t exactly seem… ecstatic… to go. 

Recalling back you remembered when it came to fruition 

 The day had just ended, you both were lying comfortably on the plush couch adorning the middle of your living room.

His arm was around your shoulders, while your head was leaning comfortably on his chest. 

It came to you in the spur of the moment, jumping up and startling him you blurted it right out. 

“Kento! We should dine and paint this weekend! Satoru- he went with his date last week and he said it was really fun!”

Squinting at the name of the white haired man, he had to resist letting out a sigh. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he made anything. Painting? It really wasn’t his forte, but you sat there staring at him 

Looking at him with those glossy orbs of yours and who was he to say no to such a face? 

Putting on the best expression he could muster, he stroked your cheek, placing his hand on your chin tilting it upwards.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” leaning in he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, savoring the sweet and minty taste before pulling back, glancing once more at the television. 

The sound of laughter brought you back, the couples around you giggled as they compared crafts, hugging and kissing each other often. 

“Kento,” you giggled, pointing at his cup with a dainty finger. 

“Let me see, it can’t be as bad as you’re making it-” 

“Absolutely not.” With a firm hand he pushed your finger back to its space. 

“Please? I swear I won’t make fun!” Bottom lip protruding you talked once more.

“Pleaaaaaase, Ken?” 

That was all it took. With a sigh, he squinted his eyes, grabbing the poor excuse of a mug and handed it over.

“Thank youuu!” You sang, taking it and going over each divet and bump with care. 

“It’s great! It has more personality than any of theres I bet,” she eyed the other couple by them, who he noticed had painted the cups a solid yellow. 

“Satoru doesn’t have anything on th-

“Don’t say it,” he mumbled, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. 

He remembered Gojos cups, as they were shoved in his face the night prior.

It was frustratingly perfect, glazed with a sheen and a light blue color adorning its circumference. 

“See if you can do better!” The white haired man had laughed, loud and arrogant as usual and his urge to punch him was strong. 

“Satoru,” he heard you behind him, and relaxed his shoulders.

“No showing off! but how did you get it so shiny?!” 

Staring at you now his eyes softened. 

You held it with such care, turning it slowly to admire each and every groove. 

“Don’t forget to put your name on the bottom, honey,” 

Looking up you met his gaze, it was sweet to see him already staring, with loving eyes and a light smile instead of a frown.

He hummed in agreement, taking back the cup delicately, no longer hating how rough it felt.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, placing his finished project next to yours he leaned forward, leaving  a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’ll send a picture to Gojo, he’ll wanna see em!” 

He sighed once more 

He was never going to live this down. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#JJK #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #Gojo #fluff #anime #i should go back to studying now

[yanderes-galore]

A romantic Tanjiro concept from Demon Slayer, please?

Surprised I haven't done this yet, lol

Yandere! Tanjiro Kamado Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Delusional behavior, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Slight manipulation via guilt tripping, Obsession at first sight, Paranoia, Isolation, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Tanjiro is such an honest soul.

He's probably the type you won't even notice his yandere tendencies at first.

He can't lie and is always so kind and appears so innocent towards you.

He's so naive and forward he probably could not hide anything from you if he tried.

Tanjiro may also be a hopeless romantic and a family yandere.

He just believes you two love each other and in the future, when there's no demons, you can be a family!

As a result he's no doubt a delusional yandere.

I feel Tanjiro would overall be a docile yandere.

He probably couldn't lie to you without you noticing.

He just... isn't that kind of manipulative type.

He could emotionally manipulate his darling but even that isn't fully on purpose.

Tanjiro just clings to you because he feels you're like family to him.

He isn't very violent unless he has to defend you from a threat.

Tanjiro would also be a yandere who'd most likely not kill out of jealousy, if at all.

He gets jealous, yes, but it's more like the pouty kind of jealous.

He really isn't that bad, just persistent.

Tanjiro would also grow more attached if you cared for Nezuko.

There's many ways you could've met Tanjiro.

Maybe he saved you from a demon and you became friends ever since.

Maybe you work at one of the manors and help Tanjiro when he's injured after missions.

Or maybe you're a Demon Slayer yourself?

These are just some ways you could've met and gotten close to Tanjiro.

Tanjiro is someone mostly attracted to caring/familial traits.

Things like caring for him, caring for Nezuko, or even sympathizing with demons despite your job.

Anything that shows you have good intentions or are a good person will attract Tanjiro to you the fastest.

Tanjiro is definitely an obsession at first sight person.

He's also incredibly loyal and devoted to his love.

I want to say he'd be bashful and shy but if anything in reality he's mostly blunt.

Tanjiro would be very open about his feelings towards you.

He's not afraid to tell you compliments and how you make him feel.

He isn't ashamed of admitting he feels jealous when you speak to others.

Honestly, Tanjiro would do almost anything for you if it means you'll love him.

As I said before he truly believes in love to the point of being a hopeless romantic.

You may not have feelings for him now... but he's convinced you will at some point down the road!

He's a bit more grounded than Zenitsu would be and isn't going to really chase you everywhere.

Well... not to the same degree.

Tanjiro would follow you around at times to make sure you aren't "ambushed", even more so if you're a Slayer like him.

Tanjiro would not let a demon touch you.

He'd cut them down before they have a chance.

Tanjiro's big goal with you is certainly to have a family somehow.

He is such a family man due to growing up in a big family.

He wants to be your husband in the future.

He may even achieve such a goal since he's so sweet before you notice anything.

It's hard to point out the more toxic traits in him but I can come up with a few.

First is his emotional manipulation.

Intentional or not, it occurs when he is jealous or worried for your safety.

He wants to be the one to keep you safe and wishes you'll rely on him.

He wants you out of harm and would take a blow to protect you just to make sure you don't spill a drop of blood.

If anything I can see his yandere behavior showing up later on.

Like, by the time you two are adults and dating/married, that's when the worst of it is.

Maybe Tanjiro becomes obsessive about keeping you home.

He wants you as his little house spouse and you're most likely coerced into it.

Tanjiro tries not to appear "forceful" when he has you stay home.

He provides for you, gives you everything you could ever want.

He allows you outside in like a yard or something but never too far without him.

He's promised since you both were young that he'd protect and care for you.

So why do you need to go out so often anyways?

You can just stay at him and he'll come back to pepper you in kisses and affection!

You won't have to lift a finger.

For some, this is a dream.

For others, a nightmare.

Tanjiro removes your autonomy once you two are officially together.

He doesn't get why you'd want to leave home anyways.

He picked an isolated cabin just for you and him.

Now... it'll just be you and him!

There's no need to worry anymore, there's no longer any demons to harm either of you.

All you have to do is focus on him and his adoration...

You don't have to think of anyone else!

Just keep your eyes on him...

He protect, provide, and defend you with his life...

All you need to do?

Never go outside ever again.

Overall, Tanjiro is a subtle yandere.

He's sweet, caring, and seemingly innocent.

That is until you step closer...

Becoming trapped in his darker adoration.

#yandere demon slayer #yandere tanjiro x reader #yandere tanjiro kamado

[aeor-is-for-reccing]

MISCOMMUNICATION: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have miscommunication! Check under the cut for 13 fics that range from hilarious to spicy as a result of not being able to properly communicate, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

displacement by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (12834, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Just after the peace talks and with no word from M9, Essek gets displaced into the future. Somehow this Caleb is travelling with Essek and love him.

Reccer says: I love how Essek thinks that future!Essek is deceiving the Nein, but no! They love him and forgive him!!

Indecency by RainDayDecaf (5898, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Six times Essek and Caleb accidentally engaged in romantic courtship, and one or two times when their friends helped out with the real deal.

Reccer says: This story has amazing characterization and does an excellent job of highlighting ways cultural differences create miscommunications (that may be fully intended in some cases). It’s great!

Just a Little Bit Longer, Love by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (28738, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Meeting for the first time in months, Caleb and Essek spend the evening together cuddling and discuss their relationship.

Reccer says: They are trying so hard to communicate and words come out wrong and they love each other and I love them!!

I think of all the education that I’ve missed (but then my homework was never quite like this) by MarsBar2019 (15118, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek disguises himself and sits in on Caleb’s lecture. They flirt and take it to office.

Reccer says: Really hot roleplay and I love how Caleb is portrayed as a teacher!

OPERATION: HOT BOI LIBERATION (or: How I Spent My Spring Break in Rexxentrum, by Verin of Den Thelyss) by Catgirlthecrazy (6404, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Verin is sure he needs to rescue his brother from the empire wizard that must have kidnapped and mind controlled him.

Reccer says: I love seeing the m9 from an outsider's perspective. All of Verin's misunderstandings are hilarious. This makes great use of dramatic irony.

the wolves of my want by SaltCore (26071, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Set post campaign, through the trial, Aeor and Caleb settling in Rexxentrum. Essek pines while on the run trying not to bother Caleb or put the Nein in danger.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Sex Education by sociallychallengednerd (25487, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Caleb and Essek start dating, but it takes a while for either of them to notice

Reccer says: I love Caleb and Essek geeking out together. Jester and Essek's friendship is so sweet. All the modernizations fit so well. The references are so funny.

found the place to rest my head by glossolali (2717, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek doesn’t know how to comfort Caleb after destroying the T-dock.

Reccer says: Amazing hurt/comfort.

The Heart is Hard to Translate by CatgirlTheCrazy (6964, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Caleb’s voice is soft, yet paradoxically echoes around the space as if the salon has become a mausoleum. Essek shifts about uncomfortably. “Well—yes, I suppose that is a way to describe it.”

Reccer says: An incredible representation of an important conversation, and the miscommunications that can be rife within. One of my favorite fics and series ever!

Cradle Robbing by TheLordOfLaMancha (4409, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Yussa catches Caleb using dunamancy and wants to meet Essek. But after being introduced, Yussa has some concerns about Caleb and Essek's relationship. Misunderstandings abound.

Reccer says: This is so funny

An Evening To Remember by Interrobang (1755, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb both try to surprise each other. Hjinks ensue

Reccer says: I liked it!

The following two fics each received two recs!

eleventh hour by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (3486, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Thinking that it would be his last chance, Essek kisses Caleb at the Mighty Nein Goodbye Party.

Reccer 1 says: So soft and sweet! Reccer 2 says: It is so cute and sweet and classic m9 to forget who knows what.

Kiss Me Goodbye by LivThael (22450, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Modern AU where Caleb and Essek meet on a hookup app but things get messy when feelings get involved.

Reccer 1 says: I liked it! Reccer 2 says: I will eat anything with this setup with bread and butter but this is an especially great specimen. Misunderstandings and pining and hot sex, amazing

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with fics featuring Empire Sibs!

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr fic recs #fan fiction rec list #aeor is for lovers #critical role fan fiction #cr fic #cr fics

[avacoleman]

when the lights go out || a firstprince fic

summary: Henry Fox’s career is in crisis and his dating life isn’t faring much better either.  After a chance encounter with a charming man becomes memorable for all the wrong reasons, Henry throws himself into his next assignment: writing the memoir of a beloved C-list actor. Henry, however, knows Alex best for the role he played as his random, awkward one-night stand. Henry enters their professional partnership keen on keeping their relationship just that. But after Henry confesses that their hookup was less than spectacular, Alex concots an arrangement that Henry is unable to resist. In addition to ghostwriting Alex’s life story, Henry will teach him a thing or two about satisfying a man.  As they spend months out on the road together, they must decide if the connection between them is yet another story worth telling.

chapter 5/8 || rated e || read on ao3 *updates every tues. and fri. *

Reno, NV Reno Pop Culture Con They sit around in Henry’s room playing card games, eating, and watching TV to kill time until Alex has to leave for satellite interviews in his room with outlets on the East Coast. The upcoming Crescent Valley special continues to make headlines, especially as filming is set to start in a few weeks. Henry is both excited and apprehensive about that. It only serves as a reminder that their time together is growing increasingly limited with only three more stops after Reno. Henry straightens up his room a bit from the mess they’ve somehow managed to make in the few hours of they’ve essentially been couch potatoes. In theory, they could have gone out and explored the city. Alex has an appearance tomorrow and the day will more than likely get gobbled up as a result.  All the same, there’s a comfort in being able to have Alex just for himself within these four walls, the two of them only really needing each other to enjoy the day. Henry rolls his suitcase aside in an attempt to tuck it into the corner but it bumps against the nightstand, sending his toiletry bag flying from where it’s perched. Items fall from it, clattering against the floor.

Alex helps him with the mess, his fingers clutching a bottle of lube. 

“I’ve been getting so acquainted with this these last few weeks,” Alex laughs.

“Yes, and I think we’ll successfully manage to teach you an appropriate amount to use. That night in New York, you used a lot.”

Alex cringes a bit.

“I was scared of hurting you. I didn’t mean to go overboard.”

Henry smiles softly and cups Alex’s face, searching his eyes.

“That’s sweet, Alex, and it’s good to be cautious. I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do,” he says sincerely, lowering his hand. “Having a considerate partner is crucial. That’s going to go a long way for the guys you’re with.”

Alex smiles a little and Henry is happy to see his words are able to reassure him.

“May I ask something personal?”

Alex’s brows furrow and he scratches his chin.

“Um, yeah.”

“Have you ever fingered yourself?”

Alex blushes and shakes his head.

“Never got up the courage to. After my big revelation or whatever, I thought about it. You know, what it’d be like to have someone inside me whether it be their fingers or their dick,” he says, shrugging. “It was enough just to fantasize about it. I’ve gotten off thinking about it, but haven’t been able to bring myself to test it firsthand, no.”

Henry nods. “I can understand that. But, if you’re ever able to stop psyching yourself out, I would recommend it. Aside from it simply just feeling good,” he muses, “it’s also a great way to become familiar with your body and potential future partners too. You’ll be better equipped when the time comes to hit the right spot.”

