#i know i said this was too long but it’s also too short

[seresinhangmanjake]

Fremen Girl

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fremen!reader

Summary: The potential wife of any future Baron must prove herself by surviving in the arena before the current Baron will permit the marriage. In this case, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants a wife, and he might have just found a woman capable of meeting that challenge.

Notes/Warnings: this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :) Also, Dune inaccuracies and typos.

Words: 900

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

The toe of a boot jams into your calf. Your knees are the first to crack on the tiled flooring of Arrakeen Palace’s throne room. You land with a grunt, followed by four more grunts as the knees of your Fremen brothers are forced down beside you.

That’s all that remains of the troop sent to attack one of the Harkonnen patrol groups. Out of twenty-one, only five. 

The five of you make a neat line in front of the empty throne with you in the middle. From left to right, one after the other reduced to half height, your heads down, arms bound behind your backs, and blood dripping from various Harkonnen-inflicted wounds. 

Your only wound is a swollen, busted lip, which you found curious until you realized their goal was to capture the remaining few of you, not kill. That swift fist to the face had caught you off guard while you were trying to aid a friend who inevitably met their death, and in that moment, you knew you were going to be made an example of; a warning to other Fremen: Be smart. Don’t end up like this girl. 

So, here you are, in a Harkonnen-occupied palace awaiting your grim fate, forced to bow to an old baron you thought was too lazy to leave his home planet of Giedi Prime, let alone bother with a handful of Fremen who made a minuscule dent in his massive army. 

But then you hear footsteps echoing as they make their way through the vast, hollow room. 

“Are these the ones?” is asked in a low, gruff voice. It’s akin to the voices of the men who brought you here, but it contains a unique richness and lacks the worn, overused quality that comes from many decades of aging. Definitely not the Baron.

“Yes, my Lord na-Baron,” one of the brutes answers from behind you, conveniently answering your unasked question as well.

“And which of them did the most damage?” 

Thick fingers dig into your hair, nails scraping your scalp as your head is yanked back. You swallow your whine from the pain and meet a set of deep blue eyes. You know those eyes—well, you know stories of those eyes. As a small child, you overheard whispers amongst the Fremen elders of the Harkonnen boy with the soulless eyes who killed his mother and maimed his family’s slaves. The promising younger nephew of the Baron: Feyd-Rautha. Barely older than yourself and yet word of his deadly glare was already jumping from planet to planet. 

But those eyes change as they look at you. There’s a quick shift from wicked to amused, a glint flitting across his irises as he scans your face. His lips tick upward—almost imperceptibly—but you catch it before it disappears. 

“Release her,” the future baron instructs. The tension from your abused strands eases as he steps forward and crouches in front of you, much too close for your liking. You want to flinch away, but Fremen do not cower to intimidation. 

“So,” he starts, peering into you, “you're the one causing me trouble, hmm?”

“She took down twelve of our men.”

His brow raises and his head tilts, but Feyd-Rautha does not break your stare. “Twelve? Is that right?”

“She bites as well, the fucking bitch,” the soldier grumbles to his leader. When you roll your eyes, said leader's lips quirk again. “Too much spirit in her if you ask me.”

All sense of amusement drains from the na-Baron’s features. Cold blue eyes flick to the soldier, and with the attention momentarily off of you, you take a breath. 

“I did not ask you,” he says in an eerily calm tone. 

You can practically hear the gulp that struggles to make its way down the other Harkonnen’s throat. “Apologies, my Lord.”

Feyd-Rautha returns his gaze to you. He examines you for a few long beats before lifting his hand and swiping his thumb through the blood beginning to cake on your split lip. 

“Don’t touch her!” comes from the left in your native tongue.

You wince. He’s one of the younger ones, just shy of your age. Well-trained enough to be a dangerous force, faster than the older Fremen at your sides, but so full of hatred for Harkonnens that his enthusiasm has him making silly mistakes, clearly not excluding shouting in a threatening tone when it would be best to remain silent. 

The butt of a Harkonnen weapon slams into the back of his head and he falls forward, landing face-first on the floor. 

The na-Baron doesn’t pay the disruption a lick of attention. His index finger meets his thumb and they swirl together in small circles until they’re thoroughly coated in your blood. Then, one at a time, he sticks them into his mouth and sucks that little bit of you off of each pale digit. 

“Lover?” he asks you, nudging his head toward your knocked-out friend. You shake your head.

Leisurely taking in your features, his eyes trace the curl of your lashes, the slope of your nose, then the V of your cupid’s bow before he says, “A woman more deadly than the men who flank her is quite rare...and impressive.” Your brows pinch at the compliment and he smirks. “I think I might have use for you, Fremen girl.”

---

A/N(just a repeat of the notes up top in case you missed it): this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :)

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2

[itskattkm]

Multiverse

Based on a request: Could you do a fanfic where all of JOs characters meet and R has to explain they're all characters in movies and shows and how they're acted by R's gf, Jenna Ortega?

Characters would preferably be the following: Wednesday, Tara, Vada, Camila, Phoebe, Lorraine, Mabel, Ellie and Cairo (Even tho that movie isn't out yet)

If you don't want to use all the characters thats fine lol. I'm too lazy to write this myself.

JO Characters X Fem Reader

A/N: I’m so sorry that it took me so long. I wasn’t sure what end I wanted to choose. So I decided to not overthink to much and keep it short so the end is pretty shit haha. Hope you can still enjoy anon :)

————————

It’s been one of those rare summer days where the clouds were turning into a coal grey way and turning the whole light that fell onto the earth in a mix of yellow light and dark highlites. I saw just seconds ago a light struck in the corner of my eyes as I turned my head towards the window in the living room trying to say “there was a lightning it mus-“ and then there was it.

A growl. Something that sounded like a crisp crash high in the distance but still like it was happening right next to you. Thunder.

I chuckled to myself. Before I could end my own sentence the thunder had spoken for itself.

I walked towards the window. Watching rain falling down in an immense amount, feeling glad that I was in my apartment and didn’t had to walk through that wild mess.

“Rain... Rain is like a heavy mood. It is sad but it has a beautiful way of calming you down at the same time. Rain can make you cry but it can also make you calm"

I heard the familiar voice of my girlfriend. But kept watching the rain without turning around and smiled.

"You know... Rain can also be a bit spooky. Rain makes the shadows darker. Rain makes the dark even darker. Rain makes mystery even more mysterious."

I chuckled saying “wow that one turned a bit dark I guess…” I was turning around Expecting to see her soaked in the rain. Seeing already in front of my eyes how her bangs were probably all wet and sticking on her forehead. But when my eyes met hers, i was quite confused and a light laugh escaped me.

“Why do you look like Wednesday Addams?” I asked her. Walking a step towards her. It was almost like she became one with the shadows in the room. Wearing a big black coat. Covering what she was wearing under it. Her also black doc martens being pretty visible.

Her hair was darker then it was before she left to meet Enrique and prepare things for the upcoming met gala. I looked at her with a tilted head.

“I thought that people stopped asking stupid questions but here you are… another example for our current lost generation” she said monotone.

I looked even more confused feeling like there were tons of gears moving in my head and that she could see them “I’m confused…” I barely whispered.

“I often have that affect on people…”

She said and looked with an almost disgusted gaze at me. Scanning me from head to toe making me feel some kinda way uneasy. Even though I really loved the way Jenna played Wednesday Addams… that type of character was defiantly to much to handle. I found enough courage despise the mixed feelings I had and was about to say something when I recognized another figure beside me. My eyes landing on dark brown eyes, Emphasized with dark eyeliner wich Jenna rarely wore.

My mouth opened slight. Looking even more confused by now if this was possible.

My eyes scanning her figure within seconds. Seeing her wearing some short hot pants with a thin top and a congnac brown leather jacket. The fit feeling pretty familiar to me.

She was wearing eye makeup but the rest of her face was all clean. Wich made her freckles more present than usual. A smile with also slight confusion covered her face “wow you look pretty emo…” was what she said. But she didn’t said it to me.

“Some would consider I’m the definition of emo” said the one who looked like Wednesday.

I felt my heart running faster looking between the both of them.

“You see her too?” I asked Jenna beside me. But I wasn’t sure if it was actually Jenna.

“Yeah I do… by the way what’s your name?”

She answered giving me that big smile that showed her dimples and made me feel a bit flustered. That smile always had an effect on me.

But I was way to overwhelmed to actually tell her my name since there were two people that looked like Jenna so I asked

“Who are you?”

“Mabel…” she said and gave me a very knees weakening look, combined with that smile.

“Mabel… Wednesday…” I whispered looking between the both of you.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked more myself than both of them.

And right when the last few words left my mouth there was another person appearing in the living room. But the person seemed to be way to focused on my bookshelves.

All three of us watched the person.

She was wearing a white dress, showing her curves and long legs wich were wearing knee high brown boots. A tiny bag was hanging over her shoulders as her tiny but also gentle looking hands touched the backs of the books. Reading in silence the title names. Her hair was falling over her back in beautiful waves. The little light in the living room falling on it and showing a mixture of brown and red highlites.

“Y/N I don't think you have real books here... you have a Harry Potter book.. that's not a real book” She scrunches up her face “I'm sorry but it's the truth” She picks up a book and checks the title “Ugh... It's called a touch of darkness and it's about Persephone and Hades in a version of a Greek world in our time? *She shrugs it off*”

I felt a bit offended but also didn’t knew what to say.

Wednesday said “if you like Greek mythology you at least could’ve read the real tales. Like the ilias or oddysey” I nodded slightly ashamed and my gaze met Mabel’s she whispered “I only watched Percy Jackson once so don’t look at me for help…”

I took a deep breath and looked back at the woman beside my shelves. She had turned around by now and was lightning up a cigarette. I could see the amount of rings on her other hand and that cheeky but also dangerous smile on her dark bordo lips.

“Cairo Sweet?” I asked speechless.

“Wow well that’s a …unique name” said Mabel with a chuckled.

“I would say being called after a weekday is more unusual then being called as a well know city with history…” said Cairo and gave Wednesday a look.

My eyes widened feeling like Cairo was about to die.

“ I’m named after a nursery rhyme containing the line “Wednesday's child is full of woe.” The poem, which assigns personalities to children based on the day they were born, dates back to at least 1838. Cairo-Sweet. What kinda name is that, anyway? Sounds like the kind they'd use in a very bad written fanfiction” Wednesday glares at Cairo for daring to question the legitimacy of her name and gives her a dead stare.

I looked at both of them excited now and chuckled saying “as a writer you should have know that Cairo… you better not mess with Wednesday. She’s a writer and she could kill you if she wants”

Mabel beside me just whispered quite “okay this is getting very interesting here”

Wednesday and Cairo were throwing glares at each other when another person moved to my side and said “what kind of fever dream is that?”

