#part of me wants to write a fic of this

[erenthology]

Assertive

Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader

collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests ♡)

I don’t mind if you’re ignoring me, cuz I’m ignoring you. “ he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress. 

You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. There’s no way you haven’t searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. He’s laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That f’ckin bastard.

“Do you have my phone, Eren?”

He flashes his teeth, “ugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. C’mere.” he pats his lap.

You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. “Do you have it or not?” He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.

”Do I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,” stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.

Earlier, Eren’s roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didn’t want his friends to think you can’t take a joke.

You know he’s just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,

‘’Hey, hey” he grabs your hand. ”where do you think you’re going?’’ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.

‘’To ask if the guys have they’ve seen it?’’ 

His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.

 ‘’Not like that, you’re not,’’ he gives you an ‘’end of discussion’’ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before you’ve even fully turned.

The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When you’re mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until you’ve cooled down. Claiming it “breaks his heart watching you walk away angry.”

He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.

He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ‘’gotcha,’’ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ‘’You’re annoying.” you pinch his ear in retaliation.

“Ow, hey, you know you’re stronger than you look.” he scratches his reddened ear. ‘’I'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.’’ You burst out laughing over how dramatic he’s being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.

Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile “weirdo, stop staring,’’ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.

You’re both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, “you know, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.’’ he gently admits, then lifts his head,

‘’plus, I’m the only one who has a say about you in bed.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Gross,’’ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ‘‘but it’s fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.’’ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,

‘’that’s a good girl.’’

You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ‘’speaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.’’

He knows. It’s the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. It’s nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ‘’You can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.’’

‘’I'm not mad at you’’ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. “Besides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,” you admit, looking straight into his eyes.

His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. “Don’t even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,” large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his.  

You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, “I really need to do my routine check,” sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.

You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.

“Did you just pout at me?”

“Nuh uh,” you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Eren’s eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where you’re innocently meeting his eyes.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ‘’You wanna get fucked?’’ he spits with disgust, or admiration. It’s hard to tell with him.

“Know you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.

‘’Telling me it turned you on when I was commanding,’’ he shakes his head as if disappointed.‘’It's good I’m here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.’’

You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. “Just wanna make you happy,’ you breathe out. He almost laughs. 

“You know what would make me happy?‘’ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.

‘’you with my cock in your mouth.” You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being. 

Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, “are you waiting for something? get to work.” he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.

Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, “make me proud.’’ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You can’t help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him. 

It’s been quiet for some time now and you’re growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you can’t help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants. 

He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what you’re up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Eren’s nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.

He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, “Not yet, need you to be a good girl for me.’’ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.

Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected it’s making you wail even louder.

 “stop whining, you don’t deserve to suck my dick.” Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare you’re given. “But I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.” you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release. 

He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ‘’does sucking me off make you wet?’’ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up.  

A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.

He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. “such a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,” kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.

“Eren, please”

He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. It’s like he’s so needy for you he can’t be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.

Eren’s broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself. 

 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen. 

You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say you’re not curious about what goes on in his mind when he’s focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.

Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, “oh, fuck.” and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when he’s reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.

Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in. 

He’s fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric that’s hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth. 

‘’Touch yourself.’’ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,’’really thought i’d let you walk out of my room looking like this.’’ he grows almost annoyed at the thought. 

Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly you’re looking at him, “You’re all I want, Eren.’’ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ‘’that’s good, because i'm a selfish man.’’

 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, you’re essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room. 

He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. “Does it feel good, princess?’’ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ‘’Yeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.’’ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.

He’s stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.

Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.

He raises an eyebrow, “did you just cum?” the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. “Tried to hold it in for you,” you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didn’t. And you know it too. 

“Turn around,” he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. “Don’t act all shy with me now, let’s see your face,” he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. “That’s a good, good girl.” 

Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.

Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.

It’s hard maintaining eye contact with him when he’s like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you can’t look away. He’s pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.

“This is what you’re making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,” he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.

You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. “Are you close, Eren?’’

“Yeah,” his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ‘’yes, yes.” you’re grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.

He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in.  He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.

“Ugh, fuck.” He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.

You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. “That's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.” he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face. 

The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing he’d fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.

You’re usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.

Once he’s done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. “Wake up, sleepy.” he’s back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. “C’mon, you need to pee.’’ It’s true, so you comply and he leaves you to it. 

This is a conversation you’ve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but you’ve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.

When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ‘’what do you feel like eating?’’ he’s playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm. 

“Not hungry.’’ you murmur.

Eren fights the urge to sigh. “Sorry, not up for debate.’’ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing you’ll feel hungry once you see him eat.

When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.

‘’You’re a big baby.’’ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You don’t miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.

‘’down, boy. i’m not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.’’

He grins, ‘’I didn’t say anything’.’ knowing he’ll do exactly that when you’re done eating.

#ik i said i would look over this but i feel asleep at 5 and hust woke up so ops #someday #the the more active part… #:8 I’m planning to write for Gojo n nanami but Eren is the priority #but it takes me long to work on stuff so if u have ideas u want me to write send then now #oh and also! guess who had a whole edited draft and forgot to save it? #this is the result of that #anyway enjoy ♡ #eren smut #attack on titan eren #eren #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger #just in the clouds for eren #my fics #fanfics #my writing #snk eren #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger smut

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!! #idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't? #I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!! #if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

[buck2eddie]

quote from “for everything we are (everything we’ve been)” fic // written by @lover-of-mine

#everyone go read this fic it HITS HARD ok!!!!! #if the show ever lets these men face their traumas together THIS is how i want it to be done #and this part stayed with me and i could see clearly how to make an edit for it so <3 i did <3 #anna i hope you like this <3 thank you for writing and sharing this fic with us!!!!!! hope you accept my humble gift to you #buddie #buddie fic #buddieedit #911 #911 abc #911edit #m*edits

[lancrewizzard]

On one level, I get why people want Rincewind to finally do magic, especially in fanfic. The man's been through absolute hell multiple times, insulted, dismissed, underestimated, and generally used as the universe's chew toy. It only makes sense to want him to achieve his dreams.

But I can't emphasise enough how important it is, thematically and character-wise, for Rincewind to be inherently incapable of doing magic. In a way, he's the inverse of a wizard, in that it would be more accurate to say that magic uses him. One of the eight great spells used him as a portable spell book, he was a sort of grounding rod for excess magic in Sourcery, and he's a tool of the gods, which themselves need the magic weakened reality in order to exist on the Disc.

Rincewind's stories aren't about overcoming one's weaknesses or finding hidden strength. He's not a hero, he's just someone who happened to be there. Rincewind's stories are of survival, and it's important that that's all they're about. At their heart, these are books about a man who isn't that strong or smart or brave or good or special in any way, but he still survives situations that no one should ever have to face and helps others along the way.

Giving Rincewind magic makes him Special TM, and that stops him being special as a character. Discworld is full of inspirational heroes who chose to do the right thing, and so became important from their choices. Rincewind means more to me as a character, because when you're fighting physical and mental illness, surviving is often the only victory that matters.

#Rincewind is Important #I'm having thoughts and feelings and barely putting them into words #this discworld ramble brought to you by me wanting to write a little fic and my brain not cooperating #i'm having a time and rincey is my special little guy #and seeing people not understand his uselessness being part of what makes him such a special little guy makes me sad

[fckedupnerd]

This mf was the hottest Mat has ever been and nobody can convince me otherwise. Fickelgruber the one true love of my LIFE. 💚💚💚💚

#wonka 2023 #mathew baynton #mat baynton #fickelgruber #felix fickelgruber #only man ever #I love him SO MUCH #hottest Mat character for me now #yes he even surpassed Sam Pinkett #and for anyone that knows me that is a HUGE deal #but WHEW this man right here #fucking perfect #he is so gorgeous #if evil why sexy #main character energy frfr #fuck I want so much fic of Slugworth domming him pls #is that so much to ask #I’m not very good at writing the sex part of fic #but god I hope people who are good at that part imprint on these two and especially Felix as much as I have because WOW I need it #down so bad #will never recover from this film #wonka #wonka movie #ficklegruber

[wastefulreverie]

every one one of my characters i write is aroace coded btw because figuring out how straight people think is fucking beyond me

#one time when I was 12 I tried writing a kissing scene between two characters for fan service bc I didn't want my readers to stop reading #my fic and I almost cried because it felt like pulling teeth. never occured to me for like. 6 years that that's not a normal reaction when #it comes to writing kissing scenes. didn't realize that people actually enjoyed that part of writing I thought it was just there for realism #aromantic #asexual #fanfiction #danny phantom fic girlies this ones for u

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part Four  / Part Five P 1 YOU ARE HERE / Part Five P 2 

As always I own my soul to @chalkysgarbagefire and Hayley for helpin out with this one! 

The problem with D&D games was that the drama room was only available on specific days.

As in, the days Hellfire was scheduled as a club for, much to said club’s distress. 

This led directly into the second issue Hellfire faced--finding a place to host them all when they wanted to do something as a group outside of the main campaign they played. 

(At least anything D&D related, with all of the screaming, ranting, and frantic dice rolling that came with it.) 

Gareth knew Eddie had been lying through his teeth when he'd try to pitch Steve's house as a Hellfire hangout. Accepted that they’d never get to use all the sweet, sweet space Steve was known to have as much as he’d accepted Steve himself. 

It was a lot, after all. Particularly when Eddie’s one-shots were known to last a good chunk of the day. 

Once again, Steve had proved them all wrong. 

(“We can use my house.” were five words not a single person at the table had ever expected to hear out of Harrington’s mouth, and it showed in the shocked silence that followed when he actually spoke them. 

“What?” Steve asked, as six pairs of eyes stared at him. “Space is the problem right? So my house is the perfect solution.” 

“Are you sure dude?” Grant asked hesitantly. “You know this one-shot isn’t gonna be a like, two hour thing, right?” 

To their surprise Steve just gave him a flat, almost dead-eyed stare in return. “I’ve hosted the kids at my place before. Believe me, I am well aware.” 

“As long as you’re absolutely sure…” Jeff had added, and could only roll his eyes when he got a sassy response from Steve. 

Gareth of course, caught the way Steve kept seeking out Eddie’s eyes, as if hoping to make their oldest friend smile simply by offering up his house. 

He didn’t even need to look to know it was working.) 

It had taken some creative thinking (and a few wild excuses) to finangle things so that he could show up to Steve's literal castle of a home before anyone else without alerting Eddie but he'd managed it.

It was in fact, looking to be the highlight of Gareth's month. 