Alex’s brows furrow. “You mean, the prostate?

Henry nods. “Exactly, yes. It might take some prodding, but that’s what you’re looking for. It’ll feel like a little bump.”

Alex seems to digest this information.

“So, you…you do it yourself then sometimes?”

Henry smiles and nods. “Yes, I do. I don’t stop with just my fingers either. Toys can be fun too.”

Alex blinks twice.

“I haven’t even thought about that yet.”

Henry laughs. “Maybe one day I’ll give you an advanced course. For now, we’ll stick to the basics.” He hesitates for a moment. “Before the tour is over, perhaps I can do it to you, if you’d like.”

Alex nods and Henry watches the change in the rise and fall of Alex’s chest, how much deeper he's breathing.

“Definitely. I want that at some point.”

Alex purses his lips. “Would you just stop there?”

Henry raises a brow in question. Alex sighs.

“I mean, I guess what I’m asking is if you’d be up for, you know, screwing me after you opened me up one day.”

Henry pulls in a breath. The thought has crossed his mind far too many times for Henry to count or to ever openly admit to. He simply nods.

“I’d love to, so long as you’d be interested.”

“More than interested, Hen. I want to work up to that. I want you to fuck me.”

Henry’s jaw clenches as a tugging sensation unfurls in the pit of his stomach. He’d take Alex right now, if the timing were right.

“I promise. We’ll make it happen in the next few weeks.”

Between Alex’s stunned expression and the overwhelming feeling of anticipation now coursing through his veins, Henry isn’t sure which one of them is more eager for that day to come.

Henry smiles and pats Alex’s knee. 

“We still have a bit of time before you have to go. Would you maybe like a lesson?” he asks, tapping the bottle still in Alex’s hand as he climbs into bed.

Alex’s eyes rake over Henry’s body, nodding all the while. 

“I want you to work on your pacing and overall technique when fingering. I also want you to find my prostate. See if you can make me come,” Henry says.

Alex looks a bit unsure of himself.

“You’ve got this. I’m right here,” Henry coaxes. “I’ll talk you through it and answer any questions you might have. This is all just practice. Don’t worry.”

Alex squares his shoulders and nods again.

“Yeah, alright.”

Henry gives him a reassuring smile before undressing. He’ll never grow tired of the way Alex looks at him. Henry holds his gaze as he spreads his legs and pushes them back, feet pressed firmly against the bed, hands on his knees.

A glorious blush blooms above the collar of Alex’s shirt and up his neck as he licks his lips and flicks open the lid. He squeezes a bit onto his fingertips, angling his hand so Henry can see.

“Is that good?”

Henry nods. “Perfect, yeah.”

Reassured, Alex looks more confident as he lowers his hand and applies the substance to Henry’s entrance. His touch is light and yet it’s as if Henry can feel him in every part of his body. He hadn’t realized just how keyed up he’s been for this. 

He clenches his jaw and breathes sharply through his nose. Alex must notice as he stops immediately.

“Shit, did I do something wrong?”

Henry shakes his head. “No, love. The exact opposite. Keep going.”

Alex searches his face before continuing. “I think you’re covered pretty well.”

Henry smiles. “Next step now is to open me up.”

The words seem to both terrify and intrigue Alex. He sets the pad of his thumb against Henry and rubs him in a circular motion. Henry sighs, relaxing his body further, stretching out against the bed and pillows. He watches Alex, takes in the look of pure concentration on his face, but also the wonder too as studies the way Henry’s body responds to him. Alex curses under his breath and looks up at Henry, smiling.

Henry is glad to see Alex allowing himself the full experience of this. That first night was so rushed and frantic, Alex was just going through the motions and not savoring any of it. Today, Henry is keen on giving him an entirely different encounter.

“I think…you might be ready. At least for one finger,” Alex says.

Henry nods. “I’d say so too.”

Alex swallows hard and takes a breath before swapping the motion of his thumb for gingerly sliding his index finger in. His face flushes and Henry’s does too as his walls cinch around Alex. He bites back on his lower lip. Alex freezes and looks up at him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Alex says. “It feels tight.”

“That’s okay. That’s perfectly normal,” Henry assures. “Just go slowly. I promise, it’ll be alright. I’ll tell you if it’s not.”

Alex searches his eyes and nods. He pumps his finger slowly, his free hand resting on Henry’s inner thigh. Alex’s eyes are trained on what he’s doing. It’s a bit fascinating to watch him work. Henry’s body relaxes more and more at the intrusion and the tension in Alex’s brow lessens too. His finger works into Henry with far more ease though his pattern is a bit too repetitive.

“Don’t just set rhythm. Change the tempo and angle every now and then,” Henry reminds him.

Alex blushes a bit, but he heeds Henry’s words. Instead of a standard in-out, he switches up his pumps. Henry exhales softly as his body syncs to it.

“You could take another,” Alex says, looking down at his rim before glancing up at him.

Henry moans. “I need it.”

Alex curses and removes his hand for a moment, adding just a drop more of lube to his fingertips before sliding them home inside Henry carefully. He resumes his pumps with his index and middle fingers, switching it up every now and then. His free hand rubs small, soothing circles against Henry’s thigh. Alex seems far more confident now as he quickens his pace, falling into tune with Henry’s body and anticipating what he needs.

“That’s it, darling. Oh, my god,” Henry rasps.

His eyes flutter shut as Alex works his fingers in and out of him, angling his hand in different directions. Henry hums in approval, letting out a gasp as Alex’s fingertips nudge against his prostate.

“Did you feel that?” Henry asks.

“Shit, yeah,” Alex says, perking up a bit. 

“That’s right where you want to focus on ultimately. You can taunt and tease, drag things out with your partner as much as you guys would like, but in the end, that’s what will push them over the edge each and every time.”

Alex strokes his fingers against his prostate experimentally. Henry whimpers, body shuddering. Alex does it again, lightly teasing him. Henry writhes against the bed, completely at his mercy.

“So hot,” Alex says to himself before looking Henry in the eyes. “Can I touch you even more?” 

Henry almost laughs hysterically. How could that even be up for question?

“Please. I want to feel you everywhere I possibly can. I need you, Alex.”

Alex licks his lips, his free hand wrapping around Henry’s cock at once. Henry’s mouth falls open as Alex begins to jerk him off. Henry grabs helplessly at the sheets.

Alex adds a third finger when Henry is wide enough to take it and he thrusts his hand forward. Henry bucks his hips to meet each return. Alex’s other hand is steady on his cock, teasing his slit. Under his arousal is deep pride in seeing how well Alex is applying everything they’ve been covering over the last few weeks.

Alex’s fingers curl inside him, pressing directly on his prostate. Henry cries out, his back arching off the bed as Alex continues to work him over. Henry tugs at the bedding again, a hand reaching back against the wall, scrambling for purchase desperately trying to find something to ground him.

“You’re so sexy like this,” Alex says. “I can tell how badly you want it. How badly you need me to be the one touching you. You’re so desperate for it, baby, my god.”

Henry’s mouth hangs open at his words. It’s the absolute truth.

“You’re incredible, Alex,” he hiccups. “You make me feel...God, I can’t—,” he cuts off and curses, undignified but with little care as his resolve breaks. He gives in to the sensations coursing through him from all sides.

He moans Alex’s name over and over as he comes, begging him not to stop. The man doesn’t. Alex’s fingers press more firmly against that particular spot as his other hand pumps feverishly over his cock. Henry keeps jerking his body forward, chasing the high that is Alex Claremont-Diaz pleasuring him into oblivion.

His eyes are watering, his heart slamming erratically, his breathing ragged by the time his body works through the rising tide washing over him.

Alex removes his hands and all Henry can do is flop back feeling absolutely boneless against the bed, practically seeing stars. He can’t think. His mind is utter mush, his body buzzing. He only has enough energy to turn his head towards Alex’s voice as he speaks.

“That’s how our first night should have gone,” Alex says, settling in beside him.

Henry’s face feels sweaty and he’d bet good money he looks completely wrecked, but Alex’s gaze makes him feel like the most attractive man on Earth. 

“I can’t even tell you how good it feels to know what it sounds like when you come for real.” Alex smiles to himself. “I swear there’s no greater sound in the world than hearing you moan my name like that.” 

Alex leans in and kisses him softly. Henry wants more, but he can’t even speak. He’s too spent, too stunned. Alex is an incredibly quick study and this swagger he possesses in the bedroom is such a turn on.

Alex brushes his nose against Henry’s, his breath soft against his face.

“If I can make you lose it like that with my fingers, just imagine the things I could make you feel when I’m buried inside you,” he says, placing a kiss on his lips again. “When you’re riding my cock, taking every inch of me.” Alex searches his eyes, cupping his cheek and brushing his skin with the side of his thumb.

It’s so soft and in such sharp contrast to the words he’s saying. 

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? For me to fuck you right next time?”

He kisses Henry again, deeper this time. Henry whimpers into his mouth as Alex runs a hand down his back and his ass.

“I’d get you coming in no time, begging for more like the needy good boy that you are.”

“Christ, Alex,” Henry rasps, his body trembling at the mere thought.

Alex gets up just then and Henry wishes he had the strength to protest. All he wants to do now is crawl into Alex’s side and stay burrowed there forever. To have this man pleasure him until the end of time, to make good on the images he’s just planted in his head.

When Alex returns, it’s with a wet cloth that he uses to clean Henry up.

“I fear I may have created a monster with you,” Henry says. His voice sounds different in his own ears. Yet another thing Alex is responsible for wrecking.

Alex smiles as he wipes Henry’s stomach.

“I’d apologize, but I’m too busy mentally patting myself on the back. I don’t know, I feel oddly…proud.”

“You should. I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but I’m impressed. These last few weeks, you’ve been crushing it. You’ve come a long way since the night we met. I soon won’t have anything more to teach you. Then again, my time on the tour will be coming to an end soon anyway and you won’t need me.”

Something almost sad passes in Alex’s eyes.

“Henry, we’ve never–”

Whatever Alex is about to say gets interrupted as Henry’s phone vibrates from its place on the nightstand where he left it to charge.

Henry takes a glance at the screen and bolts upright, unplugging the phone and holding it up for Alex to see Zahra’s name flashing across the screen.

He quickly answers, suddenly very aware of the fact that he’s naked. He fishes around for his underwear as he greets her.

“Hi, Zahra. How are you?” he asks as he finally finds his boxer briefs and slips them on.

“I’m fine, thanks. I tried calling Alex, but he didn’t answer. Is everything alright?” Zahra asked. “Don’t tell me he went off someplace last night.”

“No, no. He’s right here with me, actually. He must have his phone on silent or something.”

Henry puts Zahra on speaker.

“Oh, good, you’re together,” she says, her voice ringing so clearly it’s as if she’s physically in the room with them. A terrifying thought, all things considered.

“Hey, Z,” Alex says. “Where’s the fire?”

“No fire. I have good news for you both. Your editor is very pleased with these preliminary pages. Whatever the hell you two are doing, keep it up.”

Henry and Alex exchange a glance over the phone, both biting back laughs.

“Anyway, that’s all I needed to say and I just wanted to check in, see how things are going on the road.”

“We’re all good. Henry and I are thick as thieves.”

“That’s not the comfort you think it is. I hope you aren’t corrupting him, Alex.”

“Nope, the opposite really. I’m learning so much from the guy. You wouldn’t believe it.”

Henry playfully shoves Alex who sticks out his tongue and winks.

“You’re being weird, but I don’t care enough to find out why.” She pauses. “Okay, I have to run, but keep up the good work. If you all need anything, you know how to reach me.”

She doesn’t offer an actual goodbye; the line goes dead before they can say anything further.

“On a scale of one to nuclear, how badly do you think she’d react if she knew she just gave us further license to keep screwing around?” Alex asks.

Henry taps a finger to the corner of his mouth. “I’m thinking…Earth shattering. Complete annihilation. Total extinction.”

Alex smirks. “Is it bad that that just excites me more?” he asks, moving closer into Henry’s personal space.

Henry’s reaction to him is instant, his pulse quickening.

“I wish you wouldn’t get so hot and bothered when we’ve literally no time for me to make good on it. You start the junket in literally,” he glances at the phone for the time, “sixteen minutes.”

Alex’s eyes glint mischievously, their lips mere centimeters apart.

“Haven’t you been saying all along that anticipation is what makes things hotter?”

Henry can’t help it; his body pitches forward on its own accord, but Alex laughs wickedly as he slips out of bed and stands. Henry pouts like a petulant child. Alex takes mercy on him, slipping a hand into his hair and kissing him deeply for a moment before he turns to go.

Henry watches him head for the door, wishing foolishly that he could follow. 

Alex pauses at the door and looks back at him, biting on his lower lip. Henry can only imagine the sight he must be with disheveled hair, naked among sex mussed sheets. He hopes it’s a tempting view for Alex, one that will make him want to return to Henry’s room the second his interviews are done. 

Alex takes a breath and squares his shoulders.

“To be continued.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Alex smiles, his eyes drinking Henry in. 

“When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

~*~*~

Austin, TXGreater Austin Comic Con

Henry stares up at the vast, starry sky above him and inhales deeply as his eyes close. He hears the crackle of fire in the pit where he sits in the backyard of Alex’s father’s lake house.

It’s perhaps the most serene he’s felt on this entire tour and he knows Alex feels the same. After all, nothing could ever compare to home for a man who spends so much of his life traveling to different cities across the country for months at a time.

From the moment they landed, Alex had become even more animated than usual, going on and on about all the things he wanted to show Henry. It all sounded wonderful, like particularly good content he could use for the book.

But more than that, Henry was looking forward to having a real look into the basis of Alex’s life over the next week. It was one thing to hear the stories he’d recount, but quite another to physically be in the places that held meaning to Alex, to speak firsthand with the people who shaped him.

