#will one day make a post talking about my favorite line

[puppy-steve]

may fic rec

a monthly rec list to help me handle my tbr

<- april fic rec ❀ more fic recs ❀ my ao3

King and Prince - M, 19/?, WIP (ao3) @apomaro-mellow

tags: royalty au, demon king eddie, slow burn, kidnapping, enemies to friends to lovers

Eddie is in the middle of a feud with an opposing kingdom. Running out of options, he decides to kidnap their prince.

supportive uncle wayne - G, complete @steddieas-shegoes

tags: title says it all, post canon, good parent uncle wayne

Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet. He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball - T, 1.5k, complete (ao3) @augustjustice

tags: future fic, post canon, single parent steve, single parent eddie (he's raising his cousin's kid), pre-slash

It's the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball...of 1999. Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington have some catching up–and reminiscing–to do.

linguistic phenomenon - M, 2/2, complete (ao3) @dodger-chan & @sharpbutsoft

tags: hellfire, the linguistics of the word 'suck', talks of blowjobs

Like a good number of things, it was Wheeler’s fault. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would have no problem sitting back in his throne and staying above the fray while his little sheep had their silly arguments. Talking is a free action, etc. etc. And they’d wrapped for the night, were only delaying clean-up. But Wheeler, pressed by his friends to join in the defense of their favorite paladin, had gone with a very explicable but awkward choice of phrasing. “I mean, Steve doesn’t suck.” Eddie bit down on his tongue. He wasn’t going to say anything. He was not.

(asking to have) you on their skin - E, 2.6k, complete @starrystevie | rogersharringtons

tags: mutual masturbation, truth or dare, handjobs, dirty talk

"truth or dare?" steve's looking at eddie expectantly while he waits for his answer, his eyes wide and cheeks pushed up from the grin pulling at his lips. he's shirtless from past dares and eddie's trying hard to not look at the hair covering his chest, to not look at the way his scars have faded into a pretty dusty pink, to not look at the flexed muscles in his arm from where it's slung over the back of the couch and he's definitely not looking at the way the movement pulls his pec up. they aren't high enough for this, not drunk enough for it either, but he feels intoxicated. maybe that's just what being around steve harrington at 2am does to him. it makes him stupid. "...truth?" steve's grin grows wide enough to challenge even the cheshire cat and eddie knows that truth was the wrong choice. see? stupid.

Between The Lines - M, 2.4k, complete @hitlikehammers

tags: protective steve, misunderstandings, established relationship, shovel talk, good parent wayne

“We need to talk.” Wayne wonders if this is the tone of voice the kid uses to fight the monsters they don’t talk about. “Say again?” ——— Or: Eddie gets hurt, so Steve and Wayne participate in…something of a shovel talk.

the anatomy of a home run - E, 5.7k, complete @tboygareth | hxneyfarmer

tags: established relationship, baseball terminology, bottom eddie, top steve, virgin eddie, barebacking, creampie no condom nation

Eddie doesn't know shit about baseball. He does know a few good euphemisms.

Pool Day - T, 1.9k, complete (ao3) @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe

tags: post canon, pool party, pre-relationship

It’s a clear, warm, sunny day in the late summer of ‘86. The whole ‘other dimension survivors’ party is in attendance at Steve’s place for the day; Hop, Joyce, Karen, Claudia now, and even Wayne are staying inside in the A/C, the kids are in the pool, and all but the one of the ‘older kids’ are lounging around on the Harringtons’ sun chairs. Argyle in particular is soaking up the UV rays. Jon is burning to a crisp under his and Nancy’s umbrella. It’s Eddie, however, that’s been in the pool practically all morning, and is currently hyping himself up to do… something.. off Steve’s creaky, probably dry-rotted, diving board. He does look good up there; drenched head to toe with his hair pushed back from his face like that. If he wasn’t covered in pool water, Steve would want to lick him.

A Punch In The Dark - T, 10.3k, complete @roguenancy | tentones

tags: post-s4, pining, fall festivals, first kiss, accidental injury, scare actor eddie

Eddie smiles through the blood. Grinning like the cat that ate the canary and not the nerd that just got decked, he nods. Then he throws his head back and howls in laughter. It’s a harsh sound in the too-small hallway. It bounces off the walls, making Steve wince as something coils inside him. “Fuck, Harrington! I pegged you as a hitter, but I never imagined you’d be such a screamer.” Or: Eddie Munson gets a job working at a haunted maze during the fall festival, and over the course of a single night, Steve Harrington's life turns into a series of struggles.

Twenty-one - E, 7.2k, complete @itcanbepalped

tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, heat sex, first time, eddie's soft and a lil mean too, overstimulation

Eddie is twenty-one and he finally gets to rail Steve like he’s always wanted to.

don't you hear me howling, babe? - E, 4/5, WIP @occasionaloverboy

tags: post canon, grief/mourning, vamp eddie

In the fall of '91 Steve comes home - and the past finally catches up to him.

What Glows In The Dark - E, 5.5k, complete @beetlesandstarss

tags: modern au, roommates steddie, prank war

“Steven,” Eddie breathes venomously. He gestures to the condom-scattered floor. “Would you like to explain to me why I had a guy leave my room unfucked half an hour ago?” (The prank war had started innocently enough, but it quickly devolved into a game of cockblocking, which in Eddie's opinion, is The Worst Game Of All Time.)

Free-Use Health Care - E, 2/2, complete QueenOfSwords1312

tags: omegaverse, omega steve, alpha eddie, heat clinic, mutual pining, true mates

Heat and rut clinics have been in-operation in Indiana since the mid 1800’s, but the new one that opens up just outside of Hawkins in 1987 is the first one that’s strictly a heat clinic. It’s considerably progressive for its time, the first of its kind to cater entirely to unmated omegas who would prefer not to risk an accidental bonding at one of the regular clinics. Honestly, it sounds like a dream to an unmated omega like Steve. —— Or: Omega Steve uses an omega-forward health clinic to help with his heat and learns quite a bit about himself along the way.

When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name - E, 5.1k, complete @sidekick-hero

tags: established realtionship, mirror sex, married steddie

"Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze. The light of the setting sun has almost disappeared, leaving a dim twilight that barely illuminates their bodies. Steve doesn't think he needs any light for this, he knows Eddie's body by heart, all his senses so attuned to him that the absence of one of them wouldn't make much of a difference. But then he happens to look past Eddie to the ceiling, and what he finds there makes his heart stutter in his chest. A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly. He can't believe he hadn't seen it before, too caught up in his husband it seems. But now that he's seen it, he can't look away, can't stop drinking in the way they look in the faint light that still filters in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Or: Even after almost a decade together you can still discover new kinks.

safe under you - T, complete @hitlikehammers

tags: domestic fluff, sleepy steve, wedding vows

Steve purses his lips and tries—fails, but tries—to peek at the notebook on level with his temple. “What’s got you so invested, then?” he finally gives up trying to turn and read where Eddie’s hasn’t even bothered trying to hide, not least because there is nothing there, and just asks. And Eddie could dodge it. Steve would respect it if he did. But he…he doesn’t. Generally speaking he doesn’t hide anything from Steve. Big or small. Their life is a shared thing from top to bottom and Eddie loves that about them so fucking fierce, so. He just sighs and admit it. “My vows.”

