#i had to deal with a friend belittling and laughing over it

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: That one episode of teen titans where they all dress up as Robin + Tim being a gremlin about his legacy + Danny look alike/twin AU.

So there is that episode of Teen Titans where Starfire, Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven all dress as Robin (Dick) while he's out and it's admitted that the outfit makes them feel cool. Imagine a young Tim hearing that story mentioned in passing by Dick while trying to manage what becomes Young Just-us. And then when Damain becomes Robin?? Gremlin mode activated.

Tim hosts regular 'Robin' Parties, where the idea is that you come in Robin colors, get a mask at the door and everyone gets to basically hang out in civilian clothes without the identity crises for those just getting started. "age appropriate" drinks, games, and good music are all staples. The parties become more frequent once Damian becomes Robin and he pointedly doesn't attend Tim's parties which... Neither of them are really happy about. Family is complicated, but finally, after a few years of cooling off, it's decided that Robin will actually host this years Robin party.

Meaning Tim shows up in casual clothes (MIT sweatshirt) and a mask, and Damian is actually dressed as Robin when the party is starting to get into the swing of things. The point of it is to make sure all the young heroes get to come and start to befriend each other, so there are a few people who show up and have to actually say that they're *insert alias* and this is met with basically "Dope, nice to meet you Robin" etc.

Insert Danny Twin AU (Or just look-alike fuckery) (for either brother but my brain is on Tim Twin au mode).

Danny decides to show up as his human self, grabs a mask at the door before coming in, and is slowly integrating himself into a conversation when someone grabs his arm- "Hey Red your brother is fighting with a newbie about meat products again-"

And Danny doesn't have a brother but my god has he heard this fight too many times with Sam and Tucker- He's going in and he's defusing this situation because he cannot handle the thought of this argument taking over his new friend group. He deals with it enough, okay?

Robin (like, the real one) looks at him curiously while Danny is talking down the other hero Robin (insert here), and the whole room notices when Robin doesn't take the opportunity to dismiss or belittle his older brother (Lmao because its danny). Damian cannot place his unease about Drake (again, Danny, who is not hiding his identity beyond a mask), and simply decides that this isn't worth the effort.

The party moves on but now instead of everyone calling themselves Robin, Danny is distinctly being called Red. It confuses him a bit, he didn't even know Red Robin was going to be at this party (he hasn't met the guy and doesn't know the lore), but he rolls with it because he's made fast friends with Robin (Bart), Robin (Cassie) and Robin (JON). The kid was full little bro energy and it made Danny laugh, he was so surprised when the real Robin joined them and fell into easy conversation with Robin (Jon).

Danny is playing games with a few others when someone goes to grab a broom to clean up- Turns out Red Robin and his boyfriend Kon had been making out in the closet for most of the party- and the whole room looks at Danny like he's tried to trick them. Tim is at first uneasy that so many people mistook him, but once he's in front of his dupe, puzzle pieces start to move around in his head.

"And who are you again, Robin?" Tim asks carefully, though he suspects he has his answer.

"Uh, Phantom, but you know, a lot of people were calling me Red tonight and I didn't get why until just now." Danny laughs nervously.

"Yeah I bet- Find me monday and we can see about a geneology test."

"That leaves us the whole weekend, to do what exactly? Fuck with people by pulling a parent trap style swap?"

"Nature vs. nuture and all but I don't know how you could be anything but my brother with a question like that." Tim grins and they get to scheming.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #tim drake #danny and tim are twins au #robin party au #dear god someone please write this fic for me #its been rattling around in my brain for ages

[stvolanis]

Can you do a dom reader x sub farleigh fan fic? 🙇‍♀️. I don't really have a backstory for it fleshed out. I was kind of thinking maybe after the karaoke scene the reader confronts him for being bitchy to oliver in front of everyone. (w/ spanking, overstim, possibly mommy kink)

Omg I love this!

Vixen.

(One shot)

PAIRINGS: Sub!Brat!Farleigh Start X Dom!Reader

WARNINGS: I’m aware that the karaoke scene doesn’t happen at his bday party but i put them together anyway!! foul language, pet names, needy!Farleigh, established relationship, mentions of drugs and alcohol

NSFW WARNINGS: mean!Reader, slight humiliation, spanking, overstimulation, mommy kink, brat taming, degradation, praise, dacryphilia, restraint (our boy is tied up), oral (m receiving), cream pies, fluff at the end

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Ever since Oliver came to live at Saltburn, Farleigh has seemed to make it his personal mission to belittle, taunt, shit talk and ruin Oliver.

You didn’t know what it was, why he was behaving this way, or even what was so wrong with Oliver, because he was nothing but sweet to you.

Always smiling and throwing out random little awkward jokes, making people laugh. He was a little bit quiet, and shy. An awkward scholarship boy, as Farleigh put it. How kind of him.

Tonight’s party was in celebration of Saltburns newest arrival, and apparently Felix’s’ jewel, Oliver. It was his birthday and the crowds of people were here, even though they had the least bit a clue as to who exactly they were even there for.

When the party was over, few people stayed around for a more toned down get together. It was just the family, you, and a few friends lying about having a good time chatting, drinking, and of course, karaoke.

Everyone was taking turns, picking their favorite songs to sing aloud for the group of peoples entertainment. You thought nothing of it when Farleigh told you he wanted to pick a song, yet your mood soured as the song began to play.

It was ‘Rent’ by Pet Shop boys.

You watched as Farleigh tossed the remote to Oliver, exclaiming how it was ‘his song’. Your jaw clenched. “Farleigh, that’s enough.” You said sternly as you peered up at the taller man. He scoffed. “Oh cmon, it’s just a little fun.” He replied with a chuckle.

You clicked your tongue. “No, Farleigh, turn it off! Now!” You yelled at him. The curly haired boy grew frustrated, and embarrassed as he felt the room of people stop and stare at the scene you caused, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking overreacting, it’s not that big of a deal!” He yelled back as he flared his arms out. Something in you snapped. After months of seeing him torment Oliver, you’d finally had enough. This was the icing on the cake.

“Dammit, Farleigh! I’ve fucking had it with you! Since Oliver’s been here you’ve been a raging cunt and without even an explanation as to why, and I’m done putting up with it!” You screamed out at him as you roughly grabbed him by his arm, dragging him towards the door.

His mouth was hung agape as you drug him out of the room, eyes following the both of you as you made your grand, oh so dramatic exit. He felt utterly humiliated at the way you talked to him in front of everyone, yet he couldn’t ignore the way his cock stirred in his slacks.

You threw him into your shared bedroom and locked the door shut. “Take off your pants and bend over.” You told him. He gulped, your tone of voice sounding too serious not to listen as he stripped himself of his slacks and boxers, bending over the bed.

You tied your hair up with a rubber band around your wrist and watched as Farleigh gripped the sheets beneath him, bracing himself for whatever was to come next. He jolted forward with a gasp as he felt your palm meet the flesh of his ass harshly.

Once, twice, then suddenly he lost count. By the time you were done, his ass felt raw and your hand print was red and visible. He had tears running down his cheek, yet his cock was oh so painfully hard against his lower stomach. He ached to be touched in any way you’d allow.

“Been such a fuckin’ brat since Ollie came. If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just said that, honey.” You chuckled out as you turned him over onto his back, instructing him to scoot further up the bed. “M’sorry, mommy, please—“ he begged, not even knowing what for.

“Shut your whore mouth, Farleigh.” You scolded as you perched yourself on his lower stomach, your clothed cunt sitting taut on his hard cock, making him let out a needy whimper. You leaned over to your night stand, digging through a drawer before pulling out a pair of pink rope.

You gripped Farleighs wrists with one of your hands and held them up to the head board, securely tying them. “Been such a bad boy, needa fix that for you.” You breathed against his lips. He leaned up, desperately trying to kiss you, but you pushed his head back down onto the pillow.

“Only good boys get kisses.” You whimpered against his ear as your body trailed down till your face was eye level with his cock and your back was arched in the air, displaying your ass that you knew Farleigh wanted to taint.

You took his tip into your mouth, sucking teasingly before smearing the pre-cum around with your thumb. His hips wiggled and his eyes were blown out with lust as he stared down at you through hooded eyes, watching as you began to take all of him in your mouth.

You gagged and gurgled around him, taking him so deep, his cock hitting the back of your throat. His moans filled your ears, and his hands clamped around his restrains, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you used one of your hands to play with his heavy balls.

“Mommy! Oh god—so good, so fuckin good.” He whimpered out as drool poured at the corner of his mouth, his mouth hung agape for too long. You released him from your mouth with a pop, using your other free hand to fist his cock tightly at a fast pace. “Yeah? Like mommy’s mouth oh your pretty cock?” You giggled out as your mouth trailed down to his balls.

You suckled one into your mouth, and Farleigh came with a loud moan, his head thrown back and his back arching off of the bed. The scene before you was straight out of a porno, and he looked so helpless and pretty when his cum spurted everywhere.

All over your face, on the bed sheets and his stomach. “Messy, messy boy, Farleigh.” You said as you shook your head. He was breathless, no words able to form as he watched you strip yourself of those god ridden clothes he wanted to rip off of you.

You glided your pussy along his still rock hard cock, letting your juices spread. You bit your lip at the stimulation on your sensitive bud. “Need you. Need your pussy, mommy, please? I’ll be a good boy, I swear—“ he babbled on, his words nearly slurring together to form what you presumed were sentences.

You laughed at the man who lied underneath you, a whimpering, needy mess. So desperate for you. So ready and willing to take anything you’ll give him. “I know, handsome, I know.” You shushed him as you finally planted a soft kiss to his trembling lips.

You lined him to your entrance, not giving him a chance to think as you slammed yourself down onto him. His cock kissed your cervix, and it felt like he was in your womb. “Such a big cock, all for me? My big boy.” You groaned out as you moved your hips in a circular motion on his cock, rubbing against your walls blissfully.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he nodded, his brain pussy drunk on you. “Mhm, yes, yes-“ he continued on. You bit your lip, holding back your moans as you watched him unravel beneath you.

But god, did his cock feel like heaven inside of you. You felt so unbelievably full, and all you could focus on was chasing your high—but Farleigh seemed to already be two seconds away from cunning again. You could feel it in the way his cock throbbed inside of you, and his balls tightened.

“Mommy, m’gonna cum, gonna cum inside of you. Gonna fill you, mommy.” He whimpered brainlessly as his hips slammed up into you as you slammed down onto him, the both of you forming a rhythmic pace. “Cmon, slut, fill me with your cum. Now.” You groaned out as you leaned down to capture his lips with yours.

He moaned into your mouth, tongues swirling together as his cum shot into you, leaking a little bit as you sat on his cock, making sure he got all of it in you. You sucked his lip into your mouth, releasing it with a little nibble and a cunning smile.

“Good boy, Farleigh. Mommy’s good boy.” You cooed at him. He lazily smiled up at you. “Good boy, m’a good boy..” he mumbled on. His eyes widened as you continued to fuck yourself onto him.

His cock was so, so sensitive. The way your walls squeezed around him, and your cervix kissing his aching tip each time he entered you was too much for him. Your pussy was milking him, and all he could sit there and do was take it. But seeing you bouncing up and down on top of him, tits bouncing with you, made it worth it.

To him, you looked utterly enchanting. The way you finally let your moans run lose, your hair coming undone from your ponytail. Your skin was sweaty and your face was red. He wanted to touch you so badly. He wanted to hold your waist and rut himself into you, even thought his cock was overused.

But now, you were using him for your pleasure. “So fucking good f’me, Farleigh. Makin’ me feel so good.” You moaned out as you threw your head back. Your praise of him making you feel good circled around in his mind, and that was all he wanted. Your approval. Knowing he was the only one who got to make you feel like this. And knowing only person who could see you like this was him—had him cumming for a third time inside of you.

Each time you slammed down onto him, your clit was met with his cute happy trail, and that was enough to send you into overdrive as you squirted all over the boy under you. Your juices made a mess of him, but you didn’t care. You bounced up and down on him a few more times, riding out your orgasm.