Alex had taken him to visit his childhood home, the place that meant so much to him he’d taken to wearing its key around his neck. There, he got to see Alex’s history like a museum. The trophies he’d won for lacrosse, childhood photos that covered the walls and mantles, the very bedroom where Alex kissed a boy for the first time.

Alex shared it all with him, aided by his parents and stepfather along with June and Nora— the latter two of which had been especially keen on spilling Alex’s more embarrassing stories. 

The day had been long, but beautiful, especially as it led them here to this gorgeous setting. The others have already called it a night, but Henry and Alex, true night owls, had opted to stay out a bit longer.

“Could I tempt you with a late night stroll?” Alex asks.

Henry hums softly in assent, turning his head to the side and opening his eyes to find Alex already looking at him.

The flames reflect in his eyes, but a fire of a different kind seems to burn in their depths.

“I could be persuaded, yes.” He smiles then and takes a hold of the hand Alex extends to him as he stands.

He’s not expecting Alex to keep holding on, but he doesn’t object or pull away. Instead, Henry brushes his thumb twice against the back of Alex’s hand as Alex puts out the fire.

There’s something rather romantic about this scene though Henry does his best not to lean far heavily into such a thought as they start to walk.

“So, now that you’ve had an up close and personal view of my family, what do you think?”

Henry smiles. “I can see perfectly why you are the way that you are.”

Alex jokingly narrows his eyes. 

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not,” he laughs.

Henry chuckles as well. “Hardly. I only meant…you’re well-loved. You’ve got such a wonderful support system behind you. You guys are a real family, even if slightly unconventional. But it works and it’s beautiful. Not everyone has that.”

Alex’s brows furrow.

“Do you? You don’t really talk about your family. I figure there’s a reason why, so I’ve never wanted to push it.”

Henry smiles wistfully. It’s true. He’s mentioned Bea plenty of times to Alex and spoke fondly of her, naturally. But the rest of his family and the relationship he has with them has felt too messy and complicated to discuss, especially when contrasted with Alex’s family.

“Outside of Bea, I don’t get on that well with my family. My brother Philip can best be described as a stick in the mud with a stick up his arse. Then there’s the matter of my gran who is perhaps the most conservative being in the world,” he says, attempting to be somewhat diplomatic. 

From the look on Alex’s face, it’s obvious he understands the implication and doesn’t like it one bit.

“Between the two of them, it’s evident that quite literally no part of my life will ever meet their arbitrary set of standards. It made leaving home that much easier though, I can say that much.”

Alex frowns.

“What about your parents? Are you at least closer to them?”

Henry stops walking. Alex gently lets go of his hand but stays close, stepping in front of him. Henry smiles sadly at him.

“My father was the most exceptional man. He passed away a few years ago. I still miss him terribly every day.”

Alex lets out a breath.

“Henry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have…I’m sorry,” he says, lightly touching Henry’s cheek. Henry leans into his touch.

“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known, but thank you.” 

Alex strokes his cheek and Henry finds it within himself to continue. 

“My mother and I used to be quite close. However, since my father passed, she’s been lost in her grief, but she has been working to find her way back. It’s been rather difficult on her…on all of us. In so many ways, I feel as if I’ve lost both my parents.”

Alex leans in and kisses his other cheek, lingering for a moment before wrapping both arms around him. Henry embraces him as well.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Alex says. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this. You don’t deserve any of it.”

Henry smiles to himself and kisses Alex’s temple.

“That’s okay, love. Mum and I are still making progress even though I’m no longer home. And I’ve managed to have a pretty good life here in the States. You’re a part of that now. Thankfully so.”

It’s a damning truth, but one Henry feels comfortable in sharing. This time on the road with Alex has truly been one of the greatest experiences of his life, not just in the few years he’s been living in this country. He feels blessed to have him.

Alex pulls back and looks at him.

“You do realize this means you can never get rid of me then, right? It’s a whole If You Give a Mouse a Cookie thing going on here now. Did you have that book growing up in England? Anyway, the point is, I’m not going anywhere.”

Henry laughs. “I would never dream of getting rid of you. If anything, I’d venture to say it’s you who is now stuck with me.”

Alex takes a hold of his hand again and snorts.

“Stuck with,” he mutters. 

They resume their walk and despite the heavy nature of their talk earlier, they’re able to slip back into an easygoing atmosphere. Henry supposes it comes down to both the scenery around them and simply the power that is Alex.

They wind up close to the water’s edge and Henry thinks vaguely of weeks ago in Portland, to the awkward conversation by the pond out there that somehow led to this newfound relationship with Alex. Since meeting Alex that night in New York, his life has taken on a turn he could have never seen coming.

“Have you ever gone skinny dipping before?” Alex asks suddenly. It’s the very last thing Henry had been expecting to hear.

His head snaps to the side to look at Alex who is already reaching for the hem of his own shirt.

“Are you mad? What if someone sees us?”

Alex merely laughs as he tosses his shirt to the ground and kicks off his shoes.

“Then we’d really just be gifting them with the glorious sight of your naked body and honestly, they should thank us for such service.”

Henry huffs out a laugh and shakes his head incredulously. Alex simply undoes the button on his jeans and cocks a brow in challenge.

Henry shouldn’t take the bait. He knows it. But Alex’s ability to get under his skin and bring out his competitive side is unmatched. He refuses to let Alex best him.

Henry scoffs and quickly finds himself disrobing as well until they’re standing nude in front of each other. Alex’s eyes roam his body as they always do, his fingertips trailing along a vein in Henry’s arm and up to his shoulder.

Alex’s hand secures around the nape of his neck and Henry closes the space between them and kisses him. Alex’s fingers comb through his hair and Henry moans softly at the feel, his hips pressing to Alex’s as he grips the man’s sides. He feels breathless by the time Alex turns away and heads into the water without another word or glance.

Henry watches his figure as he goes, feeling a swell of emotion surging in his chest. The tide has been changing for some time now and tonight, it seems to be coming to the surface.

Alex cuts through the water with ease as he swims, his strong arms carrying him towards the end of the dock. Henry finally joins him, shivering as his body adjusts to the cool waters.

“I thought you were chickening out on me,” Alex says, coming closer to him.

Henry shakes his head. “I needed a moment to enjoy the view. You make for quite the sight. I’d be remiss if I didn’t savor it.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but the soft smile he tries to bite back contradicts him.

“Ever the writer.”

Here, with milky white moonlight casting them in shadows, it’s all too easy to let himself hide in this moment, to run from the reality that Alex isn’t actually his to keep even if he gets to have him now.

In this moment, they can be whatever his heart wants them to be. It’s in such violation of the terms and conditions to this agreement, but Henry cannot bring himself to come clean and wreck this.

He kisses Alex, pressing their chests together and leaning Alex against one of the dock’s posts. This night feels different and it strikes Henry then that this entire scenario is. They aren’t kissing as a means of leading into a lesson. They’re simply doing it because they want to. 

He knows, in his heart, he should call this out now and yet, as Alex holds his face and kisses him deeper, Henry won’t dare to put a stop to it. Alex wraps his legs around him and Henry holds him up, shamelessly gripping his ass and pulling him in even closer still. His lungs burn for a clean breath.

Alex pulls away only slightly, enough to look him in the eyes. There’s a question in his gaze, a sort of hesitancy or uncertainty. Fear of ruining the moment keeps Henry from asking.

He stares back as Alex’s thumb traces the curve of Henry’s bottom lip.

“I really like kissing you,” Alex says.

“The worst kept secret, darling. But I confess, I’m guilty of the same.”

Alex laughs and presses his mouth to Henry’s. Henry's hands move and tighten on Alex’s thighs as he continues to hold him up. Alex’s arms drape over Henry’s shoulders as his lips part, tongue seeking out Henry’s. Henry pours back into him, one hand moving to the small of Alex’s back.

Henry feels starved for him. It feels as if they spend hours out there under the stars, their bodies as close as humanly possible. He can feel how riled up Alex is, their direct contact making it impossible to ignore.

Henry isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to stave off the urge to have all of Alex.

“It’s late. We should probably get back inside,” he says softly after a while.

Alex detaches himself but brings one of Henry’s hands to his lips and kisses each fingertip.

Henry shudders and he knows it’s not because of the chilly lake. 

He stares at Alex, his heart aching the longer he looks.

God, does he love this man. The thought should scare him, but it doesn’t. It’s a truth Henry has known all along even if he hasn’t been bold enough to name it.

Alex’s face is hard to read in the dark, but he kisses Henry sweetly one last time before lacing their fingers and leading them out of the water to get dressed once more.

They return to the house and shower, begrudgingly in two different bathrooms but Henry knows it’s for the best. When he returns to the room they’re sharing, Alex is getting settled under the covers, smiling at him in greeting, hair still damp from the shower.

In some other life, Henry thinks, this would be the norm for them, ending the night together. At least for tonight, he can hold onto the domesticity of this and pretend.

Henry sets his toiletry bag back into his suitcase where it lays open in the corner of the room before pulling the comforter back and laying beside Alex who comes in close and burrows into his side immediately. Henry wraps an arm around him, his fingertips skimming down his back and along his side. Alex shivers and kisses his shoulder.

Henry feels a bit insane with how badly he wants more of this man. Being this close to him, smelling the scent of his body wash, feeling the warmth of his body, he’s not quite sure how he’ll survive the night but knows that he must.

“Can we go off script tonight?” Alex asks.

Henry peers down at him, taken aback by the question.

“I didn’t think we even had anything in mind for our stay. We’re with your family this week.”

Surely being in the same house with his entire family and best friend would be enough of a deterrent for Alex. The likelihood of someone catching them in the act was astronomically high.

Alex’s fingertips trace the dusting of hair below Henry’s navel as he places a kiss on Henry’s bare chest, his breath soft against Henry’s skin. Henry can’t help it; something stirs in the pit of his stomach, a yearning that quickly turns into an absolute need.

Willpower be damned.

Alex’s eyes flicker back up to his face.

“I can keep quiet if you can,” Alex says. 

Henry shuts his eyes and takes a cleansing breath before looking at Alex again. This man is sure to be his undoing.

“And what exactly did you envision for this evening, might I ask?”

Alex’s nimble fingers work to loosen the drawstring of Henry’s pajama bottoms.

“An extra credit project. I’d like to test myself with something, but I need your body to do it. You opened my eyes back in Minneapolis, indulged me in a fantasy I’ve had for longer than I’d like to publicly admit, even to you. I wonder if you might be willing to do that again?”

Henry thinks back to Minneapolis. That was so early on in their lessons but suddenly it hits him. He’d deviated from the outline on the second night of their stay and it led to unexpected yet pleasant terrain. He had enjoyed every second of picking Alex apart with his tongue.

From the way Alex is looking at him, it’s obvious he wants a turn in the driver’s seat now.

“Are you sure?” Henry asks.

Alex slips a hand between Henry’s legs, stroking him faintly as he brings his lips to his ear.

“Let me take care of you this time. I could be so good for you, Henry. I can make you feel the most amazing things,” he practically purrs. 

Henry grabs a handful of Alex’s ass. Alex gasps, his body trembling. There’s such naked hunger in his eyes. Henry is glad he’s not alone in that.

“Lock the door,” Henry says.

Alex grins and gets out of bed and bounds toward the door. Henry undresses himself completely by the time Alex turns back around.

Henry lays stretched out on his side, propping his head up on his hand. Alex’s eyes scan his entire body.

“How do you want me?” Henry asks.

Alex opens and closes his mouth as he meets his gaze.

“I know you’ve pictured it,” he says, quietly, trailing a fingertip slowly down his side. “You can tell me. I want this to be exactly how you want it.”

Alex takes a seat on the bed again and licks his lips. He runs a hand up one of Henry’s legs, lightly scratching at his thigh.

“It’s mostly always you on all fours, spread wide and letting me eat you out from behind,” Alex admits.

Henry doesn’t flinch.

“I like the way you think.”

Henry repositions himself just as Alex envisioned, dipping his back, putting himself shamelessly on display. He glances over his shoulder to look at Alex. The man’s mouth is agape. He reaches out a hand and runs it down the length of Henry’s spine and to his ass appraisingly. 

Henry grips the bedding to steady himself as he trembles as he looks forward again. 

“Just beautiful. Absolutely perfect in every way,” Alex says quietly. Henry feels himself blush from his chest all the way up to his face. He’s glad Alex can’t see just how much he’s affecting him already.

Alex’s palm journeys along the curve of Henry’s ass and he gives him a good, firm squeeze. Henry lets out a faint whimper.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t leave you hanging. Not when you’re behaving so well.”

Henry sighs in relief at the words and a moment later, Alex is kissing down the length of his spine before he has both hands on Henry’s ass, spreading him open. Henry braces himself, knuckles turning white as he fists the blanket.

The first touch of Alex’s tongue against his rim is unlike anything. His eyes water at once, his whole body desperate for more.

Alex gives him just that, returning his mouth to him again. Henry lets out a shuddering breath as Alex’s tongue teases him, making small circles that drive him crazy with want.

He arches his back, his head tipping backwards. The room is warm, but Henry feels a chill run through him as Alex’s tongue suctions inside him, the muscle making a pulsing beat.

“You’re so good at this,” Henry gasps. Alex moans softly in response. 

Alex spreads him wider, his tongue burying deeper and lapping against his walls. Henry’s right hand comes away from the blanket and covers his mouth, trapping a whimper.

He lets his hand fall away again, his cock aching between his legs. He tries to reach for it, but Alex gently nudges his hand out of the way and starts stroking him instead.

Henry’s eyes roll shut as he surrenders fully to Alex, letting him take complete control of his pleasure. It feels good to let go like this, to not overthink. To simply not think at all.