Livin' in sin is the new thing - E, 2.1k, complete @hornedqueenofhell

tags: transmasc steve, cunnilingus, period sex, established steddie, kas as his own entity inside eddie's head, kas has a crush on steve

Kas purrs for him and leans into the touch as his tongue leaks drool all over the towel, Steve tugs him closer and spreads his legs wider. The purr shifts into a deeper growl as Kas’ tongue licks over him once, twice more, before delving between his folds.

Move fast, baby, don't be slow - E, 1.3k, complete @hornedqueenofhell

tags: established steddie+kas, threesome, switch eddie, dom steve, sub kas, spit kink, spit roasting

“He wanted you so bad princess, all growly and possessive over ‘our mate’. Thought I couldn’t see him fantasize about you fucking him.” Eddie purrs, watching Steve palm himself as he bites down on the spot between Kas’s shoulder and neck to leave a mark. “That what you want sweet pea? You wanna be a good boy for us?” Steve calls out teasingly, watching Eddie make out with his not twin was never a kink he expected to have but the sight was unparalleled.

deck of cards - E, series, complete @wynnyfryd

tags: robin+eddie meet cute, misunderstandings, fluff, robin has two hands let her have two platonic soulmates

“Ask me anything,” she says, bracing herself for a hard hitter. Eddie leans in, eyes too intense again as he holds her gaze. After a moment he says, “Be honest.” Robin gulps. “Promise.” “…Did you eat stale popcorn out of the popcorn machine in the lobby?” A horrible, startled snort-laugh explodes out of her so forcefully it kinda rattles her sinuses. “I meant you could ask a real question!” “Oh, that’s a very real question. I don’t think I can be friends with someone who’s too prideful to admit they scarfed down a handful of that buttery garbage when no one was looking.” “I totally did,” she admits on a laugh, and Eddie laughs, too. “I know, I saw you do it.” --- Steve, Robin, and Eddie kill time in a bar.

i could tell that you'd be on my mind tonight - T, 5.8k, complete @anniebibananie

tags: author eddie, writer steve, modern au

The room clapped, and Steve watched as a man stepped out from somewhere behind a nearby bookshelf to approach the microphone. Edward Munson. Steve wasn’t sure what he’d expected him to look like, probably some balding middle-aged man with a beer belly, but it was just… a dude. A guy, probably around his age, with dark hair pulled into a low bun, fingers stacked with rings, wearing a Metallica shirt with dark jeans and thick combat boots. He was, well, he was kinda hot honestly. Maybe Steve did understand why so many people were sitting in the crowd to get a glimpse of this dude. When Steve gets dragged along to an event for the author of the Vecna's Curse series by Nancy and Dustin, he isn't expecting anything to come from the night. He's definitely not expecting Eddie Munson.

Crave - M+E, series, WIP @eddies-artofsuffering

tags: modern au, coffee shop au, baker eddie, bookshop worker steve, flirting getting together, CWP (crack with plot)

At noon, as expected, the doorbell chimes. Eddie’s head snaps towards the entrance, mouth falling open as Hot Steve walks in. Eddie shoos his coworkers away with a frantic wave, straightens his name tag on his apron, and rests his chin on his palm and bends over a little, elbow on the counter. It’s go time. - Or: a stupid coffee shop AU in which Steve takes his break from his bookstore shift at noon to come to Café Byers every day, and Eddie loses his mind every time.

If It Has to Happen, Let It - T, 4.1k, complete (ao3) @steviewashere

tags: sickfic, hurt/comfort, emetophobia, migraines

"Worst of the worst, though, was the nausea. — He remembers the all consuming fear when his stomach would flip. When his mouth would begin to salivate and his throat would burn with the bile that came up through burps, and how his hands would shake. — Steve doesn’t do nausea. He doesn’t do throwing up. He doesn’t even do burps. That’s how afraid he is." OR Steve has a emetophobia and a bad migraine, Eddie helps him through the worst of it

because i care about you - G, complete @pearynice

tags: sickfic, established relationship, fluff

Steve is sick. Which might as well mean Eddie’s entire world is ending. 

#cj talks #trying a new layout with tumblr fics that have ao3 counterparts #fic rec #steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fic

[danielpowell]

Find it very interesting that Chai is labeled as a slacker and is on paper having no prior work experience + is called an idiot on several occasions + is stated to be a college dropout

And somehow he managed to get into college in the first place

I'm going to be contrarian and say this man actually had a scholarship but struggled with certain aspects of academia, consequently losing the funding he needed and forcing him to struggle to find a career with no credentials and no experience

#mel talks hi fi rush #you can find ways to get through school by doing the bare minimum #and with how Chai is I'm willing to bet he saddled up a bunch of extracurriculars that helped him qualify #for said scholarships #I would even goes as far to say he is fully capable of studying things he has interest in but #lacked a support network to assist with things he struggled with #and who is to say he didn't do odd jobs or run errands to get enough to survive #but had no idea how to put that in a resume #the beacon (original intro song / streamer mode version) has very telling lyrics to me #also unrelated but the disability commentary is there and it leaves such an impact in my eyes #will one day make a post talking about my favorite line #edit: saw a lot of people saying it's not a serious game so Chai might have just dropped out to get said arm #which I'm not... a fan of #I could see the possibility and 100% get behind the reasoning #and still manage to make it super angsty because (vague gesture) #but this makes way more sense to me personally #gods is it apparent I have no one to infodump and discuss this game with

[kirby-the-gorb]

#kirby #daily kirby #my art #digital #hal laboratory #nintendo #(edit: it's been found thank you! original tags preserved below) #I cannot for the life of me find one specific reaction image and its source post #the one where the person is coming to in a hospital bed after a surgery #and they try to eat their own fist #and get stopped #and make big wibbly confused crying faces #it's smooth line images interspersed with text #does anyone have it? #cuz that '🥺???' was me most of the day and I wanted the image so I could convey it #but I Couldn't Find It #and neither my wife nor my best friend have any idea what image I'm talking about #so they can't help #(my partner isn't very online so there's no point asking them lol) #do any of y'all have it pls #I want the original post but I can't even find the standalone reaction image which should be enough to find the post #I've found one iteration of someone drawing their oc in the meme format and that's as far as I got even with as much as I remember about it #favorites

[daughterofsarenrae]

fajsdlkfjslkfjsdlkfj my dad is upset with my bc he just discovered kill la kill and i told him i watched it in like high school and apparently i should've recommended it to him back then