As you slowly came down from your high, you admired the way Farleigh looked. Still so, so beautiful. The handsomest boy you’d ever seen. Even when he was a brat, he still took care of you and loved you dearly. Your darling boy.

“Let’s take a bath, hm?” You suggested as you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. He nodded, and you untied the restraints. His hands immediately slithered around your waist, pulling you to lay down onto his chest. “Was I too rough, honey?” You asked as you peered up at him.

He shook his head. “No, you were perfect.” He whispered.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[glittering-moonlillie]

My Beloved (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Word Count: 2740

Warnings: None

Summary: Not knowing how to express his feelings any other way, Damian resorts to calling you pet names in his mother's tongue in order to air out his pent up affection.

“Habibti, can you hand me the yellow frosting?” Damian was in deep trouble - absolutely terrible, hideous trouble. 

“Of course!” You reached over to your left and handed him the buttercream, the arabic pet name flying over your head. 

In his language, Habibti was a sign of endearment given to your lover, usually meaning something along the lines of My Love or Darling - but to you, he was utterly convinced that you believed it was a form of belittlement similar to Idiot.

Of course, Damian was too afraid to correct you and he was not sure if you would believe him if he tried. He would rather keep it a sweet secret to himself, even if his fragile heart was practically leaping its way out of his rib cage to expose itself to you. 

“You know, if you want to call me something mean at least make it so I can understand you.” You laughed, a noise that would certainly haunt him late at night when he was alone and longed for your presence. 

“But it’s much more fun seeing you like this.” You scruched your nose, your forehead creasing with the movement. Your lips were parted but no words came out. It was an adorable look he had grown to love despite how dorky you appeared. 

You retaliated with a poorly placed handful of orange frosting along his cheek, your lips twisting into a pout that only served to make the fantasies of kissing you worsen. 

Orange was an obnoxiously disgusting color but he would bathe in a lazarus pit full of orange frosting if you wished it. 

He ran his thumb along his cheek and licked away whatever frosting was there. Alfred’s special buttercream frosting really was to die for. Damian enjoyed the way your eyes slightly widened, relishing in the fact that it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else. He liked to think that the scarlet decorating your face was because of him being undoubtedly sexy, and not the fact that it was because it was a hot summer’s day. 

“You’re staring, ya amar.” He smirked. “And I believe that cookie has way too much frosting, it looks like Picaso threw up all over it.”

Ya Amar had to be Damian’s second favorite pet name for you, translating to my moon. He often recalled the way his mother praised the moon for its beauty, treating it similar to a guiding life force. More than anything, Damian wanted to be the sun that illuminated your countenance - to be the man who kept you steady and loved you even if you just saw yourself as a clumpy rock. The name suited you perfectly. You were his beautiful, crated moon with star imbued eyes and a body that reflected the power of an inescapable black hole. 

“Hey, are those cookies almost finished? B wants them set out within the hour-” Tim walked in, his under eye bags accentuated further with the distasteful dark blue sweater he threw on. 

His brother paused, rolling his eyes at the state of the dining table. Damian hoped that the kitchen disaster was enough of a distraction for him not to notice the lovey-dovey eyes he assuredly was giving his best friend. 

“We’ll clean it up, Tim. Sorry about that.” You replied quickly. “But most of the cookies are done, Damian still has a few to finish though.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning wildly like the Cheshire cat. 

“Just don’t get distracted flirting with each other, I don’t want to deal with an irritated Bruce.”

“Shut up, Timothy. At least we aren’t aggressively making out like how you and Conner were at the last gala.” Damian shot back. 

Tim frowned. “I’m too tired to deal with this. Try not to explode anything, okay?”

Damian waved off his brother and went back to decorating one of the cookies for the large event at Wayne Manor tonight. It was a charity event to raise awareness of the increase in homeless population on the streets of Gotham, and alongside the event, his family was hosting a soup kitchen for any struggling person on the streets. Along with a hearty, full course meal, they would be served one of the cookies being decorated by the two of you. 

Although Damian’s father normally did not allow any friend’s to charity events, you were always an exception due to the fact that if you weren’t there, Damian would blow a gasket and murder someone if he was in a suit for too long. Your presence beside Damian was often looked over when you were both younger, but now that a few years had gone by plenty of journalists speculated the possibility of “a secret blooming relationship.” 

The common theory circulating around Gotham was the idea that his father was disapproving of them being together since you were a “commoner,” therefore excusing the lack of concrete evidence of the relationship existing. Damian had found the notion completely ridiculous; even if his father disapproved of you in that context, that would not stop him from loving you the way he always dreamed, consequences be damned. 

You treated the whole situation with carefree ease, giggling at the awful pictures and wack job theories concocted by 40 year old men looking to sell half-baked news. On one hand, Damian was pleased that the unwanted attention did not bother you, but deep down he also felt a pang of poison seep its way into his bloodstream. Was the idea of being his lover that much of a joke? 

The clicking of a phone keyboard brought him back to reality. Damian peered over your shoulder and saw Safari pulled up.

 “What ever are you doing, habibti?” 

“I’m trying to decipher what you are calling me.” You said. “Can you repeat that last word for me, please?”

The youngest Wayne felt every single pour in his body drip in sweat, excess saliva pooling in his mouth. Perhaps if his blood was functioning properly, then he would have found a better response other than a simple no. 

It was very rare for Damian to be properly caught off guard. He should have thought that you would have looked up the words he was repeating, should have come up with a game plan instead of looking like a strangled goose. 

His first instinct was to snatch the phone away and cut it up with the plastic, buttercream decorated knife. Damian could pretend to be possessed by a ghost and buy you a better phone with specially installed programs that inhibited your ability to look up any Arabic term. Yes, that was a wonderful idea-

“How are there zero search results?!!” You exclaimed, turning to him. “Did you make up a language or something? Why are there absolutely zero results??”

Damian looked at your phone again. You certainly took some liberties with the spelling of the pet name, letting him relax into his seat. It was nowhere close to how the word was spelled. He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Why are there two y’s in the word?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Well maybe if you told me the other 20 languages you spoke I’d get somewhere.”

For the next 15 minutes, you angrily punched in 17 different ways to spell Habibti, all massively incorrect and leading to nowhere. You eventually threw your phone on the ground with a huff while he cackled. 

“This is so unfair. I demand restitution for the amount of time I have lost thanks to you.” Damian hummed.

“I can’t give you back those missing minutes, but I can pay you back with your favorite meal and my full attention tonight.” 

You pretended to ponder over the offer, but Damian knew you could not say no to Alfred’s cooking. “Okay, fine. But only because I love Alfred’s food and nothing else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon peered over the horizon, the stars twinkling like falling fairy dust on a navy blue canvas. Hundreds of Gotham’s richest filled Wayne Manor, most of which were dressed with gaudy colors and bedazzlements, with feathers and overpriced jewels. 

Damian was dressed in a dark green suit, one that Alfred had picked a little while ago. He was fully aware of the lustful stares he was given by the woman (and some of the men) there but he could care less. There was only one person he cared about impressing and that said person was “discreetly” stuffing themselves with a plate full of food in the corner. 

As an attendant of the Gala, you were in a stunning dress that fit every single curve of your body marvelously, all courtesy to Stephanie who helped you pick out the dress to begin with. Heat rose to his cheeks and he began fumbling with his tie. 

Damian was not the only one there to notice your beauty either. As you were trying to polish off your plate of food, several men had made attempts to woo you onto the dancefloor. Thankfully you declined all of their advances - Damian was not sure what he would have felt if you did. If it weren’t for the hundreds of other people present, he would have unquestionably sliced off the suitors hands if they tried to touch you again. 

“Ya Helo, you look…” His throat clogged as you stared up at him. “You look stunning…”

Damian was convinced that your smile was the brightest thing in the universe; he was also sure that it could cure any bout of irritation or sadness possible. 

“About time you showed up! Are you done flirting with the 70 year old women yet or does your dad want you back in there?” You poked his chest, the touch feeling like an electrical transfer. 

“You know that I would never flirt with those women back there, Habibti. My dad just wanted me to manipulate them into giving more of their money to charity.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he clasped it and brought it closer to his heartbeat. Your hands were a pebble compared to his own and yet they still managed to fit perfectly together like Incan architecture.

“I-I…” You looked away with a crooked smile. “I know that, obviously. I just wanted to tease you a bit!”

When you turned towards him once more, he noticed the way your eyes trailed down his visage, strawberry lips parting ever so slightly. Your laughter died in your throat. The scene felt like the ridiculous romcoms he analyzed from time to time while you were over. All he had to do was lean in a little bit closer and his dreams would be fulfilled-

The tight grip of someone’s hand seized his arm, effectively pulling him away from his darling. The movement caught Damian off guard (the second time that day). There was only a select handful of people who were able to sneak up on him like that…

“Mother.” Damian seethed, turning to gaze upon the woman with a cold glare. “What are you doing here?”

Fitted for the occasion in a sleek black dress, Talia crossed her arms and matched her son’s glare. “Is a mother not allowed to visit her son, especially when he has not messaged her in months?”

Damian stood in front of you, his hands slightly raised in case Talia decided to activate her mother bear mode. Talia’s eyes furrowed, her lip pursing. 

“How about you and your little friend follow me upstairs. You can tell me all about how you two met.” She suggested but her voice made it sound more like a threat. 

Damian hated how your smile disappeared and was replaced with an apprehensive grimace. He reached for your hand and squeezed. 

“Dami…” 

“It’ll be alright habib albi…” He whispered, squeezing your hand once again. As the three of them climbed up the stairs, the soft tune of the violin faded into nothing, not even background noise. 

“Mother, I find this hardly necessary. Could you have interfered in my life some other day?” Damian groaned. 

“Of course not, my son.” Talia shut the door of the room they entered. “If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to meet the girl who stole my beloved’s heart.”

Damian’s heart dropped. “I- what?”

“Y-you must be mistaken. Damian and I…Damian doesn’t like me like that!” You stuttered out with nervous laughter. 

Talia raised a single eyebrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe considering what I heard him call you.”

Fuck. Damian mentally slapped himself. He should have known that his mother would have heard him call you that. The pet name was just so natural to him, slipping off his tongue like sweet honey, he forgot that his mother would have been able to understand. 

You tilted your head towards Damian then back to Talia, reflexively playing with your hair. “I…maybe you misheard? He calls me these made up names, they really have no meaning.”

“Wait, so he has not told you what they meant?”

“No, he refused to tell me and when I looked it up, there were no search results.” You said. 

“Mother, please-” 

Talia raised her hand to silence him. “I can’t believe you have been lying to her, Damian! I have raised you better than that. She deserves to know that you are calling her Love of my heart and Darling in Arabic!”

You snapped your head towards Damian, who was internally screaming a colorful variety of cuss words towards his mother. He expected you to look horrified and slap him away, to run for the hills and never speak to him again. 

Instead you had this beautiful awestruck look in your galaxy-filled eyes. Your face was a deep crimson.

“Dami…” You hesitated. “Is this true?” 

The hopeful tone in your voice was as intoxicating as a few shots of bourbon.  

Damian imagined that the day he confessed to you would be atop a starry hill with perfectly blooming jasmines and evening primroses. He would pull you into his arms and whisper his love for you when the moon was at its peak, ending it with a kiss if you let him. It would have been perfect, if fate allowed it to be.

However, there were no starry hilltops or sweetly smelling fragrances - no moon that would peer over them and give its blessing. But you were there with him, an arm's reach away. As long as you were there, wasn't that all that mattered?

Damian glared at his mother, who was in the background with a smug smile, pretending to not overhear the conversation. When she didn’t get the message, he cleared his throat as loud as he could. 

“Fine. I suppose I’ll leave you to it - but I expect you to message me afterward since I did the hard work for you.” Talia sauntered her way out of the room, leaving you and Damian alone.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dami…” You glanced up at him with a shy smile. “Were you really secretly giving me pet names in Arabic?”