Possibly the year, if they managed to pull off the little plot he had cooked up. 

“I still don’t get how this is a prank.” Steve said, as Gareth prepped him before the others arrived.

"Trust me. If Eddie is anything, it's a jealous bitch." Gareth replied, seated on one of the countertops. "We dethrone him and he's gonna make an ass of himself for the next week. It'll be hilarious." 

"I fail to see how that's different than usual." Steve grumbled as he bustled about. 

Upon arrival Gareth had found him elbow deep into making cookies and what appeared to be  themed cocktails, among several other bowls full of snacks of all kinds. 

There was even little finger sandwiches, the kind that absolutely looked homemade, and Gareth would have teased him about that except he’d instantly stuffed two in his mouth.  

("I won't be able to host since I'm playing, so I just want everything done before anyone comes over." Was Steve's explanation, when Gareth did manage to get out a few teasing quips.  

With the proud lack of manners so many teenage boys possessed, Gareth talked right through his mouth of food. "God you’re a dork. How the hell did you get popular?"

"Shut up Emerson, you're wearing two jackets." Steve snipped in response, as if he didn’t look like the poster boy for Nordstrom.) 

"Don't bring logic into this." Gareth continued, as he tried to snag some cookie dough. 

 Steve smacked the back of his hand with a spoon. 

"Get a bowl and a spoon if you're going to eat the dough!" Steve grumbled at him, already bustling to get said bowl and spoon himself. “God you’re worse than Eddie. And the kids!” 

Gareth waited until Steve turned before he stuck his tongue out at him. "Whatever you say, mom." 

He got an over exaggerated eye roll in response. 

 "Anyway, the point is you're gonna witness something we'll get to tease Eddie about for years." Gareth said, as he watched Steve dole out some dough. 

"You get to watch the little hamster on the wheel that powers Eddie's brain lose its shit and cause him to do something really stupid.” He made grabby hands for the bowl and spoon, and tucking in delightfully the second Steve handed them over. 

Steve himself treated the entire exchange like he was feeding a particularly vicious and wild animal, making a show of yanking his hands back like Gareth might just go for his fingers. "I just don't understand why the thing you wanna fight about is cuddling."

"Bragging rights. The jokes we can make. The fact that your thighs look like they were made out of clouds, take your pick man.” Gareth counted off, in-between bites of dough. 

"Clouds?" Steve asked, tilting his head. 

“Big muscley clouds, Harrington. Also Grant’s here.” 

Steve blinked. “How do you-” He asked, right before the sound of a car with an engine far too loud pulled into his driveway. 

“He drives an absolute piece of crap. You ride in that thing one time and you’ll be able to hear it coming for the rest of your life.” Gareth explained, as Steve peered out the kitchen and down to his front doors. 

(Plural, because he had two.

Gareth had never felt more judged by slabs of wood in his life than he had when he’d walked through them.) 

"Last chance to bail, Stevie.” Gareth teased. “I won't hold it against you if you call it off mid-show though." 

Steve didn’t answer for a moment, too busy disrobing from his baking apron—a bright yellow and red garment that practically swallowed him whole, complete with an embroidered ‘Claudia Henderson’ over the right breast. The embroidery gave rise to a few questions but Gareth decided to save them for later. 

"No, something this fucking weird has to have a story behind it and I want to witness the fallout.” Steve finally replied, before rushing out of the kitchen. 

He ripped open his front door, right after a knock echoed loudly throughout the house. 

“Shit! What the hell man, were you just waiting to do that!?” Stewart yelped, prompting Gareth to snicker quietly and Steve to apologize. 

Like the wealthy housewife he’d been no doubt raised by, Steve went through a whole spiel as he ushered Stewart and Grant in, pointing out bathrooms, letting them know where the game was going to take place (the giant fuck off table that looked like it should be hosting some kind of high-stakes negotiation instead of a bunch of nerds) and where they could put their things (into a closet dedicated to just guests.) 

The trio of Eddie, Tiffany and Jeff arrived next, the latter two having been roped into helping Eddie haul his “D&D To Go” bags around. 

Steve started his little host speech over, much to Gareth’s amusement, fluttering about and entirely forgetting about his cookies until the oven dinged, causing him to swear and rush back into the kitchen. 

“Dude, breathe.” Gareth told him, almost done with his bowl. “It’s a D&D game, you don’t gotta go full out for us.” 

“I just want to make sure everyone has a good time.“ Steve said with a shrug. Like none of the effort he’d gone to, was a big deal. 

“Careful Harrington, say stuff like that again and we’re going to start thinking you enjoy hosting us.” 

“Shut up Gary.” Steve said, setting his cookies on a cooling rack. “And put that bowl in the sink!” 

Gareth jumped off the counter, trying his best to remove the shit eating from his face.

He failed entirely. 

xXx 

As far as pranks went, this one required quite the set up. 

They couldn’t do it in the beginning of the D&D game--too obvious, and too easy for Eddie to call bullshit. 

Doing it at the end wouldn’t work either. Eddie would know they were trying to rile him up and would no doubt find a way to ruin it. 

Years of being Munson’s best friend had afforded Gareth the knowledge that this was going to have to be split in two parts, and the first part, the setup, started now. 

Slowly. Methodically. 

In a way that wouldn't spook Steve, or trigger Eddie's sense for trouble. 

Gareth began by selecting a seat as far away from Eddie as possible, knowing his lovestruck idiot friend would be pulling out all the stops tonight in order to impress Steve (and get him to keep playing, of course.) 

Sure enough, as soon as Eddie was done setting up he crooked a finger in Steve's direction.

“Harrington you’re here, next to me.” Eddie flashed him his most award winning grin, the one that said he was up to trouble in that charming, ‘aren’t I just a charming ol’ rogue?” sort of way. 

“I made you a human fighter, just to start you off." He continued, as Steve took the seat next to him. "You can always make your own character later if you don't like playing this class, but I made this set up as straightforward as possible.” 

“Human fighter huh?” Steve said, glancing down the sheet. “Okay.” 

“You have any questions, you just ask. I promise I won’t bite. Not for your first time anyway.” Eddie winked, dipping in and out of Steve's space as he did so. 

“Dude, I am begging you to please stop saying shit like that.” Jeff said with a long suffering sigh. 

“No.” Eddie replied promptly, sticking his tongue out. 

Steve just ducked his head to hide his smile. 

A harsh clap halted any further response, as Eddie settled back into his seat and dipped into his DM narrator voice. 

"Alright my little adventurers! Are we ready to begin?"  He looked around as everyone looked towards him, the energy shifting instantly in the room. 

Eddie grinned gleefully. "Perfect. You all wake up at an Inn, with no memory of how you got there…" 

A story was quickly spun, one of mysterious memory loss and a sense that the group needed to stay together. Introductions were given once everyone came into the tavern of the inn, cut short when they were interrupted by a lone barkeep.

“Is the barkeep a human?” Steve cut in. 

Eddie paused, temporarily thrown, but nodded encouragingly. “Yes, he is actually!” 

Grant and Jeff both went to open their mouths, no doubt to tease, but Harrington beat them to it. 

“Okay, I roll to fight him, or whatever.” Steve said.

“I--what?” Eddie asked. 

“I roll to fight him.” Steve repeated. “Oh and my character screams “Death to humans!” before he attacks.” 

He sat back with a smug little grin, and watched as Eddie froze in surprise, while Grant and Stewart's jaws promptly hit the floor. 

“Harrington, you menace.” Tiff cackled, delighted. 

Eddie just threw his head back and laughed. 

It set the tone quite nicely for the rest of the one-shot. 

xXx 

“Grant, why are you looking at me through a fork?” Steve asked, about thirty minutes into the game. 

“I’m pretending you’re in jail.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Grant, whose character had to physically carry Steve's fighter out of two altercations he started,  just gave him a flat look.  “It’s spiritually healing.”

"Hey Jeff." Gareth asked quietly, as banter was traded. "I'm catching a hell of a draft over here." 

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. "And what do you want me to do about it?" 

"Switch me seats?" 

Jeff rolled his eyes, but gave in easily enough. 

"Fine."  He said. 

Gareth did his best to keep his grin off his face. 

Step one, complete! 

xxx

"You come upon a door." Eddie said, sitting deep in his seat while steepling his fingers. "It's a normal door, unremarkable in every way except for two things." 

Groans filled the room, startling Steve. 

"Oh god, not again." Stewart moaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I can't do this again!" 

Eddie's grin merely grew. "The first odd thing you notice is that the door has been put into the wall at a tilt." 

"I'm gonna kill him." Tiff snarled, writing something frantically in her notes. "Munson is a dead man walking." 

"What is happening?" Steve asked, glancing around. 

"The second thing is that you recognize this door." Eddie's grin was Cheshire cat-esque, smug in the chaos he was causing among his friends. "It's the same door you saw at the beginning of this adventure, leading into the room the Innkeeper asked you to stay away from." 

"We're boned." Grant announced, throwing himself dramatically back against his chair. 

Gareth made his own dramatic, frustrated noise, banging his fist on the table. 

The full glass of soda next to him wobbled dangerously. 

With a cough, he made another loud "ugh!"  smacking his fist down a second time, closer to the glass. 

As intended, it spilled all over Tiffany. 

"Dude!" She exclaimed, shoving her chair backwards and jumping up. 

"Oh shit Tiff, I'm so sorry!" Gareth gasped. 

It was hard to keep a straight (albeit very sorry, least Tiffany hit him with her papers) face, but he managed. 

Barely. 

"You got my shirt wet you dick!"

"Here, switch it with this."  Gareth stood, unwrapping the red and black checkered sweater from his waist. He offered it up with an apologetic face as Tiff snatched it out of his hands with a glare. 

"I'll switch you seats too!" He called as she stormed off towards the bathroom. 

Jeff and Grant both stared at him with raised eyebrows as Gareth quickly shuffled his and Tiff's stuff around, taking her now sticky chair. 

"Maybe we should take a break?" He suggested, trying to act embarrassed when he was anything but. "This whole area needs to be wiped down."

"Five minutes." Eddie conceded. "I wanted one of Stevie's delicious cookies anyway." He stood, putting his arms up in a lazy stretch. 

Steve stood with him, leaning over to examine the mess Gareth had made. “We can wipe this down but this wood’s kinda funny, it’s gonna be wet for a bit no matter how much we dry it.” 

“Well shit.” Gareth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the table man.” 

Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, the kids spill on it constantly. You are probably going to need a different chair though unless you’re fine with your ass getting wet.” 

“Do you have another chair somewhere, Stevie?” Eddie asked, making a show of looking around. “Cause I’m not seeing one. Not that I care if Gary-Berry sits on the floor.” 

Steve had several extra chairs in fact, but he and Gareth had hidden them all away before anyone else had arrived. 

“I used to, but Mike broke two.” Steve said, and Gareth found himself insanely impressed by the improv on display. 

He hadn’t thought Harrington had that level of acting in him. 

“If you’re okay with sharing though, the chair’s are big enough that we can kinda squish together.” Steve continued, completely ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes about bugged out of his head. 

“Only if you’re sure, man. I don’t want to be more of a bother.” Gareth put on his saddest, ‘I dun fucked up’ face, and shuffled his feet a little, just for dramatic effect. 

This was the performance of a lifetime and Gareth wanted his Grammy after it, because he and Steve had planned the entire thing right down to the shared chair bit. 

“You’re not, Dustin does this constantly.” Steve replied easily. 

“Or we could just put down a towel.” Jeff said, with a look on his face that said he thought everyone in the room was a fucking idiot. 

Gareth could’ve strangled him. 

“That’s probably a smarter idea.” Steve agreed, like the traitor he was. “I dunno if that’s gonna work for your papers and shit though, so you can just hedge into my space.” 

Which wasn’t what Gareth wanted, but he had to give Steve props for the quick thinking. 

At least it was just a minor setback. 

“I’ll get a towel.” Jeff continued, and at least they all got to witness the look that graced Eddie’s face upon realizing that Jeff of all people, knew where Steve kept his towels. 

xXx

"What the hell else can we do to try and open the door!?" Jeff snarled a while later, slamming his pencil down. 

They'd tried multiple different approaches and so far nothing had worked to set off whatever trap Eddie had set up. Something that made their DM absolutely delighted, while frustrating everyone else. 

"I still don't get why we can't just try to turn the knob." Steve complained, staring in confusion at the absolute riot Eddie's "completely normal" door had caused among the rest of his party. 

"Do not touch that door Harrington!" Grant bellowed, pointing at him. 

Steve raised his hands in the air placatingly. "Easy, easy, I was just making a suggestion." 

Gareth, wedged as close into Steve's space as he could get, tapped his fingers on the table twice. It was the little code he’d come up with to alert Steve that he was about to do something to piss off Eddie related to the prank (mostly, so Steve had a heads up Gareth was about to touch him, not that Gareth had spun it that way when he’d explained it) before patting Steve’s shoulder, hooking his elbow on it and leaning over. “Not gonna lie man, it’s not a bad idea. We’ve tried right about everything else.” 

He could feel Eddie's eyes burning a hole in his skull from here and he delighted in it. 

“Do not encourage him.” Grant said through gritted teeth. 

Gareth leaned his face on the arm perched on Harrington, his hair tickling Steve’s cheek as he tried to look as angelic as possible. “I couldn’t possibly know what you mean, Grantman.” 

He was flipped off in response. 

xXx

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Stewart howled, and even Gareth’s jaw dropped when Steve finally gave in and tried to turn the knob--only to succeed and swing the door open. 

“Well Munson? What happens to him?” Tiff said, having refused to call Eddie anything but his last name since the door had first appeared. 

“Nothing.” Eddie practically purred. “I told you, it’s a totally normal door, and the only weird thing about it was that you recognized it and that it was put into the wall a little tilted.” 

“Fuck you dude.” Stewart practically growled, balling up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on and flinging it towards their DM. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck. You!” 

“No thank you.” Eddie replied cheekily, twirling a finger in his hair. 

“We spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to open a regular door.” Jeff said, clearly processing. “An hour.” 

Eddie just shrugged, shit eating grin plastered across his face. 

Gareth once again tapped his fingers twice against the table, waited a moment, before banging his head gently against Steve’s shoulder. “I hate him.” He groaned. 

After a long moment, Steve gently, if not a little awkwardly, patted him on the head. 

“There, there, Gary. We defeated the door in the end.” He said calmly. 

Gareth laughed, absolutely delighted. His head jerked up and a grin crossed his face as he immediately looked to see what Eddie made of that. 

Pure murder, going by the face Eddie poorly tried to cover. 

Perfect. 

xXx 

“With his last few moves, Sir Carrington-” 

"I refuse to let that be my character's name.” Steve interjected, as he had every time Eddie brought up the name they’d apparently argued over. “If I have to figure out how to change it legally in your dumb game I fucking will."  

Eddie didn’t even look in his direction. 

“--Sir Carrington leaps into the air, swinging the sword of truth. It cleaves right through the Innkeeper, revealing him to be the dastardly villain you’ve heard so much about, Tareth the Trait. He’s gained an unusual amount of power after stealing the Inn from the former Innkeeper--” 

“Really bro?” Gareth said, sending Eddie a flat look. “Tareth the Trait?” 

“--With this final blow, Tareth collapses to the ground, dead. The Inn returns to its prior form, a safe haven for adventurers, instead of a trap.” 

“Shut up guys, we did it!” Stewart said, throwing his hands up in a victory pose. 

“Not gonna Eddie, I liked the twist.” Tiff complimented, a rare thing from her. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Eddie stood up, sweeping an arm across his chest as he bowed. “Give yourselves a round of applause as well, especially for our dear Steven, who just completed his first D&D game!”

A cheer went up, causing Steve to flush red. 

Gareth pretending to drum, knocking his shoulder into Steve’s much the way he had seen Eddie do as Steve sent an embarrassed smile around the room. 

“We should celebrate.” Jeff said, as the chaos finally died down. 

“I conquer, Jeff the Chef!” Eddie hollered, putting his foot on Steve’s chair. “Stevie-boy, you gotta have some good stuff around here for those big basketball wins!” 

“Get your foot off the chair, Eds.” Steve groaned, but stood up (forcing Gareth to get up as well considering how far he’d been leaning into Steve’s space.) “And yeah we can order like pizza.” 

“Pizza and beer?” Grant suggested.

“Oh my friend. I can do better than that.” Steve replied, a flash of his old, charming self coming through. “Allow me to raid my father’s liquor cabinet.” 

“Hell yes!” Grant yelled, pumping his fist. 

Tiffany rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, and neither Gareth noted, did anyone else. 

Which was exactly what he wanted, because he hadn’t managed to land the perfect ending he and Harrington had planned. 

Gareth would make it into Steve’s lap tonight, even if it killed him.  

(Or worse, even if Eddie got there first, a thing that may very well happen considering Eddie was clearly annoyed with how Gareth had been hogging Steve. 

Just as intended.) 

SOME NOTES: I don't play d&d so writing it always requires a lot of research. Several pieces here (like the human fighter bit) are based off of/stolen from memes, videos or stories I read. If I fucked it up thaaaan idk squint and pretend its right LOL. 

This one doesn’t have a bonus because I had to split Chapter Five into two parts. This is Part One, it’ll be one chapter on A03.  It just kept going.

Also Adopt a Jock is officially going up ON A03 so I will no longer be accepting tags ( Ch. One is already uploaded I’m just struggling with the summary lol. I will make a post and link it to my pinned post when it’s up.) I will still be updating here since I am only updating chapters on A03 as fast as I can edit them, which is not fast at all, so I imagine the next few chaps will be here before there but eventually shits gonna even out, so those who did not get onto the tag list can subscribe to the A03!  

Finally, Sorry this took so long, I have a prior ongoing medical issue and getting laid off fucked up my insurance. Had to cram in some procedures before it ran out. Long story short all I've done is sleep, go to a doctor or rant about one of the two lmao. Legit slept 18 hours yesterday ahaha k i l l m e 

#this is more of an intro to lap wars than lap wars itself #but Part Two turns into Drunk Movie Night Sleepover Time so you bet your ASS lap wars is coming #Gareth continues to be both a gremlin #and a g #steddie #pre steddie #slow burn #steddie LOL #gareth emerson #Eddie Munson #steve harrington #0o0 fanfics #this chapter fought me #ngl I actually extended this whole fic out bc I wanted to write more hellfire shenanagins before the summer hit #and thus Robin and the S3 plot that I'll be messing up LOL

[crimeboys]

underrated part of ho16

#text post #mine #rereading part of it for this fic im writing and this just made me laugh so hard #Wilbur I don't want your van.

[playername-player-of-games]

More of @chrisrin‘s gemcyt au :D part 2 to this!

//

Earth is…different.

It’s been raining for three days, (at least that’s what Etho called it, back when they landed). Three days of rain, no light from this system’s sun. Outside is reflecting how he feels inside, gray and storming and he’s-

He’s never going to see his diamond again.

It’s fine. That’s fine. He doesn’t think about it. He can’t think about it, not when it makes him feel like he’s raining.

He’s thinking about it.

She was beautiful, graceful- let him speak and laughed at his jokes. She complimented his fighting, thanked him when he helped her with even the smallest things- things he shouldn’t have been thanked for, in all honesty, like opening doors, or turning off the lights.

Stars, he’s really never going to see her again.

He curls further into himself. He’d reformed with a hooded cloak this time, the desire to hide manifesting physically as soon as he’d Reformed on the ship. He’d had to Reform twice, the first he did himself, without Etho saying he could. He’d been poofed immediately and whisked back into a drawer for what felt like centuries.

After they made it outside, he was allowed to Reform after the ship took off again. Etho said his hair turned black.

He doesn’t know what Etho’s talking about. He can see it, when he looks up at his fringe. It’s a darker green now.

It doesn’t matter. He’s never going to see his diamond again.

“Pearl?” Etho sing songs, footsteps crunching across the dirt of the kindergarten, “Peaaarl, you in here?”

Pearl stuck himself into one of the many gem-shaped holes in the wall, pressed as far back as he could manage, grateful his cloak is dark enough to blend in with the walls, “Go away, Etho.”

“I brought some friends,” Etho says, his face popping into view as he leans over the opening, setting down an oil lamp to light up the space, “you up for some chitchat?”

Pearl tugs his hood down. “Not really.”

“They’re nice, I promise,” Etho assures him, “they’re some of Impulse’s friends! Impulse was nice, right?”

“I guess.”

Impulse was nice, Etho’s right. Their little tour of Earth’s Gem Base had been brief but informative, with a few landmarks. Impulse’s forge. A warp pad. A crash site. Then Pearl got overwhelmed and ran, warping at random and landing in a kindergarten. Nobody came after him.