#in hindsight yeah he loves satire #but at the time i was like. oh my god im going to get in trouble bc of the fanservice in this show JLKFJLKDJF #LISTEN. my dad is a weeb. he cannot help this. #anyways congrats to him for making me think about klk for the first time in YEARS #also for fucking calling me out for having been obsessed with ryuko #like yeah she DOES fit into my favorite genre of character. u know me so well #man it is an experience being the age i am now and talking to my dad. last time we talked on the phone he dropped the f bomb #and i was like. HOLY SHIT am i like. allowed to curse around u now. have i officially grown out of not being allowed to say Bad Words. #bc hoo boy brace urself <3 #anyways i love my dad. i miss him. i am sosososososossososo excited and impatient for the (HOPEFUL. FINGERS CROSSED) trip we might take soo #im not going to say where bc i dont want to jinx it. but oh my god if it happens i am literally NEVER going to shut up about it #ANYWAYS #bel speaks #happiest day of my dad's life was me starting to take japanese. so that i could tell him how to say this one line from godzilla #he's obsessed with godzilla. that's his blorbo #now im just ranting about my dad in the tags. post over everyone go home

[niennanir]

Listen to your elders

So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.

So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.

But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?

In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.

Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download

Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 

No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.

Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife

You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.

Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:

use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.

Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.

Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.

You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.

Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour

In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock

Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)

Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.

Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine

Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.

Voila:

I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.

The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.

If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 

#fanbinding #fanfiction #Nir paperback

[crumbledcastle28]

Joel Miller: Stay Down

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Joel thought he had grown accustomed to fear until he finds you covered in blood.

Excerpt: He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.

He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.

Warnings: stitching of a wound, kissing, blood, blood loss, so much yearning, unestablished relationship, probably incorrect gun talk, Joel is scared of feelings.

A/N: This is me coping with the fact that we do not get more last of us in January. Also partially inspired by my favorite song maybe ever.

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

Joel had found his hands becoming more and more susceptible to the cold as he got older.

They would crack and bleed, flaking dried skin within his decades-old gloves before November had even begun. This not only hurt like hell, but forced him to slow down and think about what he was doing to his body for once in his life. He had a harder time gripping the reins on a horse or fingering the trigger on a shotgun. Noticeably so. And living in a small town with a little brother foaming at the mouth to make old man jokes didn't help matters.

This is what led him to you.

He wouldn't call you a hoarder. Honestly, he would be the first to admit that you were one of the smartest people in Jackson. You had somehow become one of the most materialistically rich people in the town. You consistently managed to find the most randomly useful items on your patrols, things that people before the outbreak would never have even thought to miss.

Things like shoe insoles, ball point pens, Chapstick.

And luckily for him, lotion.

You never charged anyone for taking from what you had. Furthermore, you actively asked people if they needed anything. Even offering to scout around the area in search of specifics. Joel hadn't been around that kind of softness since...

Well, a long time.

This made him uncharacteristically nervous when he first approached your doorstep, but he knocked anyway. He had never in a million years expected to leave that house satisfied in more ways than one.

He blamed it on that stupid crinkle the skin underneath your eyes got whenever you smiled at him. He couldn't help but fall into your light.

This started a... friendship. Of sorts. He would come over when he needed you, and you would happily oblige. As time went on, the visits to yours became more and more frequent, frequent enough that the rest of the town seemed to be catching on. At least, that's what his brother had been hinting at through jabs and side comments.

"You smiled at me the other day, Joel," Tommy had said. "Actually smiled."

Joel responded with a gesture he was hoping Ellie would not pick up anytime soon.

Joel was...happy. Happy with the arrangement. He had a warm body – a fucking gorgeous warm body – to get his energy out with, and the woman inside the body seemingly had no issue with his lack of strings attached.

And yet, for some reason, this annoyed him.

There was some undetectable, bruised part of him that wanted you to…what exactly? Fight him on it? Confess your undying love for him? Pull him back into bed to cuddle?

There had to be either pheromones or crack cocaine in that honeyed floral perfume you always wore. You were beginning to drive him this insane. Unfortunately for him, the place he went when he was beginning to toe that line into insanity was always you.

Joel had checked the schedule posted in the main square, assigning every able-bodied person shifts of patrol. You had a shift earlier in the day, which usually kept you busy until noon. You would then shower, eat, and spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever the hell you wanted.

Overtime, these mental gymnastics became muscle memory to Joel.

He huffed as he lugged his aching legs up your steps, their typical milk white now coated in an ugly muddy brown. Winter had begun, apparent by the puffs of Joel’s own breaths, and the snow in Jackson was trying desperately to keep up.

Joel balled his hands into fists as he planted both feet onto your porch, blowing into them quickly, before knocking three times. Spaced out enough, but not too much. He envisioned you smiling as you heard his signature knock, but cringed at himself internally, burying the thought instantly.

It fluttered back to the surface when he heard the pads of your footsteps somewhere in the house begin but extinguished itself when they dissipated.

He waited a few more seconds, the rational part of his brain saying that you must be in the middle of something, but the man part of his brain imagining you putting on your silky red robe he loved so much, only for him to take it off you so slowly it made his own fingers shake. He breathed in deep, the laundry detergent from his nylon coat mixed with the beginnings of December filling his nose, and cracked his neck while rocking back and forth on his heels.

His eyebrows came together when he heard another rustle, then nothing.

He knocked again.

Still, nothing,

He knew you were in there – he could hear you, clear as day, and he knew you could hear him – but for some reason, you weren’t coming to the door.

His much too weathered mind began to race, thinking of three possible explanations. One, you heard him knocking, and were ignoring him. Two, you somehow were not hearing him knock on the door. Or three, you for some reason were not able to get to the door.

Meaning, there was a possibility you weren’t alone in there, and not by choice.

“Y/N?” he asked loudly. “Y/N, are you in there?”

Nothing. A bit more rustling, maybe a slight groan, but nothing.

Joel’s fingers began to tingle, and it wasn’t from the cold. He knocked again, harder.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” he said loudly, “just…just tell me you’re okay.”

Silence.

He gripped the doorknob and jiggled it, hard enough for the wood to groan underneath his fingertips, but it was locked from the inside. He huffed, knocking again, his hot breaths now clouding his face. He felt an ache in his wrist.

He said your name one more time, hearing the beginnings of a voice he knew better than he should have muffled by the wood, and the door was flat in front of him before he could think twice.

He stomped his way inside, coating the ground with mud and snow, and his eyes darted around the familiar living room. His vision was tunneled, scrounging for the shape of you on the floor, draped over the couch, held at gunpoint. His heart pulsed in his ears.

You weren’t in the living room.

He stomped into the kitchen, the bathroom, the basement, nothing. All that was left was the bedroom.

There was no way in hell you were still asleep.

He practically sprinted to the room, preparing himself. He had seen what men did to women, the remnants of it anyway, and despite his state of denial, he could never in a million years handle the sight of you that way. In your own bed. In your own house. Likely one of your own friends.

He pulled open the door anyway, and was met with gold.