Reaching for your hands, Damian pulled you close to create a few inch gap. “Yeah…I wanted a way to show you how much I…how much I loved you without you figuring out.”

You giggled, the vibrations of it causing his heart to flutter. “You’re a dork, you know that? I would have reciprocated your feelings no matter what, but it would have been nice if you had told me sooner.” 

Your finger trailed down his neck to his collarbone, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake. “I demand more restitution for the time lost.”

Damian hummed, pretending to think of the perfect solution despite him already having one. You edged closer to him. 

“How about,” he began, “I kiss you until your lips are as blue as this night sky?”

But before you could respond, Damian already brought his lips to yours.  The dreams and fantasies he had did not live up to the actual softness of your lips - the subtle taste of raspberries filling his senses. 

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Shouldn’t we go back to the Gala?”

Damian looked back at the door, contemplating how mad his father would be if he ditched the rest of the party. It was waning closer to midnight anyway and he could just say you were tired. 

He turned back to you, his smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’ll be fine. Besides, I would rather be with you than flirt with 70 year old women.”

Your attempted giggle was covered with the rougher press of his lips against yours, causing you to fall backwards onto the guest bed. After years of calling you Habibti, now he could finally say it without you thinking it was an insult.

Damian is a simp with huge dimples. Fight me.

#Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Al Ghul #Damian Al Ghul x Reader #Damian Wayne x Y/n #Romance #Damian has dimples!! #DC #Batfam #Fluff #Damian speaking Arabic #Arabic pet names #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Alfred Pennyworth #Tim Drake makes an appearance out of his tomb #Comics

[topgun-imagines]

You’re Not Alone

Requested: yes

Summary: After Ice makes a comment that, unbeknownst to him, hurts you, he needs to make sure that you know just how sorry he is. 

Word count: 1.3k 

Warnings: Sexism. Crying. Arguing. Mentions of drinking. 

Pairings: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

“The plaque for the alternates is down in the lady's room.” It was Ice’s quip that made you stop. You knew that it was addressed at Maverick but it still hurt all the same. Goose laughed loudly. You could feel the eyes on you as you sucked in a sharp breath and headed out of the classroom.

You had known Ice for years. The two of you first met at the academy, becoming instant friends with both him and Slider. He had even been the one to give you your call sign; Snow White because of your jet-black hair. It was also fitting for the way you were similar to Ice in your frostiness. Eventually, the pair of you got together. In a few weeks, it would be your fifth anniversary.

His comment shouldn't have affected you like it did. You knew that it was aimed at Maverick but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Iceman was the person that knew more than anyone how hard you had to work to get where you were. It was safe to say that female pilots were a rarity in the Navy. The men around you were constantly looking down on you, belittling you just because you were a woman. You knew that Ice wasn’t one of those people. Both him and Slider were constantly telling you how much you deserved to be where you were today, no matter how often you told them they didn’t need to. To hear Ice say that made you rethink the things that he had told you over the past six years. Maybe that’s what he actually thought. That you were below him and the other pilots, just because you were a woman.

You headed into the changing rooms before anyone else got there. Grabbing your civilian clothes, you headed into one of the bathroom stalls and began changing out of your uniform. You could hear some of the others make their way into the room, laughing loudly. The second you were finished you folded your uniform carefully and unlocked the stall.

Ice, Slider, Hollywood, Wolfman, Maverick, and Goose were all standing in front of their lockers. They were all discussing plans to go to the bar tonight. Your locker was next to Ice’s. Silently, you placed your uniform in the small locker. Popping a piece of gum in your mouth, you ignored Ice when he tried to talk to you. Honestly, you weren’t in the mood to deal with him right now. Slamming your locker, you left the room, leaving everyone staring after you confused.

The bar was packed. People were mingling loudly, chatting and laughing as they sipped on their drinks. You leaned against the bar, waiting for your drink to come. Many of your classmates surrounded you. Hollywood and Wolfman were sitting beside you, lost in their own little world. A soft hand landed on your shoulder. After six years you didn’t need to think too hard about who it was.

Ice wound his arm around your waist. You turned away slightly when he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. His eyebrows furrowed. What was with you today? “You okay?” He questioned, downing the shot that was placed in front of him. You rolled your eyes. God, this man could be oblivious sometimes. When you didn’t respond Ice craned his neck to meet your eyes. “Snow? What’s wrong?” Regardless of the concern dripping from his words, you didn’t want anything to do with him right now.

“I can’t do this right now, Ice,” Sighing, you set your now empty glass on the bar top and moved toward the exit. You could hear Ice groan behind you. Not caring, you continued towards the exit and stepped out of the bar. The fresh air was glorious. You sucked in a deep breath, shutting your eyes for a minute. The door shut behind you. “Please, Tom.” With a sigh, you turned to face him.

His eyes were on you, watching with concern as he moved toward you. “What’s going on?” When all you offered in response was a mumbled ‘nothing’ Ice scoffed. “Bullshit. You’re barely even looking at me.” Your eyes were focused on the gravel in front of his shoes. He watched you carefully as you chose your words.

You sighed and brought your eyes up to meet his. “Why would you say that?” Ice’s brow furrowed in confusion. What the hell were you talking about?  “Why would you joke about being a woman pilot?” His mind instantly flashed to the comment he had made earlier that day. Of course. How could he have been so stupid? The pilot's heart dropped when he saw the way you tried to blink away the tears that gathered on your lashes.

He wished that he could run to you and wipe your tears away; hold you until he knew you were okay. But, he knew that that was probably the last thing you wanted right now. He had to choose his words very carefully. “I wasn’t thinking,” You scoffed. “And I know that that is no excuse for what I said but I promise you, I would never make fun of you, or mock you. Ever,” Ice took a cautious step towards you. “I know how hard you had to work to get where you are and that is nothing to joke about,” He was now standing only a foot away from you. “I am so, so sorry, baby.” When you sniffled quietly Ice thought the worst: he was about to lose you after nearly five years.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, your arms had wound their way around his waist with your face buried in his chest. He stumbled back slightly from the force of your hug. You were crying softly into his chest. His lips settled on the crown of your head. “I’m so sorry,” The words were mumbled into your hair but you could hear them nonetheless. You shook your head, face still nuzzled in Ice’s chest.

“Thank you,” You whispered, pulling your head back to look at him. Tom had tears of his own gathering on his bottom lash. Biting his lip, he tried to blink them away. He didn’t think you should be thanking him for anything.  “Thank you for believing in me,” There was a small smile resting on your lips, Tom’s eventually mimicking your own. “I love you, Tom.” You rested your head against his shoulder, arms still wrapped tightly around his waist.

His hand began rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I love you too, baby. You’re never gonna be alone as long as I'm here,” He had no idea how much it meant to hear him say that. The pair of you stood in silence, simply enjoying each other presence. Tom had made it clear that he understood his mistake, and he would be damned if he ever made it again. You knew how much he regretted what he said. You were glad to know that no matter what happened, you would always have Ice in your corner. As if he could hear your thoughts, Ice leaned down slightly and pressed a chaste kiss to your temple. “You deserve so much baby. I hope one day I can give that to you.” Your heart melted at his words.

With a giddy smile, you moved to hide your face in Ice’s neck, eyes catching on the wet tear stain you left on his sunny whites. “Oops.” You giggled quietly. Tom’s found where you were looking, causing him to let out a soft chuckle as well. When you moved to apologize Ice cut you off with a soft shake of his head. The shirt could be washed. What Ice really cared about was the fact that you were okay and that you knew just how much he loved you. And he didn’t intend to stop telling you for a very long time.

a/n: Thank you for reading! requests are open.

#tom kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky fic #ice #iceman #iceman top gun #iceman fanfic #iceman fic #iceman x reader #iceman x female reader #val kilmer #val #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun 86 #TGOG #Tom kazansky x female reader #tom iceman kazansky fanfic #top gun x female reader #top gun fanfiction #ice x reader #top gun x reader #top gun fluff

[wackapedia]

Drunk Words Are Sober Thoughts

Sihtric Kjartansson x reader

Plot: Good news: You celebrate your recent victory by challenging strangers to a drinking contest. Bad news, you turn into a whiny baby when drunk and your friends do not want to deal with it at all Wc: 793 words Warnings: drinking and being drunk, mention of fights in the battlefield, mild mention of dying. Fluff tho

You sway in your seat as you down the rest of your ale and slam your mug against the wooden table. Your opponent, still quite sober, laughs at your poor attempt of challenging him in a drinking contest. You try to focus your sight, but it appears that there are now seven of them? "One more... I can take one more..." You were completely unintelligible at this point when you asked for another round. The observing crowd laughs. You decide to laugh along, not entirely sure what's funny. All of a sudden, their laughter halts. Someone had just walked into the alehouse.

You were sure something was still funny despite everyone else's silence as you giggled and turned to the man standing next to you; the amber hilt of his sword strapped on his back was unmistakable despite your drunken state. Your friend and lord pay off your tab and literally haul you out of your seat, carrying you back to camp.

"You celebrate better than a Dane…," he comments.

"Hmm? How do we know that?" You furrow your brows, genuinely wondering. You hiccup before continuing, "Do we know any Danes?"

Uthred sighs and hauls you higher over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The walk back to camp was short; you'd sobered up just a little to spot Osferth tending to a bowl of soup, which you hoped was for you.

You must've fallen asleep for a while because you awakened to the interior of your tent, with Uthred tapping your cheek and balancing a bowl of broth on your neck.

"Here. Feed yourself." He holds it steady and makes your hand hold a spoon.

"Ah, you sound like my father!" You pout, dropping the spoon back into the bowl.

Uthred sighs, quitting the task at hand. He calls for Finan, who happily takes over.

"This is why you shouldn't get drunk, you turn into a baby!" Finan takes a spoonful of broth, lifting it to your lips.

You keep your lips tightly shut as you pull the furs up to your face, hiding from everyone's favorite Irishman.

"And you're acting like a mother hen!" You mumble from under the covers.

He laughs with his entire chest. "Mother hen' isn't a new one, he gets that a lot.

"Come on, this will help you with tomorrow's hangover. We have to get back on the road." He chides, further proving the Mother Hen allegations. You remain under the furs, beginning to feel sleepy again. Finan calls out to you one more time, almost begging you to take just a few spoons, bargaining and negotiating like it was a battlefield. Somehow it was, with you being so difficult.

"I want Sihtric..." You slur under the sheets, walking between sleep and wakefulness. Finan doesn't respond.

"Sihtric is always so kind and gentle with me, even when I'm not drunk." You were talking to yourself at this point, slowly popping your head out of the covers, eyes closed. "He's always looking out for me without making me feel belittled. We work so well, especially on the battlefield." You sigh, thinking back to that morning's fight.

You were working through the open field after the breach at the shield wall. Standing back to back, you were absolutely lethal against your enemies, with bodies dropping quickly around the both of you. It felt comfortable to have him near you during fights. If you were to fall in battle, he would be the last thing you could see before passing. And somehow that, in itself, was your heaven, Valhalla, and paradise.

You were mumbling all of these thoughts out loud, unaware that the man himself was sitting next to you, holding the bowl of broth, red-faced and flustered. It also didn't help that three heads stacked through the tent entrance to listen in on your whole spiel about Sihtric.

".... He's easy on the eyes too. So please get Sihtric for me, Finan, before I-" You almost choked on your own tongue when you turned your head to see Sihtric. The bowl of broth must be boiling in his hands now at the heat of embarrassment and excitement coursing through his veins. The heads of Uthred, Finan, and Osferth by the tent entrance snicker to themselves as they watch the scene play out.

"Please say that again when you're sober, and then I will kiss you if you let me." Sihtric somehow recovers from his state, and finds the courage to express his feelings.

Immediately, you sat up and grabbed the bowl, slurping all of its contents messily, praying that it truly helped with hangovers so that you and Sihtric could have this conversation sober first thing tomorrow.

And that he'll make good on his promise to kiss you.