Until now.

“Do you wanna come out?” Etho asks.

“Not really.”

Etho laughs, “fair enough,” and disappears.

New footsteps- Pearl catches a flash of green and blue outside.

“I brought an aquamarine and a peridot,” Etho explains, voice louder now that he’s further away from the opening, “Grian and Mumbo. They want to talk to you about stuff.”

“Goodie.”

Etho bids him goodbye, and leaves. Then the aquamarine pushes his way into the hole, with a wide, one-eyed grin. There’s more than enough room for the two of them and all the rain water he’s bringing in here, but Pearl curls further into himself anyway.

“You’re Pink Diamond’s pearl,” remarks the aquamarine.

Pearl bristles, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

The aquamarine waves him off, “specifics don’t matter. All that matters is whether or not you’d like to overthrow the diamonds.”

Pearl freezes.

“Grian!” The peridot- Mumbo- scolds, “you can’t just say that!”

“Well, why not?” Grian turns around, his wings nearly whacking Pearl in the face, “it’s not like he can say no, if he goes back to Homeworld he’ll be shattered.”

They dissolve into bickering. Pearl doesn’t care. He can’t hear them.

Overthrow the diamonds.

It’s treason. Rebellion. He’s suddenly connecting dots he didn’t realize were there- the crash site. A hidden warp pad. So, so many mismatched gems living together in an uncharted, unregulated base. Not being allowed to Reform on the ship.

Oh stars- what has he gotten himself into?

The aquamarine yelps and disappears with a poof- Mumbo catches him, flustered when Pearl rushes past him, sword in hand, back to the warp pad, back to the warp, to warp, warp warp warp warp warp-

A blinding flash of light- he stumbles off the pad and falls to his knees.

Rebellion. Treason.

If he goes back to Homeworld, he’ll be shattered.

He’s being shattered right now, he thinks- that’s the only way he can think to explain this feeling. He’s being crushed, turned inside out, trying to reform in a place that’s too small. He shouldn’t be here- he’s raining- he should have stayed on Homeworld, should have let himself be-

Someone is humming.

He freezes. He’s good at this- disappearing into the background. He’s nothing. An accessory, a set piece.

He lifts his head.

They’re hovering over a lake (he hadn’t realized he’d warped to a lake), twisting in a way that looks like a dance, something bright and cloud-like in their arms. Something about their posture is familiar- friendly. Pearl pushes himself to his feet- his knees trembling, and forces himself forward.

One foot in front of the other. He makes out features- wings made of water. A bouquet of roses and sunflowers and little red things. Too big to be an aquamarine- a lapis? His gem a little to the left of where Pearl’s is, on his chest, right over where a human heart would be.

His humming has turned to singing. Pearl stops on the bank- he knows this lapis. This was one of the messengers, they used to talk all the time.

What is he doing on Earth?

The lapis bends over, dropping petals into the water, and notices Pearl with barely more than a glance.

“Oh, hello! You’re n-” he does a double take, eyes wide, his smile fond and familiar as if he remembers Pearl too, “you’re Pink Diamond’s pearl!”

This is the same lapis. The one he used to tease and trip in the hallways. They’d salute to each other- then to their diamond- then drop form and laugh. They made jokes- they called each other names and playful insults and make faces at each other when the diamonds weren’t looking. This lapis is- is like home, even after he disappeared for a hundred years without explanation- and he’s here right in front of him. Pearl feels like he’s being shattered all over again.

“Was,” he corrects, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

Lapis comes to hover in front of him, holding his bouquet. Pearl does not meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I uhm-” Pearl pulls his hood down over his eyes, “I fused with her.”

“Oh.”

Raindrops drip down his cheeks- he reaches up to wipe them away, turns his head to the sky and wonders how they’re getting on him if his hood is up. The sky is clear. Lapis lands in front of him, wings disappearing, his mouth a worried line.

“Why is it raining on my face?” Pearl whispers.

Lapis smiles, quiet, warm, and gently pulls Pearl’s hood down to rest on his shoulders, “you’re crying.”

Pearl sniffles, “what does that mean?”

“It means your eyes are making rain on your face,” he explains, still gentle. He tucks a little yellow rose over Pearl’s ear.

“How do I make it stop?”

“It’ll stop on its own, eventually.”

Pearl wipes his eyes on his sleeves. He feels exposed without his hood.

“Lapis-“

“Jimmy.”

Pearl makes a face, “what?”

“My name is Jimmy.”

Pearl scoffs, furiously wiping his eyes again, “what is with you Earth gems and your weird names.”

Jimmy laughs, moving to sit next to Pearl and tugging him down with him, “who have you met?”

“Impulse,” Pearl says, “which sounds dumb, and Mumbo, which sounds dumber, and Grian which sounds like grain!”

Jimmy laughs and nods again, “that’s us.”

“Stupid,” Pearl snaps. He needs his eyes to stop raining now.

“Would you like an earth name?” Jimmy asks, and Pearl scoffs at him again.

His first thought is no, he doesn’t want one. But then he remembers treason, and he remembers rebellion, and he remembers that he’ll be shattered if he goes back to Homeworld, and he thinks of making fun of long winded messages from important gems and making faces at each other behind the Diamond’s backs.

Surely naming himself isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Maybe.”

“Go on then,” Jimmy says, nudging him with his shoulder. “There’s lots of things to choose from.”

And there are a lot of things to choose from.

He likes the J from Jimmy’s name- it’s a good sounds- he just doesn’t know what comes after it. He looks around for inspiration. Jake isnt right. Jloud sounds weird, and so does Jeaf.

He takes a rose from Jimmy’s bouquet and twirls it around in his fingers- he can’t name himself Jasper, even though he’s off color he wouldn’t ever name himself after another gem. He can’t call himself Jimmy either, because then he’d be naming himself Pearl all over again and that’d just lead to problems.

He thinks further back- Impulse was showing him something at camp. Barrels of something called oil- the stuff in the lamp. Stuff for cooking. It’s stuff that helps other stuff work like it’s supposed to. He figures that’s a good a thing as any.

“Joil.”

“Joil?” Jimmy dissolves into laughter.

“Wha- hey, it’s not like it’s better than Jimmy!”

“No, no, it’s worse!”

Pearl growls at him, trying to be upset, but the way Jimmy is doubled over, cracking up, makes it hard to keep a smile off his face.

“Oh-kay, it’s bad,” he admits, trying and failing in the not laughing department, “but do you have a better idea, oh great Jim?”

“Maybe,” Jimmy straightens, smiling wide, “‘Joil’s’ a bit awkward to say, is all. Why not try Joel?”

He’s gotta admit that is easier to say.

“That’s fine,” Joel says. “You can call me that.”

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Joel,” Jimmy says, ever smiling, “welcome to Earth.”

#there’s gonna be a part 3 and then I’ll be done for a while probably #this is such a fun au !! I’m going on the hunt for other peoples fics now :3 #Joel is goin through it. the next one will be fun lol #gemcyt #sorry for two pings in one day waugh I saw an ask u answered where u wanted to be mentioned if someone writes a fic?? so. uh #hiii. sorry. don’t mind me sksjdjd

[saccharineomens]

well, I was thinking about Falin and Chilchuck teaching Laios how to do Marcille’s hair, and then it turned into a spontaneous fic. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Spoilers for the ending of Dungeon Meshi. (<700 words)

—

“No, I think it looked a little more like this.” A pen scribbled against the parchment.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, just pull it a little tighter.”

Chilchuck tugged on the blonde locks until they were snug against Marcille’s skull. 

“Yeah! That’s it!” Falin clapped in delight, and Chilchuck leaned back with a smug smile.

“There. Laios, you see? Easy. Now you try.” Chilchuck pulled the ties loose from the braids, and the entire hairdo collapsed. Marcille shook her head to get some of the wisps out of her eyesight, then turned the next page of her book.

A large presence settled behind her, and Marcille could feel his uncertain hesitation. “Don’t forget the comb, Laios,” Falin piped up.

“Ah, right.” A pause, and then a moment later Marcille could feel Laios’ hands awkwardly pick up her hair. He handled it like he would a newborn, anxious and delicate, but the way his sweaty palms would occasionally snag on her hair became too distracting for her to keep reading. 

“You don’t have to be *that* gentle about it,” Marcille said, closing the book and setting it on her lap. “Just treat it like you would if you were healing somebody. Be practical.”

Chilchuck groused from where he observed a few feet away. “You better pick this up quick, Laios, I’m leaving for Kahka Brud next week.” 

“Neither Chilchuck nor I will be able to help Marcille with her hair,” Falin said, her tone still soothingly soft despite the agitation of everyone else in the room, “so it’ll have to be you.”

Marcille flinched with a sound of surprise when Laios tugged her head sharply to one side. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, freezing up.

“It’s fine,” Marcille sighed, turning her attention to the paintings adorning the walls. She just had to be patient. This hair was getting to be more trouble than it was worth.

It felt like just a few minutes more before Laios’ hands left her, and she turned to see his arms pulled tight to his body in defeat, a grimace on his face like a student watching to see if their dungeonium survived the teacher’s grade. “That good?”

Falin and Chilchuck tilted their heads simultaneously, giving small hums of consideration. Chilchuck heaved a sigh and shook his head, and offered a hand mirror to Marcille. “Look for yourself. What do you think, Marcille?”

Marcille held the mirror up and moved her head left to right, searching for a feeling to rise in response. Satisfaction? Apprehension? She thought, and considered, and hoped, but all that answered her was an inky black nothingness in her stomach. “I don’t know,” she said. Hollow. She used to feel something there, when she looked at her hair. A sense of comfort, and a sense of pride. Her hair was like her mother’s, it connected them. And now all she could feel was…nothing.

Lowering the mirror revealed Laios’ face struck with despair, and she stammered. “Uh, I mean,” she raised the mirror again. “It’s a little…crooked?” Was that a good word to use? “It looks nice!”

“Here,” Chilchuck offered, reaching up, and Marcille turned her head toward his hands. He gripped the end of her hair and tugged on the tie holding it together. “If you take care to make sure all the strands get into the braid, it’ll look less sloppy.” The comb pulled through her loose locks again, and Marcille sighed. This all seemed like such a hassle.

“I could just cut it off, you know,” she said. “Falin has short hair! Lots of mages do!”

“No!” Laios exclaimed. “You love your hair! I mean, you used to! I’m sure if we get this right it won’t interfere with the way it helps your magic, like you said it would.”