The room was dim except for the lamps you loved so dearly, spreading their warm, glowing, honeyed light across the room in streaks. He blinked his eyes to adjust, focusing in on your body on the bed. You were facing him, skin painted with similar golden streaks, highlighting the tears culminating under your eyes. You were sat crisscrossed, upper body totally bare, back slouched tightly, your body practically folded in on itself. Your right hand was pressed against your left shoulder blade, while your other was filled with wine-colored rags.

Blood-soaked rags.

His eyes met yours quickly, and despite their dampness, they still had that fucking crinkle.

You chuckled, your shoulders dropping up and down quickly as they always do.

“You know,” you said, voice curdled and tired, “if someone doesn’t answer the door, that’s usually them saying ‘leave me the hell alone.”

You chuckled again, this time finishing it off with a wince.

His hand slid slowly from the doorknob as he took a hesitant step towards you, his body tearing itself in half. One side begging to fold your body into him, bubbling you in a cocoon. The other, itching to tear whatever did this to you apart ligament by ligament.

Your eyes slowly drooped from humor to something like shame, like a kicked dog or a broken child, and he stepped forward again.

“Don’t,” you countered weakly. “Just…just don’t.”

You scooted away from him slightly, refusing to look at him, and applied more pressure to whatever was expelling that much blood from your shoulder. Pain was suddenly present in your face.

“You want me to leave?” he quickly countered.

You said nothing.

He walked to you, removing the hand you had pressed against your wound, and sucked in a quick breath.

“Probably the first time you’ve seen a revolver bullet in about twenty years, huh Joel?” you asked, chuckling once more.

He barely heard you.

You had gotten the bullet out, but it had sunken in deep. The skin around it was red and welting, so swollen that Joel had to guess you had already been working on it for at least an hour. He winced, imagining what kind of pain you were in, and the fact that you were dealing with it all yourself.

He swallowed grimly.

“Hand me that rag,” he said. He could tell how little strength you had left to fight him by how quickly the rag flopped into his hand.

He pressed it to the wound, and you hissed.

“Fuck Joel,” you whined, squeezing the covers of your bed so tightly your knuckles went white. He held his pressure, forcing himself to think straight.

He might as well have been feeling the pain in his own shoulder.

He finally eased his pressure, wiping away as much blood from the area as he could.

“You cleaned it pretty well,” he said softly, voice thick in his throat, so thick it was hard to speak. “But…it’s gonna need a stich or two.”

“Or seven,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit sat in the middle of the bed. You opened the bag with shaking hands, taking out the needle and thread. You attempted to begin threading the needle, but with your hands quaking so fiercely you only produced frustrated grunts and sighs. He moved to the front of the bed, the front of his body facing yours, and took the needle and thread from your hands, setting them to the side. He then held your hands in his, squeezing them slightly, before using one to tilt your chin up at him.

He sighed at the storm in your eyes.

“What happened?”

“Did you kick my fucking door down?”

“What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened.”

He sighed again. “You’ve never once been stupid.”

“Today I was.”

“How?”

“It’s how I always am.” Your voice cracked. “Thought I could pick some apples for Mrs. Lawrence down the street. She always talks about how much she loved that as a kid – a freshly picked apple. Went out too far. Felt a sudden burning in my shoulder and ended up having to take out six hunters all by myself. Six.”

A single tear dripped from your left eye, the gold from the lamps turning it to sunlight.

“I could’ve died. All for a fucking apple.”

You turned away from him again, and it took everything in him not to cup your face in his hands and turn you back to him. He had never seen you like this before. So… raw. Beaten. Trampled. Doused in self-hatred. He hated it.

And yet, he didn’t want to look away. He was slowly realizing that this was the part of you he had been desperate to see. Truth. Undercarriage. Weakness.

Human.

He swallowed, attempting to choose his words carefully. He had never been good with them, attributing his deficiency to a long line of likewise men before him. His brain poured for sonnets, poetry, prose that he had read in his insignificant time on this planet. Something to impress you, distract you, to take away that crestfallen look in your eye.

He couldn’t do it. He never would be. So, he used his mouth for something else.

Slowly, gentler than he ever had in his life, he brought his mouth to your cheekbone. You exhaled a prolonged breath, the heat of it cascading down the left side of his neck. It only prompted him to kiss you more, and more, and more. His lips traveling up into your hairline, across your forehead, down your nose, and finally onto your lips. His kiss there was tongueless, rather a soft press, and yet it meant more to him than any other one you had ever shared.

He could tell by your breathing that you agreed.

He pressed his forehead against yours, swallowing thickly. “I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t know…I don’t know what I would do if you did.”

Your stormy eyes turned into a sunrise, and Joel straightened his aching back to slowly remove his coat and boots. He placed them on the floor beside your bed, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. You watched him just the same, mouth propped open slightly.

He smirked as he set his things down. He then picked up the needle and thread while using his free hand to frame your face.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, his thumb stroking your chin. “I promise.”

You nodded. “I know you will.”

His lips wanted to meet yours so badly it hurt, but he needed to stitch you. Quickly. For a wound as deep as the one you had, it should have been closed up hours ago.

He wouldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t.

He walked to the edge of the bed and turned you around, leaning you into him slightly to give your pretzeled back some support, and began.  

You were surprisingly unreactive when he first inserted the needle, taking it as delicately as he possibly could. It wasn’t until he began to tug the skin together that your body showed signs of pain.

“You’re going too slow,” you mumbled softly after he finished the second stitch. “Please go faster.”

His hands began to shake at your request. He didn’t blame you. Speed would make it hurt worse, but be over with quicker. He squeezed the top of your shoulder in response, threading the needle quickly and stitching over the center of the wound.

You let out a high-pitched whine, gripping onto the comforter at your side, and he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your neck.

He let your breathing steady, then stitched again, this time kissing your shoulder blade.

Another stitch, a kiss across your shoulders.

Another stitch, a kiss down your spine.

Another stitch, a kiss on your lower back.

After every stitch, he planted one. Something in him couldn’t help it.

He made his final stitch and cut the thread quickly, sealing it with a kiss on the side of your face. He tasted a mix of salty tears and heat from your skin. He watched your throat bobble as he moved away, finishing off the wound with a final cleaning. Alcohol and blood filled the air, along with undertones of sweat.

He had a feeling that last aroma came mostly from him.

He threw the needle and thread away into the small garbage can you kept near your bed before turning back to face you. You rested on the balls of your palms, leaning back to look at him as he walked back towards you. There was pain visible behind your eyes, he could see it, but they were coated in something else. Something somehow rawer than before.

“You should rest now,” he said, scruff evident in his voice from lack of use. He cleared it quickly. “You took a hell of a hit.”

You didn’t move. Joel moved to the first aid kit still sitting in the middle of the bed and used the (what had to be decades old) wet wipes on his hands. He tossed those as well, but you still hadn’t moved.

“There somethin’ on my face?”