I laughed and shaked my head looking at my right side to see another version of my girlfriend, wearing basketball shorts and an oversized shirt. I felt like nothing could surprise me anymore at this point so I smiled friendly and held my hand out saying “your Vada right? Nice to meet you I’m Y/N”

Vada smiled and shook my hand. I was explaining to her what was currently happening and introduced the others to her. Vadas hand rested on my shoulder now as she said “it’s like the most weirdest names I’ve ever seen…” an awkward smile appearing on her lips.

“You’re not surprised about the fact that you all look exact the same? Just different?”

Suddenly there was a Laugh “Yeah, there's a glitch in the system or something. It's just kind of...” said the 5.1 Latina beside me and shrugged. I looked speechless at Tara fucking Carpenter. Not sure if I was in a fan girl mode or going right into the simp mode.

“Tara Carpenter… holy shit” I whispered and looked at her stunned. Not sure how to process this all. She gave me a friendly smile and my head felt like exploding.

“She good?” Asked another version of Jenna’s Characters. Sitting on the armchair with her sunglasses and smoothie as she held a tiny book in her hands. Ellie from you I assumed.

My eyes kept jumping between all those people in my living room. Noticing even more of them.

“10 dollars she’s gonna pass out” said Wednesday cold as Cairo agreed and jumped in the bet. In my living room we’re around six characters that my girlfriend had played and it was way to hard to understand what the hell was going on.

No matter in what direction I looked. They were everywhere. Talking, arguing, connecting.

I took a deep breath and sat down on my couch. “What the hell is going on?” I asked louder and everyone became silent.

They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

“I have to admit this is weird… for real why do we all look like the same person?” Asked now Vada pointing out her hands at everyone.

Everyone looked around, till all gazes fell on me. Tara walked towards me saying “you seem to know every one of us… so you may enlighten us?” I nodded in an almost trance like mode and got up. Standing in the center while all of them were standing around me like in a circle.

“Okay… maybe this is some weird multiverse thing? A Paradoxon? Or I’m dreaming… dead… I don’t know but!” I said looked at all of you.

I shrugged my shoulders

“Well what can I say you all are movie characters…”

“ Y/N are you feeling alright? Or are the fumes from the glue factory getting to you?”Wednesday gives me a cold stare “Or do you need to sit down? Do you need a hit with the shovel so the bad thoughts go away?”

I looked at her serious saying

“What?! No! Listen…” I said and reached for my phone. I typed in Wednesday in Netflix and showed it to her and the others.

Cairo Looks at me with confusion “What a nerd, knowing all the facts about movie characters and who plays them. Like, who cares? I’ve got better things to do all day long than waste my time on silly little facts of the past, and I don’t even want to waste my time being in the same room as a loser like you!” She glares at me, showing clear signs of aggression.

“Okay you are defiantly meaner as you seem in your movie…” I said slight offended and looked over at Tara who was my fav character. Seeking for some comfort

She Shrugs “Oh don’t let her bother you, she’s... Anyways, did you guys want to talk about anything specific or are we going to all go to our separate corners and just stare at each other? I mean, that sounds kind of odd if I say it outloud...”

I laughed nervous “I would like to know why you guys even are here in the first place… this is against all rules. How is this even possible?”

“You’ll find a lot of things hard to explain away with logic, you know? Especially a certain someone who likes to hang out with a bunch of fictional characters” said Wednesday monotone and gave me another cold, intimidating stare “beside that you better stop trying to convince us that we are only movie characters. I’ll be good for you, if you drop the topic”

“Why? After all you all just appeared out of nowhere in my Apartment!..” I said a bit angry. Starting to feel like I was the bad one here suddenly.

Mabel looked around while playing with her moving her hands in the back of her pockets “So, what should we talk about then?” She asks awkwardly.

Vada was sitting in the corner and stares at the floor then says “I feel like the most... average one here....”

Tara Looks at Vada awkwardly “Don't say that... you're just as special as all of us. You're not average. Don't ever think that!”

“Yeah she’s right. You are special and we love you… what you’ve been through was awful” I said reassuring and hugged her. Since I knew what Vada had been through cause I watched the movie obviously, I had a soft spot for her.

“Uh... Thanks y/n......” She awkwardly hugged me back and blushed a little bit, looking down and covering her face. “How did you know?.....” She looked up at me a bit more, curious than before.

“Because you’re a movie character and I saw your story… that’s what I’m trying to explain to you guys” I sighed and looked at Tara.

“Tara you have a sister called Sam. You two had been survivors of a ghostface attack two times. You have several stab wounds in your abdomen and shoulder and on your hand as well. Sam ist the daughter of the origin Ghostface killer, Billy Loomies “ I explained “Your form the movie called Scream, your character was introduced in the fifth and sixth movie… my fav ones” I added with a shy smile.

Tara looked around impressed “How do you even know all these facts?” She whispered and realized that I knew all the names without even asking any one of you “It’s like, magic or something?” She asked.

I looked at Cairo and said “And your form one of the current movies my girlfriend made. It’s called millers girl. And yeah. I know what you did. Accusing your teacher for something he did not really do but I’m on your side tho. But it’s not cool to kiss and blackmail your best friend Winnie. Your dangerous Cairo. But I still feel mesmerized by you… somehow” I explained and shrugged.

Cairo rolled her Eyes “Wow, just wow. Who cares? I didn't ask for your input so keep it to yourself please and thank you” She turns her cigarette off and crosses her arms, giving me a pissed look.

“You are really mean... You seemed so nice at the beginning of your movie” i said almost disappointed. “Yeah well I turned out to be different and that's too bad for you” She continues to glare at me with aggressive eyes.

I sighed again and looked at Mabel.

“Mabel. You’re from the movie finestkind. You’re dating some fisher guy. It’s about crime and drugs. Your character is only a side character but you’re cool. Pretty bold and flirty. You had some spicy scenes respect for that…”

“Wow you really do know a lot-“ She was cut off by Wednesday, who started making an unimpressed sound.

I turned to her “And then the one and only Wednesday Addams. You are the currently new portrayed version of that character. You have your own tv show. You attend a dark Academy and solve crimes and murderes… second season will come out soon and by the way… people ship you pretty hard with Enid”

Wednesday looked me dead in the eyes “I do not appreciate your tone of delivery at all. I’m going to have to ask you to watch it a little, or else… that’s the nicest I can make” She gives me a scary look of disapproval and anger.

“Hey I didn’t wanted to be harsh or something… I’m just trying to telling you guys about the movies you all are from. I don’t know how you made it to my universe but you are all not real in this one…”

“Its your fault we're all here in the first place, so it’s best if you don’t go around with a mouth that likes to spill every detail about us that you possibly can, hmm?” Wednesday gave me a threatening look, daring me to break eye contact first.

I felt a bit hurt and said quite

“Sorry… but I really don’t how all of you came here” I looked around “You all just appeared suddenly” I said softly.

“it’s time for you to make us all disappear” Wednesday looked at me with cold, empty, soulless eyes.

“I don’t know how” exhausted I looked in the eyes of all of them.

“Look guys, let’s not make things too hard on her. She didn't even do anything, all of us just suddenly appeared and its not her fault! “ said Tara and stands up for me. I felt so relived when Tara stand up for me, making me fall for her even harder. Okay focus y/n Jenna is your girlfriend. But yeah… I also love all characters she plays… nevermind.

“I must say, you are very pretty y/n...” said randomly Mabel with a smile.

“Th-thank you” I said blushing hard and looked down.

Vadas eyes fell on me “Yeah, Tara’s right though. She didn’t have anything to do with why we’re here, did she?” Glances at Wednesday and Cairo, looking suspicious.

Cairo Shrugs “I’ve been trying to find out but so far I haven’t got a clue...” Her eyes narrow as she looks at her surroundings “We need to figure this out as soon as possible...”

„Well as soon as possible isn’t quick enough for me, I’m not going to sit around here forever just to wait this all out“ Wednesday added.

„You guys can do what ever you want.

I don’t know how all of you became real. Just know that in this universe none of you is supposed to be real“ I said and sat down on the couch exhausted

Wednesday Shrugs „Well we didn't do it on purpose. It's just something crazy I guess...

What if we never make our way back...“ She looks at everyone with a cold, intimidating stare. It’s clear she’s trying to hold her anger in check for the moment.

„Come on, don't even talk like that Wednesday... we'll find our way back, one way or another...“ Tara said.

„Yeah right? We're not stuck here with her forever!“ Cairo shudders at the thought.

„Ouch?“ I said not sure if I should feel offended.

„You should feel offended. We are going to find a way out of here and when we do, I am making sure I stay the hell away from you“ She glares at me again.

I gave Cairo a thumbs up and looked at Tara speechless saying

„I can’t believe I actually had a crush when I watched her movie back then“

Vada shrugged „Well I'm glad you changed your mind“

„Why? What kind of crush did you have on me?“ asked Cairo, not letting her anger die down yet.

„None“ I said trying to end the conversation. „Come on, you can tell me. Please?“ She leans forward with puppy eyes, but they look a little bit sinister.

„Just for the record since my girlfriend plays all your characters I do have a thing for all of you for sure“

„What do you mean your girlfriend plays all of us?“ Wednesday gives me a suspicious look, leaning in closer and giving a scary look again. „My girlfriend. The actress. Who portrays all your characters in this universe“

Mabel stares at me for a while. Her eyes narrow even more than before* What's her name?”

“I don’t buy it” Wednesday scoffed

“What's that supposed to mean, Wednesday?” I asked

“That was an act, you’re not just now realizing that y/n’s girlfriend is the one who plays all of us. I think she’s trying to hide something”

“I’m telling the truth you can google it” I said louder

Wednesday Takes me by the collar and glares at me with a cold, intimidating look “Okay then, Y/N. I want the truth and I want to know now. What’s your play here?”

Some part of me felt scared and turned on. It took me some time to answer. “I swear nothing. I was just enjoying my day off and suddenly all of you were here”

“And nothing at all happened before that?” Wednesdays voice was getting more and more sinister as each second passed.

“A storm came up. Thunder… lightning” I explained. “Hm... a storm...” She let go of my collar and turned her back on me. She began pacing around the room silently.

“Maybe it has to do with the storm then? Some Paradoxon?” I said

Wednesday looked st me “Is that really all you know? You have no other secrets you’re holding back?”

“Nothing. I’m the most boring person right here” I said quite

“Boring?” She looked back at me and smirked, and turned back around again “If you think your life isn’t interesting, then you’d better make your peace with this life being all you’ll ever be. You have no purpose here. You have nothing to contribute to this world” She stopped her pacing and turned back around again “This is it for you. This is all your life is worth” She let me take that in for a while before speaking again “So do not call yourself boring ever again. You hear me?”

I nodded feeling touched.