 A/N: apparently i write for TLK now too lol

#the last kingdom #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric of dunholm #finan #osferth #uthred of bebbanburg #uhtred ragnarsson #the last kingdom x reader #arnas fedaravicius #x reader

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 2)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.4k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys]

last part - masterlist - next part

Quali came to an end once again, the feeling slightly tamer than the first time as Lance pulled back into his side of the garage, Nico not far behind.

He was slightly disappointed he qualified p10 but it'll be fine as long as he can actually finish this race (and hopefully get points for the team this time.)

He heard Nico talking to his engineer on the other side of the garage and decided to go over, not having much to do on his side.

"Seriously, the wheels locked up like twice. You were watching and I know you noticed so the fact that you're ignoring the issues is bullshit-"

Maybe not the best time to stand around.

He decided instead of hanging around with Nico he'd just walk around the paddock, his race suit hanging by his hips as he walked by the other teams garages, seeing how busy everyone else on the paddock was. He could tell some people were quick to go home but he wasn't ever in a rush to get back to his hotel room, it was usually boring anyway.

"Ah, Lancito, I was just looking for you" There it is. The voice Lance looks forward to hearing as soon as the race week starts, and most likely the reason he decides to stay back as late as he does

"Nando, Hi" He flashed a smile at the long haired driver, stoping in his tracks so they could walk together

"Nando?" The shorter man echoed, catching up to Lance as they both continued walking, steps in sync as they made their way around the paddock

"Well, I figured it was only fair for me to give you a name since you gave me one" Lance nodded as he spoke, afraid the older man had a problem with it, it was quite childish, he wasn't sure why he even called him that, Fernando worked just fine, it was a silly nickname

"I like it, Sounds good coming from you." Fernando smiled up at Lance, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him down to his level "Guess we are friends now, eh? Coworkers do not usually have special names for eachother"

Lance nodded again, he supposed Nando was right. He turned to look at him as he continued to speak, rambling about many things but all Lance could think about was how good he looked. He'd never really examined the Spaniard like he was doing now, sunglasses propped up on his head, holding his hair out of his face, it seemed like he had just shaved that morning, the shadow of his facial hair barely visible, his lips curved slightly upwards as he talked, his hair curling in every direction but somehow he made the messy look seem intentional

"What hotel do they have you staying at, Lancito?" Was the first thing Lance really heard after spending god knows how long just staring at Fernando. How embarrassing.

"Uhm- Mövenpick? I think, Otmar has my keycard somewhere." Lance hummed, having lost the keycard to the hotel in Bahrain Otmar had decided it was best to put Nico and Lance in the same room and "look after" Lances keycard until they headed back.

"Ah, I see. I didn't realize they'd put drivers in different hotels."

"If you miss my company so much you're welcome to come along, you know I get special priviliges because of my dad" Lance joked, at this point he was so used to people belittling him to just being his fathers son that he had started to do it as well

"Ah, don't say that Lancito" Fernando almost scolded him, moving his hand to tap the back of his head "You forget I'm world champion, I could buy another hotel ticket if I wanted to."

Lance laughed, nodding in agreement, there wasn't anything stopping Fernando from doing anything really, after he left the paddock he could go wherever, do whatever, it's not like he signed away his soul to F1 so moving hotels wouldn't be a big deal "I know, I know, but if you ever want free stuff, Mr. World Champion, you know who to ask" Lance hummed, taking his turn of having his arm around Fernandos shoulder "These are the perks of being friends with a nepotism baby"

"I'll take your word for it then" Fernando laughed, accepting the change of positions, it wasn't very comfortable reaching up to drape an arm around Lances shoulder anyways.

A comfortable silence fell over them, neither feeling the need to add anything more, it was odd, how well they had clicked. They got along better together than either of them did with their teammates but no one was complaining. Lance liked having someone to go to outside of the Racing Point garage and Fernando liked having someone he felt like this towards, whatever "this" was. They were snapped back to reality when Otmar finally found Lance

"God kid, I was looking for you. Nico's about to head back so I figured now was a good time to give you the key" He pulled out a think black card and handed it to Lance "Don't lose it this time, alright?" He asked, not letting to just yet.

"Alright, I'll attach it to my arm, okay?" Lance joked, turning back to Fernando "Think about it, really, if your hotel gets boring you're more than welcome at mine." He said before making his way out of the paddock, catching up to Nico so they could leave together

Odd was all Otmar thought, he didn't realize his driver had gotten so close to Fernando, he'd thought maybe it was just press, or maybe some plan the Spaniard had, but he had nothing to gain from staying late and just sitting next to him.

Lance tried not to be disappointed when night came and went and Fernando had decided not to come, it was silly, but a part of him was looking forward to seeing him outside of the paddock, outside of the blue and yellow.

They were so busy before the race that Lance hadn't even managed to catch a glimpse of the Spaniard let alone talk to him, before he knew it interviews were over and he was in his car, lined up in the fifth row, Nico barely behind him.

Fernando was right in saying Malaysia was going to treat him better, he had managed to make up three places and actually get points for his team in his second grand prix.

It felt great, even though it wasn't a podium like Fernando had gotten getting points waa a big deal for the rookie (driver and team).

The debrief went smoothly considering how both Nico and Lance finished the race with no major problems, as they gathered their things and the team started to leave the garage one by one Lance couldn't help but notice the blue in the corner of his eye. He turned his head and smiled when he confirmed it was in fact Fernando

"Good-" Lance started, trying to beat Fernando to congratulating eachother was proving to be difficult

"You did great, Lancito" Fernando commented, walking into the garage now that it was practically empty "Your overtakes are pretty decent for a nepotism baby, eh?"

Lance laughed, hitting Fernandos arm "Guess you did pretty good for a world champ then, huh?" It was nice, the banter they had, if anyone else joked with him jow Fernando does he was sure he'd take it the wrong way but with how Fernandos treated him since they met he had no doubt in his mind that every jab he made towards him was lighthearted.

"Any plans before Australia, Lancito?" Right, Lance had forgotten there wasn't another race for two weeks

"I'm not sure, I always end up somewhere though" He laughed, leaning on the counter behind him, using his hands to prop himself up "How about you, where are you going, Nando?"

"Me and Mark, Mark Webber, were planning on spending the break in Australia together"

Right, he forgot Fernando was close to Mark, the driver who's seat he took.

"Could you tell him I'm sorry?" Lance hesitated to speak, wondering if the Australian was mad at him for ending his career early

"He doesn't mind, trust me, if he wasn't okay with ending his career he would've signed with someone else." Fernando consoled the younger, patting his shoulder after he finished "Don't worry your pretty little head, alright?"

Lance laughed, shaking his head at the comment in efforts to ignore the pink tint covering his face "Alright, Nando."

#f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #aston martin #fernando alonso #renault #racing point #au #alternate universe #rpf #real person fiction #ff #fan fic #strollonso #lance stroll x fernando alonso #i did NOT check this for typos #i also wrote this on the bus to school #so if its bad uhm #blame the bus! #first kiss au

[bonefall]

what do you of "the man who sold the world" for fallenleaf? friend is getting me into nirvana and i cant do anything without thinking of the Beasts

Hmm... honestly? I think it fits other characters much better!

Man Who Sold The World always reads to me as like... a dangerous character, could be a demon, could be an evil parent, could be a more literal villain in some kind of story, who has unambiguously gotten its ass kicked and banished. In its defeat, it realizes that it can turn it around; by trying to convince one of their Victims to join them.

And succeeding.

(and it's why Nirvana's version is my favorite, Cobain's voice is just the right amount of hoarse that makes me feel like the Victim Character has lost a lot of sleep over it. Vulnerable and open to the offer of the Villain, possibly on the brink of desperation in their own life. It has that sort of angsty-young-adult madness that makes choosing bad decisions sooo much easier. Bowie's and Ure's versions are also fantastic, but imo they're a lot more dreamlike, like the victim is being more entranced than convinced!)

The song isn't about breaking out of that cycle. It's about "laughing and shaking his hand," returning home almost unaware of any change. But over many years, in tiny little ways that add up into even bigger ones, slowly the Victim becomes another man who sold the world.

They doesn't even realize when they died alone along their quest, just that it must have been long, long ago.

Some of that fits Fallenleaf, but it's not quite the same vibe. She killed Ashfur in revenge. She sought out Sol and took his deal for power, and tried to kill her own brother. She subjugated an entire Ancient Lake society-- and the only thing she can really blame Sol for is how it got bored of her and kicked her out of her own body.

Those were things she did. And they're things she lives with. Trickery was less a part of it than she might have wanted to believe at some point in her long, guilty life.

NATURALLY I'm inspired by Cheecat's really great animation they made with Brambleclaw and Tigerstar, and I think it fits Tigerstar to a T, but who I always think of is Hawkfrost.

Especially in BB, where RiverClan raised him to lean into his legacy. Not Clanborn, from a young age he had to work twice as hard, prove that he and his sister were "worth" keeping around, told that they were only protected by that diluted Tigerkin blood that trickles through their veins and that Tigerstar was an ideal to live up to...

Only the thinnest veneers of, "Be what he was, without his flaws" to hold him back from fully adopting everything his father ever stood for. A father he never met, who hurt his mother, who killed and traumatized countless clanmates.

And then Hawkfrost sees him. The song kicks in. "I thought you died alone, a long long time ago."

"Not me. I never lost control." It means that those "flaws," they weren't so bad. "You're face to face with the man who sold the world" and I can teach you the value of that.

He leaves that exchange feeling warm. "I laughed and shook his hand." He goes through the destruction of the forest (looking for form), the great journey (and land), and eventually finds himself in all the conflicts of TNP. No one knows at what point he stopped being the noble young warrior who stood up for Reedpaw against his tormenters, or when wanting to protect his sister became abuse and belittling.

But at some point, he died alone, long before his heart stopped beating on that stake.

He ends up in the Dark Forest with his father, preparing for the change that's coming in OotS, but not by the end of the song. At the end of the song his father has successfully dragged him down to his level, singing the same tune, trying to pretend that his dad getting him pointlessly shish-kebabed for a petty personal dispute wasn't a critical L to the chest.

#song talk #better bones au #Fennelposting #BB!Hawkfrost #BB!Tigerstar #Local Tumblr sexyman impales self on a stick and has complicated relationship to father. Even goes to hell #explored through song #More at 11

[steviewashere]

I Am Vulnerable and I Am Wanting

(also on ao3)

wc: 1,864, Steddie Tags: Post Vecna, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Post-Argument, Making Up, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Light, Steve has Shit Parents, Kind of a Character Study

(For the full list of tags, they're available on ao3. Rated T for implied/referenced drug use and implied/referenced sex. Drug use is in Eddie's backstory, just as a forewarning).

--------

Steve Harrington is a lover. That's his first trait. That's the first thing to catalogue about somebody like him. It's odd, though.

He wasn't very well liked until high school. Parents feigning interest in what he did—only caring if it somehow bettered their last name, if it got him to college, if it made him either successful or intelligent enough to enter the family business. His friends in elementary and middle school weren't the kindest and often left him out of activities. So, oftentimes, Steve was alone.

Lonely and young and tenderly emotional. However, he'd been raised to not show that. To show instead, that he could handle being left behind, being forgotten on the starting line, that he actually wanted to move on to greener pasture.

Splitting relationships always was difficult for him to grasp. To come to terms with. Which is why it was so hard to say goodbye to Carol Perkins and Tommy Hagan and the loyalty they served to Steve for several years. But it was always supposed to end, one way or another. That was practically shown to him in the stars. That he'd end up lonely all over again.

And then college didn't happen. And already, for years at this point, his parents weren't in the house to comfort him or lift him up or care for him. When they were, it was to belittle and scoff and ignore.

So, even his own parents wanted nothing to do with him. If they could distance themselves, they would find the way. And if they couldn't, they'd force him to find the solution. Getting a job. Leaving the house for hours on end—whether he drove around town in an endless loop or hooked up with a good amount of the Hawkins' ladies population or spent money as if it was never real to him—they never cared.

Despite this, despite all of this, Steve loves first. Falls hard. Finds it difficult to get angry or vengeful or upset at somebody. Lest they leave him too.