You cracked a small smile. “Thank you, Joel,” you said quietly.

He hummed. “Don’t mention it.” He then leaned forward and scooped your body into his arms. You involuntarily rested against him, eyes fluttering already, but he set you down beneath your sheets and swiftly pulled them over you.

He laughed at your fight against your own exhaustion, pushing stray hairs away from your forehead. He pulled away from you, beginning to walk out of the room. A fierce grip pulled him backwards.

“Stay,” you mumbled weakly. “Please stay.”

He inhaled deeply. The sweet cocktail of your voice mixed with those words fucking inebriating him, so much so he was surprised he was still standing up straight. He felt physically winded.

He squeezed your hand. “I’ll be right back. Stay down.”

You smiled, loosening your grip, letting your hand fall back into the bed.

Joel walked quietly out of the room but would be the last to admit how he practically sprinted to your kitchen and scoured your cabinets like a man being chased. He found your pain meds, pouring two into his hand, and filling up a small glass of water. He gave a slow, silent jog back to your room.

He felt equally as winded when he caught the view of the setting sun between your windows, glazing over you like a statue in Rome he had once seen on a traveling magazine. The streaks of leftover tears were highlighted in the light, as well as a small crease in your brow.

That is what told him you were not quite yet out cold.

He brought the meds and water to you, tucking your hair behind your ear to alert you of his presence. You opened your eyes and practically inhaled the medicine before laying back down on your side.

Joel removed his shirt in a blink and tucked himself in behind you, ensuring your stitches were not firmly pressed against him, but pressed just enough to ease soreness. You curved into him perfectly, as he did to you. He wrapped his arm around your frame, taking your hands in his and massaging them gently.

You hummed. “Promise you’ll stay?”

He knew your voice like that better than any man in the world.

He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder. “I’m stayin.’”

Tag List: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@untitledarea @avengersfan25 @lexloon @daphne-turner @leeeesahhh

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x #joel tlou #joel #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller x f!reader

[matchingbatbites]

For @steveshairychest and based on their post here. I read it and just couldn't resist <3

The thing is, Eddie knows that Steve is straight. Honestly, that's the only reason Eddie is as bold as he is, why he starts flirting with him in the first place. He's got years of repressed feelings towards the younger boy, and now they're friends, good friends, and Eddie feels comfortable letting loose some of that pent up attraction, knowing that Steve won’t shun him for it.

He does start off small, just to be safe, with pet names and terms of endearment like handsome, honey, sweetheart. Just little things that make Steve's mouth quirk in a smile, nothing to make him feel uncomfortable. The longer Eddie goes, though, the bolder he gets.

The first pickup line is a joke. They’ve been talking about some new beach movie that's just been released onto video when Steve mentions his lifeguard certification, and before Eddie can stop himself he says “It's a good thing you're a lifeguard, because I'm drowning in your eyes.” 

Steve laughs at that, not mean, just surprised, and is still grinning as he gives a half-hearted “Shut up, Eds,” and turns back to what he was working on. 

And, oh, Steve has no idea what he's done, because Eddie is instantly obsessed with the need to make Steve laugh, to pull out that playful side of him that’s so rare to witness. So Eddie pulls out every dumb pickup line in the book, tries his best to make him laugh again.

“Hey, Stevie, your hand looks lonely. Can I hold it for you?”

“Did you just come out of an oven? Because you're too hot to handle.”

“Is your dad a boxer? Because baby, you're a knockout.”

Most of the time Steve just rolls his eyes and grins, but every so often he’ll make that surprised laugh, or god forbid, he’ll giggle, and Eddie mentally crows in victory every time it happens.

The kiss thing is spur of the moment one day, when Eddie has been hanging out just to be around Steve, and causing a little bit of a racket in the store. After a while, Steve playfully shoves at Eddie's shoulder and says "Get out of here before you get me in trouble, man," and Eddie just grins as he leans into Steve's space. 

"What? No goodbye kiss before you send me off into the world?" 

And oh god, Steve actually blushes this time, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink, and oh fuck, Eddie is such a goner. Steve shakes his head and tries his best to hide a smile as he says "In your dreams, Eddie." 

"In my dreams it’ll be, then, handsome," Eddie replies with a grin, giving a mock salute on his way out the door.

It becomes a usual thing, Eddie hanging out and flirting and asking Steve for a kiss before he leaves. Every time, Steve's response is the same, that delightful blush covers his cheeks as he grins and pushes Eddie away with a "Keep dreaming," or a "You wish,” or even a half-assed “Fuck off, Eds.”

It all comes back to bite him in the ass when, for once, Eddie arrives at the video store to pick up Robin, instead of just doing his usual lazing about and bothering Steve.

Walking in, he doesn't see Buckley immediately, but he does spot his favorite person behind the counter and he beelines to Steve. He leans on the counter, elbows on the clean surface and chin in his hands as he bats his eyelashes at Steve.

"Hi Stevie! How's the prettiest boy in Hawkins today?" 

Steve looks over at him and Eddie feels like a deer in headlights when the man gives him a sly grin. He leans on the counter, arms crossed as he presses into Eddie’s space.

"I dunno, gorgeous, how are you doing?" 

All of Eddie's higher brain function just stops as Steve speaks. It’s such a stupid response, something that anyone else might have said if asked the same question, but for some reason it makes Eddie go dumb, cheeks flooding with color and mouth dropping in shock.

Steve’s grin widens and he tips his head to the side, looking like the cat who got the fucking canary. He reaches up and grabs a curl that had fallen from the messy bun Eddie had thrown his hair into, and twists the lock around his finger as he leans even closer.

"You look so fucking good today. Drives me crazy when you wear your hair up like this, sweetheart. Puts your whole neck on display, all that pretty skin just begging to be bitten and marked up."

And yeah, Eddie's brain must be leaking out of his ears, because it’s him, it’s Eddie, the master wordsmith who always has something to say, and all he can manage to get out in response is a single, stupid sounding "Uh.”

Steve's expression shifts to something more condescending and god, Eddie is so into it when he tugs on the curl again and coos "Aw, got nothin’ to say, baby doll? Can't take what you dish out?" 

An embarrassing whine finds its way into the air between them and fuck, Eddie has to go. He needs to leave before he makes an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, because Steve is looking at Eddie like he wants to eat him and his knees feel like jello and where the fuck is Robin??

As though summoned by just a thought, Robin breezes through the shop and throws out a casual “Steve, can you stop? I need him to drive me home and he can’t do that if his brain is mush.”

Eddie glances over as she walks past them, thinks Traitor! as she leaves him at Steve’s mercy and heads outside to his van. He looks back to Steve, at those hazel eyes alight with amusement and tries to get his brain to work.

“I need- uh- Robin-” he stammers, unable to even complete a thought as Steve smirks and leans in even closer, his nose almost brushing against Eddie's when he asks, "Can I get a goodbye kiss?" 