His upper half feels weak and Henry slumps forward against the bed, his cheek pressed into the pillow as his ass lifts higher in the air. He feels Alex’s weight shift to accommodate the new angle. His tongue is unrelenting and Henry wouldn’t have it any other way.

He can’t recall the last time someone has done this to him and the fact that now it’s Alex of all people is simply unparalleled.

Tears streak down his face and Henry wishes more than anything that he could scream Alex’s name, let him know just how good his ministrations feel. But having to stay quiet, to take attention this good in silence like this only turns him on more.

He rolls his hips backwards, shamelessly riding Alex’s tongue. He bites his bottom lip raw in the effort to keep from crying out. He reaches a hand back, grabbing a fistful of Alex’s hair as he fucks his tongue the second he strikes him just right.

“Shit,” he hisses softly. “You’ve got it, Alex. Don’t stop. Right there,” he coaxes, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He shivers, grinding back as Alex jerks him off in the same tempo as his tongue. The simultaneous moves break the dam and Henry’s eyes shut tight as he stays quiet through his orgasm. He grips Alex’s hair tighter, his other hand resting on top of Alex’s as the man squeezes his cock and strokes him, eking out every last drop.

Henry’s whole body is drained and he falls forward a bit. Alex’s arms circle him and hold him close, his body curving around Henry’s.

“H, are you okay?” Alex whispers in his ear, concern bleeding into his words. “Talk to me.”

Henry nods, catching his breath. 

“I’m good. I’m okay. I’m more than that,” he says. “This was just what I needed. It’s been ages since someone’s…,” he sighs, realizing he’s rambling. “You were perfect, Alex. Unbelievably perfect.”

He turns his face enough to capture Alex’s lips, not at all put off by where they’ve just been. If anything, it just fuels him more.

He’s breathless, but he kisses Alex greedily, needing him close still.

“Can I return the favor?” he asks after a moment.

Alex chuckles lightly in his ear. 

“As much as I would love that, and believe me, I would. It won’t be necessary. I, uh, kinda came in my pants? I haven’t done that since freshman year of high school so congrats on this crowning achievement,” he says, laughter still in his voice. “But man, watching you finish…there’s nothing else like it. I could play that on a loop forever.”

Henry searches his face and kisses him again, fully swiveling in his arms so they’re completely face to face once more. He hooks a leg over Alex’s hip, tangling his fingers in his curls.

Alex smiles at him.

“I’m never gonna be able to look at this room the same way,” Alex says, holding onto his wrist. “Pretty sure the bed is going to feel empty the next time I’m here without you.”

Henry’s heart sinks a little at the thought. He’s a footnote in this story. He’s known that from the start.

“I guess I’ll just have to leave you a ton of good memories to tide you over then,” he says.

Alex’s eyes drift to his lips and back to his eyes.

“You’ve given me enough good memories to last a lifetime. I’ll never forget.”

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #usernicholas #usersteen #tusersilence #userjamiec #lookstevie #iuserzoe #kimmy writes

[sakis-sweets]

So. Yandere Simulator runs on Unity. And Unity has decided to fuck over developers.

Basically, if you are an indie dev and your game makes 200k in annual revenue and has been installed 200k times, Unity is now going to charge you 20 cents every time a player installs your game. What does this mean for Yandere Simulator?

YandereDev hasn't said anything about it yet, this is recent news and I'm sure he's thinking about it, but I can take a guess. Yandere Simulator doesn't make any revenue right now, so it doesn't meet the threshold for the fee. But that might change once the game is fully released. And you KNOW that gremlins would be all too happy to maliciously reinstall Yandere Simulator if it means bankrupting YandereDev, and Unity so far seems to be kind of vague on how they're going to protect developers against that sort of thing (pirated copies could also count for this fee, so gremlins wouldn't even have to spend money). Basically, it would be entirely stupid for YandereDev to release this game on Unity.

Does that mean RECREATING THE WHOLE PROJECT ON ANOTHER ENGINE? If there's no way for him to port the game and fix any resulting kinks, then yeah. That would be an astronomical amount of work, setting back the release date by YEARS I'm sure.

I'm gonna be checking the blog and waiting for YandereDev's opinion, because I know he's gonna have something to say about it, but right now the future of Yandere Simulator has been thrown for quite the fucking loop. I do believe that he will SOMEHOW power through and finish the game, because that's what he's been doing for nearly ten years. I just don't know what that's going to look like now.

#yandere simulator #yansim #saki says

[mycupofrum]

I can't get enough, you have to tell me when I should stop. I wish I could ask every combination

I'm curious about 1+54, 79+95 and 88+84 (I'm so bad at picking cool combinations)

You can chose 🤗

Hii! ❤️ Sorry this took me ages to reply, I never meant to leave it hanging for so long!

Here are three Prongsfoot ideas for the Fanfiction trope mash-up ask game. Contains some nsfw-ish mentions.

Historical AU + Secret Relationship

James is an MI6 spy while Sirius is a Soviet spy during the Cold War. Neither knows that they’re spying on each other, and for their cover roles they both pretend to be professors at Oxford University. They end up in a ”secret relationship”, except they are both deceiving the other. James’s mission is to gain information from Sirius in any way possible, and Sirius is trying to do the same to James. They both feed false information to the other until they realise that they’re spying on each other.

Their employers are not happy with them and they’re taken off from their respective cases. James is suspended for a few weeks and assigned to do paperwork for the foreseeable future, but Sirius is tortured and imprisoned for not being successful in his mission. Once James finds out about it, it doesn’t sit well with him.

He then decides to break into the prison to rescue Sirius in Siberia in the cold of winter. It’s a completely mad mission to embark on and will cost him his whole future, but the sex with Sirius is really good and their chemistry is off the charts, and he kind of accidentally fell head over heels for Sirius during their secret fake relationship. James decides he’d rather spend a lifetime with Sirius on the run than go back to his old life and never see him again. He breaks Sirius free, and now they are both traitors to their governments, so they escape together and go somewhere nice and sunny far, far away.

Anger Born of Worry + Sleep Intimacy

Sirius is traumatised from all the emotional abuse he suffered at the hands of his parents, but he represses it to the point he convinces himself he’s all right after he goes to live with the Potters. The effects from the abuse don’t sneak up on him until he’s in his early 20s and fighting in the first wizarding war, at which point Sirius becomes reckless on Order missions. He doesn’t seem to care about his own life and runs off alone after death eaters, despite the fact that they should always be in pairs.

So far Sirius has been lucky and gotten results, which is why Dumbledore doesn’t exactly forbid him to do what he does. But James is furious and worries for Sirius, and they argue a lot. Emotions run high, but at night they settle their arguments with heated, angry sex, until they get the stress out of their system. That’s when they finally settle down to sleep (spooning, obviously) and have a few hours of peace until the next day comes and it all starts again.

Married to the Job + Erotic Dreams

Sirius is an established surgeon who operates on superstar footballer James Potter’s injured knee. They’re both busy with their work, except now James has a long recovery time ahead of him, so his mind wanders to the handsome surgeon so much so that he starts to dream about him and wakes up hard on many mornings. Sirius works long hours at the hospital, so he doesn't have much of a social life outside of work, even though his colleagues keep telling him he should do something about it.

When James comes to his control visit, he demands to speak to Sirius about his *knee*, but also poses an offhanded question on whether Sirius is seeing anyone. James manages to somehow strip down to only his underwear, even though Sirius tells him that he really doesn’t need to remove his shirt for Sirius to examine his knee. James just smirks when Sirius’s gaze lingers on his abs for a little longer than necessary. Yet Sirius insists that while he's single, he’s just too busy to date anyone, thinking that’ll be that.

Little does he know that his refusal only makes James Potter more determined. James flirts with a nurse to get Sirius’s phone number. They start texting, then sexting. Well, James sends the sexy messages, while Sirius’s replies are dry and witty. James has a vivid imagination and his dirty messages about his erotic dreams and fantasies amuse Sirius against his will but also make him undeniably horny. It takes a few weeks of James spamming him with sexy messages, when Sirius finally appears behind James’s door for a ”private consultation.” They end up sucking each other off on the living room sofa before making it to the bedroom a little later.

Eventually James returns to play for the team, and Sirius becomes the team’s super hot doctor (he even has his own unofficial fan club among the football fans). Their plan is that when James is done with his football career, Sirius goes back to work at the hospital if he wants to, but it’s okay if he doesn’t because James is loaded and Sirius is also very wealthy, so they can do whatever they like. Two years after meeting for the first time, they get married. Neither of them is happy when James’s friend Remus and Sirius’s tech-bro little brother Regulus as their best men decide to prank them by displaying some of James and Sirius’s early messages to the wedding guests (only the super cheesy ones when James tried to be romantic, there's a lot they had to censor). :D

#prongsfoot #ask game #asks answered #fanfiction trope mash-up ask game

[celestial-grls]

Paper Purposes / Robin Buckley x Reader 

Summary: You’re the managing editor of the school newspaper. Robin joins as a fill-in photographer for the newspaper. As a result, there are a lot of bad jokes, a newfound fear of darkrooms, the possibility of some fairy photography, and cheesy fries. [6.0k]

Warnings: School newspaper editor!reader, photographer!Robin, a slow burn from strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers (eventually? Maybe in the future?), r and robin are both a little shy but show it in different ways, fluff, mutual pining, etc. Also a tiny bit is written in Robin’s POV

A/N: I hope you guys like this! I also turned on anons now, so feel free to send me any requests, your thoughts etc. There’s a 'That 70s Show' reference in here, PLEASE let me know if you catch it 

Nancy Wheeler runs the Hawkins High school newspaper with an iron fist. Some of the sophomores who she assigns to write puff pieces call her ‘Queen Stalin’ when she isn’t around to hear them. The school paper only gets one room in the entire school to do all of the typing, printing, arranging of the spread, and holding meetings. You’ve known Nancy since last summer when you met at an internship for The Hawkins Post. You two quickly became friends over the ancient Mr. Coffee machine and sweated in your only pair of stockings while doing sandwich runs together. Once she had a lead for the Mrs. Driscoll story, she needed someone to cover for her to lessen any suspicion. The rest is history. 

It’s the first of the month, so everyone waits for her to delegate assignments for the next issue. They’re all sitting at the long table with Nancy at the head, you in the seat next to her. She starts, “Okay. We have a big month ahead and a lot to cover. Y/N, you’ll cover the student council elections and the upcoming pep rally.” She looks down at her notebook and lists off who’s covering what. You start writing the dates of your assigned topics when the door opens and someone shoves through. 

“...Hi. Sorry,” Robin Buckley apologetically moves through and searches for somewhere to sit. 

“It’s fine, Robin. Just going through this month’s assignments.” Nancy’s a little ruffled but after Robin finds a seat she picks up where she left off. You know Robin. Well, ‘know’ is generous. You’re aware she’s in your grade and in band and that somehow she and Nancy know each other, but she’s never been a part of the paper. She’s doing her best to quietly take out something to write with, but it’s pointless because Nancy hasn’t assigned her anything yet.

“Alright, that leaves the cover story for me and…uh Robin, just stay for a minute with me and Y/N. That’s it for today’s meeting.” There’s the sound of papers shuffling, backpacks being picked up, and some sophomores huffing about their assignments until the room is cleared. You look at Robin and wonder what she’s doing here if Nancy hasn’t assigned her anything to write. 

“Any updates on Fred?” You ask Nancy. He hasn’t been able to pick up anything heavier than a fork after breaking his arm photographing a football game. It’s safe to say he will no longer cover the sports section. 

“Um, he’ll be gone for a little while,” Nancy sighs, “But the doctors say once the bone is set he’ll be back in about a month.” 

“Yikes,” Robin grimaces. 

“Yeah. Yikes,” Nancy looks between you and Robin, “Robin’s filling in for Fred until then. I don’t have as much time as I wish I did to introduce her to everything so she’ll be with you while you write.” 

“As my writing partner?” You ask for clarification, looking at Robin and examining her face for any displeasure with being paired with you. She’s biting the inside of her cheek and tugging on her jacket sleeve. Maybe she’s nervous, but hopefully not upset about being paired with you.  

“As a photographer. You’re the only other person with access to the darkroom and I’m swamped with college apps…” Nancy glances at her watch “Speaking of which, I have to take Mike home and start on my Emerson application but I’ll check in with you guys in a week.” That leaves just you and Robin. The room feels so much bigger without anyone in there, and you get to really look at Robin. She’s tall, taller than most of the girls in your grade. She’s also un-permed and un-hairsprayed, with dark blonde hair that comes to her chin. Even if she did make more of an effort to look like the other girls, it would fail. She sticks out a little regardless. When she clears her throat, it snaps you out of your assessment of her. 

“So…I-I’m not sure how this works. I was sort of expecting a very detailed instruction manual written by Nancy herself,” She quickly realizes it might’ve come off like she didn’t want to work with you so she backtracks, “Not that I’m upset or, um annoyed or anything. With working with you, I mean. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

There’s this look on her face like she can’t get enough air in her lungs and you know she didn’t mean anything by it so you stop her before she talks herself into a deeper hole, “Robin, it’s okay. I know what you meant.” She still doesn’t look convinced. “Nancy actually made sure I wrote the instruction manual on my arm so you could read off of it. We’re trying to use less paper.” Maybe if I tell a joke she’ll be able to take a full breath. Even if it isn’t a funny one. 

Something loosens in her face, a tiny deflating in her shoulders. She even breathes out a laugh. “Even the best journalists have to cut costs somehow.” She actually replied to your joke with her own, a small victory. You rip a piece of paper from your notebook and write ‘Room 122. Wear sneakers’ and hand it to her. “That’s the darkroom number. The camera’ll be in there and anything else we might need…” 

She takes it from you. Your fingertips brush hers for half a second, hardly noticeable if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now. “Wear sneakers?” She questions. 