“Good” She sat down next to me, and put her hand on my shoulder. After a while of silence, she finally broke the tension “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have done that” She looked down at her feet, ashamed.

“Thank you… i really appreciate your apology” I whispered feeling better now.

“Okay since we all don’t know why you’re here and I’m tired of explaining and arguing… Wanne watch a movie together?”

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell #wednesday #fanfiction #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #mabel finestkind #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #jenna ortega x you

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A chance encounter

Words: 1,732 [also on AO3]

Rated: E

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Record label owner Eddie; Waiter Steve; Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington; Blood and violence; Prostitution (implied); Attempted non-con; Homophobic language; Steve Harrington whump; Eddie Munson whump; Protective Eddie Munson; Protective Steve Harrington

Notes: Happy birthday, @house-of-the-moving-image! I hope you have the most wonderful of days. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend and partner in crime. Hope you enjoy your extra long chunk of Upside Diner, even though it turned out quite gritty for a birthday fic. 😅💕🛼

Eddie grumbles under his breath as he locks the office door and steps out into the dark street. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves his job. Hellfire Records is his baby. Making music, working with all sorts of different artists and bands, helping them make a name for themselves - it’s everything he ever wanted and never thought he could have growing up in the smalltown hell of Hawkins, Indiana. 

What he doesn’t love is the meetings and the paperwork and the phone calls, especially on days like this, when it all drags on until well into the night. 

The echoes of his boots bounce off the empty streets as he makes his way towards the little diner at the corner. Checking his wristwatch, he swears again. Fuck, it’s even later than he thought. What if Steve’s shift is already over? The thought makes his stomach clench with an unpleasant feeling that distinctly feels like disappointment. The realization makes him pause and furrow his brow. 

Maybe it’s a little bit pathetic, how quickly his visits to the diner have become the highlight of his day. Maybe it’s a little bit weird that he hasn’t had dinner anywhere else in literal weeks. Maybe it’s a little bit creepy, this obsession with a boy he knew fleetingly in highschool. An obsession that makes him come by every single day after work, without fail, just to chew on soggy fries and greasy burgers and watch said boy waiting tables, gliding around like an angel in chunky roller skates and stupidly short shorts. 

Maybe he has a problem. 

And maybe he doesn’t care. 

Because for all his initial reluctance and bite, Steve has actually started coming around. Has been accepting Eddie’s money and attempts at conversation with barely a complaint. Has even stopped asking why Eddie keeps ordering way too much food for one person alone, taking the leftovers behind his counter to munch on. Hell, last week when Eddie came in, he even looked up from the order he was taking and flashed him a wave and smile. Eddie rode that high all night and well into the next day. 

It’s the memory of that smile that makes him pick up his steps. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll catch Steve at the tail end of his shift and convince him to stay around for a little longer. 

The diner is empty, except for a lone person in uniform wiping down tables behind the neon-lit window pane. It isn’t Steve. Eddie spares one glance at the bored-looking girl and turns away with an annoyed groan. That’s it, he thinks, pulling his headphones from his pocket and slamming them on with a little more force than strictly necessary. Tonight officially sucks. Time to go home and fix himself some SpaghettiOs, turn on a late night show and fall asleep in front of the- 

For the rest of his life, he’ll thank fate for making him fumble with his discman. Because if he’d hit the play button a second earlier, he would never have heard the voices. But this way, he does, and this way, he halts his steps, peering into the narrow side alley with a wrinkled brow. The light of the streetlamps only reaches so far, and everything he can see are the dumpsters and old cardboard boxes at its entrance. Beyond them, everything is dark. 

“Dude, get your hands off me, I said no.” 

Steve.

Eddie is halfway around the dumpsters before he even knows it, heart beating in his ribcage like a jackhammer. The alley reeks of piss and rotting garbage. At its far end, almost hidden behind another dumpster, are two figures. Eddie can’t make out their faces, but he also doesn’t need to. The colorful uniform is unmistakable, even in the murky half-light, even though it’s paired with a pair of sneakers rather than roller skates. And besides, he’d know that ridiculously floofy hairdo anywhere. 

He doesn’t know the other man. Only knows that the guy's hands are grabbing Steve’s arms and shoulders hard enough to leave marks as he attempts to wrestle him to his knees. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” the man hisses just as Eddie rounds the dumpster. “I’ll make it quick.” 

“Are you deaf or stupid?” Steve sneers, trying to struggle out of his hold. “I said get your fucking hands off me.” 

The man slaps him across the face. Steve makes a pained noise and loses his balance, going down on his knees on the dirty ground. 

The man laughs, curt and mean.

“There you go,” he coos. One of his hands grabs a fist full of chestnut hair while the other reaches for the half-undone fly of his pants. “Now be a good little slut and-” 

The force of the impact sends the discman tumbling from Eddie’s pocket. It shatters on the ground somewhere, parts flying in all directions, but he doesn’t have eyes for it. Instead, he grabs the asshole by the lapels of his cheap suit and hauls him against the nearest wall. The back of the asshole’s head hits the bricks, and Eddie thinks he hears something crack. Good. 

“Eddie?” 

While the man sags against the wall, groaning and cradling his head, Eddie whirls on Steve. Steve, who's just swaying to his feet, eyes wide and shocked. His cheek is flushed and starting to bruise. 

“Shit,” Eddie swears. “Are you-” 

Pain explodes inside his skull, sudden and all consuming. He stumbles, trying to keep his footing and cracks his head on the hard metal edge of the dumpster in the process. He manages to blink the stars from his vision just in time to see the man's fist flying at him. The blow makes his ears ring and copper flood his mouth, and when he regains his senses, he's on the ground with two hands closing around his throat. 

“Thought you'd play the hero, huh?” The man's grin is a manic grimace. A glob of spit hits Eddie’s cheek. “Well, how'd that work out for you, you stupid little-” 

“Hey, shitface!” 

The man snarls and turns. Eddie doesn’t see what happens, just knows that something goes crunch and suddenly the hands pressing down on his windpipe are gone. The man's voice turns into a high-pitched wail of pain. 

Eddie rolls around, coughing and gasping for air, and props himself up on his elbows. The man has shrunk against the next wall, clutching at his face. Crimson blood is bubbling out from between his fingers, hitting the alley floor in a steady pattern of drips. 

“Fuck off,” Steve says and lowers the hand holding the roller skate. His voice is deadly calm, his face steely. “Remember to put away your dick first.” 

The guy stares at him. Steve raises the roller skate again, just a little. The asshole whimpers and scrambles upright, mumbling something to himself. Eddie thinks he catches something about fucking lunatic fags, but he can't be sure, what with the way his voice comes out all wet and garbled. And then he's gone, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

Steve drops the roller skate. 

“Fuck,” be whispers, crouching down next to Eddie and brushing hesitant fingers over his split lip. Ten minutes ago, Eddie would’ve given anything to feel those hands on his face, but now he winces and recoils at the sting of pain. 

Steve retracts his hand, flopping down on the ground with a heavy sigh. The shorts ride up with the movement, exposing strong, muscled thighs. His knees are scraped from hitting the asphalt, little droplets of blood beading on the torn skin. 

“What’d you go and do that for?” Steve asks, scrubbing a hand down his face. All of the steel is gone from his voice. He sounds tired instead, infinitely tired. “I had it under control.” 

Eddie can’t help it, he barks a laugh. “Oh, did you, big boy? When was that, exactly? When he backhanded you? Or when he had you by the hair and was about to shove his cock down your-”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who got punched and choked half to death!” Steve snaps. 

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. The boy has a point, sort of. He doesn’t need a mirror to tell which one of them is looking the worse for wear right now, not with the white-hot pain still throbbing through his face with every heartbeat. 

“He didn’t choke me half to death,” he mutters lamely. Steve huffs a humorless laugh. 

“Thanks, anyway,” he then says. It comes out so quietly that Eddie nearly misses it, and when he looks up, Steve has averted his eyes. Eddie has an acute flashback to their first meeting at the diner, when Steve reluctantly accepted his tip money. “Could’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t shown up.” 

Eddie feels his mouth tug into a grin, even though his lip stings like an entire beehive. 

“Anytime, Stevie. Now c’mon, let’s get outtaaaaah, shit.” 

Trying to stand is a bad idea. The moment he’s upright, another firework of pain goes off behind his temples and the ground tilts out from under him. The only thing that saves him from going right down again is Steve jumping to his feet and looping one of Eddie’s arms around his shoulders. 

“Shit, he got you good,” he mutters. Eddie can only hum in agreement, too preoccupied with keeping the meager contents of his stomach down. “We should probably get you somewhere with a first aid kit at least.” 

“‘s okay,” Eddie slurs, inadvertently leaning closer into Steve’s warmth. He smells of shampoo and frying fat and blood. “I’ll be fine, I live nearby.” 

Steve’s eyes flit over his face, then off to the side, then back to his face again. He licks his lips and even in his dazed state, Eddie can clearly see how he wars with himself. Finally, he gulps and straightens his spine. 

“Okay,” he says, adjusting Eddie’s weight on his shoulders. “Let’s go then.” 

It’s weird, Eddie thinks as they start to hobble their way down the dark street. He must’ve fantasized a thousand times about taking Steve Harrington home, but never once did he think it’d play out like this. Then again, things in his life rarely go as he imagines, so he supposes he’s just gonna roll with it.

Tag list: @grtwdsmwhr @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon

@steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #Upside Diner AU

[balkanradfem]

Okay so, a long while ago I had written about noticing a woman who moved into the building, who had short hair and got my attention immediately (she was insanely hot). I creepily looked at her trough the window at one point and felt bad about it, but I didn't know how to approach her without being super obvious (I lose my wits when I talk to women).

Since then I had met her in the hallways multiple times, and she's always seemed super happy to talk to me! Even grinned when she saw me, and at moments seemed as flustered as me while we were talking. I found out she lives on the floor above me, has a very young son she takes care of on her own, and works the night shift, meaning she's super busy and barely sleeps. I once saw her in the evening waiting for a ride and wished her good luck at work and she went 'you too!' and then realized I'm coming home and added 'tomorrow!' which I thought was adorable (it was Saturday).

Anyway I still have not sussed out if she is interested in women at all, I can't figure it out because I have no sense for these things and had only assumed maybe, because of the haircut, but she has a son, so she could be bisexual. Those are things I'm thinking in my brain, but a heterosexual woman can have a buzzcut too? Right? I could be completely off and just dazzled by her appearance and by how nice she is.

However this morning I had a longer conversation with her, I was getting home from slug patrol, and she was coming home from work. I held the door opened for her and she paused to chat with me in the hallway. We were talking about work and the building and at one point, unprompted, she touched my hand, then commented on how cold it was, and then touched it more, and I'm like, I don't know what's going on, that doesn't usually happen to me. A minute later she decided I needed a hug and hugged me, and I was mortified because I just came home from the garden in my filthy clothing so I panicked and apologized for my awful getup, but she was like 'so what?'.