On the other hand, Eddie Munson is practically a rabid dog. Sure, he can love. Had known that at one point. Was fed and dressed and given a bed. But, when it comes down to it, there was nothing for him.

His parents were drug addicts and convicted criminals. They left him in the backseat of a car as they made deals—driving around empty streets with a "friend" in the passenger seat, laughing loud and obnoxious. Made him restless and itchy, but he didn't fall asleep until early the next day. Food was scarce, so he learned the sleight of hand trick, how to bat his doe-like eyes, be small and fast and strong when it counts—all for a crumb, for a measly meal, for something to tide him over until his parents could actually be there.

But then Wayne happened like a sudden summer storm. Wrapping him in cotton sheets and heavy coats and warm things. Gave him his own room. Made hot meals on the stove and let Eddie pick out his own mugs to add to the growing collection. Went out for fishing trips and days out in Indianapolis where the record shops were plentiful and the comic book scene was bumping.

Though, Eddie has not learned when to stop growling. A person's hand could be soft and slow and tentative as it reaches out to him, but he bites back. Makes himself bigger and scarier and meaner. Climbing on top of surfaces to drape shadows over everybody else. Big speeches about non-conforming tactics and what conformity really was. Learned to lie and steal and be secretive.

Learned how to hurt others.

Which leads to the current day. A late evening in the middle of October. The two of them in a standoff in the Harrington's living room. It had been a jovial night. Laughing back and forth. Watching stupid movies, stolen from the return bit at Family Video. Ate greasy pizza and poured each other glasses of Dr. Pepper.

But, somewhere in the conversation, words turned sharp. Cutting their skin. Opening wounds from high school, shearing hair, and plucking teeth from gums.

It doesn't matter how the argument started. Not at all. All Steve knows is that the words hurt and what Eddie was saying wasn't incorrect. In fact, it was some sort of blanket statement about how much of a douchebag Steve had been, him and his jock friends and his love for sports, something along the lines of his stupid ego and his preppy clothes and his empty head, a sentence about his lack of interesting hobbies. Something meant to hurt.

And hurt it did. Climbed all the way under Steve's abdomen, into his ribcage, squeezing between his muscles, and nestling itself against his pulsating stomach. He feels nauseous and off kilter. And Eddie is standing there, staring him down, looming. He's got wide eyes and a snarl and a scrunch to his bulbous nose. Squared shoulders and tensed legs and bent, crooked, claw-like fingers.

He's saying something. Lots of things, really. Insulting words. Harsh comments. Poking and prodding and poking and prodding. Clawing at Steve. Marking him. Flaying him.

And Steve is too tired for words. To muster a response. So he slumps into himself. Curling over his own legs, wrapping his hands in one another, letting his hair droop down and shade his eyes. Hoping that maybe resignation is what Eddie is looking for, maybe to be proven right. That's what Steve's parents always wanted. For Steve to feel small and insignificant and terribly sorry for his own existence.

He's just tired of being the people pleaser. Of loving and getting nothing in return.

Really, but maybe unrealistically, Steve thought that his relationship with Eddie was it. That this thing they have going, this wonderful and beautiful and passionate and romantic thing—stretching between May to now, covered in wet kisses and reverent caresses and sex that leaves him sore like a jog would've—that it was the big ending, a miracle ending, that he'd been searching for. For forever ago. At one point in Nancy. Then tried through every girl in town. Robin before the bathroom.

He thought that—What did he think? Why does he always get his hopes up? This never goes well. He always gives and gives and bleeds and pukes and lets himself be laid out and vulnerable. And here the other person is, taking and taking and taking—sucking the life out of him, leaving him as a rag-doll carcass on his own bed. And he always allows it. Because to be loved for even thirty minutes is enough, or it has been.

Until now. He's not ready for this to end. He's not ready for Eddie to leave. He's not ready to crawl back to meaningless hookups and traded sex for a notch in the reputation ladder.

So when Eddie says, "I'm going home, this isn't working," Steve says nothing in return. He's tired of begging for people to stay and love him. That never, never works out for him. They stay back for just a little while longer, growing despondent and miserably bored—meanwhile, Steve is still madly in love, delivering all that he can, giving what he thinks will keep them close. But it always blows up. And sex becomes just sex. Kissing is just a gateway to conversation endings. The heartbreak hurts worse the second time.

It always hurts. But if he lets Eddie leave now, then it won't be as bad, right? If this is what Eddie wants, then Steve provides. Because this is for his boyfriend's wellbeing, not his, and he still loves him regardless.

Regardless of the fact that he can feel his chest collapse. That his mouth grows moist. His eyes burning and sinking back into his skull.

It doesn't help that he sobs when Eddie begins to turn away. He's never cried like this before. When the other person leaves. He always keeps his cool. He always waits until they're well and truly gone before he breaks down. But not today. Because Steve can't be normal about the love and adoration he holds for Eddie. There's no way to be normal about somebody so significant and vibrant and lovely as Eddie Munson—not in any universe, not in any moment in the passing of time.

But the front door doesn't slam shut. In fact, Eddie's presence is still somewhere in front of him. His warmth radiating into the room all too sudden against the harsh coldness that pumps through Steve's body.

Eddie flitters for a moment before hesitantly stepping forward, coming closer and closer to the couch until his knees hit the cushion. And then, he's sitting down on the coffee table, legs bunched up and leaning against Steve's own. His hands creep from his lap and around Steve's wrists, gently prying his palms away from where they're grinding into his eye sockets.

"Baby," he whispers. Steve trembles. "Baby, honey, look at me," he pleads. And then, Eddie's drowning in molten honey-brown eyes. They're shining and silently begging and all too terribly sad. "I was going home to cool off. I'm not—Leaving you isn't an option to me, okay?"

And it feels odd, for a moment, that Steve's vulnerability is met. That it's realized and acknowledged and carefully responded to. But it makes sense, with Eddie, that he'd do something like this. Because he's the first to notice when something makes Steve moan loud in bed—he's the one to play with that new nugget of information, to really milk it until there's nothing more to pull from.

Everything with Eddie is different and bigger than Steve has ever encountered. And it overwhelms him even more. As he cries louder and heavier. As he chokes on his own saliva and hot breath. Even when Eddie draws in close and brings his head down between his shoulder and neck. Rocking him from side to side, humming close in his bad ear, sliding his fingers over Steve's spine and into his hair and massaging his scalp.

"Not leaving," Eddie whispers into Steve's ear. "Not with you. Never with you." He hums some more, loose notes and songs that don't quite make sense. Things that don't follow a good melody, but vibrate through Steve's skull. "I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean a single bit of it." He kisses the side of Steve's head, lips lingering where he pressed.

The next words are murmured, mapped out against Steve's hairline.

"I love you, Steve. Besting thing that ever happened to me. My beautiful baby boy."

Later that night—when Eddie chooses to stay and carefully cuddle in Steve's bed, skin bare against each other's, hair tickling and tangling with one another on the same shared pillow, fingers linking between their heated bodies—Eddie kisses him gently on the lips.

And as he pulls away, a soft, wet pop audible in the room, Steve whispers back, "I love you, too."

The first sentimental "I love you" that eventually leads to thousands, millions, trillions of never missed opportunities in the future.

#stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #post season 4 #post canon #angst and hurt/comfort #arguments and making up #character study #cliche ending #but what are you gonna do about it

[mrssimply]

ROADRAGE

V stopped the Porsche, tires screeching into an abrupt halt, dust flying everywhere around the car. He got out of the driver's seat like he'd the devil on his ass. 

And maybe that was more accurate than imagined. Johnny let out a mean laugh when V slammed the door and kneeled on his seat to crawl over the shift. His handsome face was twisted into a snarl, aviators firmly placed on his nose as he lowered the window completely.

V was shaking as he paced in front of the car. If he’d longer hair, he would be tearing it right now. As it was, he gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through the anger. It was rare nowaday that Johnny could work him like that, but the rocker had been in a foul mood the whole night, and talked shit without a break.

They’d been driving a while before V threw them on the side of this deserted road in the middle of the Badlands. A twenty minutes trip under Johnny’s constant belittling and nagging, and whining, and anti-corpo propaganda, and general criticism of V’s life choices.

Until he lost control.

“Aww, what’s the matter, babe?” Johnny sneered with a mean smile, “Did I get you all jealous?”

V closed his eyes and tried to find the patience and serenity needed to deal with Johnny when he got like that, but found none. He kept seeing the man slouched enticingly right next to that Animal psycho. She could’ve snapped his spine in three with her pinky but Johnny kept taunting her and making lewder and lewder suggestions. Worse was, she hadn’t been immune, her interest shifting from the business V had wanted her to conduct to the resurrected legend by his side.

Legs wide open, stretching his dark jeans until he might have torn them apart, Johnny had sagged in his seat, making his shirt ride up and flashing her with a hint of his flat stomach. V’s Kiroshis had zoomed despite his best intentions to her nostrils flaring, and her pupils dilating visibly. 

Johnny had smirked, his victory visible to V from the corner of his eyes, making it clear this was entirely intentional.

That was when the merc snapped.

He opened his eyes and turned to Johnny. Like a cobra rising out of its basket, the man was now bent through the window, looking at him with anger.

“Is that why you headtailed out of that gig? Are you that gonk? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make them heel for good and you botched it, why? ‘cause you can’t handle some cow making eyes at me?!”

“She wasn’t just making eyes at you,” V growled, stepping closer, pulled into the maelstrom surrounding Johnny like this was his first rodeo with the man.

The rocker laughed, out loud and cutting like a knife. 

“So what?! It’s not like I couldn’t have taken her.”

“I don’t think that’s what she was thinking about,” the merc hissed through his teeth, nearly nose to nose with his friend.

Johnny’s face fell into a sneer, eyes like cold diamonds behind his glasses. 

“Oh yeah? What was she thinking about huh?” he challenged, “Same thing you’re thinking about half the time, right? I don’t see where the problem is, V, if she was bold enough to try, maybe I should let her have a go.”

Jerking back and turning on his heels, V put some distance between them. He wasn’t gonna lose his cool, because that was exactly what Johnny had been looking for since he woke up yesterday.

“Let’s fucking go back, V,” Johnny growled, “right the fuck now.”

V only glared at him from over his shoulder, arms crossed.

“Get me back here so I can let her do what you’re obviously not capable off,” the man went on, pointing to the general direction of the city.

Amazingly, after his rebirth, Johnny had let V continue driving the Porsche. A clear proof of love if you believed Kerry and Rogue. V felt like this was a cursed gift because while Johnny insisted V drive him around, the man was on his ass the moment he took a too sharp turn, yapping on about his precious girl. The point was that Johnny liked to use V as his personal taxi, but the merc wasn’t in the mood right now.

“Drive yourself,” V replied, giving him the finger.

They looked at each other in stubborn silence, before Johnny smirked again. 

“Fine,” he concluded, becoming liquid as he folded himself back into the car.

V blinked, experiencing a moment of doubt. Johnny wasn’t really gonna get back to that mammoth, right? He wasn’t gonna let her do what he’d hinted at, right?

But the rocker was also known for his stupid pride, and apparently this was now a matter of making V lose, whatever the cost.

As Johnny turned the key into the ignition, V stepped closer again, arms coming loose at his sides.

“You’re not really going back,” he declared. 

Leaning into his seat and resting his metal arm on the windowsill, Johnny looked at V from over his glasses.

“What if I am? I mean, did you see her fingers? Bet it’s gonna feel amazing around my throat.”

In a last bid for wisdom, V tried to close his eyes again, like that had ever worked for anyone.

“Johnny…”

“V..” the man drawled the same way.

“You’re not going back to her.”

“Or yeah? You gonna do something to stop me?”

That was the question. V knew what Johnny was aiming at, he could understand the need crawling under his skin, but he generally turned to Kerry for that. 

“Are you gonna stop me?” Johnny breathed again, mouth right by V’s ear. “Shut me up like you’ve been dreaming the whole way here?”