“There are other ways to meditate,” Marcille mumbled.

“I’ll get this right. I *will*.” Laios’ voice was firm and stubborn. “Falin and Chilchuck are even drawing me instructions! I won’t waste their efforts!”

Marcille turned back around and picked up her book again, “Alright, have it your way.”

The tie pulled free from her scalp, and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders once more.

#When was the last time I wrote fic that wasn’t for my ocs???? #Dungeon meshi #dunmesh #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmesh spoilers #marcille donato #laios touden #falin touden #chilchuck tims #dm laios #dm marcille #Dm chilchuck #dm falin #My writing #laimar #.........lbr this is part of a long slowburn laimar fic i want to write. let me cook #Op

[ghoulangerlee]

hm hm hm what about spread your legs baby from the prompt list with raindrop (they’re forever plaguing me) but another pairing also works if they make you more inspired :3

i've actually never written raindrop before so this will be my first time :) I won't bore you with background lore I've created for my version of Rain but he doesn't speak and I don't generally classify him as mute because of his nature (shark water ghoul). he typically communicates via the bond he has with the others and sometimes body language (he's very expressive).

for ref: rain also has non-human genitalia, though I don't really go into too much detail with this but, it's there :)

content warnings: biting and brief mention of blood, Rain is at the core of everything a predator and he does get a little in his head sometimes.

-

With a soft oof, Dew's pushed up against one of the walls in his bedroom, his head falling back as Rain's body cages him in, hands finding purchase on Rain's hips, dragging him in as close as he can.

"Yeah," Dew sighs out, baring his throat to the sting of Rain's teeth, he's not quite fully glamoured anymore, his claws leaving indents in the wall beside Dew's head, his teeth sharp and dangerous--his senses dialed up to the way Dew's pulse hammers heavily, his blood pumping hotly through his veins.

He smells divine, the mixture of Dew's arousal and his blood, just under the surface, just under where Rain's tongue is laving against the side of his throat and it drives Rain a bit crazy, it makes him want to bite until he's able to taste properly.

"Easy there, big guy," Dew says, a little breathless, and Rain realizes he'd been projecting his thoughts a little too far beyond his own mind--he'd been projecting them into Dew's as well, through their bond that's singing with both want and Rain's inherent need to have Dew right now.

He pulls back and for a moment, just mouths over Dew's pulse, a sort of apology, but not really, because seconds later, he introduces teeth again, nipping at the delicate skin until a bruise blooms; his teeth making small bloody indents.

Dew laughs softly, the sound turning into a low, rumbling purr as Rain continues to trail open mouthed, stinging kisses across his collarbone--there'll be marks later, visible, mouth shaped ones that may ooze a little bit of blood if Dew presses too hard, if his clothes rub against them accidentally, but he doesn't mind it--he's proud of the marks Rain leaves behind, the solid claim of his.

Can I?

Rain's voice is loud in his mind, a distortion of sorts and Dew laughs again, his hand leaving Rain's warm skin to grab at his wrist, pulling it down until he can shove it under his shirt, letting Rain's palm spread across the width of his ribs, "Baby, you're being so sweet tonight for someone who wants to mark me up until I'm oozing your scent," he coos, a gasp leaving his mouth when the sharp point of Rain's nails catch against his skin, "'m not going anywhere, you get me however you want me."

Rain noses just under the hinge of Dew's jaw, pressing a soft kiss there before working further up, nosing just under his ear, breathing heavily against his earlobe as he presses another kiss there, his teeth catching just barely as he pulls back to look Dew in the eye, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Oh?" Dew says to the silent question, "Are you going to have me here against the wall then?" he asks, wiggling enticingly under the weight of Rain's body, grinding his hard cock against Rain's thigh.

Rain just purses his lips and leans down to slot their mouths together as the fire ghoul clutches at him again, one hand going to his hair to hold him in place as they kiss.

Dew's tongue accidentally catches against one of Rain's sharp teeth, the taste of blood and brimstone blooming across Rain's senses, his mind going hazy for a moment as he chases it, licking into Dew's mouth, pressing him back into the wall.

Dew's hands push against Rain's shoulders after a few moments, biting at Rain's insistent tongue before turning his head away from the kiss, "Easy," he murmurs with a sigh as Rain mouths an apology against his jaw.

Bed?

Rain's voice once again echoes in Dew's mind and he grins down at him, his teeth sharp and dangerous looking and such a contrast to the somewhat shy look in Rain's eyes, like he hadn't almost lost control from just a small taste of blood. Dew just shakes his head, fond and entirely too in love with him to respond, using Rain's momentary distraction to worm his way away from the wall, pushing at the taller ghoul's shoulders until he's stepping backwards.

"Since you put such a nice image in my mind," Dew teases him, his hands dropping down to rest on Rain's hips again as he guides him backwards, further into the room and away from the wall and the door, all the while Rain burns images of what he wants to do to Dew and what he wants Dew to do to him in his mind.

"Insatiable," Dew murmurs when he's got Rain almost to the bed, backing him up until the backs of his knees are at the edge of the mattress, "You're really pulling out all the stops today, huh?" he asks, rhetorical, even as he can see the way Rain looks satisfied, like he's preening at getting to Dew so easily.

"Horrible," Dew says with no bite to it as he leans up to kiss Rain again, squeezing his waist tightly, projecting his own idea of finger shaped bruises across Rain's hips, telling a story to anyone who'd get a look at them, peeking up over the waist of whatever pants he chooses to wear.

Rain's teeth catch at Dew's lip this time, feeling frenzied for a whole different reason, but it doesn't break the skin, just makes Dew jerk against him and grind into his thigh.

"Enough, enough," Dew mumbles, slides both of his palms up Rain's stomach until they're resting over his chest, skin warm, his heart beating heavily, steadily under them before he pushes, hard, sending Rain sprawling back onto the bed.

And well, Rain is entirely too aroused to do anything other than lay there, stare up at Dew with heavy, glowing eyes as Dew strips his shirt off and unbuttons his jeans, waving a hand at him, "Come on, Rainy, get naked for me, let me see you," he says, wiggling his own jeans down over his hips, along with his underwear.

Rain's eyes are drawn to Dew's dick, curving up against his belly and his mouth waters as he stares, knows that he'd have to ditch the sharp teeth to get his mouth on Dew and thinks, somewhat deliriously that he's not sure he could glamour enough to get rid of his teeth right now.

"Chop, chop, babe," Dew says, breaking him from his thoughts and Rain's quick to scramble his own pants off, fumbling with the button and the zip and pushing them off, bare under them.

A whistle, low and teasing, "Look at you," Dew says as he steps forward to plant a knee on the foot of the bed, "Spread your legs, baby," he murmurs, eyes drawn to where the head of Rain's own cock, shiny with a pearly, translucent substance peeks out from between his slit.

Rain, unable to do anything other than obey does, delighting in the pleased smile on Dew's face, finally climbing onto the bed properly before he crowds his way between Rain's spread thighs.

"Think we should do that thing you mentioned earlier," Dew murmurs, settling back on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock to steady it as he leans forward, nudging the head of his cock against Rain's.

Almost immediately, Rain projects the image of Dew fucking into his slit, just the tip of his cock pushing past it, a tight fit with his own snug inside there already, barely peeking out whenever Dew pulls out just enough to thrust back in.

"Yeah," Dew says, breathless, "That one."

In his mind, Dew hears musical laughter and Rain's hands cupping the side of his face as he sits up a bit, pulling him into another, deep and all encompassing kiss.

#raindrop #the band ghost fic #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #part of me wants to mark this mature but i want it to be seen ): #so...yeah. #my writing

[suudonym]

The very suggestion, though, was enough to change Asmodeus’s expression, to turn his confusion to indignation, to insult and to hurt. It was an expression that wanted for rebuttal, that denied what he had heard and promised to accept any explanation that would refute it.

because I enjoy drawing pain and misery just as much as I enjoy writing about it, I picked another scene from a little more like hell to have fun with

#a part of me wants to do an illustration for each chapter #and another part knows that I am a FOOL full of too much ambition and too little do-power #there's also a third part that's feeling embarrassed about shilling my own fic too much so that's also a factor #mairimashita! iruma kun #own artwork #own writing

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The next few days were peaceful. The kind of peaceful Lucifer hadn't experienced since the Hotel was in the process of being rebuilt. He hadn't realized how much stress Alastor was causing him until he backed off.

Lucifer might even have gotten a full nights sleep last night! That hadn't happened in an especially long time!

(He wasn't thinking about the fact that his sleep had been haunted by the caress of teeth along his neck or glimpses of red, red sated eyes.)

The images threatened to steal his attention, even as he tried to bury them down with all the other things he was refusing to think about at this point. He forced himself to pay attention, tuning in as Charlie said, excitedly, "She's already spending half her time here! It's really only a matter of time before she agrees to join us full time!"

The campaign to get Cherri Bomb to join the Hazbin Hotel had been having mixed results since the fight with Adam and her participating in the rebuilding. She was clearly here mostly for Angel, but it seemed that the other denizens of the hotel were growing on her. Charlie was correct in that the cyclops spent just as much time at the hotel as she did were ever else she landed when she wasn't with them. She even had a room of her own, even if she didn't officially claim it. It definitely helped it was right next door to her best friend.

Lucifer patted her shoulder. "She'll come around in her own time. Remember, for this to work, they have to actually want it."

Charlie placed her hand over her father's, biting her lip and near bursting with excitement. "I know, but it just feels like we're so close! It'll be so great when she agrees."

"Yes, but in the meantime, we'll just continue to make her feel welcome." He smiled at her proudly. "Which you're already doing so well at!"

Charlie's returned the smile, pleased with his feedback.

The moment, like so often when one lives in Hell, was suddenly and abruptly interrupted by the entire building shaking.

Angel appeared on the landing of the second floor, the one that overlooked the main entrance and foyer. "What the hell? We haven't had any shady guests lately, have we?"

Alastor stepped out of the shadows near the entrance, a loud boom ringing out as something large and heavy hit the door.

Lucifer was suddenly glad he had reinforced the structure. It wasn't impossible that someone could break in through brute force, especially if someone was extremely determined, but the sheer effort would give the hotel guests ample time to mount a defense.

Loud shouting came from outside, words unintelligible through the thickness of it. Alastor ignored the hostile aura premating from outside as if he couldn't even feel it, throwing open the door.

"Oh my, you are quite annoying," he greeted the group at their door. The two fellas up front, stooges and the muscle by the look of them, were holding a large battering ram. Alastor eyed it distastefully. "Whatever business could you have with us that is worth all this racket?"