So now I'm even more in my lesbian brain trying to figure it out, would a heterosexual do this, do women do this randomly, could it be because she has a child and I also look like a little wet child to her (she's 9 years older than me) so I just looked pathetic enough??? I also told her, with my brain non-functional, about 10 times that I find her really nice and that I love her haircut and that she's so kind and how wonderful it was of her to stop and chat with me even though she's so busy and I don't know if I should have said any of that??? I had the urge to invite her over and make her breakfast but felt it would be too forward to ask her to come to my apartment and it would make me creepy, and also I don't know what to do, I would like to befriend her but whenever I do talk to her I am useless.

#lesbian #bisexual #a situation #story

[predestinatos]

“I Know” — CL16 + MV1

chapter 1 chapter 2

summary: the game doesn't stop once you leave the court OR part 2 of my challengers fic.

word count: 2.5k

tags: charles leclerc x fem! reader x max verstappen, smut, angst, fluff, everything really, complex relationship, implied cheating but also not how you expect it. MINORS DNI - WARNINGS UNDERNEATH

note: i have been loving writing this and exploring these characters and their dynamics. this chapter is shorter BUT that's because charles won in monaco and i felt like this would be a good celebration :) i hope u all enjoy it lovelies!

warnings: fingering (fem!receiving), dirty talking (a lot)

12:55AM

"Actually, I came here to tell you to lose" you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively as the man looked down at you.

"Did you, now?" he asked, a finger raising your chin up towards him. Another joke, another teasing moment you couldn't run away from, couldn't resist despite your attempts at doing so.

He saw you merely nod. Part of him exhaled a short laugh, but another looked away from you. He was better than this. Better yet, you were better than this, much better. He also knew you were looking at him precisely how he wanted you to, a pleading in your eyes to succumb to the inevitable – but also a pleading to move away, to delay that inevitably for as long as possible.

He knew if he looked down again it would be over. You bit your lip as you stared at his tight jaw, at hints of a growing stubble across his face, at how everything about his body seemed to be a fight against itself.

"Charles" you called, unsure if he had heard it. He couldn't bear hearing your voice calling his name, and the stark, sudden change from his confident attitude to this restrained one was visible as he closed his eyes and swallowed dryly. "Hm?" was all he could reply. Was all he could bear to mutter without giving away the turmoil of his own mind.

"You're in the way."

YEARS EARLIER.

Max's hand was on your inner thigh and fighting against his mind to go much higher than that. You noticed the mole on his upper lip as he spoke, mostly because you tried to focus on his face more than his touch, afraid of letting it consume you.

"Did it actually matter? The winner?" he asked you. He pondered this many times after the match, head going back and forth between answers.

"It did to you both" you answered. He wasn't expecting it, really, yet he understood what you meant completely. Something about his relationship with Charles changed, and contrary to what was expected, it did so for the better.

"He thinks he knows what he wants" Max heard himself say, eyes locked on yours. He dared his hand to move upwards, just slightly, as if you wouldn't notice. As if his touch didn't make itself feel across your entire body.

"And what is that?" his face was so close to yours you were dizzy from holding back, dizzy by the sheer need you had to taste him again.

"Winning."

You raised an eyebrow at his answer, so bold yet calculated, hinting at something else, something more.

Both of you seemed aware of how talking about the other man ignited even more desire in you, excited you even more than it probably should.

"But he forgets why he wants it, what he truly wants. I never did." he continued, brushing your hair away from your neck in order to gain better access to it.

It was too much for you - how he seemed to know the right thing to do to send you just over the edge, to drive you to the limits of madness as your body yearned for him.

You took a deep breath, "Hm and what is it, Max?" he left sloppy, wet kisses along your neck now, as he realized he had won, pulling away only to smirk triumphantly, to admire his victory, looking at him almost completely disheveled already.

"You" his hand was as far up as it could now, leaving you completely vulnerable to how much he affected you. "So wet... And for who?" his question was a dare, a test of your honesty as his fingers brushed your clit. You could deny it, sure, but he knew the truth.

"For you" you said; an answer that was rewarded with a finger dipping slowly inside you, every inch of it felt as Max pushed inside you. He had to fight himself hard as he felt you tighten against his finger. Had to fight the urge to consume you fully right there and then because most of all he wanted to win.

"Why for me?" he asked, regaining control or convincing himself of it, another finger entering you and feeling how nicely you accomodated for him and him only. He was hard, his body craved the feeling of you around him, your wetness and heavy breath driving him to insanity and yet... and yet he let it hurt a bit. For he knew the long term pleasure would be bigger.

"Because you won" you answered, succumbing to him as his fingers curled inside you.

2:45PM

Cameras flashed in your direction inside the bustling studio. For brief minutes, your mind was focused on nothing but your own body and the camera, movements flowing through you and evoking new poses as you modeled.

It was good; to be distracted from Max, his tournament and the stress added to it. Too good to be true as you looked past the lights and photographers to a figure standing behind them, one that you were all too familiar with.

And now you were distracted once again, the double negatives not making positive. He was fit - tennis was doing him good, just as it was Max. His shoulders were broad and biceps more prominent in his polo shirt which hugged him tightly. He could only be mocking you. His awareness of how the timing conditioned every interaction between you and him couldn't go unnoticed - provocation written across his face as he admired you.

"Can we take 5?" you heard yourself say, unable to focus now that his presence haunted every picture like a ghost.

Charles watched as you got closer to him, wondering when exactly did he let you stray so further away from him, taking Max alongside you. He was a dick, really. His attitude was never the most humble or polite, not like his (now ex) best friend, who seemed to be more composed even in his nervousness.

Charles composed nature was more arrogant and overconfident, despite concealing little to nothing about his actual feelings. He wasn't familiar with insecurity the way Max was, so he never learned how to fake it that well.

You stopped in front of him, holding a cup filled with fruit as hunger crept up inside you now that you weren't focused on work.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you asked, a loud whisper, a soft yell that made Charles wonder how that could even be possible. It clicked, then. Max could yell silently. He couldn't. But it wasn't sad to notice this, it actually amused him, the irony of him being the odd one out but also the inescapable one, the one unpredictable factor in both of your lives.

"Hello to you too, sweetheart" he replied, taking a grape from your cup and popping it into him mouth as he smiled. His boasting attitude made you roll your eyes. It took all the restraint in the world not to snap back at him.

He liked that about you. How your eyebrows furrowed, how your mouth turned into a slight frown of annoyance. How easy it was to get under your skin. How he knew that you loved it.

"Just came to say hi and wish you two luck for later" he continued, not wanting to part ways from you just yet, knowing he hadn't pushed all of your buttons yet.

"Max doesn't need your good luck" you replied. You noticed how you were always more defensive of him, sometimes almost mothering him.

Charles' cool toned eyes looked down at you as he bit his lip. He got you, now. He knew that. "But you do."

"I don't need anything from you" the cup was now becoming humid in your hands, threatening to slip as you tightened your grip on it.

"Are you sure?" his question was risky. Maybe too risky. He wasn't careful, evoking ghosts of Christmas Past into the conversation; things you had agreed to act like they didn't happen because pride spoke louder than lust in the list of sins.

You turned around now, tired of listening to him, irritated at the image he had brought to the table of your minds. Your body on his, his hands gripping your hair tightly as your legs wrapped around his waist.

"I'm not you side piece" he said. No, he chanted, teasingly, daringly. And as he saw you stopping in your tracks he knew he had hit a nerve, got you precisely where he wanted yoi.

"The only piece you are is a piece of shit"

YEARS EARLIER.

If Charles focused hard enough - really, really hard - maybe he could fight his own body against reacting as hard as it was to Max's secrecy regarding what happened between you two.

"You know, I don't kiss and tell" he said, hands behind his head as he layed down in his bed. They shared a room - they always did, it was natural, something they did so often they didn't even think about it anymore, like breathing or riding a bike,

"You're such an asshole, I'd never do this to you" Charles replied, fake annoyance in his tone as he threw his pillow at his friend's face.

"I may be. But I'm the asshole who won" the pillow flew to its initial place once again, hitting Charles' bed and then the floor, almost in a defeated position itself.

Charles knew something had had happened, mainly because he thought about it so much he knew he had made the thought into a reality. Maybe he was going insane, looking at Max and imagining you under him, your bodies intertwined and faces filled with pleasure. He wondered if it was jealousy or lust that filled him - if there even was a difference. And if it was jealous, who or what was he jealous of?

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to focus. He was upset because he lost. It didn't matter what, he would always be upset over losing; yet this time it pained him more. He had lost to both of you, lost to himself by being left out of something he so desperately wanted.

"I'll beat you someday" Charles said, trying to keep up the joyful mood.

"Will it matter then?" Max asked. It was an innocent question, yet it was also a test: to his own rationality, to Charles' emotions and to where they stood in their friendship.

They locked eyes with each other and for a second the room was so quiet it might've been paused by someone's remote, the silence engulfing them both like a wave.

But as soon as it came, it disappeared. And Charles shrugged, picked up his pillow from the carpeted hotel floor and replied "I think it will to her"

Max allowed himself to close his eyes for a second, wondering if he should speak or not. He laughed at his own twisted thoughts, questioning his own morality as he felt his blood pumping through his veins.

"You know this just makes it hotter for me, right?" he asked his friend in the bed only a bedside table away frim him. "You wanting my girlfriend, all intense and shit."

Charles knew this. He was fighting similar feelings, knowing part of your allure also lied in their own desire for you.

What they didn't know is that you shared these thoughts, your attraction towards both of these men relying not only on their own selves but on their fight for you and each other.

11:00PM

You fidgeted with your wedding ring, looking at the way it adorned your long fingers. You looked at his hand then, both so different from each other.

You were a good wife, weren't you? You supported Max, you listened to him and you made him laugh. You cared about him more than anything else, though that was harder to admit.

Aren't people allowed to have flaws? Wasn't Charles his flaw as well? Wasn't he on the back of both of your minds, wasn't he just another reason why you loved each other so much?

"He went to my workplace today" you said as his head rested on your lap, smooth skin caressing his face. His body stiffened, yet it didn't seem like nervousness was the emotion affecting him.

"I think he's nervous." You continued, knowing his silence was a code for you to keep going.

He chuckled at your words. "About playing against me or you watching him?"

"I think it's more about you watching him than anything." More silence followed. He didn't want to argue with you, not when your touch felt so comforting and your words melted into his ears. "He likes you"

"He respects me" This time he retorted, his hand holding your arm as if in an attempt to wake you up from whatever sleep you were in.

"Same difference" you shrugged.

"For you, it is."