“We’ll be doing a lot of walking.” You answer. “We can get started tomorrow after school. If that’s fine with you, of course.” 

“Uh, yeah,” She bites the inside of her cheek again, “I’ll see you then.” 

-

Robin's POV

The uncertainty doesn’t even let her bike all the way home before it creeps in. Did I have to do the paper? Should I have just joined chess club? The questions bounce around her brain like a broken pinball machine. God, what if I break my arm taking pictures like Fred did? Or worse, take photos and not realize my thumb was taking up half the frame? It’s junior year and may be too late for trying anything new. But the fast-approaching future of life outside of Hawkins is demanding and if she had something other than three years of marching band and one summer job scooping ice cream under her belt, she’d feel better about her college applications. Except that the thought of spending the next month on the school paper (which she knew next to nothing about), seems to be having the opposite effect. Even when she flops down on her bed, face buried as far into the pillow as she can get, that feeling she got in the newsroom comes back. Like she can’t get enough air into her lungs. She’s trying to distract herself from the feeling that she’s in over her head. She thinks back to the joke you made earlier ‘We’re trying to use less paper.’ Robin did know you. Well, ‘know’ would be generous. She knew you were in the same grade, that you’ve always written for the school paper, and that you know Nancy from the summer internship you both did. But she’s only spent five minutes alone with you. There’s a whole month left before anything goes to print. From what she can tell, there’s an obvious reason why you’re Nancy’s second in command. Where Nancy is detail-oriented and hands-on, you seem more laissez-faire in your approach. Where Nancy is more focused to the point of tunnel vision, you seem more scatterbrained. The little piece of paper you handed her is shoved between a used copy of Making Movies by Sidney Lumet. She pulls it out to examine your handwriting. Room 122. Wear sneakers. Your handwriting is loopy and girlish, but the note is audacious. It’s a request, one you expect to be followed. If she reads between the lines the note would say ‘Meet me. Wear sneakers. Don’t be late’. Robin sticks it back into the book, carefully this time, and retreats further into her pillow. It could be worse. I could have to do it alone. The promise of your company isn’t completely reassuring, though. You’re still a trusted editor, one that could judge her and nitpick and get annoyed if Robin doesn’t get things right away. You’re still someone Robin hardly knows. But the thought of you being mean to her stirs a bit of cognitive dissonance. Y/N is probably nice. She joked with me. Why would she do that if she thought I was totally incompetent? She decides that it doesn’t even seem in your nature to be cruel to someone you hardly know, but there’s an aloofness that’s still impenetrable about you that tells Robin to proceed with caution. An ease about you that probably comes from years on the paper. Undoubtedly, it’s just as much your domain as it is Nancy’s. The self-doubt cycles back, signaling she’s broken the pinball machine in her brain again and now it dings incessantly. I just have to get through tomorrow. Meet Y/N. Wear sneakers. Don’t be late.

-

Entering the darkroom feels like stepping into an eerie, evil cabin in the woods. It’s something out of a horror movie, glowing red and otherwise dark. The smell is pungent and distinctly metallic, so chemically that it feels dangerous to spend more than five minutes in it. There are long metal tables with plastic bins filled with a clear solution. What looks like wet photographs hang from clothespins strung up on the ceiling. Robin’s early. She’s shifting from foot to foot waiting for your arrival and too scared to walk around the room and do any exploring. She’s tugging at her jacket sleeve and adjusting her hair in the reflection of something clear and reflective to her right. She’s nervous enough to only hear the squeaking of her shoes, the fast thump of her heart. Something touches her shoulder and she’s so startled that she yelps. 

“Shit, sorry! I’m sorry! I thought you heard me come in.” It’s only Y/N. 

“No, it’s okay! I should’ve been paying attention,” Robin sounds nervous and the same thought you had in the newsroom comes back. Make her laugh. Even if it’s not a good joke. 

“Does this place give you the creeps?” There’s a concerned lilt in your voice while you’re asking her. 

Robin nods, “It looks like an evil lair.” 

You deadpan, “I come here to drain the souls of sophomore editors.” Thankfully, she laughs at that. You move past Robin to reach for the camera bag. It’s big and bulky with a Hawkins tiger patch on it. 

“That explains why it smells like gas. Are we going to start liquifying if we stand here too long?” Even if Robin’s joking she’s still nervous. She eyes you pulling out a camera and 3 rolls of film and then putting them all back into the bag neatly. 

You turn to her, looking at her even if it’s hard to discern the details of her features under the red light. “We’re safe. I spend hours here at a time. Fred used to spend more.” Both of you seem to remember that Fred’s in the hospital at the same time, so you quickly follow up “But he’s y’know, not liquefied. He’s a lot safer in here than anywhere near the football field.” The bag is all packed, you sling it over your shoulder and step towards the door. “Follow me.” 

-

There are a million questions going through Robin’s mind right now, but her mouth is a little dry so she won’t ask any of them. It also doesn’t help that she’s a tiny bit intimidated by you. Not because you seem mean or cruel, but because it just looks like you know what you’re doing. There’s a self-assurance about you that not many people Robin knows possess. Maybe she just thinks that because she doesn’t know you much yet. It’s not like you’re cold to her, but she can’t shake this need to make you like her. Okay, maybe ‘like’ is farfetched. She’s decidedly shooting for you to find her tolerable. It’s not like Robin to be so quiet around people. She’s usually talkative, bordering verbose, and a little sarcastic in a way she hopes people find charming. She can talk a million words a minute when she’s around Steve. She has no issue rolling her eyes and loudly firing back at some idiot in band who’s using his clarinet as a pretend dick. This entire time she’s so focused on sifting through why she wants you to not hate her, she didn’t realize where you were taking her. She didn’t even think to question it. It’s only a ten-minute walk from the school’s east exit but it may as well have been Jupiter. It’s a big wooded area with patches of wild mint growing and a loud hum of insects. It’s how secluded it is that worries Robin. The question leaps out of her mouth before her brain even registers what she’s saying. 

“Are you going to murder me, Y/N?” If she didn’t sound so squirrely she could’ve played it off as a joke. 

You look a little surprised, mouth forming a little oh shape. But then you decide to poke fun at her. “With what? A roll of film?” To be fair, you did lead her to a wooded area with no signs indicating people have inhabited this space. It’s a trail you know that’s only about 2 miles long. There are thick maple trees and several rings of mushrooms scattered around the forest floor. Robin is taking it all in. You couldn’t see much of her in the darkroom, but now in plain daylight, you could observe. The jacket sleeve she tugs on every now and then has a blue patch with yellow writing that says ‘handle with care’. You’re…interested. Something in you twitches because you realize that her jacket is telling you more about her than she is. 

“What is this place?” Robin questions. 

“It’s a fairy trail,” You put your hands on your hips, “Or, I call it that. It’s really just a normal trail but, you see those rings of mushrooms? Those are called fairy rings.” 

“Okay. I guess…it sounds like the last place you’d murder anyone. 'Murder in fairy trail' would make for a weird headline”

Robin wears all of her questions on her face. It’s like reading a billboard. You try to fill in as many gaps as you can. “This is praxis. Umm…your first lesson for the newspaper,” Robin looks like she’s starting to get it. “Since you’re taking pictures you need to know all the things that go into taking a picture. I know it sounds sort of obvious but there’s a surprising amount of things to think about when you take a picture. The subject, the light, the color, the composition. And I know it’s the school paper so who cares what the pictures look like but still, I think it’s worth trying to get right.” She’s taking in what you’re telling her. Then you realize you never answered the biggest question practically bulging out of her forehead right now. “Oh! Sorry, I forgot. The trail is so we can capture subjects that don’t move. Y’know, before we get to any game-winning action shots or…I don’t know, moody portraits of whoever doesn’t win the student council election. I promise it’s not so I can murder you.” Robin relaxes a little bit, glances up at the way the sunlight is coming through the gaps in the leaves, and settles into how pretty of a place this is for Hawkins. Like she didn’t really think Hawkins could look like this. 

“It’s so pretty here. But how the hell did you find it?” 

“In the summer, when my grandparents would come to visit they would take me ‘fairy hunting’. According to all of the stories fairies like hanging out where it’s lush and there’s lots of plants.” 

“I’d say this fits the criteria. Have you ever seen one?” Robin’s still taking it all in. She seems more comfortable around you now that she's not in the darkroom. 

“I thought I did once. It was too quick, though and the wings could’ve been a big dragonfly. But my grandma sort of believes all the Pagan stuff about them being wise and spiritual beings and that when you come across them, it’s because you’re meant to.” 

“Oh my god, my mom too! Well, my mom and dad. They’re more like domesticated hippies though. My mom is always shoving a crystal in my face whenever I get a headache or have like a big test to study for.” 

“Do you believe in any of it?” You ask her, only because her being a reformed hippie didn’t really make sense with your perception of her until she said it. All of the things Robin reveals molds the perception until it matches with the person in front of you, who’s kicking a pinecone with the toe of her converse. 

“I guess I don’t have any reason not to,” Robin shrugs, “I don’t know if I’d believe in fairies unless I saw one, though.” 

“You didn’t believe in the tooth fairy?” 

“My parents never told me about the tooth fairy, actually. Whenever I lost a tooth, I’d give it to them and they’d put it in this hollowed out coconut they brought home from their honeymoon in Florida.” Her face is breaking out in a grin because she’s never really revealed the inherent silliness of her parents. No one her age has ever asked her this much about herself. It's a little disorienting.

You’re grinning yourself because the thought of all of Robin’s baby teeth being kept safe in a coconut is so precious, you almost forget the purpose of your trip to the trail. “If only we had some coconuts or baby teeth here to take pictures of. It’d be much more interesting subject.” You pipe up to add, “I also brought you here for another reason. We need to get to know each other.” Shit, that probably sounds weird. Your hands itch for something to do so you take out the camera and load a roll of film into it before continuing. “Uh, everything with the paper works better when you know each other better. I mean, like it shows in the paper. We rely on each other, kind of. We also have a whole month together. So I don’t want you to feel lorded over by me or anything.” 

It feels so weird that Robin isn’t the one rambling. This is the most she’s heard you say at once. The confident austere she’s come to associate you with slips a little. She feels better knowing it isn’t just her who’s nervous. “So do we…start now?”

“Yeah, uh,” You hand her the camera and notice her hands. There are some silver rings on a few of her fingers and dark red nail polish on all of them, “we can start now.” 

You both walk the entire trail, it takes you each a slow hour. The first walk-through is mostly filled with commentary about your surroundings. You point out more fairy rings, the beginnings of some ivy growing on a tree, and the exoskeleton of a dead dragonfly. Robin dutifully takes photos of each thing you point out. Eventually, you stop pointing anything out, hoping she’ll trust her own ability to capture something. Robin holds the camera up to her eye, squints the other, and takes a picture of a little carving on a tree of a heart with some indiscernible initials. You’re both stil talking, but it’s never forced. There’s enough gaps in conversation for you each to enjoy the sounds of little chipmunks chasing each other and the distant rush of a creek on the far side of the trail. Robin tells you more about her parents, Melissa and Keith. The image of them starts to form, mixes with what you know about Robin. You wonder idly who she gets her voice from. It doesn’t sound anything like how someone your age would sound. She rasps like someone who’s been singing on stage for 30 years and had too much fun to bother about the health of their vocal chords. You sprinkle in a tip or two about taking pictures, everything you know was taught to you by Fred. His absence meant you had to shoulder writing articles and taking some pictures for a bit. A wash of gratefulness falls over you, At least now Robin can take the pictures. On the walk back Robin steps forward, leaves crunching under her converse, and holds the camera up to her eye again to take another photo. There’s the sound of an empty click. 

“Think this roll is finished,” Robin tells you. 

“We’ve taken enough for today. It’s gonna get dark soon, we can start heading back.” You adjust the camera bag over your shoulder and Robin hands you the camera to put back inside. 

Robin’s lip curls into a half smile, “No little pixies photographed today.” 

“Says who? We won’t know until we get it developed.” You reply like it’s obvious. “I’m starving. What about you?” 

“Definitely hungry. The sneakers were a good call.” 

“Okay,” You wrap the jacket you’re wearing around you a little tighter, the chill in the air starting to blow in. “let’s eat.” 

-

It takes more effort than either of you want to expend to fit Robin’s bike in the trunk of your car. Your boxy beige Ford has seen better days but a run-down used car is exponentially better than no car. You climb into the driver’s seat while Robin fastens her seatbelt. You make quick work of turning the heater on. After a beat, you ask, “Could you open the glove compartment for me? My tapes are all in there.” It’s so stuffed with tapes that about four fall out onto the floor beneath Robin’s feet. Most of them are regular cassettes, but some look to be made by you with their own special names written in your loopy handwriting. 

“Jesus, have you recently robbed a record store?” Robin’s joking as she looks through the ones that fell. 

“I like having options,” You shrug and point to the tape in the very corner “Oh! Put that one in.” 

Robin’s sliding the tape in and you both hear the big, energetic drums kick in. She shyly admits, “I haven’t listened to this album yet.” 

“What!?” You’re giving Robin a face that says it’s impossible to have not listened to Blondie’s Eat to the Beat album. There’s just no way Robin hasn’t heard it. You start, “Take the tape home, then. I don’t want it back until you’ve listened to it once all the way through. Consider it homework.” 

Robin doesn’t protest. “I have listened to Parallel Lines, though. Pretty Baby is one of my favorite songs of all time.” 

“That’s because you haven’t heard the best four minutes of music in  Blondie’s entire discography, yet. ‘Shayla’ is such a good song, I almost named my cat after it.” 