A nervous looking demon cleared his throat, unwisely drawing the Radio Demon's full attention. "We." He swallowed, complexion growing paler the longer Alastor stared at him. In a rush, he stated, "We were sent here to send a message!"

The radio host tilted his head to the side. "Message?"

The group glanced at each other, clearly psyching themselves up. Nodding, the 'leader' proclaimed, "Yeah, 'give up this shitty mission, or else.'"

"Or else what?"

The group collectively drew their weapons, an assortment of guns and knives. "Or else we're going to have to use force."

The widening of Alastor's grin should have been a warning. Lucifer would have felt bad for the little idiots for not seeing the flaming pile of shit they had just stepped in, but they were in the process of threatening his daughter and that was just a big no go for him.

"Oh, you really don't want to do that." Lucifer came up to stand beside Alastor, hands coming up in a shooing motion. "Like, seriously. Go back to whoever sent you and tell them they don't get a second warning."

The leader blinked down at him. He must have been new to Hell, because he asked, "And who are you?"

"Oh, little ol' me?" Lucifer's wings and horns appeared in all their full glory. "I'm the Devil, bitches."

The group barely had time to do little more than gape before they were sent tumbling arse over head from a powerful gust of wind, curtesy of the before mentioned wings. Fully prepared to rough them up a little before sending them on their way, Lucifer stepped out of the hotel.

Only to be halted by something wrapping around his waist. He glanced down at what appeared to be a shadow about the thickness of a vine. Now, where had that come from?

"Now, now, your Majesty, that won't do."

Ah, yes. Of course, it was one of Alastor's shadow tentacle things.

"Oi! Put me down!" The blond protested as he was picked up and then deposited on one of the second floor balconies.

Alastor didn't bother looking back at him. His tone was that of a parent talking to a particularly petulant child as he ordered, "Why don't you stay up there for a bit? There's really no need for you to get involved."

Lucifer had half a mind to take not just the goons out, but Alastor as well, but ultimately decided to let the Radio Demon have his fun. Besides, he was looking a little peckish lately. "Just leave one alive so they can tell their boss to back off!"

Down below, Charlie chimed in with, "Or we could leave all of them alive?"

Alastor near cackled as he grew in size, the invaders suddenly realizing they were in serious danger and attempting to make a run for it. Shadow creatures began to rise out of the ground, breaking off their get away. "Nonesense!" Alastor disagreed cheerfully. "Everyone mysteriously disappearing is a much more delicious way of keeping people on their feet!"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Oh, he bet it was 'delicious.'

A noise behind him drew his attention. Lucifer looked over his shoulder, finding himself eye to eye with a wolf demon he'd never seen a day in his life. Especially not one that had no business sneaking into the hotel with a knife he was clearly intending to use.

They started at each other for a long moment. The guy must have been an idiot, because he apparently decided he wanted to take his chances and attempt to stab the King of Hell himself.

Lucifer reached up, fully intending to catch the blade. Under normal circumstances, weapons made in Hell couldn't hurt him and would have just shattered on contact.

But this blade wasn't just an ordinary blade made it Hell. Lucifer realized it must have been made from Angelic Steel when the knife cut straight through his hand like a hot knife through butter. He winced, despite himself. Somehow, he'd forgotten how much that could hurt.

The wolf demon made the mistake of not pressing his advantage, seeming to think that the pain of something as simple as a knife through the hand would be enough to make the first being to ever lead a rebellion against a real army to pause. Oh no, all it did was infuriate him.

Lucifer pressed his hand down the knife further, allowing him to take hold of the hilt. The demon's grip went slack with shock, allowing the blond to wretch it out of his hand. With his good hand, Lucifer yanked the offensive object out, carelessly tossing it onto one of the other neighboring balconies, where it would be of little use during this battle and could be retrieved later. "Oh, that was a very poor decision." Giving no quarter, he darted forward to wrap his hand around the demon's throat, wings flapping to give him the hieght to do so. "Tell me why you're up here, before I decide to be rid of you regardless."

The wolf grunted, hands clawing uselessly at his arm. He managed to choke out, "Like we said: we're just here to send a message."

Lucifer looked down at where Alastor was rounding up the last couple of stragglers, tossing a third into his mouth. The little nervous demon from before appeared to have peed himself from fright. The seraphim turned back to his captive. Something told him that those boo zoos were a mere distraction and this was the real leader of the group. Shaking him a little, Lucifer demanded, "Who sent you?"

A sneer came in response. "We're just for hire. We get a call and we do the job, no questions asked."

Lucifer realized he wasn't going to get anything of use out of this guy. And since he was likely the only real threat of the group, the blond didn't feel comfortable letting him be the return messenger.

A beat of his wings had them air born, bringing them to hover over Alastor, who's ears perked up as he realized he was about to get another morsel. "Whelp, in that case, it sounds like you're useless to me. Guess I'll just hand you over to the Alastor--"

"W-wait!" The wolf demon frantically choked out, "Isn't this p-place for s-second chances! Your d-daughter believes in that s-shit, doesn't she?"

Lucifer's eyes narrowed. "You're right. My daughter does have a gift for seeing the best in people, even when there isn't any. But me? My curse is that I'm damned to always see the worst in all of you." Between one blink to the next, he let his form bleed into it's most demonic, hellfire igniting and his broken halo taking form as the true crown of Hell manifested. His True Eyes opened along his coat, Seeing right through this worthless soul and all of his sins. "Tell me, honestly, do you regret, even a little, for pushing Elizabeth in front of that train? Did you care in the least that her husband only had a handful of voicemails to remember her voice by? That her son grew up without any memories of his own mother?"

The wolf demon gasped for breathe, eyes wild. "The- the reporter? I had to kill her." He squirmed and yanked to no avail, Lucifer's hand like steel around his neck. Frantically, he added, "She was no-no one! She- she was going to ruin everything!"

Lucifer sneered. "Wrong answer."

Without hesitation, he opened his fist. The wolf demon shrieked as he fell, the shrill sound abruptly cutting off as Alastor closed his mouth around his treat.

The nervous little demon, perhaps smarter than they gave him credit for, took advantage of the distraction to make his get away. Alastor let him in favor of watching his king, eyes alight and calculating.

Lucifer hovered above him, every one of his eyes trained on the sinner below him. He realized that while he had seen Alastor in his full eldritch form during their first meeting, this would be the first time Alastor was seeing him in his own full demonic form.

Alastor, like in every aspect of his life, neither blinked nor cowered. He brought up a hand, the motion that puppet slowness he'd showed when Lucifer had manifested the pair of deer ears. He brought it up until it hovered just below the Devil's feet.

Lucifer squinted at him, not trusting that if he let himself land in Alastor's hand, the latter wouldn't just drop him out of spite.

He never found out either way, as he became distracted by Charlie's alarmed shout of "Oh my goodness, Dad!"

Alarmed, Lucifer spun around, his demonic features melting away into his normal appearance. "Charlie? What's wrong?" He came down to land in front of her, reaching out to make certain nothing had gotten past them to hurt her. "Are you okay?"

Charlie grabbed onto his hand, causing him to wince. Horrified, she cried out, "Forget me! Your hand is hurt." She hissed as she assessed the full extent of the damage. "Oh shit, it went all the way through!" She twisted around to shout back at the other behind her. "Vaggie! Bandages!"

Lucifer held up his free hand. "It's fine, sweetie, really. It'll heal up in no time. Really, I'd be more worried about any survivors. Alastor is way too enthusiastic for a guard dog." He glanced over his shoulder at Alastor, who had shrunk down to his normal size. Lucifer caught a glimpse of a gold coated tongue past the the hand the red head had up to his mouth. Lucifer found himself reassessing if Alastor had been offering him a hand after all or if he had just been taking the opportunity to get another taste of angel blood.

Judging by the pleased look on the deer demon's face, and the fact that he was letting 'guard dog' comment slide, it was most likely the latter.

And this was why Lucifer had trust issues when it came to this little shit.

Charlie tugged him towards the inside of the hotel, saying something about bandaging his hand. He was forced to break eye contact with his rival or keep his daughter from carrying on with his fretting. Really, it was all too much. It would take longer than the usual for injury to heal - the scar would barely be noticeable in a few days! - there was really no need for all this fussing! He even tried to say as such, which turned out to be a bad idea, because now Charlie was making sad eyes at him and really he was just going to be quiet and let her do her thing because it was so much better than her crying.

In the mess of the clean-up, Lucifer completely forgot about the angelic blade.

tbc

Part 5

#radioapple #appleradio #alastor #lucifer morningstar #deer lucifer fic #deer lucifer who is not actually appearing in this chapter #we needed some team building between lucifer and alastor #it'll be worth it all later #this chapter might have been inspired by the malificent movie #i just mostly wanted to write out the scene with lucifer in full demon form #so sue me #and wild plot appears! #its largely there to keep these two idiots interacting #we'll see where this goes #deer lucifer may be back in part five or six #likely six

[flowercrowngods]

i’ve decided to send an ask for each story you posted in the wip game kdnehdhs who did this to you? lives rent free in my brain 💛💛 (@a-little-unsteddie)

thank you so much 🥰🤍 still slowly working my way through the asks, so have a few more words to make up for the wait 🫶

who did this to you (pt.4) // tales of blue part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on ao3 🌷 preceding snippet no 1. | no. 2

Finally, finally, the familiar sound of Wayne‘s old truck rounding the corner into the trailer park interrupts the tense silence that seems to have fallen over all of Forest Hills tonight, and Eddie has half a mind to run out there, run toward them and get the whole story. Just to be sure that everything is fine. Just to be sure that Steve’s still… That he’s still there.

He stays right where he is, though, staring at Buckley‘s wild hair, feeling her shadow walk over him as Wayne pulls up to their driveway and stops. She is right in the centre of the headlights, but still she doesn’t move. Eddie wants to scream at her. Wants to nudge her and shove her out of the way — imagines it, imagines all the alternate universes in which he finds her wide eyes scared and unseeing as Wayne‘s voice sounds behind them, telling them that Steve didn’t make it.

Except in this one, Wayne said they’re coming home. In this one, shit like that doesn’t happen to eighteen year-old boys and their friends.

Aside from that girl. Barbara Holland.

Eddie swallows, his eyes flitting between bright lights to the silhouette of Buckley right in their centre. Like a doe, he thinks. Terrified of what she’ll find.