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr #f1 fandom #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut

[leandra-winchester]

On Oliver's social media behavior regarding Bucktommy vs. Buddie

Kind of in line with many of the good points raised by @bbbuckaroo in this ask response, but I wanted to make my own post about it.

I, too, have seen posts that prompted this ask - from more well-meaning people remarking that Oliver could/should maybe say something against the toxic Buddie shippers and promote Bucktommy more, to more critical voices saying he's essentially ship-baiting with Buddie because he keeps posting about them.

As the referenced post says, Oliver "knows how important and pivotal the Buddie FRIENDSHIP is".

So let's look at that from Oliver's (and in connection also Ryan's) point of view for a moment here.

You're an actor who's been playing one half of what is one of the most integral relationships on a very successful show. That relationship has textually always been a friendship, but with elements that make it richer and deeper than most regular friendships; it's a sort of family dynamic.

It could be read as having a potential for romance, and you're open to that, should the writers ever decide that's the direction they want to take it. You have said so multiple times, not just to appease a large group of fans, but because you genuinely mean it. You're open to it, but you don't know if it's ever going to happen, nor do you have any power over it.

You do love the way fans are celebrating this relationship though - whether they highlight the canonical platonic aspects or take it a step further. You "love the love" (as Ryan has put it). It's great, it's heartwarming, it's moving because the potential of that romance and your character figuring out he's bisexual means so much to queer fans who are looking for good queer representation (which your show already has, but there could always be a bit more, right?). You see and want to acknowledge all the creativity people pour into it.

But you're careful after a while, because, so far, that relationship has only textually been platonic, and some fans are accusing both the writers and you of queerbaiting.

So you take a step back, do less social media for a while. You don't want them to think you're confirming anything just because you see value in certain fictional interpretations of the text.

But then you are told that your character is supposed to come out as bisexual; he'll have a romance with a background character they're bringing back for a couple of episodes. While that's not exactly the relationship many of the fans hoped to get, it's still amazing. It's the right representation of bisexual characters that is very rarely done right, and it'll confirm that they always read your character correctly as bisexual. It'll be so validating to the fans to know they didn't misinterpret that, and you're very happy about that.

But you still love the family-like, platonic relationship you've built with the other character for 5 whole seasons before this. And you love the relationship your character has with his son, too. (In a way, Buck is to Christopher what Bobby is to Buck - a father figure).

You want to keep celebrating that because your new romantic relationship doesn't replace the year-long friendship with Eddie. You want to show fans that 'hey, even though this isn't exactly what you hoped for, it's still great; it's important. Eddie and Chris are still and always will be a huge part of Buck's life. Don't worry. Buck will not abandon them. I still see you and acknowledge you, but let's focus on the textual friendship and platonic love here. Which is also very, very important, and very dear to me personally."

And there isn't that much to share about a romantic relationship that's just begun yet anyway, especially with the season being so short and packed with multiple story arcs around the main characters. It's all still at the start, and while it's great, exciting and has the potential to become something lasting, nothing's set in stone yet. You probably also don't want to have people get their hopes up that Bucktommy is 'confirmed' as endgame; and you don't want to put a main character who has his own, very complex story arc going on this season on the backburner.

You've obviously 'done it wrong'. But no matter how else you could have done it, it would have been wrong as well. You probably know this by now, because no matter what you did in the past, there were always people who interpreted your actions and words in bad faith to confirm their own agenda.

So what the hell are you supposed to do other than what feels good to you while applying a little bit of caution?

---

Oliver CANNOT get it right. It's simply impossible. If he didn't post at all, some fans would be mad that he doesn't say anything. If he only or primarily promoted Bucktommy, they'd be mad that he ignores Eddie and Chris entirely. If he only promoted Buddie (platonic) and Chris, they'd be mad that he's ship baiting. And if he goes for the balance of putting his character's 6-year history with Eddie+Chris and the newly developing romance with Tommy in perspective, i.e. what he's doing right now, they're still mad.

In any potential scenario, the loud and obnoxiously entitled portion of the fandom would find a reason to criticize. It really does not matter what he does.

So, where does that leave us? Personally, I'd say leave the man alone. Let him post and say what he feels is best, and don't try to look at it under any 'bad faith' lens. He's probably given it sufficient thought and does what he thinks is best and feels right.

#Oliver Stark #bucktommy #buddie #yes I'm tagging it as that because it's about that ship too #buddie but platonic #platonic buddie #fandom discourse #911 discourse #911 #this post isn't anti buddie #and I believe Oliver isn't anti buddie either #it's ONE interpretation of the show #but it's fanon as of now #and imho indefinitely #luckily there are many buddie shippers who get that #but the obnoxious ones are sadly the loudest #as always

[skyward-floored]

Since you're still doing requests, I would like to ask for more Hyrule and/or Four. Maybe Four could help him with his homework or something?

Here is more Hyrule and Four (and some Legend too). Hope you enjoy! And thanks for the patience XD

————————————————————

“...And then a monster rose up from the water, with lots of ten... tenti... ten... tenicles..? ...Legend?”

“Tentacles.”

“Right, tentacles. Ten-ta-cles, that tried to grab the hero. But with one swing of his sword, the hero sliced... is that how you say it?”

“It’s an ‘eye’ sound actually, but you were close.”

“Oh. So... the hero sliced the ten-ta-cles away, and the monster couldn’t catch him, no matter how hard he tried. A long battle en... ensued, all while the waves roared, and rain poun-ded on the ship. But the hero rid the beast of all his tentacles, and it fell into the sea with a dying roar. The hero had slain the monster, and... finally earned the treasure hidden in the ship.”

Hyrule closed the book with a proud look on his face, having reached the end of the chapter, and Legend grinned over at him from his spot on the floor.

“Nice job Roolie, you barely stopped,” he complimented, and the tip of Hyrule’s ears turned pink.

“I’ve been practicing,” he said shyly, and set the book he’d been reading from on the table. “Thanks for helping, Legend.”

“No problem.”

Hyrule smiled again, and flopped back on his bed, a warm feeling in his middle. He was getting really good at reading— he’d practically caught up to Wild’s level, and kept making progress, especially with Legend’s help. Soon enough he’d be able to read books without needing anyone to help with the big words.

It felt... nice. To learn.

The bedroom door creaked, and Hyrule and Legend looked up, their littlest brother padding in with a blanket trailing behind him.

“Four? I thought you were supposed to be napping,” Legend scolded, and Four blinked, then walked by without sparing him a glance. “Ugh. Moooommm, Four escaped his nap again,” Legend called, getting to his feet and walking out into the hallway.

He continued to talk as he walked away, voice fading down the hallway, and Hyrule peered over at Four, the younger boy watching him in silence.

Hyrule swallowed at his intense gaze. He didn’t really have a lot of experience with little kids like Four, and was still getting used to the whole little brother thing.

Four was nice of course, but he was also kind of... strange. He didn’t talk much, but when he did he was weirdly well-spoken for a four-year-old, and Hyrule often found him sitting in odd places with an ear pressed to the wall. Between that and adjusting to just having younger siblings in general, Hyrule honestly didn’t know how to interact with him most of the time.

And now he was staring. At him.

Four, oblivious of Hyrule’s thoughts, stared at him another few moments, then went over to his bed and tried to climb up onto it. His legs were too short though, and he frowned, trying to claw his way up the blanket Malon had made for Hyrule.

“Hey, hey careful!” Hyrule said, and Four stopped and looked at him, tilting his head.

“Sorry,” Four said. He looked at the bed, then blinked at Hyrule hopefully. “Can you help?”

Hyrule blinked back, then after a moment’s hesitation, slowly leaned over and picked Four up. He gingerly set him on the bed, and Four smiled as he sat down, stretching out his legs and wiggling his toes.

“Thank you,” Four said, hugging his blanket to his chest.

Hyrule nodded, settling back down in his spot, and watched him in confusion as he sat there, looking idly at the patterns on Hyrule’s blanket.

“Um... Four, I thought you were supposed to be in your bed napping?” Hyrule said hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what to do here.

Four frowned, and turned his head away to look at the wall. He didn’t say anything for a minute, then suddenly flopped backwards, his head landing on Hyrule’s lap and making him jump.

Hyrule looked down at him, and Four looked up, a sad expression forming on his face.

“...I got lonely,” he said quietly.

“Oh.”

Hyrule could relate to that. He’d spent most of his life feeling lonely.

Four curled up more with his head still in Hyrule’s lap, and Hyrule gave it a hesitant pat, Four snuggling up to him. His little brother was a ball of heat, and Hyrule began to relax as Four’s eyes drooped, running another hand over his head.

“Well... you can stay here I guess,” Hyrule said quietly, and Four smiled as he closed his eyes. “So long as Mom says it’s okay. Then you won’t be lonely.”

“Thank you Roolie,” Four whispered, and Hyrule felt a weird lurch of warmth in his stomach at the words.

He grabbed the blanket and set it more over Four as his little brother began to drift off, and Hyrule leaned back, watching as Four quickly fell asleep.

He supposed he would sit here and read for a while longer.

Legend came stomping back into the room a few minutes later, and Hyrule frantically shushed him when he opened his mouth, gesturing to the sleeping kid on his lap.

“...oh. Well I guess napping there is as good as anywhere else,” Legend said with shrug. “Good job finding him Hyrule.”

Hyrule nodded, and Legend left again to tell their mom he’d found where Four went off to. He paused before he left the room though, and looked back at Four and Hyrule, the latter smiling hesitantly at the kid in his lap.

Legend smiled himself, then quietly shut the door behind him.

#i haven’t written them younger like this in a bit so this was fun #little four <3 #Incredibles au #Incredibles au fic #linkeduniverse #lu hyrule #lu four #fic #answers from the floor #lovely gryphonlover #writing from the floor

[pignipplez]

GERARD WAY DIED IN MY DREAM ☹️💔

I was dozing off cuz I’m eepy and in the 2 second span of my slumber a hole story formed into my thick skull 🥲🥲🥲🥲

I woke up in my dream and I checked my social medias and shit and everyone was panicking so I checked to see what was wrong and it said GERARD WAS DEAD 😭 He died from like a drug overdose or something their like dead thing memorial pictures or whatever looked like a one piece wanted poster idk it was weird.

So then I was randomly invited to the funeral of Mr Way and it was an open casket so I walked up to them it was in the Helena church and Gerard had black little ballet shoes on and his blue dress they wore that one time (forgot when 🤔)

But yeah I was still in shock and the rest of the band was there right and Ray was holding onto the group like the little mama bear he his and was silently crying he was also eating a subway sandwich. Mikey then turned to me and he was wearing the sluttiest shit ever like blud was smokin in that drip. But anyways he flipped his hair at me and said.

“Follow the new Mr Way”

Now I’m following him also Frank has looked like a lost dog this whole entire time just so ya know he was there if you were worried 😜 but yeah Mikey takes me into this weird white room dungeon thing it opened from the ground like in front of the casket in the music video.