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“He’s a boy. So I named him Bowie instead.” You’re not floundering the way Robin still is. Definitely not as intense as when you first met, but things aren’t coming as easy to her. Here, in your car, she’s wringing her hands and worrying the inside of her lip. Robin’s thinking, she’s being nice because she has to be. Because Fred’ll be back in a month anyways. It shouldn’t really matter what Y/N thinks of me. It’s still continuing as you step into the only diner in Hawkins, only a few patrons sit inside. The seats are dark green and worn, and the smell of coffee and the powdery notes of your waitress’s perfume hit you as you slide into a booth in the corner. You order a coke, Robin orders a shirley temple, and you both share a plate of cheese fries. You’re talking more about music, you both differ in opinion on who has better movie hair (Robin thinks Molly Ringwald reigns supreme, you argue Slone from Ferris Bueller’s day off has more volume), and of course about school. Robin’s waiting for you to bring up what is almost always discussed when she’s alone with any girl her age: crushes. She doesn’t blame anyone, it’s what’s on everyone’s mind and that’s fine. She’s used to it. So used to in fact that she’s already picked out some ordinary boy in her history class to use as a fill in crush for when you inevitably ask. She waits for you to. And then she waits some more, but you don’t ask about who she has a crush on. You’re still going on about Sloane Peterson. 

Robin’s looking at you over her Shirley temple, “Okay, is there any other vital information I should know?” 

You chew on the end of a cheese fry, “About the paper? We don’t have to do any more lessons for today.” 

“No, no. I-I meant about each other. Y’know, other than your cat being named after David Bowie.” 

“Oh.” You recall telling her that you both should get to know each other. For paper purposes, of course. “Well, what do you wanna know?” 

“Hmm,” Robin’s mouth twitches in the corner while she’s thinking, “Why the paper?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I asked you first.” 

“Okay, fair. Short answer–I didn’t really consider doing anything else. I’ve been with the paper since freshman year.” 

“And the long answer?” Robin’s genuinely curious. It’s refreshing to talk to someone that you haven’t known since you were a kid, there’s no shared history to compete with–only the present. It feels good to be sitting across from her. To watch little bubbles of condensation sweat off her glass and see the plate of fries slowly disappear. It’s late, both of your feet hurt a little from the walking you did, and you’re no longer complete strangers to one another. 

You shrug a little, “I like to write. It comes naturally, I guess. I’ve kept a notebook since I was 5. I think when I was 7 I interviewed everyone in my family about their favorite ice cream flavor and wrote it in a little notepad and everything.” 

Robin’s eyes soften at that, “Little reporter Y/N.” 

“Exactly. Now your turn.” 

“Hmm. I’ve never been great at short answers so I’ll give you an ‘answer’ answer.” 

“‘Answer’ answer is fine with me.” 

“I knew the paper needed a fill-in for Fred. I figured maybe it was time to try something new and as much as my mom would love it if I learned how to sew and bake apple strudel in the home ec room, photography seemed more interesting.” 

You nod at her, “What about band? Do you still play an instrument?”

“I do. But I don’t know how far I’d get in college by playing the trumpet.” 

“Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Is the paper for college then?” 

“Sort of.” You can tell she needs a little encouragement, a signal to know you’re just as curious about her. 

“C’mon Robin! That was hardly an ‘answer’ answer. I gave you a peek at a childhood dream. A little embarrassing one, at that.” 

“Wait, no! I thought it was cute, not at all embarrassing.” You hang onto that one word, despite all logical reasoning not to. She’s means 7 year old you. It’s normal to say anything a kid does is cute. But still, the word cute is echoing in your very tired brain. While you’re lost in thought, Robin’s spurred on by you, so she reaches into her backpack and pulls out the book she’s been reading. 

You take the book into your hands and eye the cover and read it aloud, “‘Making Movies by Sidney Lumet’?” 

It’s actually unnerving to say aloud, seeing as she hasn’t even verbalized it to anyone. Even if this little corner booth and cold night somehow feel like a little universe in which it’s just you two and some ice slinking in your cups, Robin is still waiting for something to go astray. In all likelihood, it would come from her saying something wrong, and then she’d have to quit the paper and lose a new acquaintance all in one fell swoop. It wouldn’t be fair. It’s her first day on the paper, she hasn’t even gotten to see how the pictures she took today came out. The ugly nervous edge in her brain starts to go away with more time she spends talking to you, it’d be a crime if she was the one to stop something before it started. She tries not to feel the weight of your question, and fails, but takes one look at you and changes her mind. You’re looking back at her with pure interest, maybe Robin is being naive but her intuition is telling her there’s no ulterior motive here. You just look like you want to know about her, and that’s already scary in its own right. So Robin answers you, “I picked it up at the used bookstore when I was a freshman. I don’t even remember if I thought much about it other than that it was only $2…but I really like movies. Not just enough to work at Family Video, but more than that, I guess. And, I don’t know, I’ve always wondered what’d it be like to be behind the camera and when school started this year I kind of freaked out about the future. Even now, I still freak out. But I felt like if I spent enough time behind a camera this year… eventually a video camera wouldn’t feel so far off.” Immediately after she feels like she’s having a bad dream where she’s in her underwear on stage and the audience is fully dressed. Maybe I said too much? Did any of that make sense? Was I babbling? I was definitely babbling. But then you look at her nicer than anyone who isn’t her mom has looked at her in a long, long time. You’re looking at her like you get it, and that she wasn’t being incomprehensible and babbling. You open the book and find your note stuffed in between a chapter on the basics of directing. Room 122. Wear sneakers. It’s such a little thing. Robin probably just shoved it into whatever was closest to her so she wouldn’t lose it. But still, it makes something in your stomach flip to know she kept it. 

“Is that the plan? Film school somewhere on the West Coast…getting to sit in that uncomfortable-looking chair and direct everybody around?” There is no meanness in your asking, it’s just fun to tease her a little. 

“Something like that.” She does this crooked half smile, and it mildly annoys you because you don’t know why but you want to say something to make her smile fully. You like Robin. You like her enough to consider asking for the second marachino cherry in her shirley temple, but decide against it. It’d be too much. You’d scare Robin into politely saying yes and probably regretting it. It’s something a closer friend would ask, and you aren’t that to her. Robin’s felt like the conversation has stayed about her for a bit too long. She teases you back, “But your plans must not be far off either. Writing at a big paper on the East Coast…draining the souls of more people but this time they’re college students wearing loafers?” 

You secretly hate how witty she can be, but decide to deadpan instead. “Ha-ha. If directing doesn’t work out you might have a spot on Saturday Night Live waiting for you.” 

“We’d both be on the East Coast, then.” 

“Yeah, I guess we would be.” It’s fun to talk about the future like this. Like it isn’t hiding around the corner waiting to kidnap you, but rather something light and fanciful. Robin is twisting at a ring on her finger and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks a little tired, but so do you. The diner is going to close soon and since it’s a school night you both should head out. That still seems like the last thing you want to do, because it’ll disrupt this little space in time you and Robin spent carving out with each other today. When was the last time you made a new friend? “Can I ask you something, Robin?” 

She doesn’t look nervous like you were expecting her to. She just chews on the fry and replies, “Shoot.” 

“Do you ever feel like…stuck? I mean, here, in Hawkins.” 

She doesn’t have to think about it before answering you, “Yeah. A lot, actually.” There’s a pause, you glance at your waitress wiping the counter, and refilling someone’s coffee. 

Your tiredness is probably doing more of the talking than it should be. “I just hope college is…different I guess. I hate that feeling like…the walls are closing in or something.” You worry you sound too serious or sad. You’re thinking of a joke to make to give yourself an out. But then Robin interjects your thoughts. 

“I know what you mean. Sometimes, I’d rather die than think about still being here after high school.” There’s only empathy in her tone. You’re not sure what you expected from Robin, but under different circumstances, it feels like you two would’ve never crossed paths. Okay, never, is an exaggeration. Maybe you guys would’ve exchanged ‘hi’s’ at Nancy’s graduation party, or she would’ve rung up your rentals at Family Video, or you would’ve seen her playing the trumpet for two seconds at a pep rally before sticking your head down into your notepad and continuing to take your notes of the event. But over a plate of cheesy fries that are long gone by now, you two are something resembling friends. 

“You don’t have to die to get to a better place,” You tell her, “just drive 50 miles in any direction.” She’s laughing into her jacket sleeve, because she knows you’re right. You’re laughing with her. There’s a whole month left before you guys go to print for the next issue. It’s nice to know that Robin’s your partner for the next month, nice to know you have time together. For paper purposes, of course. 

#robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x reader #robin fanfic #robin headcanon #robin stranger things #robin buckley #my writing

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

first love // slow burn

🎶slow burn by the world alive

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] as promised this is from Steve's perspective, but be warned things are about to get messy from here on out...

[warnings?] angst ofc, sorta manipulation, oblivious idiots

first love masterlist here!

Hiraeth- the longing for a home to which you can’t return, a home which maybe never was. A devastatingly beautiful word that Steve found resonated deep within him, burying itself inside his hollow soul. It seemed no matter what he did or where he went he would never feel at ease, constantly on alert like a lion being stalked by its prey, all until one day everything went quiet. 

You were both kids when you first met, wide eyed and ready for an adventure, even if that meant doing things you would most definitely regret later on. Nonetheless you’d made years worth of memories within the first couple months of your ever-growing friendship, memories you wouldn’t trade for anything or anyone. From the time you’d slept outside with nothing but a couple pillows and blankets to keep you warm, resulting in a horrible cold turned flu for the both of you, or the time you thought it would be funny to tie yourselves to each other for the day, ending up with you breaking your arm and Steve getting his first of many black eyes. 

He was there when when your world got turned upside down, he’d watched from afar when your parents began to turn, their usually happy go lucky attitude morphing into that of a monster, offering you comfort when you needed and a safe place to rest your tired eyes. He became the constant that you so desperately seeked and in return you gave him a reason to wake up every morning, you were the quiet breaking through his horrifyingly loud mind. 

He couldn’t understand the rapid beat of his heart threatening to break through his rib cage whenever you got too close, nor the sweaty palms he’d find himself constantly wiping to avoid disgusting you, as if that could ever happen. Spending almost a decade of never thinking twice about his feelings it wasn’t until the end of 86’ when Robin started dating Vicky that he realised what love really was. Forget all the sappy smooth sailing bullshit, he’d watched the two be forced to love in secret. To keep their relationship on the down low for their own safety and despite all of their hardships, years later they were getting ready to move onto the next chapter of their lives, together. 

Love wasn’t something obvious and sickening. It wasn’t something that screamed obnoxious and in your face. Love was silent and deadly, it took its time wiggling its way inside of you until you were too far gone to realise. Love was addicting and unexpected, the quiet he felt with you grounding and allowing him a second chance at living. It was obvious but scary, yet somehow so enticing he would happily get burnt if it meant you would love him as he loved you. 

Love was the small actions that showed you cared, it was the non-sexual but intimate afternoons spent lazing around talking about everything and nothing. It was only then that it dawned on Steve that he was in love with you, but with that revelation came the panic and fear gripping ahold of him and sending him into overdrive.

Love was what led him to now. Unlike the fairytales love was like anything; poisonous and fatal at uncontrolled doses. It was the ignorance of thinking only you knew best without informing the other party. Love was a darkness that grew bitter if not tended to, the rain cloud that fogged your thoughts and led to stupid avoidable mistakes. Love was a chance, a bet, the fate of your future left in the hands of uncertainty, the pain of losing someone you never had in the first place. 

Rebecca was a welcome convenience, causing a tornado of emotions that allowed him to get so caught up in the whirlwind that was her that he’d forgotten the calm and comfort of you. Almost unconsciously he set her up to fail by putting her on a pedestal so high up it was impossible to reach. After all you were the one he held a candle for, the one who ran around him mind endlessly, you were imperfectly perfect that nobody could ever compare. 

Although, at the time he hadn’t thought too much about it, living for the now and acting on impulses he should’ve got under control a long time ago. The distance between you and him had begun to stretch months before he’d met her, neither of you knowing what to do about it or why it was happening. From the constant excuses from either side and the busy schedules it was easy to forget what you had, especially since both of you were in denial, choosing to carry the burden to the grave then to be free once and for all. 

Luckily Steve had been digging his grave for a while, with the fear of returning to the surface weighing down on him he continued to dig until he couldn’t any more. At a standstill unsure of what to do he stood up taking the pack of smokes from the nightstand and stumbling his way to the balcony leaving an upset Rebecca alone in the unwelcoming bed originally meant for you and him.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

[a/n] reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged!

Other works available here!

Taglist: @freezaz123

#stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington angst #Joe keery #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things x reader #x reader #pbs-thedesecrated #pbs-firstlove

[ssahotchnerr]

okay so my idea was that reader is the first girl that hotch has dated since haley died and they’ve been together for a while when he says he’s ready to take it to the next level, and just as it starts he loses it, starts crying, and she comforts him and asks if he wants to continue and the rest is up to you! i love hurt and comfort.

omg i will cry

tw; nsfw, mentions of death, grief

please this would be such a bittersweet moment for aaron :( <3 he would be so excited to take the next step in your relationship but the guilt would so overwhelming at first. like yes he and haley have been separated for a while, but his first time after would result in so many different emotions all at once, revolving around both you and haley. he would have mentally prepared himself for this too, but that’s nothing compared to it actually happening. 

of course, you would immediately comfort him and profusely assure him that if he isn’t ready yet, there’s perfectly nothing wrong with that. but he would feel. so. bad. because of haley of course, but he also wouldn’t want you to question where your relationship is at with him; he would be so scared that it would somehow make you feel as if you aren’t enough or doing enough. but that’s not true!  this would definitely result in the two of you talking it out, regardless if you both move forward in this particular moment. 

and if he feels comfortable enough to take that next step, (or just whenever he does) the two of you would have the sweetest sex ever ohmygod <3 he would take suchhh good care of you and vice versa. you would constantly check in on him to make sure he’s still doing alright and given this is the first time he’s had sex again since haley, and it’s with you, he’s way more than alright. the guilt is gone, and he’s solely focused on making sure he’s making you feel good and focused on just you overall. and after this, he definitely doesn’t hesitate to initiate anything in the future <3

i know this isn’t in like a fic format or anything so i hope that suffices! this is literally just my starting point and hopefully i get better as time goes on!! 🫶🏻 so y’all better keep sending in thoughts hehe

#this aaron era makes me so 🥺 #if only cm focused more on the characters because this would've been so interesting to see aaron maneuver through </3 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x smut #hotch x reader

[co-mixed]

All Hell Breaks Loose (again)

Ed Brubaker’s take on Daredevil made me want to talk about so many things at once. 