His voice brought shiver to V’s flesh, an excited frisson running down his spine. 

“Or are you gonna choke up and chicken out? ‘Cause I bet she won’t. I bet she could hold me down and destroy me with just one hand.”

Before he realized, V had Johnny’s chin in a tight grip, fingers whitening around the rocker’s red mouth.

“Fine,” he snarled, “I’ll give it to you, bitch.”

[Continue reading on AO3]

#cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #male v #virtual photography #Johnny x V #silverV #to quote a friend #Johnny's calling is to be a bottom #nsft #it was supposed to be just a few lines #my curse

[inklore]

hi laur!! congrats on the milestone! i am a whole sucker for your Heavy Metal Love series rn so how about: “what is love to you?” with eddie from that series 🫡🫡

sorry suckers

pairing: eddie munson x rich!reader warnings: eighteen+ content, drug use (weed smoking). etc: you don’t have to read heavy metal love to fully grasp this but it is an added bonus because these two are amazing and i love them sm omg.

“What?” Eddie’s choking on laughter—or maybe it’s on the puff he just inhaled right as the question slipped out; through the haze of your high mind and from your lips like awkward word vomit.

The two of you are on the hood of his van, joint passing between you—the usual song and dance—the stars above shining brighter out here, the further you get from Hawkins, from Eddie’s trailer. Some beaten off path deep in the woods that you’re sure he only knows about no thanks to this very reason, and his dealings.

There’s a heavy weight in your chest, a sinking feeling that maybe you should backpedal. Pretend the words didn’t come out, or at the very least blame it on being high.

But the two of you have been doing this for a month now, sharing blunts, jokes, taunts—fries that one time you snuck out at midnight and smoked at Eddie’s trailer and you were starving.

Eddie saving the day when he pulled out a bag of frozen french fries, smirking like he had just solved the world's hardest equation. Your knuckles bumping against each other’s each time either of you went to dip your fry into ketchup. Your eyes meeting to smile and laugh about it.

Not to mention all the other things the two of you have been sharing; bodily fluids, spit, moans, praises.

So the feeling in your chest shouldn’t be there, not stopping you at the very least. Embarrassment and Eddie didn’t go in the same sentence. If this was anyone else, you’d be turning in on yourself and feeling like a fool. Receiving a dirty look or belittlement.

But not with Eddie.

He’s just laughing and raising his brows at you playfully.

“What is love to you?” You repeat trying to swallow down the insecurities of the question. Trying not to overthink why your weed muddled brain even went down that track.

It seemed the more the two of you did this, spent time together, you couldn’t help what slipped past your lips. Found it harder to go back to that proper girl, perfect daughter, mindless follower amongst your friends and family—the longer you spent with Eddie the more you felt like….you.

“You're serious?” Eddie asks, the smoke of the blunt wafting across his eyeline as he holds it to his lips ready to take another puff, but waiting for you to let him know if this was one of your weed epiphanies or teasing lines that turned into sex—or the latter.

“Deadly.” You confirm with a nod. Hone in on the way his lips wrap around the joint, eyebrows pulling together as he thinks.

“Don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it.” He admits, passes you the blunt; laces his fingers against his stomach and looks up at the sky.

“Never felt it?”

He shrugs, “not in the traditional way. Not all of us have been blessed with the whole town being in love with them.” He teases, shooting you a sidelong look.

You snort, “please.”

There’s silence as you smoke, eyes to the sky as you debate the question yourself. The plant pressed to your lips scraping up realizations, thoughts, feelings, sentiments you’ve never known until this—until Eddie.

“Hellfire.”

“Hmm?”

“Love.”

A silence, as you try to read his mind. Try to comprehend the two.

“Eddie,” you begin to laugh. “I am not picking up whatever this philosophical confession is meant to be.”

The hood of the van shakes as the two of you double over in hysterics.

“I just–” he says, trying to catch his breath. To stop the laughter. “I just meant that I feel love for that.” He elaborates, “new campaigns, my friends, when I’m playing on a stage–drunks and all. That’s the closest this cynical vessel has ever gotten to love.”

You smile, “so nerdy.”

He gives you a teasing look, “and yet you’re hanging out with this nerd. Sound the alarms!”

“Shut up!” You swat his shoulder, pass the joint back to him.

“What about you?” He repeats your question back to you in playful mockery that makes your cheeks burn, and you have to look away from him.

Chewing on your bottom lip as you sift through all the thoughts and feelings in your head. Shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t think I’ve felt it either. In the traditional way.”

“Running lover boys name into the ground again?”

You roll your eyes, “he loves himself too much to make room for anyone else.”

“If I had biceps like that I might too,” you turn to see him flex, as if he were some big body builder. The leather of his jacket showing nothing, making the laughter rocking your chest that much more heady.

“His biceps are the least impressive thing about him, trust me. There’s no depth there.”

Eddie runs the back of his hand over his forehead, “and here I was about to get jealous.”

You want to tell him that there is no competition between the two of them. That he would out win any comparison, any pro and cons list you could ever make. Eddie would always come out on top, you’ve long given up trying to hide the simple fact that you’d rather be around Eddie than anyone else in your life.

The realization still makes your stomach sink, ache, scare the hell out of you.

And like usual, when these thoughts pop into your head, you go silent for a handful of minutes. Try to keep your eyes off of him and stew in everything you’re feeling.

But then the word vomit comes back and you’re finally answering the question.

“I think I’d know if I felt it though.” Your eyes trace the stars, focus on the twinkling to aid you in getting everything out. “It’s one of those feelings that would feel like a gut punch, ya know? Like when you first feel it it’s going to stop you right in your tracks. And it’ll happen so suddenly that even if you wanted to run from it, it would already have you in its grasp. You’d already feel the butterflies everytime they do something idiotic to make you laugh, or waiting by the phone for them to call, or lose your breath every time you see them after a really shitty day, or your skin would burn when you catch them staring at you. Like all those cheesy rock songs preach about.” You tease. “It'll just feel comfortable, too comfortable. Almost scary.”

Your words come out a mile a minute, ribs feel bruised from how heavy in your chest your heart is beating. There’s a laugh that dies in your throat when you turn in his direction, about to offhandedly brush everything you said off with a joke.

But the look on Eddie’s face, the seriousness of it—how it’s making your skin burn—has you swallowing hard and losing any train of thought, dismissive emotions going off the rails. Crashing and burning.

A slow grin pulls up his lips eventually and it makes your heart leap.

He takes a puff from the joint, lifts it in the air. “To love and the sorry suckers who go through it,” passing the smoke to you.

“To love,” you repeat his actions, laughing around the paper.

“Sounds miserable.” He jokes, fiddles with his rings.

“Absolutely.” You sigh, watching him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #blurb week

[sandeoki]

Pirate Crew

request

pairing: pirate! hongjoong x reader, slight seonghwa x reader

warnings: mean!hongjoong, pirate!hongjoong, reader is trapped in a cell, it stinks, seonghwa doesn't know how to lie(he's precious, okay?)

"soooo, when are you guys planning to let me out? it's getting kind of boring in here."

seonghwa let out another sigh as he reached forward to pass the food he was carrying to the girl trapped in the dark cell.

"when will you stop whining, huh? I know you are not used to the dirty floor and smelly air of a pirate ship but this ain't your castle, little princess. you should've thought about the consequences before sneaking into our ship."

he gently caressed the princess's cheek through the bars. the sound of loud footsteps rang through the stale air startling both the princess and the pirate.

"captain" The guy got on one knee to give respect to the man who he referred to as captain. this intrigued the princess.

she had thought Seonghwa was the captain as he was the one who she saw in the market most often getting supplies for his pirate ship.

the same very ship y/n tried to sneak into. the same ship which held the dark cell she was currently sitting in.

"You may rise, Seonghwa." the man who was apparently the 'captain' ordered.

"I was going over the updates with yeosang and it came to my notice that a certain royal brat has decided to join us. quite a shock, I admit."

the tone 'captain' used annoyed y/n a lot. it was as if he was mocking her. belittling her. looking down on her. it reminded her of the people she was running from. it reminded her of her family.

"aww, how sweet of you. oh I must be such a lucky woman, to be graced by the presence of the captain himself! I must've done some really good deeds in my past lives to recieve such an honor!"

Seonghwa stood there awkwardly as he watched the princess he had seen grow from a kid to a young woman and his best friend who was also the captain glare daggers at each other.

He cleared his throat loudly and decided it was best if he introduced the two to diffue the tension a bit.

"Y/n this is the captain of our ship, Hongjoong. Hongjoong, this is y/n. she is the princess-

hongjoong raised a hand to silence the guy as he started moving forward, going towards the cell. he peered down at the young girl and then turned back to look at Seonghwa.

"A prisoner. that's all she is. the moment she stepped on my ship, she became my prisoner. no need to give her any special treatment. she'll rot in her cell just like any other prisoner we have."

just as he turned his back to them and started retreating, a voice stopped him.

"hey you, just who do you think you are, huh? I am not your prisoner, heard me? I'm not asking for any special treatment. all I want is to make a request and as a citizen, prisoner or not, I have the right to make requests."

"mind repeating that for me, princess? first you sneak into my ship, then you dare talk back to me and you want to make requests now? does this seem like a joke to you? well, you better cut it out because I hate jokes, little bird."

his voice raised an octave as he kept walking towards her cell with every word he spoke. he looked at her, straight in the eyes, before grabbing her by the jaw.

"but still, I'm feeling quite generous today. tell me your wish and I may grant it." his grin made y/n feel sick in the stomach but she knew better than to act on it.

"I want to be a part of your crew"

silence. complete silence. silence which was soon replaced by cackling laughter. the captain was clutching his stomach from laughter while seonghwa looked at the girl with concern.

"y/n have you lost it!"

"Oh hush Hwa, let me deal with the birdie. my apologies for laughing, princess. it's just...the thought of a little bird, spoiled in a castle ever since birth, working like common labor in a pirate ship, really amused me. what do you think seonghwa? after all, you used to be quite close to birdie, didn't you?"

the comment managed to make both the girl and Seonghwa share a worried look. none of them could figure out how hongjoong knew about their past together.

seonghwa and y/n knew each other ever since they were kids. he was the son of the kingdom's best warrior.

his father often brought him to the royal court during meetings where the king discussed about the shortcomings with his army while young seonghwa and y/n played dolls together.

things remained the same until they reached their teenage when both started seeing each other as something more than playmates.

their forbidden romance had been a secret from all. carefully hidden between the sheets of her bed in the castle and the cliff they claimed as their spot.

it wasn't until seonghwa left his home to become a pirate that the two lovers separated. he knew the path he chose came with sacrifices and leaving her behind was one of them.

so with teary eyes and one last kiss, he bid her a goodbye and went on to become a pirate. the eyes which once were always on each other now fleetingly met during his trips to the market.

the fire hadn't been completely extinguished but it wasn't that strong either. their story was one forbidden love and silent pain. it was a story hidden well from the whole world.

it was a shock to both the past lovers how someone knew about them when they had hidden it so well.

"i-i'm not sure what you are trying to imply captain but I assure you that whatever you are thinking is incorrect."

y/n physically cringed when seonghwa's breaking voice and lack of eye contact gave them away. he hadn't changed at all.

his inability to lie was one of the traits that y/n adored but now it will be the same trait that will have them walking the plank.

"tch, you should know better than to lie to me Park. you know I don't take dishonesty lightly. as for you, little bird, don't look so glum. I'm not going to do anything to you or your little lover. I can't care less about whatever is going on between you two, I just don't want my crew to be distracted. so you better get you head straight and give good results."

y/n mindlessly nodded as she watched him leave through the door. a solid minute passed by before the realization struck her.

"crew? does that mean my job application got accepted?!?"

part 2 coming soon :)

#che.rry ateez #ateez #kim hongjoong #pirate! hongjoong #pirate! ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong imagines

[simpforchuchu]

Kakucho x reader x Tenjiku

A/n: New fic, new tries xjdjjx Love you <3

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: gangs, violence, blood...

"Are you sure this is it, Shion? I have a bad feeling."