So Mikey is now gone Me, Ray, and Frank are now alone in the spooky Edgar Allan Poe short story the pit and the pendulum type shit. So the big hole in front of us arises the dude from The black parade music video. His eyes are rolled back and his mouth is snapped open like that one girl from stranger things.

The dude starts to speak he starts screaming like Tweek from South Park. Then mini Mikey climbs out of the dudes gaped jaw with his onion hair and a long curly stash.

My vision zooms up to his lips and he says, “Gerard’s death has given me inspiration for an incredible album” “We should call it GG” “It-

He gets cut off tho cuz disco music and lights flood the room then he starts to do the dancing blabazar brat does in despicable me 3.

Everything cuts off though like a film camera and it’s Ray gripping onto the camera he’s sweating and frantic franks also there doing a ballerina spin over and over agian in the background without stopping. Like just rotating. Also Ray now kinda looks like Larry from Sally Face like all icky and detailed also I’m talking about him specifically dead like Cult Larry.

Ray shouts gibberish into the camera but finally the static gets through as “I Did it *my real name* I killed Gee,” “He said that I wasn’t the real alpha I had to I HAD TOO,”

“This is all real alpha *my real name* I don’t take steroids,” “IM STIGMA LOOK AT M-“

Then it cut off and it Glitched back to when I woke up and found out that Gerard was dead and the wanted poster and everything but this time I turned to Ray then and there and he sobbing holding a “We need a bartender” card and a beer bottle while sadly looking at me. (Like those pictures of him 😈)

Then I was like This can’t be real it can’t be he isn’t then I awoked 😋

I think I’m going insane 😍

An Invader Zim character was in there somewhere just not sure where 🤧

Also Gerard tried to crawl out of the casket at the funeral but Frank beat him back in with an acoustic guitar but for some weird reason my mind didn’t register that at all so I just forgot but remembered it happened

Dreams are confusing 😭

#mcr #gerard way #ray toro #mikey way #frank iero #lore #brain rot #my dreams are horrific #help 😢 #i am not mentally well #I also am not rereading this so it could not make sense at all but ur just gonna have to live with that 😮‍💨

[britcision]

I NEED Ryoko Kui to give me some kind of work schedule for the Canaries

I know they’re not important but I NEED to understand what the fuck is going on

Fleki has enough free time to get high (not large requirement)

Otta apparently has enough free time and access to civilians to date??? (Higher time requirement)

Milsiril is KNOWN for adopting babies from short lived races, but she Was Not Retired Until She Got Kabru (HUGE time requirement)

So either Kabru was the first (she’s not had him all that long, 16 years is real fast for an elf to get a rep AND the criminals who knew her before she acquired Kabru talk about it like this is just a known thing - which is all the Canary criminals, only Helki keeps socialising with the Canaries after they retire, Milsiril explicitly does not go with them in Rin’s comic)

Or she was adopting kids in between missions? Did she bring them home after a dungeon, or was there enough downtime to locate and adopt kids?

Cuz sure, she likely wasn’t personally seeing to their every need to the same extent she was after retiring, but you’ve still gotta find an applicable kid, and surely she’d want to spend time with them, or she could just divert some family funds to an orphanage; her home away from the city post retirement woulda worked

So how often did she see them? How long was her leave, did it get longer as she got promoted? Some recovery time between missions makes sense, it’s a physically demanding job, but was it an elf’s short break (years) or ours (weeks/months)?

(How many kids did she have while she had Kabru?? She said she had too many so she couldn’t take Rin, how many is that??)

The elves don’t know what “hurry” looks like and consider 2-3 years getting back to you soon but also they were so desperate for people after Utaya that a fucking DUNGEON LORD was immediately elevated to captain and given a squad as soon as he was fit to fight

(Do they now have less time between missions? Trying to use less squads to cover the same ground?)

So like. How many squads are there? How many dungeons are there? How much downtime do they have between dungeons?

They all have Elf Twink Disease, they can’t be putting on the amount of weight everyone else is going for between dungeon dives to counter the risk of needing revival

(Which btw is not great for your health, rapidly gaining OR LOSING a large amount of weight all at once is dangerous on its own)

(I doubt a single Canary is actually at a healthy weight while serving they die and get revived all the time, but Milsiril never died once or put on any weight after retiring, and the few civilian elves we see are roughly the same size

We do know what emaciated looks like on an elf from Mithrun’s recovery (and tbh I reckon Fleki’s close, most common casualty if they really do kill her and pop her back every time her familiar dies cuz she doesn’t pull out) )

We know Pattadol’s first mission was the Island’s dungeon, but she was with the squad long enough for Cithis to ask Mithrun to break her

So how long was that? How many other wardens did Mithrun get killed? And how long was Cithis with them, if Pattadol was the first warden to annoy Cithis enough into telling Mithrun to hurt her?

I just. I need timelines. For Reasons.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #dungeon meshi meta #the canaries #canaries dungeon meshi #do they get vacation????? #how does it WORK???

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 22: Haley's POV

The whole day after Danny left, I had rotted away in my bed. I had no motivation to do anything, nor was my stomach up to doing anything. It wasn’t until the next day that I was back to being me.

Unfortunately, that me was the old me. I was short fused, hot tempered, and giving attitude left and right. I couldn’t help it for whatever reason, I was just really angry.

“I’m going to Alex’s. Enjoy the empty house,” I sneered at Emily before walking out the front door. Emily had a look of disappointment on her face after I told her where I’d be going. She just shamefully shook her head and went back to working on her sewing machine.

“I’m not even going to waste my breath. Do whatever you want, just don’t go crying to Danny when you get hurt by him again,” Emily shoots back.

Angrily, I turn on my heels and slam the door behind me as I walk out.

“Cry to Danny my ass. When have I ever cried to Danny about anything?” I mumble as I walk to Alex’s house. I pause in my step for a moment, realizing what I had just said. I started recalling all the times I have in fact cried to Danny. Shaking it off, I continue walking.

It was sometime in the afternoon, so there was a lot of hustle and bustle going on in town. Lots of townsfolk were going into Pierre’s to shop, or to the Stardrop Saloon for lunch. With every person I see, my heart skips a beat as I think they might be Danny. I don’t know if I am hoping to see her or not.

“Hi Evelyn! Beautiful day out today. Your flower beds are looking lovely,” I gush to Alex’s grandma when I arrive at their house. As angry as I am, no one can be mean to the sweet, elderly Evelyn.

“Why hello Haley. It’s been so long since you have been over, is everything alright?” She takes my hand and brings me further into the house.

“Everything is quite alright. I just thought I’d stop by and see how you all are. I also picked this on my way over!” I hand Evelyn a sweet pea that I found on the side of the path. She really likes flowers and will put any that she receives in a vase on the kitchen table.

“Oh my, it looks wonderful! That's very kind of you,” Evelyn starts walking to the kitchen to bring the sweet pea to the vase. Excitedly, I followed her into the kitchen to sit at the table.

When I round the corner to the kitchen, not only do I see the vase completely full of her all time favorite flowers which would be tulips and fairy roses, Danny is reclining back in one of the kitchen table chairs. I can’t see her eyes due to them being covered with sunglasses, but a huge grin is plastered across her face. She was also wearing a flannel tank top with the collar popped up to hide her neck and her cowboy hat resting on top of her brown hair. Her arms are crossed behind her head, as she dangerously tips the chair back and forth on its back legs. For a second, I can’t help but focus on the way her arm muscles are flexed but quickly snap out of it.

“A sweet pea is so thoughtful of you, Haley,” She jokes, continuously rocking back in the chair.

“How did you even get tulips and fairy roses! Those are only able to grow in spring!” I shout at her, aggressively pointing to the vase. All my anger I was suppressing has boiled to the brim.

Danny shrugs with no further explanation.

“What are you even doing here?” I shout at her again.

“Evelyn made cookies and asked if I wanted one. I’m not going to pass on that,” she says slyly as she takes a bite of a cookie.

“Haley, dear, do you want a cookie too?” Evelyn hands me a napkin with a fresh chocolate chip cookie placed on it.

I gently take the napkin from her hands and sit in the chair farthest from Danny. Just as I sat down, Danny had finished her cookie and got up.

“It was lovely seeing you Evelyn. Thank you for the delicious cookie. I’ll see you later,” Danny tips her hat down at Evelyn and starts to leave.

Before completely leaving my sight, Danny turns, slides her glasses down her nose and blows me a kiss. I feel my face get warm and quickly look away.

“What’s going on with you two? I thought you were friends?” Evelyn questions me.

“That’s not happening anymore. I completely ruined it,” I tear up as I explain to Evelyn.

“I’m sure if you guys just talk it out, you’ll be okay again?” She had walked over to rub my back as I let the tears fall.

“I wish,” I mutter. I cross my arms and rest them on the table in front of me. I lay my head down on my crossed arms and start tracing the designs on the wood of their table. Evelyn starts braiding my hair which calms me down immensely. It also causes me to let more tears roll down my cheeks from how nice she is to everyone. She truly is the best.

I spend all day hanging out with Evelyn and eventually George, Alex’s grandpa, as well. Alex was not home all day so I decided I’d wait for him by helping with chores in their house. I hate doing my own chores at home with Emily, but Evelyn and George are getting older and some things are tough on them. George is also in a wheelchair and can’t help her with much. I did a lot of their hard scrubbing and reaching into high places to dust. Helping out and cleaning really reduced the amount of stress I was feeling.

Around dinner time, Alex had waltzed through the front door. I was helping Evelyn with supper at the time, but quickly popped over to let him know I’m here and supper is almost ready.

“Hey Alex. I was waiting for you all day, where’d you go?” I ask him.

“No where,” he smugly says. I just nod my head and go back to help Evelyn. Clearly he isn’t in a good mood today either.

For dinner we had baked fish with, of course, a salad. A salad with leek in it for George. For dessert, I had helped Evelyn with making my favorite sweet treat ever. Pink cake! There was some left over so she told me I could bring it home with me.

“I’m going to the saloon. I need a beer,” Alex huffs as he gets up from the dinner table. I cringe at the thought of drinking, but quickly recover.

“I’ll come with you. Just to hangout though… I’m not drinking.”

I wave to Evelyn and George as I hurriedly try to keep pace with Alex. He is in such a rush.

“I’ll meet you over on the couch in the corner of the arcade where we usually sit. Do you want anything?” Alex states as he walks up to Gus at the bar.

“I’m alright. Still full from dinner,” I sigh as I walk to the couch. I don’t know why I wanted to see Alex so bad. He isn’t in a good mood and neither am I. Seeing Danny today left me completely flustered and lost in my thoughts.

Do I try to go see her? Do I try to talk to her about us? Is there even a point if I was to? I ask myself.