Let's start at the beginning or rather at the source of all the problems - Matt Murdock. Before I start trashing him, and that is inevitable, I want to make it clear  - his never-ending list of personal flaws is what makes his books frustratingly enjoyable. And when everyone says that Miller created the foundation his future books stand on, it's that gray area in which his morals reside, that I look back on. He is a hero and he is not a good person.

That's arguably the most interesting type of character: one who believes they're doing the right thing and believes they're willing to sacrifice their personal happiness to achieve that. But in reality, Matt is extremely selfish and inconsiderate. He often gives in to his passions and anger, believing he has been pushed towards the edge. He blames himself almost as much as he does everyone around him. I would probably put him in the same bin as Angel or Batman. Except Bats can step away from his selfishness for his mission and Angel is kind of all over the place. Either way, this is as much of a compliment as it is a judgment.

Who the Hell is Milla?

Matt’s personal life makes up a good half of Brubaker's run. He gives him happiness and he takes it away in an old-fashioned damsel-in-distress way. Milla is a 100% cardboard lady who was created to advance the plot. We know this won't last and frankly, it still lasted longer than I expected. But she is an entirely helpless person thrown into Matt's bizarre world. Anyone who's not a superhero (or villain, hi, Typhoid), would be. She is an antipode of Echo and she is a pre-Nocenti Karen type.

She is also a rebound gone too far, whether or not Matt is willing to admit that. He is stubborn in his search for simple happiness and he keeps refusing the fact that it's either one or the other for him. I think he doesn't realize he's not Spider-Man and for a person, who's supposed to be clever, he makes truly unintelligent decisions. 

In a way too Batman arc, Milla ends up in a mental health facility, catatonic, as a result of being poisoned by Mr. Fear. What I do appreciate is that the effect, at least for the entirety of Brubaker's run, is permanent. To make matters worse, they are still married when Matt sleeps with Dakota North (who was conveniently reintroduced as a former model). And then Milla’s parents reasonably sue for custody. 

Now here is when my lack of respect for Matt Murdock hits a new low: he intends to fight them. He actually has the audacity to face her parents who very well know what he is and who he does, and claim that he should be the one responsible for her. As if he hadn't done enough damage, which is what they say. Yes, he eventually gives up but not for the right reasons. He just can't cut losses and accept yet another destruction as his fault. He fights it for himself and his conscience, which somehow still functions. 

What makes matters worse, he still insists on “making things right” with Dakota because what would he really be if he didn't drag one more woman into his mess? Meanwhile, Dakota is potentially a badass, and if anything, that relationship could've worked much better than the others. Especially considering how she repeatedly refused to be signed off as a helpless love interest. I guess that's not Matt's type.

I have a beautiful theory and maybe 30% of a long read on how superheroes should only date each other. This guy provides 70% of my reasoning. 

Speaking of Law...

Matt's disastrous love life plays very well alongside the action and detective arcs. I can't say it's focusing on the lawyer side of things: Foggy and Becky do most of the lifting in that department and half of the time their job is actually defending Matt. The other - Matt provides a stellar clientele in the form of his former rogues gallery or his wife (yes, nice and sweet Milla had accidentally killed a man.) Matt is running around town creating new problems. 

The run starts with Matt in Riker's. He ends up there after Kingpin makes a successful deal with the FBI. Considering he has already proven he wasn't Daredevil and a person can't be tried for the same crime twice, I’m not sure how this makes sense. Honestly, I’m not a lawyer so I won't try and get into that. Either way, Matt escapes prison parading as Punisher's hostage. Let me say, that was a brilliant plan and a masterful cameo. Frank sees the headlines and immediately gets himself arrested, knowing he will have to help Daredevil escape. This is a long shot too, as you see the events play out and pretty much forget Frank is there. Definitely one of the comic book whoa moments, that I think would play extremely well if it ever makes its way to our screens.

World Tour

After his escape, Matt charges off to Europe to track down the person seemingly responsible for all his misfortunes. That's such a classic move from him, you half expect it to be a setup. Well, you also know it is. And then the events get chaotic but lead to none other than Vanessa Fisk. 

We last saw Vanessa when she offed her own son, Fisk Jr, after he participated in an attempt at Kingpin’s life, poetically modeled after that of Julius Caesar. So here Vanessa is poisoned by what she's done and is dying. For that, she very fairly blames Matt and Wilson. And she delivered the truest thing I have heard in the run so far: how selfish and clueless about that Matt is. This is what helps her set him up, and this is why she knows he would do what she tells him. Vanessa gives a beautiful insight into the never-ending fight between Daredevil and Kingpin. And yeah, you know it's true even if they manage to achieve a weak semblance of peace. Vanessa warns you it's not forever and you don't doubt her words for a second. 

So Matt weasels his way out of Riker's. And at this point, you can see vividly the cracks in his image of a noble believer in law and justice. He hasn't believed in law for a long while now, and he breaks it every chance he gets. But now he lives in lies upon lies. 

Not So Secret Identity

There's another element that Brubaker utilized well: everyone in New York knows who he is. Matt Murdock is Daredevil, which may be unspoken, and some people may claim he isn't, but everyone knows he is. So what happens next? Despite believing the world would fall apart around a hero whose identity is well-known, not much changes. People on the streets don't really care that much. Villains weigh their options when going against him. Those closest to him weren't safe to begin with. There's also a panel in one of the special issues, that shows Spider-Man’s monologue on the matter. And he says he always knew that would happen but expected he’d get there first.

And you know what? Spider fears aside, I think this is the most realistic interpretation of what having your secret identity leaked would be like. If you work it out with the feds and smooth out all the legal issues, people will quickly move on to the next thing. Everyone will be calling you by your name and there would be no need to look aside every time Bruce Wayne adopts a new kid and Batman miraculously obtains a new sidekick. But hey, at least Bats manages to train everyone around them, so he doesn't need to feel that bad when they die. 

Where to Next?

Brubaker leaves Matt's story on a high note, and his parting gift for Daredevil is another one of my favorite tropes. He gets the offer to lead the Hand. And when the offer is on the table, you know he has to take it. He doesn't even have extenuating circumstances like Angel did when he took over Wolfram & Hart, he is just that vain, tired, and selfish. He believes he’s doing it so it doesn't go to Wilson Fisk and he very well knows he's being manipulated by Izo. But something in him believes he will be able not to get corrupted. Of course, he believes that, and of course, I’m eagerly awaiting to see him proven wrong. 

Not All There Is

I am focusing on the writing here but an integral part of this run is art (mostly) by Michael Lark. His work follows Maleev’s style from Bendis’s run: similar panel structure and similar color scheme (I suppose that was more of a colorist+editorial achievement). But just like one run very smoothly morphs into the next, art continues to support the narrative. Daredevil comics work best with rainy, grainy, broody visuals and this duo certainly understood the assignment. I rarely talk about this, but we know that building a visual narrative is just as important as constructing a good word structure. And every close-up has to be in the right place and lead you to a massive splash page. Daredevil doesn't give you a lot of those, I believe, helps build and limit the scale of events. DD is an unfriendly neighborhood character and he doesn't need epic appearances. He stalks, which is best shown in this run’s art. 

To sum it all up, I enjoyed this run so much. It gave enough soap-level drama while keeping the interpersonal conflicts very human and very unheroic. It never steps into the realm of unrealistic, despite all the superpowers. It’s perfectly structured and split into interconnected case-like arcs that bleed into one another effortlessly. Most importantly, the creative team knows how to build up intrigue, where to pause and resume the story, how to leave you wanting more and give you a breather. So far it's been my favorite Daredevil run that dragged the devil through figurative hell and never quite brought him back.

#comics #marvel comics #marvel #comic books #marvel universe #comic book review #long reads #spoilers #daredevil #matt murdock #ed brubaker

[hellcab]

Roth's new bio ( VER-2 )

Among the living, Roth ( Marion ) Kruger was a mordacious, contemptuous jerk. Damnation made him worse.

Roth’s life was a nightmare of circumstances, outside his control. Abandoned by his parents, Roth became a ward to the state at eight years old. He spent his childhood at Saint Emiliani Orphanage, in New York City. Eventually, Roth was aged out from the system, thrusting him into the world. Despite his rough upbringing, Roth wanted to make something out of himself.

Yet, failure was his only option. The first domino was being framed for plagiarism at New York University, by someone he once considered a friend. Despite his pleas, Roth’s protest fell on deaf ears. He was ushered out, blacklisted to further his humiliation. From there, Roth’s life spiraled out of control.

Struggling for work, Roth found employment with the checker cab company. The job, though grueling, kept Roth above water to survive. Around this time, he collected a group of friends, notably Nina Roberston and Scott Holden. Nina was a self-made fashion designer living in Harlem, whom Roth dated. Nina was the light in his life, a reminder that there’s still good. Scott was a troubled veteran, who was disgraced after it was revealed he shared information with his North Vietnamese captors. This “betrayal” was to save a wounded comrade, whom The Vietnamese were withholding medicine from. It was Scott’s fate that eventually broke Roth.

After a heated argument, Roth abandoned Scott at a bar. Scott was forced to walk home, where he was accosted by two NYPD officers. Without much provocation,  the officers started beating Scott for “resisting arrest”. Scott though, managed to fight back and try to escape, not wanting to hurt anyone. For his trouble, he was shot. The bullet pierced his back and paralyzed him. Scott later died during surgery, when doctors tried removing the slug from his spinal cord.

Nina was the first to tell Roth, which devastated him. Unable to process the grief and regret, Roth suffered a nervous breakdown. In his madness, he took out his pain and frustration out on Nina. The result left her heartbroken. On that night, Roth lost all his friends and his religion. Proclaiming that, there’s no God. Roth’s erratic behavior saw him fired from his job, losing his apartment and becoming an outcast.

In 1979, of that same year, Roth was murdered.

At night, Roth was on the Brooklyn bridge. He had nothing left, no friends, no home, and no hope for the future. There, he struggled to jump. Someone came along, to choose for him. The Wire, an infamous serial killer, ambushed Roth on the bridge. Despite the surprise, Roth fought back with every inch of his life. Unfortunately, The Wire won in the end.

Roth was thrown over the bride, landing into the freezing waters below. The impact didn’t kill Roth, but the drowning took him. A week later, Roth’s corpse was found by harbor workers. Police ruled his death a suicide. Nina, still heartbroken, had Roth buried with money she earned through her shop.

In Heaven, Roth arrived well ahead of time. He was shown in, thinking he somehow made it. Roth’s delusions were soon crushed, as he was put on trial. A committee of angels decided Roth’s fate, while his guardian Angel defended him. For prosecution, Dearie made the argument for Roth’s damnation. The committee sided with Dearie, much to Roth’s horror. Out of desperation, Roth blindly thought he could escape the courtroom. At the door, he was greeted by an Exorcist.  

The Exorcist subdued Roth, dragging him away as he screamed and begged. He was soon thrown into Hades, into Hell.

In Hell, Roth was surprised. It wasn’t the inferno described by Dante, but a world of excess and vice. It reminded Roth of New York’s seedier parts, all condensed into one and overexposed. But Roth was still frightened beyond belief. Even more so, he was horrified by his demonic appearance. In his first few weeks into eternal damnation, Roth once again became a fervent follower of Christ. Though, he soon accepted that his prayers of rescue could never be answer. Alone, with just his grit and gut-instinct, Roth survived.

In 1983, Roth landed a job with The Gehenna Cab Company, one which provided enough to afford his own apartment. He found friends, he even found love. That love being Maple Kovacs, an erotic dancer who dreamed about becoming a song writer. Maple worked at Club Ice, owned and operated by Eduardo, an iguana demon.  Together, Roth and Maple had a fun and romantic life together.

This was not for long.

In 1987, Eduardo was “convinced” into selling Club Ice to Valentino. He was later found dead in his apartment, by an apparent overdose. Valentino now owned the club, including every single contract. He sought to make sure his new “employees” stayed loyal.  Soon, Valentino was informed about Roth’s relationship with Maple. Seeing Roth as an unnecessary distraction for Maple, Valentino sent his problem solver to educate Roth. It was here Roth first met Robert Milhaud, the man who would ruin his life again.

Arriving home one late night, Roth and Maple were greeted by Robert and his associates. Despite fighting back, Roth and Maple were both subdued. Forced to watch, Roth was beaten nearly to death in front of Maple. Taking Maple to Valentino, Robert warned Roth that if he continues his relationship with Maple, he will hurt her. Roth despite loving Maple, choose ending the relationship rather than risking her death.  Over the next couple of weeks, Roth received call after call from Maple, begging Roth to see her.

Roth ignored every message, not wanting to risk her safety.

On Extermination Day, of 1989, Maples apartment ( her prison ) was destroyed by Adam’s exterminators. Though Maple was never found, it was assumed she died. Roth couldn’t attend the funeral but watched from afar. He felt nothing but hatred towards Valentino, for what he had done. More than anything, he hated himself for what he allowed. He failed Maple. Just as he failed so many people before.