Shion looked at the young girl and then glanced around. It was really quiet and no one was in sight.

"According to the intelligence the men got, he should have been here. If you're afraid we can go y/n-chan"

Y/n looked at the dumbest member of the gang, who was belittling her for being a girl, and rolled her eyes. She really didn't like him. But she knew that if she started an argument again, Izana would be really pissed off.

"Let's wait a little longer, if no one comes-"

At that moment, many gang members entered the place with sticks in their hands. They were just looking for an informant for a simple deal, but they were sure that the people they saw were not the informers. Shion got a sudden reflex and looked at the people.

Y/n understood what had happened, they had sent false news to Izana to declare war. There was no informant.

"Shion, we need to get out of here. And now." Even though he knew that Y/n was right when she said it, Shion knew they couldn't escape and wanted to distract them.

"Hello guys! I see you've gathered quite a large team just to welcome the two of us. I'm really proud but with your permission we have to go." At Shion's words, the gang leader on the opposite team laughed and looked at his friends. "Do you hear guys? What's Shion saying?" When the entire gang laughed, Shion smiled too. "Shion Madarame and y/n l/n ! I'd love to see the stronger members of the tenjiku against me, but luck is with you!"

When the gang leader finished his words, looking specifically at y/n, they both understood that things would get dirtier.

"Now... Go and tell your leader that 'gang name' has declared war on Tenjiku. If Izana Kurokowa comes and surrenders, we can end this war without anyone getting hurt. If he doesn't agree, we will destroy one of his men every day!"

Shion and y/n looked at each other angrily. They both looked at each other as if asking what is this idiot saying. But there was something they didn't know. They were the lucky ones today. When Shion fell to the ground from the hard blow to the head, y/n opened her eyes in horror and shouted. "Shion!"

Not long after, she too lost her balance and stumbled after being punched by the person next to her. But since they didn't hit her with a stick, she was still standing and could fight...

...

Izana and the other leaders were gathering and eating something. They were having fun in the large garden, on the tables and chairs. When one of the gang members came running in, Izana asked with a cold expression when everyone looked in that direction. "What's going on? What's your hurry?" The young boy spoke with fear

"Y/n, Shion... they're trapped. We heard around, someones attacked the two of them." Everyone at the table froze. Izana quickly stood up as Kakucho stood up with him. Kaku was only praying for her to be okay as everyone rushed out of the room.

...

"Stop! Just don't hit him anymore! Can't you see? He's not even conscious!"

Y/n, on one hand and on her knees, shouted at the people who had kicked Shion in front of her. She didn't like him at all, but she didn't want him to die either. It was also very despicable, they had attacked with weapons. The gang leader came in front of y/n laughing and pressed her hand on the ground and smiled. Leader spoke while y/n shouting in pain.

"Aw, y/n-chan! I'm most happy to meet you, you know?" He pulled his foot over her hand and bent down to level with y/n. He grabbed her hair hard and pulled it. Their eyes met, y/n glaring at him with hatred. "I want you under my command. Who wouldn't want someone as beautiful and talented as you?"

Y/n looked hatefully at the scumbag pulling her hair and touching her cheek. She forgot the pain and spit in his face. The leader angrily wiped his face and let y/n go. With a hard kick, the young girl fell to the ground in pain and continued to kick her on the ground.

...

After a while, all Tenjiku leaders came to the empty street. When they quickly entered there, they saw a lot of gang members watching something. When they all looked at that spot, they saw a tall person kicking a girl on the ground.

Both Izana and the leaders immediately recognized the girl on the ground. When they looked a little further, they also saw Shion lying motionless on the ground, and Izana shouted. "You're going to cry and beg for every time you hit her!"

Everyone looked at the Tenjiku leaders who had suddenly entered the scene. There weren't even any other men in the gang, only the leaders were here. The leader of the opposing gang stopped hitting y/n and turned to Izana.

"Izana! You're finally here! I hope you're not as weak as your men!"

Izana looked angrily at the man infront of him and smiled. He turned to the leaders and spoke with a smile.

“Take Shion and y/n to the hospital, no one will touch the leader. He is mine!”

The leaders all nodded. Mucho took Shion on his back, while Kakucho took y/n in his arms and pulled her out.

Now it was the turn of the two leaders' war...

#kakucho x reader #izana x reader #tenjiku x reader #tenjiku #kakucho #izana #ran haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani brothers #mucho #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader

[deansclassics]

hi i wrote this steve h. fic awhile ago but never finished it 😭

———————————————————————she/her pronouns

steve being depressive???

definitely not proofread

not finished

———————————————————————

Steve Harrington was attractive. God everyone knew. All those girls that had flung themselves at him in his high school years had established this notion. But nonetheless in Steve’s mind, he believed he was not. He wouldn’t call himself ugly but he never felt like all the attention was deserved. Even after you and him had gotten together it was still hard for him to believe that someone like you, a kind and genuine person was with him, of all people. He never doubted your love for him, he just doubted the fact that he deserved it. These were the thoughts always in the back of Steve’s mind and when he eventually got tired of his brain he turned off his bedroom lights and went to bed.

The next morning Steve woke up and got ready for his afternoon shift with Robin at the dreaded Family Video. He was glad that he got a job with one of his favorite people, it made everything less boring when your best friend was helping you organize videotapes by genre’s. Once he had made it to work he was greeted at the door by none other then Robin Buckley. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here dingus! It’s awfully sunny today.” “Yea sorry about that, my mom needed my car so I had to come walking.” Steve responded with a yawn at the end, screw his brain for keeping him up late. “Don’t sweat it, could you just open the door faster.” She said wanting to get away from the hot Indiana sun.

Once they clocked in and started the tasks Keith had assigned to them, Robin had accidentally spilled at stack of magazines which delayed their tasks by 20 minutes. She was very apologetic to the brunette who looked like he was already done with today before it had even started. Robin had decided it was best if she didn’t start with her usual and entertaining teasing of Steve, seeing that he may not be in the mood to deal with their playful banter. They both continued with work over the next few hours occasionally taking turns helping each costumer who had wandered into the store.

To say that Steve was over today was an understatement, he was ready to crawl in a hole and stay there forever. It was something about last night that had really put him in a foul mood, of course he would never admit that to himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he just didn’t deserve any of your love and care. He felt unworthy of such actions, like he wasn’t enough. He sat at the counter staring off into space essentially belittling himself and his worth. That was until he heard the bell indicating that someone had stepped into the store, he turned around to ask Robin if she could handle the costumer but he saw her walk into the break room and came to the conclusion that he would just have to do it.

But when Steve turned back around to greet the costumer who had just walked in, he was met with the one person he didn’t want to see but desperately needed to see, you. “Hi Stevie! Whatcha’ up to? Is Robin here?” you cheerfully said as the man with gorgeous hair who you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend looked directly at you. “Hi sweetheart. I just finished putting some things away but umm.. yea Robins here, she’s just in the break room.” Steve said in a very dull voice that told you something was up.

“Well.. your mom called me and told me she left you without a car stranded at work and asked if I could pick you up.” You said with a laugh at the thought of Steve being stranded at Family Video. This however did not make Steve laugh, why would his mom call you? Make you waste finite resources to come pick him up from work. “Oh my god..” he said bringing his palm up to make contact with his face. “I’m so sorry my mom made you come all the way over here to pick me up.” You saw him dig into his pocket for something. “Here— I have some money. It should cover the cost of—“ You grabbed his face and pulled him closer to you. “Steve I don’t need money from you. And your mom didn’t make me, she asked if I could and I came because I love you and don’t want you walking in the dark.” He stood there staring at you with glossy eyes as he tried to decipher what kind of spell had been cast that would compel you to want to do something like that for him. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips and let go of him as you heard Robin emerge from the break room.

“Hey Y/N! As much as I would love to help you out pick a new horror movie to watch, Steve and I have to close up shop.” She said with a smile on her face which let you know that she didn’t mean anything in a rude way and that she was just ready to hit the hay. “Hi Rob. Don’t worry, I’m not here for a new film. I just came to pick up Steve.” You looked at him with such love and adoration that he couldn’t, for the life of him figure out why he deserved it. What heroic act had he committed in his past life to be graced with you.

“I’m so ready to leave!” Robin said as she sighed ready to have the work day be over with. “Y/N do you think I could hitch a ride?” the tall trumpet player asked with hopeful eyes set on her friends. Robin locked up the store as she awaited your response. “Yea it’s no problem!” you said as you made your way to your car. Steve still had not spoken, he just didn’t feel like it, there was something going on so you and Robin didn’t want to push him.

When Robin had been dropped off at her house, Steve had noticed that you were driving in the opposite direction of his house. “Are you kidnapping me? We’re heading in the wrong direction sweetheart.” He said as he looked out the car window and watched the Hawkins trees fly by. “Your mom said it was ok if you stayed at mine. If you don’t wanna it’s ok— I can turn the car around.” You knew Steve wasn’t gonna turn down the invitation to sleep in your bed and eat the food your parents had cooked. “What are we eating?” he asked resting his head on the window and closing his eyes. You responded with a classic dish your mom made that you knew he always enjoyed. For the first time today he had smiled a full Steve Harrington smile that had literally made your heart skip a heat. “Ok. I’ll stay.” he responded as he stifled a yawn.

When Steve walked into your house he was greeted with the sent of your parents’ delicious cooking. He had always loved being at your house, he enjoyed being surrounded by your family’s dynamic. His parents never really cooked for him or cared about spending time with him. So, when he came to your house it always felt like he was experiencing what his childhood should have been like. Steve felt those emotions from last night comeback and it didn’t make it any better when your parents turned around and greeted him with huge smiles. “Hello Steve!” your dad had said to him as he quickly turned back around to continued cutting vegetables. “Hello. It’s great to see you guys. Sorry about crashing dinner— Y/N kidnapped me.” he added a joke at the end trying to defuse the tension in his head. God they were Steve’s favorite adults, he wished he could have had someone like them when he was growing up. “Steve! Have you cut your hair?” your mom said as she rushed over to Steve and gave him a hug whilst inspecting his brown hair that she loved oh so very much. “No I haven’t. I think it’s that new hair gel I used this morning?”

Finally when all the greetings had come to an end and you kindly asked your mom to call you both down when the food was ready, you and Steve made it to your bedroom. He made a beeline for your bed and plopped on it, as well as making sure to take off his shoes before he sat up and opened up the colorful blanket that was always sprawled on your bed before laying back down and wrapping it all over himself.

“Are you tired Stevie?” You asked as you made your way to the bed and held him in your arms. “Yea, just a bit, these past few days have not been kind to me.” He surprisingly admitted. Something about you holding him and the thought of eating his favorite food opened him up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You whispered very quietly as if trying to not disturb his sleepy aura. “After dinner, right now can we just sit here? It helps me remind myself of something.” “Ok.” You said not fully understanding what he was referring to but nonetheless you planted a kiss to his head.

And so you both sat there in each other’s soft embrace waiting for your mom to come in and tell you dinner was ready. She eventually knocked on the door and said it was time to eat.

Dinner was filled with comfortable small talk about upcoming assignments and work promotions. Steve admired the way everyone intently listen as someone spoke, hanging off every word. When dinner was over you and Steve offered to clean up as a fair trade for the meal and your parents thanked you and made their way to their room to watch a movie they had mentioned earlier. You figured now was a good time to think of what you were going to say to Steve, but also prepare for the conversation ahead.

Once the dishes had been washed and put away, you can Steve head towards your bedroom. Steve had also decided that he was going to let it all out. His thoughts had been plaguing him and what was a healthy relationship if you couldn’t communicate properly? He knew you would appreciate the honesty. As he sat on your bed with his body rested against some pillows he watched you close the door and make your way across from him on the bed, awaiting his voice. He let out a cough as he thought about where to begin. “I’ve been feeling off lately,” he said quietly. He continued as he stared at your face that read ‘Go on.’ “What I mean to say is that…I’ve been feeling shitty about - well myself.” Your facial expression was soft and unwavering as you continued to listen. “I know you love me sweetheart. Trust me I know. It’s just that sometimes-“ he took a deep and stead breath, “sometimes I just don’t think I deserve it.” This he said in a whisper as if he was ashamed of it, almost as if finally saying these words out loud made him feel silly.