Don’t you wanna know? Eddie wants to ask her. Don’t you wanna see? What are you afraid of? What did you see? Who is he, Robin, and who are you? Why the fuck won’t you move?

In the end, it is the sound of a car door slamming shut that snaps Buckley out of her stupor, and she all but flies off the steps towards the truck. Towards where Eddie can vaguely make out the shape of a badly bruised face, the play of light and darkness not enough to conceal the deep purple splotches or the sluggishness of his movements as he raises his head. Turning toward Buckley like a flower to the sun.

She presses her hand to the window for a second, just looking at him — and Eddie is glad he can’t see either of their faces. He has a feeling that what he’d see there would haunt him forever.

#steddie fic #steddie #who did this to you #who did this to you part 4 #make me write ask game #i don’t. i don’t know why this is suddenly so dark. but maybe it’s because eddie‘s not important anymore #and he knows. but he wants to crawl his way back to being in the situation just as badly as he wants to run from it #and i think that’s just. scary. petrifying. he doesn’t need to be brave now he doesn’t need to be strong for anyone. #because robin and steve have each other now and he knows snd its fine bc he doesn’t know them yknow but. #i also think eddie just wants to sit on the floor again and not be part of anything. and at the same time take care of these two. #he also wants a hug. needs one. deserves one. and wayne will provide don’t worry. but eddie’s sorta dissociated from the situation now #and that’s the worst thing that can happen to anyone who’s telling a story yknow. well anyway. sorry jfjfjdhdh shutting up now

[caelanglang]

Dazai and Chuuya’s relationship across alternate universes (part 2)

once more it’s me doing style and coloring exploration with soukoku as my muses once more, thank yall for the kind words from part one they gave me a lot of strength and motivation for part two <3

.

In an alternate universe they are…

Powerful cultivators from the Port Mafia sect: the Young Master, Dazai Osamu, and his right hand man Gravity Cultivator, Nakahara Chuuya. But after Nakahara’s sudden disappearance, and Dazai turning into the first ever demonic cultivator, the whole sect fell into chaos. Banished from the realm of martial arts, the grandmaster of demonic cultivation and his demonic familiar now wander across the five realms as cultivation partners known as Double Black. (Danmei cultivator setting level of angst and adventure)

“You can’t… you can’t be with me, the demonic energy around me is too much for a human body… you can’t stay with me, Dazai.”

“Chuuya, we both know that I’m way too inhuman to be affected by your energy.”

“Dammit, Dazai! Thanks to the cursed blood running in my veins— I am now at the brink of awakening into a mindless demon, and you’re still here prattling about your nonsense! Your body is just as fragile as a mortal one— no cultivator has ever withstood a demonic awakening!”

“Then I’ll just have to be the first one.” The bandaged man grinned smugly, as if he were talking about being the victor of a competition. “I’ll be the first ever demonic cultivator of the realm and turn you into my dog familiar!”

“You’ll get yourself banished, young master.” The fiery-haired man spat out the last words like venom in his mouth. They both know the weight of those words. “The whole realm will turn against you.”

“I’ll get us banished, and the whole realm will turn against me and my dog.” Dazai corrected. “Which is perfect to me because annoying you will always be better than dealing with the responsibilities those self-righteous cultivators always throw at me.”

They both looked at each other for a moment; a tense silence hung in the air that was only broken by a defeated sigh. “I’m never getting rid of you now, am I…”

The bandaged face cracks into a sincere smile. “Never.”

.

In another,

They were once roommates and academic rivals in law school. Bringing such enmity to their careers as professional lawyers, their court sessions would always shake the entire courthouse. Everyone knows how much Prosecutor Nakahara Chuuya, the guard dog of justice, hates Defense Attorney Dazai Osamu, the demon prodigy who would do anything to get a not guilty verdict. But only Chuuya knows that after the death of Dazai’s friend, Detective Oda Sakunosuke, during the Mimic Case he was handling, something about Dazai had changed. He no longer took up clients who were guilty; no longer forged evidence or bribed officials. Instead, he took up innocent clients that seemed too impossible to defend; he took the side that truly saves people. And deep down they both knew that they were partners in the pursuit of the truth with every case they took. (Whoooop it’s the ace attorney au for me)

“Chuuuuyyyaaaaaa~”

“What do you want from me, you bandage-waste-of-space?”

“I want you to take up the Weretiger Case.” A pause. “It has to be you.” A whisper.

The teasing atmosphere took a serious turn. “What about this case? You’re gonna be defending Nakajima Atsushi?! You idiot, all the evidence and testimonies point to him!”

“That’s the point, slug.” The man in a blue suit says as he lightly pokes at the shorter man’s forehead, earning a slap directed at his hand, which he quickly dodged. “Atsushi-kun is innocent, but all the evidence and testimonies say he’s guilty.”

Which is why I need you to be the prosecutor of this case, was left unsaid but understood by the other.

The prosecutor scrunched up his nose, unsatisfied by the explanation. “There are other prosecutors skilled enough to investigate this on a deeper level. Stop putting more work on my plate. I’ve been going overtime more often these days, just so you know.”

“Aw~ come on, you always go overtime, Chuuya.” Dazai grins, but something clouds over his eyes as he continues. “The headmaster of Atsushi-kun’s orphanage was the one who filed the case. Funny enough, he’s also the very same man who ‘went out for drinks’ with multiple people involved in this case.” His voice lowered, “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the actual culprit behind the crime he’s filed against my client.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened. Back then, before Dazai changed for the better, he would always hurl the insult of ‘going out for a drink’ at Dazai for his dirty ways. They both know the meaning behind those words. He hates to admit it, but knowing the man in front of him for nearly a decade, he knows just how important this request is for Dazai to use that term.

“…… Fine, I’ll take that case.” He grumbles, trying to ignore the twisting feeling inside his chest as he sees the taller man beam at him. “If you don’t get that not-guilty verdict, I’m whacking your head with all the court records I’ll be gathering from my investigation!”

“Gotcha~ my dearest prosecutor!” Dazai winks. Smiling at his rival in court; his partner in pursuing the truth.

.

In yet another,

They were children who would never reach adulthood, and perhaps it was better that way. Despite being born into different eras, having lived different lives and dying different deaths, they had one thing in common: their fate to roam the land of the living as lost souls, barred from passing through the gates to the afterlife. But that’s alright; they didn’t mind being ghosts. To watch different kinds of sunsets as they fly through the sky; to pull different kinds of pranks on the living; to watch the changes of the world like how the living does with the changes of seasons—for the rest of eternity…... as long as they have each other to annoy and look out for nothing else seems to matter… (Summer Ghost and Harry Styles’ Two Ghost inspired I’m sorry not sorry)

“Oi, Dazai… I wanna ask you something, but I dunno if it’ll remind you of the time when you were still alive…”

The boy wrapped in bandages hums in response, letting the wind envelope his thin frame—a tiny speck in contrast to the clouds around him.

“Don’t you ever get tired of watching sunsets? I mean, I get that they’re all beautiful and unique but… we’ve been watching them for hundreds of years…” Everyday for the past centuries since they’ve known each other, Dazai would, without fail, drag him to the sky just to watch the setting sun. Chuuya always looked forward to it, but today his curiosity finally got the better of him.

Dazai glances over to his companion; something inside him itches to lie his way out of this. But after being together for centuries, wandering as lost souls around the world, Chuuya had long mastered the art of recognizing his lies.  He smiles softly as he drifts closer to the other. “Chuuya will you ever get tired of me?”

The answer was as natural and as definitive as the sun’s movements. “No. But that’s not the answer to my question.” The ginger haired boy rolls his eyes, “Look, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine.”

“I’m dead and have been so for centuries, Chuuya; nothing really matters at this point.” Dazai chuckles, “Just like how you’ll never get tired of me. I’ll never get tired of sunsets.”

A pair of bandaged arms gestures to the sky. “Look, when the sky is azure, they are like your eyes. When the sun starts to set, it goes pink like your cheeks, then goes orange like your hair, then goes red like your lips.” Brown eyes twinkle as he speaks, “then it goes purple and blue, like the bruises you hide under your sleeves; and then when night falls it the sky becomes decorated with stars like how freckles decorate your cheeks.

“Yes, sunsets are always beautiful and always unique; one could argue that many things in nature are like that. But, we’ve both seen how forests can burn down, and seas can dry up; mountains can collapse, and glaciers can melt.” Dazai turns to look at the other boy gaping at him, his own voice laced with fondness. “But sunsets are a constant in this world. And you know what else is constant in my world that the setting sun reminds me of?”

They both know the answer to that.

Chuuya stares back at the chocolate-haired boy. A feeling started growing inside his chest; he wasn’t sure what word could describe its movement. Twisting? Aching? Blooming? Beating? Oh, it’s beating. “... Y’know… if I were still alive, I’m sure my heart would be beating real fast at your words.”

“Whoa, Chuuya still remembers what a beating heart feels like?” Dazai marvels, a childlike wonder spreads across his face. “You died waaaay earlier than me, but you remember it better than me. Unfair~”

“Tch, just you wait, idiot Dazai! I’ll make sure that you remember how it feels like to have a heartbeat.” Chuuya huffed, the sunset light dyeing his cheeks pink. “So that you’ll experience what I felt when you said all that to me!”

Laughter like the sound of tiny bells echo across the clouds. They’re just two ghosts… trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.

.

In a mundane one,

They were teenagers with a passion for music. Spending all the time they had messing around with instruments and lyrical word plays, they were later on scouted by big companies who recognized their talents. Debuting with a hit single and a record breaking album, they became known as the musical duo “Double Black”. They’ve always been known for their catchy songs about life and reasons to live, about corruption and sorrow, about the world and humans… And so it was a shock for the whole industry to witness them dropping an album with over thirty different love songs dedicated to ‘the love of their lives’ which they never once mentioned. (They only realized they were in love when they started writing about love, and it’s hilarious because they’ve been each other’s muse after all this time without realizing it)

“This is actually a really good love song.” It was rare for Chuuya to give an honest and straightforward compliment to Dazai; they both always prefer to stab each other with criticism after all. “Who did you write it for?”

Dazai stares blankly at the shorter boy in front of him. Brown eyes blinking slowly at him. “Who do you think I wrote it for?” He answers with a question.

Ginger curls frame a frowning face. “Dunno. I’m not the scheming bastard between the two of us, mackerel.”