And Eddie could never say no to Steve, especially when the other is looking at him like that. He nods dumbly, hoping he doesn't look as desperate as he feels, and there's another tug on that curl.

"I need you to use your big boy words, sweetheart," Steve says, still tinged with condescension, and Jesus fucking Christ, this whole dynamic is really doing it for Eddie, more so than he ever thought it would.

"Yes, Steve- Please-" he says, fully prepared to start begging if he has to, if he can find the words to, but he's given a bit of mercy when Steve closes the gap between them.

It feels like he’s being electrocuted, and that's all he needs for his brain to get with the program, for his hands to finally respond as they fly up and tangle in honey locks as he kisses back.

Steve groans and presses closer, his tongue bullying its way into Eddie's mouth and Eddie can feel his limbs turning into goo as Steve kisses him thoroughly, those old King skills being put to good use as he wrecks Eddie with just this.

A car horn sounds from outside the shop and Steve pulls away, smirking again at Eddie's soft whine of protest. “You better go before Robin pitches a fit.” 

Eddie nods, still dumbstruck from the last few minutes and says "I- Yeah, okay. Uh, call me? Tonight?"

Steve hums and stands up straight, and Eddie can feel his brain power returning with the little bit of distance now between them. 

“Why don’t you come over after my shift? Say, 9?” Steve asks, giving Eddie that hungry look once again, and Eddie’s breath hitches.

“Yep, yes, I can- I’ll definitely do that,” he answers, taking a few steps back and trying his best not to stumble. “I’ll, uh, see you then, Stevie.”

Steve calls out “See you later, baby doll!” as Eddie scrambles for the door, and oh god, Eddie is fucked.

#the prompt was delicious and I totally ripped a line from it #ily and hope you like it #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #joey writes #i wanted eddie to be very silly goofy 'haha joking around with my best bud...unless👀' #and steve to be very straightforward cutthroat 'i know what i want and im gonna fucking get it' #because i feel like that fits them both well #ficlet

[coco-loco-nut]

loml

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: a journey through your relationship with max

a/n: so for a little background... my ex (he wasn't an F1 fan, it was never gonna work, let's be real) broke up with me the night before this album was released, so writing this series has been very healing; however, this one was extremely difficult to write bc it's the only song i can't analytically listen to and find the deeper meanings yet, especially after losing your first love. sorry for the rant and making this short🙃

tw: emotional abuse, manipulation

masterlist ttpd masterlist part two

________

You and Max were fan favorites, it was evident to anyone with eyes who had eyes. But they say you never know what happens behind closed doors.

“She’s the love of my life,” Max would always say about you, looking at you like you held the universe in the palm of your hand. His fans could recite your love story by heart from how much he loved to talk about you. It only made sense that he could shatter that public opinion.

“Y/n and I have divorced, I would like to ask for privacy as we navigate the changes,” Max posted one day, his socials wiped of everything. Your accounts remained the same, your last post being from the fateful race months ago. You haven’t posted since. The fans should’ve realized when the WAGs and George unfollowed Max.