Steve went on to tell you about his late night thoughts and other things that had kept him up at night, as he bared his soul to you he finally started to realize he was crying once you moved closer as began to wipe his face.

————————————————

#steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve x y/n #steve harrington x fem

[krikeymate]

Adding to the AU about Sam being taken hostage

When Chad and Mindy find out via the news that Sam really wasn’t the killer and even worse that she’s been drugged starved and held hostage for that entire time, the feeling of guilt that hits them is astronomical

They immediately call Tara but Tara ignores each and every one. They even show up to the hospital to visit Sam but Tara takes one look at them and tells them to wait outside because Sam is still unconscious and healing from what happened. Tara steps out and stands in front of the closed door. Crosses her arms.

Chad: “Tara, we’re so sorry. We didn’t-“ he trails off.

Mindy picks up for him: “we swear, if we had any idea we would have-“

Tara cuts her off. “Would have what? Actually believed me when I said it could never be Sam. Actually listened when I said she wouldn’t leave me, that she would never hate me enough to start killing girls who look like me. When I begged you to just help me, even a little and you both had refused. You Mindy, you even laughed. Made some remark about how Sam had finally cracked and how it would make sense because of your stupid ideas on franchises.

And you Chad, right before Ethan died, no, right before I stuck a knife in his throat and watched him die, he told me that you would vent to him. Tell him about how naive I was to believe in Sam. Tell him that Sam had probably lost it and I was in denial. He got a real kick out of that.”

And they both fall quiet as Tara attempts to rein in her anger. She takes a deep breath, slowly lets it out. Tells them that they should probably just leave.

When they try to beg to at least see Sam, to at least check for themselves that she’s okay, Tara tells them to go once again.

“But Tara-“

“Get the FUCK out!”

Tara pretty much causes a huge scene and forces them to leave.

Tara will never forgive them for not believing in Sam the way she does. For belittling her concerns. For not helping. Sam is a bit more understanding, she gets why they would think it was her. Hell, for some time even she started getting mixed up and believed it was her but for Tara, those friendships are over. She’s done. And it infuriates her that Sam would ever think to forgive them for the unforgivable.

Previous. The Core 4 falling apart before they've even really begun.

Sam would 100% be willing to forgive and forget, she gets it. The evidence was against her and she knows she would be capable of it, probably, in her darker moments. Tara would go nuclear. She knows Sam, and if their friends couldn't trust Sam then they could at least have trusted Tara. If they can't trust her, then what place do they have in her life?

It would lead to a total role reversal with Tara being terrified to let Sam out of her sight, having come so close to losing her. Tara doesn't even begin to process her old trauma before new stuff is piling on top of it. And then with the rumours online getting worse? She wants to just take Sam and hide away from the rest of the world. Fuck her education, fuck whatever stupid future she had planned. So long as she has Sam and they're safe, that's all she needs. Sam's trying to deal with her own thoughts on the situation and she got fired by her therapist and now it's like Tara is trying to be the big sister and make up for the past year and it's all so confusing. She can see her sister is falling apart but this time she doesn't know how to help her, she's falling apart on Sam's behalf. She doesn't know how to fix this.

#/mp #ask box #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #scream canon divergence

[isfjmel-phleg]

I'm a big fan of those moments in stories where a character who has previously been utterly obnoxious lets a bit of the façade slip and you get to see for the first time what's really behind it and how they might be capable of growth after all--and you have to completely recontextualize your understanding of them.

For instance...

When Kon is introduced, he's a showboating egomaniac who is rude, violent, or inappropriate with just about everyone and has a massive sense of entitlement. There's an incident in which his showing-off leads to the destruction of a Daily Planet helicopter and the death of its pilot. Steel, who had to step in to deal with the problem, grabs Kon up by the scruff of his neck and gives him a severe talking-to. Kon's initial response is to get defensive and angry, but after flying off alone, he self-examines for the first time in his very short life and has to come to terms with his own selfishness (and goes back and apologizes later). This will be the start of a pattern for him: he often reacts in anger but he's also capable of rethinking and learning from mistakes. The attention-seeking is a role that he was created to play, and behind it there's a child with no guidance who wants to do the right thing but doesn't know how.

(Superman: The Man of Steel #23)

Bart is introduced trying to kill Wally on sight and, after getting his aging straightened out, proceeds to be a reckless, thoughtless, petulant nuisance. This is compounded by the fact that we see him almost exclusively from the perspective of Wally, who can't stand him. After Wally passes over Bart as his intended successor before a potentially fatal mission (it's actually a ruse to try to motivate him to learn), Bart and Jesse Quick spend some time together, and he opens up enough to reveal that he's determined to prove himself, he cares about Wally more than he lets on, and he still hasn't adjusted to not being in his own time. He's a displaced child from the future, transported to an era in which he is scolded and belittled for doing things according to the definition of normal he was raised with, which accounts for his near-constant frustration. And yeah, he could use an attitude adjustment, but he's not just being annoying to be annoying. He's even capable of loyalty, however begrudging, to the cousin who has made no secret of his disdain for him. There's complexity here.

(The Flash 1987 #98)

Thad is introduced as a villain and presented as such for most of his appearances--until we're given his narration during the time he spends impersonating Bart and we find out that his motivations are not limited to his murder mission. There are moments previously that hint at his being more pitiable than evil, but I think we first see what he really wants out of life after one of the social interactions that he loathes results in his managing to make "his" friends laugh. He's not just a supervillain bent on revenge; he's a kid getting his first taste of being liked and accepted on his own terms and realizing what he has missed out on his whole long, long lonely life. This complicates our understanding of him and makes his defeat in the climax more tragic than triumphant.

(Impulse #65)

Damian is awful when he first shows up. He attacks his father, refuses to follow even the most reasonable of instructions, loudly insists that no one can make him do anything, cusses out Alfred, throws a tantrum when his father won't let him have a laptop or a sword, insults and rejects food, steals the Robin uniform and goes out and beheads a criminal, tries to kill Tim, and generally behaves like a spoiled brat. It's made clear that this behavior is a product of his upbringing, with its horrifying combination of violence and indulgence. But the moment when we first see the vulnerability behind it is when Damian spills his mother's plans to his father and adds frantically, "See? I can be useful!" The ruthless assassin is really just a ten-year-old boy who is desperate to help the father whose respect he longs for. Given guidance and love, he could be better, and will be, but it's a long, difficult road there.

(Batman #658)

There are further examples, I'm sure, but these are the ones that stand out from what I've read.

#comicsposting again #KE: all I got is who I am #BA: fastest attitude alive #TT: sort of like twins #DW: a beautiful exceptional child

[usuimisaki]

Why do I like reading shoujo so much?

My first reaction is to deflect. That’s how society is. Adults write and write sordid stories about teenagers all the time, a la Gossip Girl and Euphoria. Furthermore, we live in a man’s world, and men gobble up stuff which is ostensibly for boys: superheroes and their ilk. But when women fangirl over stuff ostensibly for girls we’re belittled for being juvenile.

Even if it’s not an unusual problem, it still begs the question why. Why is the world so preoccupied with youth to the point that they have characters who are literal minors? I’ve actually read and enjoyed multiple josei works, but they’ve never inspired the type of hyperfixation that shoujo manga has inspired. Josei and seinen are complex and messy. I accept that messiness. But with shoujo like KWMS and GSNK things are simpler. There’s more room to play. The characters, no matter how developed, are still literally undeveloped. This can inspire future fic of what the characters will be like as adults. It also makes them more malleable. High schoolers exist in a liminal space. They can go anywhere, be anything. They have choices and the freedom to take those choices in hand.

Adult manga (not sexually explicit, but dealing with adulthood) is about limits. The characters are getting old. They’re leaving dreams behind. They’re settling in their careers or accepting that their relationships aren’t ideal. They’re compromising—because reality. Besides romance and friends, they also have to deal with a job and taking care of their parents and/or taking care of kids. I love these kinds of stories because they are a mirror of my own life, or things that I can realistically imagine having to deal with.

My high school days are behind me, and I have to say, I didn’t enjoy them that much. The teenage dramas I read about are less a reminder of my high school days than a high school fantasy—one where school is more of a background than a concern and parents hardly even make an appearance.

Contrast this to office worker josei. Even the most sexually explicit manga where you’d think the office space is just a convenient setting always has some office drama which is ultimately about worker competency. Love is Hard for Otaku is mostly about dating and being an otaku, but fitting into office culture and being competent at your job is inseparable part of it as well.

KWMS is actually fairly complex for shoujo. It acknowledges that some students have financial difficulties and it has Misaki compete with Usui academically and studying for college entrance exams is a big plot line, but most of the time she’s more concerned about school council activities in a hyperbolic manner. And despite the series being about the contrast between being a school president and a maid, more of the storylines center on her part-time job at the maid cafe. She enters into a relationship with a rich foreigner with a tragic backstory which causes them to have to endure a long-distance relationship. But somehow they overcome all of that. And Misaki’s family’s dire financial straits get resolved even before she marries into the .01%.

GSNK though? Those kids must all be frickin’ rich. They never seem to have any concerns about having money to go out to a cafe, buy manga, or buy clothes. Kashima is the only one with a job, and she’s probably just working there because the cafe needs staff. There’s maybe one chapter where three not-so-great students try to study together with poor results—but since these students aren’t very academically focused, it’s just played off for laughs. The best student (Kashima) also has some of the least common sense. The one with the actual least common sense (Wakamatsu) is the second best student out of the cast. The only time we’ve seen parents are when it was played for laughs how Nozaki could live away from home because 1) he had his own money and 2) he knew how to cook, though he was lacking in 3) romantic experience.

Shoujo is about the possibility of love, and that when you do fall in love, that it’s going to last a lifetime. It’s about one true pairings.

Josei is about navigating new relationships with the scars of your previous relationships. One of my favorite josei series, Kimi was Petto, is all about that. It’s about the uncertainty that the relationship you’re in is good enough to stand the test of time, the realities of finances, career, social pressure, familial acceptance, and sense of self.

Shoujo hardly ever touches on those topics, preferring to create a love triangle for manufactured conflict. Again, KWMS is a bit of an exception. There’s definitely the love triangle aspect because you need to look at the different possibilities without, like, having had those other possibilities, but it does at least address class differences and different family culture and how that can lead to social pressure for college and career paths (which is why Usui goes to college in the UK and Misaki feels like she needs to get into a more competitive college). In the meantime, Tsubaki-sensei has acknowledged her fans’ with for an endless summer, so that Hori will never graduate and go to college—which is kind of odd, considering that there’s a college so local that they work at the same cafe as Kashima. But still, if Hori were to be a college student, then he wouldn’t haunt the hallways of Roman Academy or be able to interact with Kashima in drama club.

So let’s get to the gist of it. Why do I write smut with high school characters. Well, I love these characters. And they’re in high school. And I’m a sucker for canon. So it makes sense to set these sex scenes in high school. It’s not that I’ve never aged up these characters, but when I do I run into problems, like the fact that Misaki and Usui don’t live in same country. Or that Hori and Kashima are actually dealing with some actual drama about their future careers and how to define a relationship. Or they have kids, which are a huge impediment to having sex.

I recently read about centering lives around friendship instead of romantic relationships, and what it is that creates barriers for friendships, platonic or not. You need to have time and a shared space and touch. Two of the three are really easy to come by in school, where you don’t just spend 8 hours a day kind of goofing off on your parents’ dime, but you also live close together. Not to dismiss the huge pressure some students have to study and get into an elite college, but you do have more free time on your hands as a student, just because you don’t have to spend that time paying bills or cleaning your own house. I really don’t know how Nozaki does it.

#shoujo #josei #kaichou wa maid sama #gekkan shoujo nozaki kun #ramblings #about high school as a liminal space