“Well…… The title is ‘Sunset Man’... Who do you think is this sunset man, Chuuya?” Each word leaves Dazai’s mouth slowly and carefully, like he’s taming a wild beast approaching him.

Perhaps Chuuya lost his patience, or maybe he’s just too tired today to bother with this. He gives up his pursuit, muttering as he turns away from the other boy. “Whatever. Keep your muse to yourself. I just asked since you never wrote a love song before. But do bring that piece when we meet with our manager next time.”

He misses the frustrated face Dazai makes from the couch as he starts busying himself with dinner preparations. Ignoring the bugging feeling he gets for not knowing who inspired that Dazai to write something so sickeningly sweet and romantic. “A love song is a good change of pace though,” he forces out, trying to distract himself from his feelings. “We better start brainstorming concepts for our next album, maybe we can include that one if we get approval.”

Chuuya’s words were followed by a loud thud on the floor. 

“Oi, what’s wrong?” He turned back to see Dazai on the floor, groaning miserably, covering his face with both hands. “I swear if you hit your head and get even dumber than you are now, I’m kicking you out of this place.” Is what he says as he hurries over to the fallen mackerel, just to double-check if the fall was serious or not.

“Chuuya!” Dazai sits up all of a sudden, with a face that’s slightly flushed. “I’m gonna write another love song!”

“???” Chuuya was startled. “Okay?? Go ahead?? Whatever makes you happy??”

“The title…” Dazai looks at him directly in the eyes, wearing an extremely serious expression that further puzzles Chuuya. “is called ‘Idiots to Lovers, Slow-burn at the speed of 220k words’ what do you think?”

Chuuya smacks Dazai’s head at this, forgetting the latter’s fall from the couch just moments ago. “I knew it, you dramatic idiot! You were reading those cringey fanfics about us on the internet again, weren’t you! Stop rotting in fanfictions and start writing songs already!”

“But they serve as good inspiration for me~” The brown-haired musician whines. “Do you think someone who’s too busy babying a chibi dog has the chance to experience something romantic enough to write a song like ‘Sunset Man’?”

“Who’s babying who you whiny bastard!?” The other musician retorts, once more ignoring the feeling of relief that washes over him knowing that Dazai was using cringe works of fiction as inspiration for his love song instead of an actual muse—no, he is definitely not relieved by this piece of information, nor did he feel any better with the fact that said works of fictions are about them written in the twisted perspectives and assumptions of their fanbase about his professional relationship with Dazai. He definitely is not—

“Chuuya~” Dazai cuts his thoughts with a teasing voice, “wanna see who writes a better love song between the two of us?” 

Mischief and signs of scheming flash in his brown eyes, Chuuya’s heart skips a beat at the challenge.

“Bring it on, mackerel. I’m gonna compose love songs that are so sickeningly romantic that they’d make yours look like a cheesy pile of lyrics and notes.”

“The game is on, my chibi.” My muse.

In which two musicians decided to write love songs as a competition. Only to realize how easily it comes for them to do so, only to realize that they had a muse to always write about and associate love songs with, only to realize that somewhere along the lines of music that they’ve been in love with each other since a long time ago.

.

And in one other universe…and galaxy,

They grew up and trained together as space rangers, but time had warped their relationship into something as astronomical and as twisted and as dense as the celestial bodies in the galaxy. After years of turmoil, they’re finally reunited under the blaring emergency lights of a spacecraft—not as space rangers, but one as the emperor of the galaxy and the other as the general commander of the galactic fleet. (did y’all know that Dazai’s voice actor also voiced for Reinhard from The Legend of the Galactic Heroes, and guess what else do they have in common?? thEY BOTH LOVE THEIR RED HEAD RIGHT HAND MAN)

“Dazai. You have to leave. Now.”

“Now, now, Chuuya, that’s a really rude way to greet someone you haven’t met in years.”

“You idiot! Reinforcements are coming, at this rate, you’ll really get assassinated—”

“And get the peaceful death I longed to have? I sure could wait for it—”

“This isn’t the time to be joking, Dazai!” Glaring emergency lights dye the room bloody red, as the general’s grip on the emperor’s collars tighten. “You have to leave before someone else other than me finds you!”

“Chuuya, do you know of the legend about the stars?” Was the calm response to the angry voice. Dazai Osamu was talking as if he wasn’t standing inside a spacecraft that might as well be his coffin. “They say that each star represents a timeline similar to ours. If science were advanced enough, we might be able to get into a different timeline by flying directly into the core of the star.”

“What nonsense are you spouting right now?” Chuuya could hear his own voice shake with emotions he chose to label as anger. They both know that this isn’t the right time for idle talk. But they were once space rangers— fighters who were used to waltzing with death, a duo as unstoppable as a storm, before duties and responsibilities chained them down. This isn’t the first time they have had such moments while at the doors of death.

“I’m sorry I ruined our dream of becoming space cowboys.” The emperor of the galaxy whispered. It was a soft and quiet voice, but to Chuuya it was enough to silence all the blaring noises around them.

“You had promises to keep. I had responsibilities to carry out.” The general commander whispered back. “We both couldn’t let go. Space cowboys and bounty hunts be damned.”

A sad smile twisted its way onto the bandaged face. “And this time, the whole galaxy and duties be damned.”

Sparks of explosions waltz around the spaceship as a small spacecraft escapes into the empty void of space.

Dazai Osamu’s final lie. Nakahara Chuuya’s last promise

“In the next life, or perhaps a universe parallel to ours, let’s be the most legendary space cowboys the galaxy will ever see.”

Somewhere in the galaxy, the core of a star dies—collapsing from the force of gravity, giving birth to a black hole.

.

In another universe,

Human experiment test subject A5158 did not know if he was an artificial being or if there were really mermaids out there in the vast wild waters. No one bothered to tell him. Until the newest recruit, a young science prodigy, told him that mermaids did exist deep down the oceans. He thought that he was already content with having that knowledge— knowing that he wasn’t a lonely existence in this world. But that sense of contentment was immediately shattered when that very same young scientist, a boy, really, asked him: “Would you like to escape with me and see it for yourself?” (late mermay thingz aksjdhglasg)

A year after their grand escape, in a local town by the sea, sits the humble shack of a young fisherman. The townsfolk who passed by would always sigh and say “What a waste it is for a brilliant mind like him to spend the rest of his days throwing nets over the sea!”

Yet whenever they tried to encourage him to reach for greater heights in the world, the young brunette would simply chuckle and say, “A bird who flies into the skies will never reach the fish that swims into the seas.”

“Oh young man,” they would reply, “but the city is ever changing, and ever growing. Once you see it, surely you won’t miss the boring waters of this lowly town.”

“It’s not the waters that keep me by the sea.” The former scientist replies, “It’s my anchor, that has reached deep under these waters, that keeps me here.” A gentle smile lingers on his lips.

And later that night, he visits the town to distribute his ‘catch’—a variety of fish, many that could only be caught at the heart of the sea. “No way, Dazai-san! These are all extremely hard to catch, how could you just give it to us for free?”

“Don’t sweat on it.” He grins, “They aren’t that hard to catch for me.”

“Now that you say it, I actually haven’t seen you set up your boat to fish for the day. Yet you managed to get so much harvest today?” The townsfolk wondered.

“Well, there are some trade secrets I’d like to keep to myself~” He waves it off as he returns to his cozy shack and is welcomed by a salty splash to the face.

“You went out to get credited for my catch again, you sly mackerel.” A brilliant red tail lazily swims through a passage of water, one that Dazai had built into the shack so that the merman could enter anytime he wished.

“Chuuya~ they loved it! I wanted to make sure that me being a fisherman here would greatly benefit them so that they’d stop trying to convince me to leave for the city and what other nonsense, you should praise me for being smart!”

The merman rolled his eyes as he sighs. “They’re not wrong, though.” He ignores the betrayed gasp the man makes, “Try to live for yourself for once, Dazai.”

“Chuuya, I am living for myself! Can’t you see it? I’m shellfish-ly keeping this wonderful mermaid all to myself~”

“You’re impossible.” Another sigh, this time exasperated with fondness. “Like a damned barnacle sticking to me for the rest of my life.”

Hazel eyes that were once bandaged now shine as a pair as plans for the rest of their lives flash through them like a whirlwind of ideas. “For the rest of our lives.” He agrees.

.

…📖✍️… (part 1, part 2)

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #bsd skk #soukoku #double black #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #alternate universe #art study #bsd dazai osamu #bsd nakahara chuuya #i had fun making these hope you had fun going through them too :3 #their dynamic will always be something special to me 😭 #they are partners your honor #part three in coming soon maybe #okay but soukoku in space concepts unlocked something emotional to me idk how to explain #i wanted to make these all angsty but for some reason they all ended up not so angsty??? #if you get all the references for these aus you get a cake from me lol #people in part one were reblogging about reading fics about the aus so i tried my best *key word: tried* to write bite size dialogues #please forgive my rustyass writing ;-; #if yall wanna expand on any of these feel free to reblog bc i’s read the heck out of it!!!!! #let me know in the tags which ones are your favs too! owo #my art

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday

tagged by @theotherbuckley 💖

and tagged for tease tidbit tuesday by @nmcggg @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖

it's barely 1am so let's count this still as tuesday as well lol haven't written much lately (or at all tbh) but here's a tiny bit of the coffee shop au I managed to finally make some progress a few days ago after months of not touching it lol

prev snippet | snippet from a wip game

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Huh. An order for two people. So maybe he has someone. It’s an early morning on a Saturday, he’s probably going home to his person, and here Buck is with a crush on a man already in a relationship. He tries not to feel too disappointed, after all, they only talked a handful of times, it’s not like he’s that delusional, he knew it wouldn’t ever lead anywhere – he’s too chicken to make a move, anyway, which is unusual for him. There’s just something about Eddie. Clearly he’s not available, though.

“Alright, coming right up.” he smiles, it feels a little tight. Eddie frowns a little, but then Buck turns around and gets started. 

“So, your sister is pretty cool.” Eddie remarks, breaking the silence between them. Buck instantly smiles, and turns his head towards Eddie.

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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @fortheloveofbuddie @diazsdimples

#tease tidbit tuesday #wip wednesday #buddie coffee shop au #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #eddie: orders smth for chris too on his way home #buck: instantly jealous and devastated over his crush dating someone lol #don't worry buck will meet chris soon haha #i can't wait to write the madney part of this fic too 😍 #i haven't written in like 3 days and it's killing me but like no words want to come ugh #im jumping between fics so much omg istg im gonna focus on just one soon lol