The couch cushion bounces me up as Alex plops down beside me on the couch. He takes a sip of his beer and reclines back. The two of us sit in silence, unsure of what to talk about.

Finally, Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian walk into the saloon and make their way to the arcade. Apparently the other night didn’t wreck Abigail’s friendship with the two of them. At least some of us stayed friends.

“Time to play some pool!” Sam hoots as he grabs a pool stick. Abigail grabs the other one and shoots daggers at Sam. I guess I was wrong about them being cool.

The rest of the group pours in as the night goes on. All except Danny. I’m not complaining since I’ve already seen her enough today.

Everyone in the group was looking at me funny today though. I’m not sure why they are smirking at me or looking me over. Elliot and Leah seem to be whispering about something but I see them looking my way every so often. It is really starting to bother me.

The bell over the saloon door rings out at the entrance of someone. Just as I hadn’t hoped, it was Danny. But instead of her flannel tank top with the collar popped, she had on a normal tank top that tied up in the front, showing her stomach. There was nothing hiding her neck with this shirt though, so the hickeys were on full display.

My hand flies to my mouth, causing the crowd in the arcade to bring their attention to me. I slouch back in my seat, trying to get the couch to absorb me. The entire restaurant and saloon had their eyes on Danny as she entered now, embarrassing me more since everyone can definitely see.

A few chuckles echo in the arcade area from Sebastian, Sam, Elliot and Leah, but the rest are all silent and straining their necks to look. Apparently the whole town has heard about the hickey situation and now it's their chance to catch a glimpse.

“Can’t keep anything private here,” I huff as I cross my arms.

Danny takes a seat at the bar instead of coming this way, which is the best thing she could do. She was smart enough to keep her distance. I watch as Gus takes her order and gives her a glass of water. She must feel the same about drinking again right now because usually she has a beer.

I jump up from the couch, and grab Alex’s hand. He gets the hint and stands up with me. I continue to hold his hand as we weave our way out of the arcade and saloon. Danny sees the motion of people walking out and turns to investigate. Her face is unreadable until I see her eyes focus on me holding Alex’s hand. Her face drops. I continue dragging Alex out, not giving it a second thought.

“That was only my first beer, Haley. Did we have to go already?” Alex whines as we near his house.

I pull him closer to me and whisper in his ear, “Evelyn and George are asleep. We can go to your room and… hangout?”

His face lights up and we pick up the pace into the house. We lock lips as we enter the house, bumping up against the front door from the force of the kiss.

We continue doing it all the way down the hallway, hoping to not wake up his grandparents from the bumping and stumbling around.

I rip his shirt off over his head and toss it aside once we enter his room. He guides me to the bed and starts undoing my shorts. I help him out and slide them down my legs once they are undone. He goes for my shirt next and flings it away. We continue to make out a bit longer until he pauses suddenly.

“I have to… go to the washroom,” he hesitates weirdly. He does this a lot when we are just about to go farther than making out.

He leaves me alone on the bed in his room, exposed in my pink lace lingerie. I sit up and take a look around the dark room. He loves to lift weights and play grid ball which is why there is a ton of weights and gridball equipment laying around. His whole room is covered with gridball print wallpaper which I think is cute. He also had a few posters of bodybuilders and weight lifters torn from sports magazines on his wall.

The silence of the room is interrupted by the sound of his telephone ringing. Who would be calling at this hour? Curiously, I went to pick up the phone.

“Hello? Who is this?” I speak into the phone, twirling the cord around my finger.

“It’s Taylor. Who is this?” A male voice rings through the phone. My mouth falls open in shock. Without thinking, I throw the phone back onto the receiver, hanging up on Taylor.

“Hey Hales, I heard the phone ring. You didn’t pick up, did you?” Alex bolts through the bedroom door suddenly. When he sees where I’m standing, his head lowers sheepishly, knowing exactly what I heard.

“You’re…gay?” I mutter. Taylor was the voice he always moaned accidentally whenever we had sex. He must’ve always been the person in bed when I caught Alex cheating too. I had never seen the face, but I always thought it was too unproportionate of a lump under the covers to be a girl.

Alex just nods his head, his eyes welling up with tears. Suddenly the posters of shirtless, ripped, men on the wall made sense.

“Alex, you could’ve just said something. I would never be mad at you for that,” I cautiously walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder.

“I didn’t…I didn’t want to admit it…” he sniffles. He lowers himself and wraps his burly arms around me, nearly squeezing me to death.

“It’s all okay. You are who you are and we all love you for it,” I try comforting him.

“Says you,” he says through sobs. I freeze and pull back from the hug.

“What did you say?”

“I know what’s going on between you and Danny. Everyone does, Haley. Except you,” he wipes away his tears and just stares at me.

The tears I have frightening to hold back all day make their appearance as I register the words he had just said. He pulls me in for another hug but it’s my turn to cry.

“I don’t know what to do,” I cry into his chest.

“You guys just need to talk it out. There is so much connection between you guys, you just have to embrace it. Danny seems to be very comfortable with it, you just need to let her take the lead. She will understand this is new to you and will be patient with your feelings. Once you’ve accepted yourself, then you can kick it into high gear when you’re ready,” Alex explains, comfortingly. I have never heard him be so wise before. I guess he is also speaking from experience.

“You’re right. I’ll give it a shot. Thank you, Alex,” I squeeze him tighter and he rests his head on top of mine. We were never destined to be lovers, we were meant to be a couple of “confused feeling” besties.

#sdv #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #stardew #stardew fanfic #stardew valley haley #stardew valley haley fanfic #haley fanfic #sdv haley fanfic #sdv haley #stardew haley #haley stardew #haley x female farmer #haley x farmer #lgbtq #wlw yearning #wlw #sapphic #sapphic yearning #lesbian #pelican town #fanfic #stardew valley fanfic #stardew farmer #farmer #sdv farmer #stardew valley farmer #haley sdv #haley stardew valley

[maplesturniolo]

Shower~C.S

Warning- SMUTT, “just friends”, shower sex, nicknames (ma), nothing else really (my first story, also not proofread)

Summary- your sleepover gets a little spicy when Chris finds out your secret. (Sorry this is so short)

Almost every weekend me and the triplets find time to have a sleepover, but this week only Chris and nick could make it. That’s because Matt was really sick and didn’t want to get anyone else sick as well. Particularly because Matt is sick we are sleeping over at my house. And don’t get me wrong I love these boys so much, but I kind of have a small crush on Chris. I hope he doesn’t know and now I’m worried because I only have one small ish bed in my room and one spear room that Nick usually likes to sleep in, so that means Chris would have to be with me…

~

“Hey we should watch a movie, I seen an ad on TikTok for it” nick said looking up from his phone a split second before reaching for the remote. We were all sitting on the large couch I had in my house. Nick and I sat beside each other and Chris was looking in the fridge for food. Once nick got the movie ready to play I readjusted my self to be laying my head on his thigh and had my legs spread to the other side of the couch. “Chris you coming” nick shouted at Chris who was still looking through my kitchen. I looked over at him, leaned against the side of the fridge his veiny hands grasping a can of Pepsi.

I wonder what those long slender fingers would feel like inside me?

“Hey you good?” I snapped out of my thoughts when Nick asked “yea no I’m fine” I say shaking my head and giving him a slight smile in reply. “Cmon guys let’s just start the movie already” I say trying ti keep my mind off of how hot Chris looked right now.

~

Half way through the movie, I sat in between Chris and nick still laying my head on nick except now it’s on his shoulder. Nick had picked a horror movie, I was completely fine with it but Chris on the other hand, not so much. At every single jumps scare he flinched, and sometimes screamed.

Man I wonder if he would make those noises if I jerked him off?

More of the movie has passed and I got tired, “hey guys you can keep watching I’m just a bit tired I’m going to go lay down” they nodded their heads and I walked up the stairs to my room and closed the door behind me. I got undressed and put on a pair of tight shorts over my black lace underwear. I removed my bra and put on one of nicks shirts that he lets me borrow. Just then I hear a knock on my door.

“Hey sweetie make sure you guys don’t stay up too late tonight okay” my mom said coming in to give me a hug goodnight. “Yup, love you!” I say in response walking over to my bed.

As I was scrolling on my phone Chris barged in “I spilled my Pepsi all over me now I’m all sticky” you giggled in response seeing the huge puddle of Pepsi on his shirt. “You could just take a shower if you want” you said looking over to the bathroom door. “Thank you” Chris sarcastically put his hands together and looked at you before grabbing his change of clothes and walking into your bathroom.

Chris was already in the shower and you realized that you needed to brush your teeth. “Hey Chris! Can I come in for a sec?” You said knocking on the door a few times, “yup” he yelled back in response. You grabbed your toothbrush and started to apply the toothpaste when you heard a knock on the door of your bathroom “hey the boys are in the spare room right?” “Uhh, yes ya they are!” You say in response knowing Chris was naked behind you. “Okay! I’m coming in to grab something real quick!” You didn’t know what to do do you quickly got undressed and jumped in the shower with Chris.

“Hey! What th-“ you put your hand over Chris’s mouth. “Okay thanks sweetie! Goodnight!” Your mom closed the door and left, leaving you completely exposed Infront of Chris, and him exposed infront of you. “Holy fuck” Chris says staring you up and down. “Chris!” You shout at him and turn around. “Whattt? You are the one who jumped in here”

I mean he isn’t wrong, “shut it Christopher” you snapped back at him. As you were lifting your feet up to get out Chris’s hands attached to your waist.

“Where do you think you’re going” you could feel his rock hard dick on your back “anywhere but here” you say turning around to face him.

Just then Chris pulls you in for a passionate hungry kiss, his tongue immediately exploring your mouth. You start grinding forwards into his dick, getting groans from Chris.

“Now if we’re are going to do this you better be fucking quiet” Chris said grabbing your jaw, you let out a moan “I need words ma” “yes oh my god just fuck me already” you moaned out.

Quickly Chris turns you around and pushed your back down to create an arch, you could feel the arousal dripping from your pussy.

“You’re so wet for me” Chris said as he swiped his eager tip through your folds. You moaned at the feeling, “I told you to be fucking quiet” he pounded into giving you no time to adjust to his 8 inch dick.

He waisted no time, fucking into you harder and harder, very few moans escaped your mouth. “I’m gonna-“ you say trying not to scream at the pleasure. “Not yet ma, cum with me” he said slightly adjusting his position, now repetativly hitting your g-spot.

“Oh fuck Chris” you moaned, releasing all over his cock. “Oh shitt” he says right after you, releasing his own cum deep into your pussy. “What the fuck just happened” he said as he pulled out of you slowly, “I don’t fucking know”

~

You and Chris were laying in your bed, your head in his chest talking when you got a text, it was from Nick.

“Did yall just fuck”

You and Chris look at eachother and giggle. What’s gonna happen now?