In 1992, Roth was growing more and more resentful towards Hell. He wanted desperately to escape. There was nothing left, no future, no peace down below. It was around this time; Roth had a chance encounter with Vincent Andras. Demonstrating a simple magic trick, Vincent connected with Roth and eventually brought him to Ultima Discordia. The group were dedicated practitioners of chaos magick. Vincent Andras, a man stepped in the new wave of occult knowledge during the 1970s, wanted to share his knowledge with Roth. Perhaps, even, a way to escape Hell.  All he wanted was Roth’s unquestioning loyalty.

Roth accepted his offer. Willingly.

In the coming years, Roth studied under Vincent Andras, with both men becoming close friends. Yet, slowly, and surely, Roth started questioning how genuine his friend was. Andras was determined, caring little about the personal dangers of magic. This drive for knowledge withered the collective sanity and health of the cult. Discussions soon turned to arguments, as Roth and Vincent’s relationship was strained. In 1995, the cult came into possession an ancient Tibetan Scroll, named ཨ་ཀོ་ཧ་ཐི་ཡི་སྒོ་མོ། , or Doors of Agharti, contained thirty intricate Mandalas. Vincent explained that “Doors of Agharti” was their key to freedom. A doorway to the realm of ultimate peace. After four years of grueling work, they finally translated the scroll.

Om October 25th, 1998, the cult underwent the ritual to reach Agharti. The journey was harsh, as Vincent, Roth and the cult suffered both hunger and hallucinations. Yet, after so much suffering, the final mandala was reached.

The ritual failed.

All laws of reality were made void. Something arrived, something hungry. During the confusion, insanity and ravenous violence, Vincent and Roth managed to escape. Despite their fear and weakened mental states, they knew they must seal the doorway. Miraculously,   they managed to seal the doorway, sending whatever came back through. Yet, the price for this victory was steep. The cult was dead, with Vincent and Roth being the only survivors.

Both men blamed each other for the disaster. Roth rebukes Vincent, swearing he will never work with him again. Severa days later, Roth suffered an acute nervous breakdown, screaming about “Thousands and Thousands of Teeth”. He was admitted into psychiatric help, at The Walter Freeman Memorial Hospital. There, Roth was eventually diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder.

From 1998 to 2002, Roth was given the help he needed to resume a normal life. It was around this time, he met Guns Akimbo, a mercenary and gun dealer based on Pride. Guns Akimbo was instrumental in arming Gehenna Cabs during the “Great Cab War” of 2003, which saw widespread violence through Pentagram City. The event was even covered by Alastor, with great amusement.

Afterwards, Roth and Guns assumed a sexual relationship, that blossomed into romance. Unfortunately, their conflicting personalities caused their breakup. They remain on rather hostile terms.

Now, in 2024, Roth Kruger is still trying to escape Hell. He believes that through magic, he can defy Lucifer, Heaven and everyone who ever doubted him.

But, then again, his magic comes at a price. His own sanity is slowly and surely being drained. Resulting in Roth becoming more and more unhinged.

There’s also on important Rule, Roth has broken in magic.

A knocked door cannot be unknocked.

#roth kruger. #{{ 1550 WORDS!!!!! }} #{{ nAH I'm not using this for the bio section. I'm just gonna make a basic info bio for expediency. But I'll keep this on the side. }} #{{ For headcanon purposes. }}

[raviefm]

“Being independent at this age is a good thing.”

“I want a daughter as independent as you.”

BUT

“You grew up too fast.”

“Is your childhood even considered a childhood?”

Being independent at 16 is a good thing. Making your own decisions. Learning how to navigate the world. Planning a path for the future.

But always people fail to take into account that I started becoming independent at 8 not 16.

My mother stopped bothering to take care of me when I was 8. I survived on take out constantly. I went to school on my own while I watched my friends get sent off by their parents, silently wishing I was them. I listened as my friends went on and on about their parents. I had nothing to say during those conversations. Never had, never will.

9 was the age when I started travelling on my own. I would travel to wherever my mother asked me to, running errands on her behalf and meeting up w her. I started to envy my friends whose parents were always there for them no matter what. Their parents were there when it was hard, when it was easy, when it was not needed. Their parents were there for them every step of the way.

10 was the age when the scolding started. Harsh words were thrown at me with no mercy. I sat through hour-long “lectures” of my mother lamenting about her life, her bad choices and everything else in between. In my mother’s eyes, I was not a child who needed protection. I was already independent after all. The chore of cleaning the house fell on my shoulders, along with doing the laundry and preparing the food. “Practice,” she said. “You will need it for when I am gone.”

11 was the age I applied to every competition, every programme and every award possible. I wanted recognition. I wanted some sort of sign that I was something to my mother. But no matter how well I performed, how many awards I won and how many exams I excelled at, she was never there. She was not there when I received certificate after certificate. She was not there when I won prize after prize. Eventually, I did get my recognition from her, in the most negative way possible. I was simply a nuisance. Always had been.

12 was the age when I had to take a major exam. I studied day and night. Sleeping at 3-4am became the norm for me. My friends did not understand why I was pushing myself so much. They watched me push myself to the breaking point and over it. They watched as I broke again and again yet somehow always pieced myself back together. For every single exam, I walked into the exam hall, exhausted and burnt out, running on less than 4 hours of sleep. When the collection date for the results arrived, I watched as my classmates celebrated with their parents their family. Meanwhile, I was alone and so very painstakingly aware of the fact that my mother was free, she simply did not bother to come. That night, I was scolded and beaten for not scoring better grades despite scoring one of the best results in the class. But of course my mother was unaware, she was not there. She never was.

I started becoming independent when I was 8. Yet at 16, it still hurts as bad as ever, when my family is absent for one of the most important moments of my life.

Independence is a hard lesson to learn. For every lesson learnt, a price will have to be paid. In my case, the price for my independence was the loss of my childhood.

[synthetickitsune]

Angst number 9 with Xiumin? Thank you!

Hello, thank you for requesting! I hope this is fine ♡

Xiumin (EXO) | Guardian Angel AU angst | 0.8k

Minseok’s been an angel for a long time. 

He remembers his youth, the bright and naive innocence in his eyes and soul as he explored Heaven and Earth. Everything was new and fascinating. He was so curious. His heart was soft, much softer than some of the others’. At least he used to think that.

But something must have changed. 

It’s no wonder really. As perfect of a being as an angel might be, they as a kind are subjects to change as well. No one can run away from it entirely. Least of all those who are forced to watch the people they care about suffer and eventually die. Angels are meant to be perfect, yet this is the one thing they share with humans.

Minseok has seen his fair share of pain. He’s been an angel for a long time, much longer than he can count and he’s watched over the same number of humans. He remembers all of them. Various memorabilia of all his, well, charges doesn’t seem the right word so let’s just say his humans are stored safely in his home.

Sometimes he likes to walk around and go over them again and recollect the memories of those precious times as his fingers linger on each item.

Maybe that’s the problem - that he lingers so much on the memories. That’s as close to an explanation as to why he seems so cold now compared to his fellow angel friends as he got.

But honestly, that’s what the problem is - that he seems cold but isn’t. Not really.

Because if he was, then maybe he wouldn’t be scolding himself over and over in his head as he watches you put a bandaid on your heel that’s rubbed sore and bleeding from the high heels you wore the entire evening. He should’ve added some weight to the thought you’ve had about wearing comfortable shoes rather than the ones more likely to impress - the ones you’ve chosen in the end. Maybe you’d still disregard it even with his guidance, but at least he could say he’s tried. Then again, the intricacies of human clothing and fashion are still quite lost on him.

He can’t protect you from everything, and he should be grateful that it was only a little bleeding patch on your heel this time, but he’s feeling guilty nonetheless. He’s gone through too many heartbreaks, and it seems that each one is more severe than the last. Maybe that’s why he’s growing guarded and each failure to protect you perfectly eats at him.

Though it does lift his mood a little when he influences you just enough that it prevents you from smiling at the stranger you’ve met eyes with in your favorite café on another day. You mentally kick yourself for it, and Minseok knows, but really, he’d rather take five minutes of your sulking and beating yourself up over the alternative. 

Unbeknownst to you, your smile would result in the stranger approaching you. You’d chat, exchange your numbers, get closer, and then you’d meet a friend of your new friend, and you’d start dating. The relationship would start beautifully and you’d be as happy as you can be, but it’d end three years, dozens of broken plates and one hard slap to his precious human later. You’d never be the same, and he doesn’t want that. Not when he can help it and not when he knows there must be a better future for you somewhere. He’ll help guide you there.

But until he finds that future for you, he’ll stay by your side and monitor your choices dutifully. He’ll help if he can. And if he can’t, he’ll be there for you even if you don’t know it, even if you can’t feel it. He hopes you can tell, somehow, that someone’s watching over you, although he knows there’s no way you could. It breaks his heart to watch you cry yourself to sleep, feeling so alone despite him being right there.

When he was young, he’d lay down with his humans. Wrap his arms and wings around them, pet their hair and hope for a miracle, hope that they’ll sense his presence and his comfort and feel hopeful and reassured, but it never happened.

Watching you now, not happy, not sad, merely exhausted and longing for something, he remembers those times. He hasn’t done that in a long time.

Eventually, he bites the bullet. He feels awkward as he joins you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you, his wings following suit. He lays his head on your shoulder. You’re radiating warmth that seems to fill him up with emotions long forgotten. 

It’s foolish, but when he sees you smile, he imagines it’s not because of whatever you’re doing on your phone, but because you can feel him.

Maybe that’s the problem. That he’s too willing to have his heart broken for a brief moment of all-encompassing happiness.

#exo #xiumin #exo reactions #exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo x reader #drabble #angst #guardian angel au #requested

[obsidiancreates]

Descendents of the trio AU:

Ok ok, if Yancy does have some kind of borderline asthma—Have some more headcanons!

He has an aversion to smoke, because it causes him to cough as well as some strong colognes/perfumes. The brothers always try to keep him either away from scents or things that they know will trigger him into a coughing fit.

If they can’t get away from it—Space hands him a clean rag that he’d normally use while working on machinery, Date will hand him a napkin or handkerchief—All the brothers usually have some kind of material for Yancy to cover his mouth and nose if he does. Also something for him to cough into without breathing in the same triggering air.

When Dark catches Space giving Yancy a rag for the first time, it reminds him of Damien doing the same for Wilford when they were younger…back when smoking was much more popular. He’d do it very discretely to not cause harm to the Colonel’s reputation. Just Damien would sneakily hand the handkerchief to William when the two would be next to one another at a party. The Colonel would likely cough a few times before giving a silent nod of thanks. Wilford doesn’t have any trouble in the present because his ‘madness’ abilities have somehow placed him at the peak of physical health…or at least healed the issue.

I think Yancy doesn’t like to talk about having the occasional issue with his asthma. It might be something that he might think as a weakness (like the stereotypical wheezing child with an inhaler) and doesn’t match his tough guy persona.

I wonder if Yancy’s hesitancy to reveal his asthma would’ve resulted in a more serious attack—like say Heist does a prank where he puts a pressure trap which releases like a paint-bomb (bonus points…it’s pink! Maybe gold glitter too?) or a smokescreen.

Heist thinks it’s hilarious when Yancy triggers the trap, unaware of his adoptive brother’s condition. He waits for Yancy to laugh along with him, knowing the other may find the joke funny as well.

Yet, for several moments, there’s no laugher—only an increasingly loud wheezing noise, which quickly escalates to coughing.

Yancy doubles over trying to breathe.

Heist’s eyes widen in surprise as he tries to support his brother in absolute terror—What has he done?

—Melody anon

TTTOTTT

I once had to leave the classroom during class because they were using these huge Sharpies that just filled the room with toxic fumes that nearly triggered an attack, a strong paint smell like that would absolutely decommission Yancy.

He has the cigarettes in his sleeve purely for the aesthetics, and once the brothers know about his asthma Space makes him an inhaler the same size and shape to carry in his sleeve instead! Yancy appreciates it greatly.

Heist rushes Yancy to the doctor's office in the mansion and Dr. Iplier's eyes go wide. "I'm sorry, he's-"

"I know!" Heist snaps. "Why the fuck is he dying, though?!"

They have to set him up on a big machine to help him breathe (I had that happen when I was really little and we discovered I had asthma, can't remember much about it alas... would be a great reference point for this if I could). Wilford and Dark get home in that time and Wilford just stares at Yancy in the bed, unblinking. "Why's he sleeping?"

Dark is shaking, because he remember nearly losing William a few times back when they were kids, why did he never think to test Yancy for the same affliction? Because he's Wilford's kid, not William's, dammit Dark needs to stop thinking of it like that if this is the consequence, if Yancy can inherit things from when Wilford was William, and shit, does that mean Space could inherit things from Damien and/or Celine? Did they have any major medical issues Space could end up having? Did The Future cure those potential ails already? Is Yancy going to pull through?

He does, of course. His asthma is manageable enough with a regular inhaler. He does hate it, though. Not sure if this is just a Me thing but my inhaler makes me Incredibly Shaky and Unbalanced. He would hate that, but he uses it when he needs to because his brothers worry and because-

Well. For a moment, Wilford remembered people can die. He cried, when Yancy woke up. He cried in relief. And he didn't remember that he remembered anything afterwards, but for a moment there he knew He Could Possibly Lose Yancy Forever.

So Yancy takes care to try and manage his asthma, and his brothers take care to assure him it doesn't make him seem weak or ruin his image. And when Space gives him the custom inhaler, he finally accepts that as truth.

#descendants of the trio au #markiplier #markiplier egos #ahwm yancy #yancy #yancy markiplier #markiplier yancy