Your apartment was full of things that reminded you of Max, every time you walked in it reminded you of every memory. He was embroidered in everything. You look at a printed photo of when you first met him. Despite it being six months later, you couldn’t get rid of him.

~~~

All it took was locking eyes with him across the pier for you to fall in love on that breezy summer day. He walked up to you and asked you to join him, and you did. You kissed him at the top of the ferris wheel later that night, and you didn’t even know he was famous all you knew was that he made you feel safe. The breeze reminded you of the warm ocean breeze from that day, one you called the winds of fate.

Despite being young, you married him after a year of being together. Things weren’t perfect even then, he could be incredibly mean, but he was also a standup guy when it mattered. That erased any wrongdoing of his.

“You have made me a better man, you reformed me, the love of my life,” Max had said that fall evening, repeating the one line that brought you back to him every time.

You believed his words, his lies spun to make you believe the hell you were living in was actually heaven. When he takes his anger out at you, doesn’t defend you against his father, you start to second guess him but he calls you those four words.

“I’ll never leave you, Schatje,” Max holds you in his arms, your back against his chest as you both look at a tv in the Paddock. The fans loved that photo, calling your love legendary. They didn’t know about the growing hole in your heart.

Your marriage was looking like one of those black and white movies you and Max watch on snowy winter afternoons. You and Max had been talking about starting a family, but you couldn’t get pregnant and you were watching everything you loved slip away.

“God, Max, you are like a con-man. I feel like I’ve been sold a get-love-quick scheme. What happened to you?” you ask, voice laced with hurt, during an argument about it. Max just ignored you, pushing past to stream with some friend. He ignored the sobs coming from your bedroom. He told the chat that you are the love of his life when asked about you.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” some of the WAGs pulled you aside during a race. They told you how Max was shit talking you to other drivers, saying you were a waste of a wife for your inability to get pregnant, saying he should’ve never married you, pointing out every flaw he told you was beautiful when he was lying to your face. You stand up and leave, not saying a word even when the girls try to stop you. Max is confused but simply responds to your text saying you were sick with an okay.

You are laying in your bed sobbing when Max gets back from the race. You face the terrace, where you and Max would dance under the stars. You can see the ghosts of it through your tears, and you wished you could un-recall when you thought you had everything.

“Please get out of bed,” Max says, his concerned tone laced with venom. Maybe the ghosts of your relationship are embarrassed by the scene on the other side of the glass.

“No,” you cry, mourning the loss of your counterfeit relationship.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Max sighs leaving the room. You sent a text to the WAG group chat who helped you remove all your belongings from Max’s apartment into George’s apartment that he wasn’t using at the moment.

Your phone is flooded with messages from Max, so you turn it off unless you are talking to your lawyer. Max finds a divorce petition and your apartment key on the dining room table when he comes home from training a few days later. The relationship that had such a valiant roar ended with the blandest goodbye.

You sit in George’s apartment with Carmen and Lily drinking wine. You took over George’s lease after they insisted that you did.

“For someone who claims to be a lion, he sure is a manipulative coward,” Carmen says as the three of you comb through the years of lies he spun.

You took the dreams that you thought you and Max wanted and lit the match to destroy them with your divorce papers. Despite your somber eyes, you seem more at peace, even with the sadness you will carry with you until you die.

“He’s the loss of my life.”

part two

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 grid #max verstappen #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #george russell

[somesecretpie]

Fans and Creators of Webtoons!

I want to talk about Line Webtoon’s new “Super Like” program and why it sucks for literally everyone.

What is a “Super Like?”

According to their website, super likes are a new way for webtoon creators to monetize their work. Readers can pay real money to buy a super like for their favorite webtoon, and the creator gets a fraction of that money.

Wait, a fraction? Not all of it?

Yep! Webtoon skims quite a chunk off the top.

30% goes to Webtoon, and then another 30% of that amount goes to the payment processor.

So what do creators get? 49 cents for every dollar their fans try to give them. Literally half.

That’s pretty ludicrous, right?

Interestingly enough, they announced that they had a “tipping system” in the works in the same email they ended the CANVAS creator rewards program (and many comic creators livelihoods)

They said tipping system in their social media posts too

Obviously this tipping system is referring to super likes right? They say they’re going to do a tipping system, and then this rolls out.

But “tips” are not something that buisinesses can just take a cut of, at least not in the United States. According to the Department of Labor, it is illegal for any amount of tips from customers to go to an employer.

Webtoon is trying to walk back this language, of course. You won’t find the word “tip” anywhere on their website page explaining how it works. But those old social media posts are still up.

This is all pretty scummy

But wait, it gets worse!

They removed the Patreon button at the end of episodes and replaced it with this:

Yep! That’s right. Webtoon really said “what if we replace the tipping system that already existed with a shittier one where you only get half of it 🥺”

Unsurprisingly, they faced a ton of backlash.

Webtoon was quick to point out that the Patreon button was only removed from the end of episodes and there was still a button on the creator’s homepage. But of course, the end of episodes is where that button matters the most.

Creators know this. Webtoon knows this.

Eventually, after days of continued complaints from creators on social media, Webtoon went on damage control mode and announced that they would be putting the Patreon button back at the end of episodes—

As of right now (May 11th, 2024) the Patreon button is still not back.

***

So…Super likes are “super totally not a tip.”

But if they aren’t tips…what are they?

Well there’s a bit more to the story of what a super like actually is. After announceing the program, the app updated to reveal a new ranking category on the front page

When you click on this ranking tab, you can see that there is now both a daily and weekly ranking

If you’re a CANVAS creator, you know how difficult and seemingly random it can be to get your comic on the front page of the app—so my immediate worry was that comic creators were going to buy superlikes on their own series to get in this ranking and…

Yep, that’s already happening.

But why would webtoon even allow creators to buy superlikes for themselves? How does that make sense?

Surely goading desperate creators into buying superlikes can’t be that lucrative, can it?

No. I think there’s another, possibly even worse reason.

Fandom wars

If you’re into music, you probably are aware of how common it is for super fans to make concerted efforts to get their favorite musician to the top of the billboard charts. They coordinate over social media, stream music on loop as soon as an album drops to inflate the numbers, buy albums in bulk to increase sales, all so that they can say their fav is number one. It’s especially common among K-pop fans and swifties

This phenomena is well documented

Fans of Webtoons can be just as ravenous as K-pop, so I think Webtoon is trying to capitalize on this. They want to encourage fandom war and make money. That’s why they have this ranking. Not only can super fans brag about their favorite series topping the charts but they can wear their super like proudly on their reader profile that webtoon will be rolling out soon.

They’re just testing this super like stuff out on CANVAS right now, but once this starts up with originals? Oh. It will be a very profitable, very terrible mess.

(Oh and I mean profitable for webtoon, not creators, in case that wasn’t clear.)

***

Anyway, if you’re a creator, do yourself a favor and don’t enable super likes.

If you’re a fan of a webcomic, just donate to that creators patreon or Ko-Fi to show your support. Don’t give a red cent to webtoon because they did not do any of the work to make the series you love, alright?

Also check out my webtoon haha.

#webtoon #super likes #webtoon super likes #webtoon super like #super like program #monetization #comics #comic #webcomic #Patreon #webtoon canvas #webtoon creator rewards #webtoon fans #webtoon fan #webtoon creator #artists on tumblr #weird comics

[venusacrossthestars]

putt-putt

pairing- Lando Norris x fem!reader

wc- 1.3k

summary- You and Lando are too competitive for you own good, so what is a better date idea than a round of putt-putt

a/n: this is a little b-day gift for my bestest friend @arieslost I LOVE YOU BESTIE.

f1 masterlist

“Babe, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

If someone walked in and saw the look on Lando’s face they would assume that you just kicked the poor man’s dog. But the truth to Lando’s sad expression- your insistence that a mini-golf date was not at all a great idea that Lando chalked it up to be. 

Lando stares up at you from where his head rest on your lap, his lips pouted out, “Why not?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that? Do you remember the last time we went? Or the time we played Mario Kart, Uno, Monopoly. Do you remember anytime we played something that had us competing against each other.” Lando continues to stare at you, as if he has no idea what you are talking about. 

“Lando! Seriously?! We each get pissy at each other. We are both too competitive for our own good.” 

Lando shoots up from were he was laying, startling you. He reaches across you to where his phone lays on the side table, “But babe, you haven’t even seen how cool this place is!” He shoves his now unlocked phone in your face, “See!” 

You move back and take Lando’s phone from his hand. You see that he already has their Instagram paged pulled up. You scroll through a couple of their post. 18 holes, Atlantis themed, has an aquarium, good photo opportunities. 

“It is nice,” you agree. 

“Babe. Please.” 