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #wet and needy

[ssailormoonn]

❛ Crimson ❜ ── 001

Phantom Troupe X Fem!Reader

| 000 | 001 | 002 -coming soon |

Chapters ✦ 2/??

a/note:: this chapter is quite short as the next chapter will be really long and getting into juicy stuff, next chapter will be over 2000-3000 words guys dw 😭 i was going to write smut in this chapter but i didn't that that you all wouldve been somfortable with smut straight up.... remember that {y/n} already has a some what established relationship with the love interests

TW/CW; check 'crimson' desc

The waves had swallowed me whole, casting me ashore on unfamiliar territory. I knew I was far from the Dark Continent, a realization that sank in as I stretched my arms above my head, the salty sea breeze tousling my hair. Those fools on the ship had no idea where they were heading. Now, the Dark Continent was too far to swim back to, leaving me stranded and uncertain about how to return.

I need to eat something, maybe they have better specimen on this land instead.

"{Y/n}," Shizuku's voice called out, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to see Shizuku, Machi, and Phinks approaching.

"Yes?" I responded, curious about their intentions.

"We're heading into the city for some food. Want to join us?" Shizuku offered.

Despite my hunger, I shook my head. "As tempting as that sounds, I'll eat out later. Thanks, love," I said with a reassuring smile.

Shizuku sighed, a note of disappointment in her voice. "Alright. We'll see you later then."

The three of them left the abandoned building, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Just as they disappeared from view, Chrollo's voice broke the silence.

"When was the last time you ate, dear?" he asked, not lifting his gaze from the book he was engrossed in.

"Last week," I admitted, standing up. "The Hunter Association has made it difficult for me to find a meal. Not only did they seal me, but they're also restricting how much I can consume now."

"That's unacceptable," he murmured, closing his book with a decisive snap. "It's in your nature to consume beings. They can't control that."

"I know," I said quietly, frustration evident in my voice. "If only they hadn't found me in the first place, none of this would be happening."

"It isn't your fault," Chrollo reassured me. "You are a threat to them, yes. But if it comes to that again, you don't have to go out looking for someone. I am here to meet your needs."

His words carried a deeper implication. He was offering himself again, as he had before. Chrollo had always been willing to let me feed on him when necessary. The last time it happened, he had reveled in the experience, too much for my comfort.

It didn't feel that good, right?

I met his gaze, the memory of that encounter fresh in my mind. "I appreciate your offer, Chrollo," I replied, my voice steady. "But we both know it's not ideal."

"I'll do whatever I can to ensure you're comfortable," Chrollo said, moving behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. I felt his touch melt away some of the tension. His breath was warm against my ear as he lowered his head to my height. "I'm sure you enjoy taking from me," he murmured.

The memory of our last encounter flashed in my mind. Feeding from Chrollo had escalated into something far more intimate, our shared hunger turning into a passionate exchange. It had nearly gone further if Hisoka hadn't abruptly interrupted us.

"But enough about that," Chrollo continued, his voice a soothing hum. His hands remained on my shoulders, and I stayed rigid under his dominating touch. "I have a new task for you."

I stiffened slightly, anticipating his next words. "Look after Hisoka for me again this year."

I exhaled, annoyance creeping into my voice. "I have to go again?" He was referring to the Hunter Exam. Last year, I had to keep Hisoka in check and ensure he got his license. However, Hisoka had killed an examiner and failed.

"He's like a child," I muttered. "So hard to manage."

"I know," Chrollo hummed, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "But you'll do it for me, won't you?"

I hesitated, feeling the weight of his request. Hisoka was unpredictable, dangerous, and a constant challenge. Yet, Chrollo's proximity, his touch, and his unwavering confidence in me made it difficult to refuse.

"For you," I whispered, turning my head slightly to meet his gaze. "I'll do it."

Chrollo's eyes glinted with approval, and he squeezed my shoulders gently, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. "That's my {Y/n}," he said softly, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin below my ear, trailing along the curve of my jawline.

He's making this so hard for me to say no to his requests.

do not steal, copy or modify and of my work, ONLY REBLOGS!

❛ Crimson ❜

tell me in the comments or dm if you want to be added to the taglist:3

taglist; @nobunagahazamaworlddomination @yashiro2809 @honeypiedoll @bubblebum-b1tch-blog @simpforramenboy @sxyriii

#·:*¨༺ ♱CRIMSON♱ ༻¨*:· #Chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #phantom troupe x reader #illumi x reader #feitan x reader #hisoka x reader

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

#jrwi fanart #cw blood #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #arthur bennett #OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob: #BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay #i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY. #THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL #so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM.. #grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that #ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT #arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES #I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM. #I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no #ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE #BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much... #GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that #we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW #he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE.. #i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar #I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS #also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that #human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY #i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK #feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh

[pistachi0art]

More Ben fam stuff I believe I have neglected to put here

#Neo’s way more of an E boy now #men’s fashion can be difficult sometimes aight #small things #the twins are Marley n Neo #bc YES I take back what I said about Ben not having any twin siblings #I like twin dynamics ok #and Cohen! #I’m going through his design n personality and have landed on ‘moody singer who writes songs about how shitty everything is’ #he’s also like. coping bc he took Ben’s ‘thing’ #long story short Ben really liked singing when he was younger but never wanted to pursue it #and Cohen just happened to also be really good but not as good as Ben so he claimed that singing would be HIS thing #and now he feels guilty bc he knows that Ben never pursued it bc Cohen took that confidence from him #and it was really more about the fame n glamour for Cohen too so #he feels his singing is ingenuous #lmao #lore jumpscare!!! #big thoughts #late night posting #benrey fam

[ragnarokhound]

((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞

From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa

anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)

Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence

15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 

Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.

He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 

But, uh. Let’s back up a little.

—

Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.

He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 

Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.

So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.

With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.

"What's going on here?"

The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.

“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.

“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”

Tim stops in his tracks.

“Forty-eight—?”

“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”

Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 

Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 

Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.

It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.

Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—

And then Tim thinks about the call.

The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 

He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.

“Today,” he repeats.

She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”

"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."

—

He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.

Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.

Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.

Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.

He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.

As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.

“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”

The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”

“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”

“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.

“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”

“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”

—

The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 

He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.

He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.

By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 

Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.

Fuck it.

He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.

Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.

Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.

He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.

Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—

And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.

“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”

He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.

—

Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.

See, here’s the thing.

The thing is, he has options.

He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 

He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.

And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.

No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.

With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:

“Hand over your wallet!”

He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.

Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.

Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.

The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.

“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”

The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.

“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”

The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”

Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 

His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.

“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”

“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.

Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.

“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”

Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.

“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.

Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 

He knows that voice.

“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.

Everything happens pretty quickly after that.

Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.

Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 

Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.

Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 

So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.

Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.

“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”

Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.

Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.

Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.

“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.

Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.

“Yeah. Had.” 

So much for the League, Tim muses.

Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 

“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”

Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”

Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.

“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 

God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 

“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”

—

They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.

“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”

“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”

“Again. Fucking ew.”

“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”

“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”

Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”

Jason thwacks him upside the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”

“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.

Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”

Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.

“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”

Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.

Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.

“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”

Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.

“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”

“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”

The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.

Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.

“Jason—!”

“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”

“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”

“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”

“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.

“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”

The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.

“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”

Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.

Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.

“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.

“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 

Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.

“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”

He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.

And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.

He knows, okay?

“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”

Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.

And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 

But he still means it.

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”

The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.

The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.

But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.

Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”

Jason’s grin is electric. 

He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.

Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—

—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.

“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”

“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.

“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”

Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 

The kiss is— bad. At first. 

Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.

Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.

“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.

“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”

Tim is already asleep.

#one hundred thousand years have passed #i creak up out of the soil gasping and hacking and coughing #'i lived bitch' #'have some jaytim that grew legs on me' #my writing #asked and answered #jaytim #ladytauria #hurt/comfort #this one is sillier and more light-hearted than the other ones #the hurt is more like 'near tears travel exhaustion' than your typical aftermath of violence lol but it so definitely counts #i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger #i KNOW it's a very fast get together but i did Not want this to become my next 5 digit wordcount fic okay. okay. oka #the bones of a long 'tim and jason vs the league of assassins' fic is hiding here #and if i actually wrote that this would have ended much differently #but i am Not Writing That okay I am Writing Cowboys and also Werewolves Right Now. I Do Not Have Time For This!!!!!! #prompt fill

[bootyful-seventeen]

hey y'all, anyone have any good stress relief tehniques or habits they'd like to share cuz I've been more stressed in the last 3 weeks then I was in the last 6 months

#to cut the long story short my mom had to sell the old house cuz her broke ass couldnt afford to keep it up #eventho it is a whole ass hoarders house and was in shambles with a flooded basement a collapsing ceiling in at least 2 rooms plus mold #and the stench a dirt and dog piss and shit all over the floor really made it worse then it was #but yeah so shes been staying with me and my grandma and its been awful #she hasnt been taking any of the medicine the doctors gave her when she snapped and started a fight and also started screaming at neighbour #so shes been terrorizing us here while the house has become her second hoarders den since she dragged so much crap here #my backyard side entrance and front porch are full of her shit and my grandma hates it since she can barely step into the house #so since she kept looking for places way out of her budget i had to go do house hunting since my useless sister is busy getting lit again #so ive been showing her shit in her price range that was under 420k cuz im not a moron who looks at 800k homes when i have 570k #and each time she has a new complaint saying its too expenive or its too small or its too old when she said she wants to do renovations #but shes saying she wants to renovate a newly renovated place instead of an old one #so i just showed her a house near my sisters uni and she liked the inside & backyard but she complained that 400k for newly renovated 3 bed #that is literally a 9 minute drive from my sisters uni is too expensive when shes the one who was looking at an old ass unrenovated bungalo #that is a street over from us that is 800k and she says it looks like garbage cuz an old lady previously owned it before dying #like no shit it looks old cuz older people lived those decades and like it and she just keeps doing her bullshit again & again #cuz when i tell you her mind is gone i mean it is GONE and she starts up all these wild stories to just explain some shit #like something goes missing? the neighbours are hungarian and stole it and left the hoard of junk in her old house #she has more stupid stories to harass and stress us out with but if im gonna share that ill have to write a book about it cuz fuck #and you know its bad when no one else can stand being in any contact with her cuz she starts screaming at people about it #so the only one who even likes her anymore is my sister and thats cuz shes deep in denial about just how insane she is & how abusive she is #so yeah i need some stress relief help that maybe isnt constantly hitting up maryjane cuz i dont do weed often especially since shes here #cuz weed 'burns your brain & makes you crazy like this' when shes the only one whos ever infuriated me to astronimical levels #i know retail therapy helped before she came here but i dont want to keep spending money i dont really have #it would be great tho but shes refusing to give me the 70k she said was mine from the house sale so i can cut her out for good