Your resolve crumbles in a matter of seconds, “Fine, but I have 2 conditions,” you watch Lando’s face fall, “1- You will not, and I mean, NOT, do that spiderman-whatever-it-is pose on the course and 2- If an argument or anythings breaks out and we get pissy at each other I get to say I told you so.” 

“Deal!”

The first ‘disagreement’ of the day occurred not even 2 holes into the course. Lando claimed that you had purposely aimed for his ugly neon green ball. 

“You did that on purpose!” 

You stand there with a bewildered look on your face, “Are you kidding me? Your ball is right in the middle of the damn way. Of course I’m going to hit it!” 

This is exactly why you couldn’t stand playing against Lando. When the two of you played together against other people, you guys were a powerhouse, unstoppable. Putting the two of you against one another, well the results were what you were dealing with now. 

“Lando I swear to God I will leave you here and you can walk home. Remember our ‘deal’? Because I do.”  You wave your golf club at him in a warning manner. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry baby.” 

You sigh out, you could never stay made at Lando when he gave you that puppy dog eyes look, “It’s fine, let’s just try and have a good time.” 

The two of you move through the course, you’re keeping score with a baby pencil on the little piece of paper one of the workers gave you when you picked out your balls, not trusting Lando to put down the correct score. 

“Awww. Babe, look your favorite food,” You point to the fish in aquarium that lines the next hole. 

You hear Lando make a noise and a pinch in your side. “That one looks like you,” Lando tells you as he points to the ugliest fish in the tank. 

You ram you elbow back, hitting him right in the stomach, “You ass. Keep it up and you’ll be sleeping with them.” 

“Come on, we got like, 7 holes left.” Lando grabs you hand and drags you away to the next hole. 

Lando drops his ball on the green, lines up his shot and swings. You watch as the ball bounces off the barrier and rolls right into the hole. “Hole in one babyyyyyy!” He exclaims, club raised over his head. “I’d like to see you do that.” 

“Bet.” Is all you say as Lando walks over to hole to retrieve his ball. He moves off to the side and watches as you line up your shot, a smirk resting on his face. 

You swing, and your ball does the same thing that Lando’s did, resulting in you own hole in one. 

“Hole in one babyyyyyy!” You mimic his early reaction. You do his same winning motion and you watch his smirk fall with a smirk of your own. 

The two of you aren’t the only people in here, there is a family a four ahead of you and another couple behind you. As Lando and you are walking to the next hole you can’t help but glance back at the couple, who, unlike you and Lando, are being all lovey dovey. The boyfriend is helping the girl with her swing, standing behind her, holding her hands as they swing the club together. 

You nudge Lando, “See we could be like them,” you point to the couple, “instead we’re two competitive a-holes.” 

Lando shrugs. “I like your competitiveness, gives me my money worth.” 

“Well be sure to keep that mentality after I beat your ass.” 

“We still have 3 more holes,” Lando points out. 

“Yeah, but with how bad you’re doing, I think I got this in the bag.” 

“Don’t count all your eggs before they hatch.” 

“Chickens, babe. Chickens. It’s- don’t count all your chickens before they hatch.” 

“Wait, then what’s the egg one?” 

“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket?” You say unclear to which one he is referring to.

“That’s it!” 

You roll your eyes, “You’re lucky your handsome.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you pat him on the shoulder and start walking to the next hole. 

“No, what did you mean by that?” Lando calls out from behind you and all you can do is giggle. 

It’s the last hole and maybe Lando was right, you shouldn’t have counted all your chickens before they hatched. Because the past two holes Lando has managed to get two holes in one, you on the other hand were plundering. 

“So, we’re tied right now. This is the last hole, therefore, the tie-breaker.” 

“Do you want to go first?” 

“I guess.” Honestly no, you didn’t want to go first. You rather watch how Lando does first, then try to replicate whatever he did, your strategy you’ve been using the entire game. 

You line up your shot and swing. A very underwhelming delivery on your end. Lando goes and has the same result. Second swing same thing, ultimately closer to the hole before. Lando swings and his ball is just a little behind yours. Third swing, and PLUNK, right into the hole. You hold in your celebration, Lando could still tie. Lando goes for his turn, and he puts to much force in his swing, his ball goes in and right back out of the hole. It’s on his fourth try that his ball makes it in. 

“YES! I WON!” Your shout draws the attention of the couple behind you, you give them an apologetic look. You turn your attention to Lando, who is looking at you with nothing but adoration. 

“Well done,” Lando gives you a little golf clap and you take a bow. 

“I guess I don’t get to tell you I told you so.” You say as the two of you walk in the parking lot hand-in-hand. 

“Wow, we actually had a nice outing and that’s all you can say,” 

You stop and jerk Lando’s hand towards you, “I had a fun time, even if we did get a little competitive.” 

Lando’s hands move to you waist and pull you into a hug, “I had a fun time too, even though I lost.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser.” 

He wouldn’t say anything today, but maybe sometime in the future he would tell you that he purposely swung a little too hard on his third turn so that his ball would bounce out of the hole. But for now he could live with the little white lie, as long as it made you happy.

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[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | pink skies

a/n: bf!luke, who else cheered?; suggests that five star and luke spent the night but nothing explicit! i decided not to let the angst monster touch them. they're my babies!!!! five star and luke get behind me!!!

viii. pink skies by lany

series masterlist | previous | next

there were many things about luke castellan that surprised you. one being that he wore glasses, or at least is supposed to wear glasses. he refused to wear them, against the sound medical advice of his optometrist and his mom’s insistence. his first adult responsibility was buying his own contacts because his mom refused to set up the appointments for him out of spite. he only wore his glasses when he was around the boys and poisoned mercury’s management team, but never out in public, and definitely never on stage. 

two, he loved jazz music. only a handful of people knew this about him and half of those who do, don’t believe him. he supposed it was hard for people to believe that a pop punk lead singer would have an appreciation for jazz music, but luke loved it. jazz always sounded romantic and sensual and there was something calming about it. he listened to jazz before each show. he’ll never admit this unless you twist his arm, but he wept like a goddamn baby when he first watched la la land. 

third, he was a polyglot, which he says is a little ironic because according to his mom, he spoke his first words in english significantly later than his peers, but he picked up on other languages quickly. he first found out about his talent in high school when he started hanging out at the rodriguez household and chris’ mom and sisters started saying phrases to him in spanish. he started taking spanish classes in high school and kept teaching himself when he dropped out. so far he can speak spanish, italian, and a bit of french. he attempted to learn greek, but it never clicked for him. he knew how to read it but his pronunciation was atrocious. he promised he’d try again sometime soon, but who knows if that’ll happen.

fourth, his idea of pillow talk was the two of you asking random questions to each other to get to know each other better, which is how you learned all these things about him. after one thing led to another last night, you fell asleep to the sound of luke’s voice against your ear. it wasn’t even that late; the group hadn’t come back from their trip to get food after they left the party, but you and luke were sleepy as you lay in the tangled sheets of your bed, at peace. 

you learned that he was ticklish on the side of his ribs and that he planned to get a tattoo there but when the artist tried to put the stencil on his skin, he giggled and moved around so much that the artist warned him about his placement. he didn’t end up getting the tattoo there, but instead got it a little lower on his torso. luke had six tattoos, making him the one in the band with the least amount. the stolls were tattoo fiends and made it their mission to get a small tattoo from each place they visited on tour. luke’s personal favorite was the single line on the side of their index finger. it was a messily done stick-n-poke after one too many drinks in new jersey. 

when he was younger, he used to climb on the roof of his house in connecticut. his parents warned him that he was going to hurt himself one day, but he, being the rascal that he was, never listened. until one day, after a light rain, he’d gone up there and slipped on the shingles and fell face-first against the roof. he scratched his face pretty badly, hence the scar on his face now. he told people that he got the scar from a bar fight because it sounded cooler. one day his childhood pictures will be posted on some website and his cover story won’t be as believable anymore, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets there. 

it was weird to fall asleep next to someone. you hadn’t found yourself in this position in a long time, longer than you’d care to admit. when you hooked up with people in college, you purposefully made up some excuse about why they had to leave before sun up. “my roommate will be back soon.” “i have a huge test tomorrow morning.” “my friend just called and said she needed my help so i gotta go.” but with luke, you didn’t feel the need to make up an excuse to kick him out. you didn’t want him to go. 

he asked the silent question as he was putting his clothes back on, hesitantly approaching your bedroom door to exit. he didn’t know if he was overstaying his welcome. he didn’t want to rush you when it came to things like this. so when he’d asked where his other shoe went, not caring about where it landed in the heat of the moment, you shrugged your shoulders and said, “dunno. we’ll figure it out in the morning, come back to bed.” 

you didn’t need to tell him twice. 

luke woke up before you did. you were lying on his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck. your breaths made his skin tingle. he twirled the ends of your hair around his fingers, taking in the view of you next to him. he could get used to waking up like this every morning, he thought. he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day. 

you stirred, craning your head to face him as your eyes fluttered open, a subdued smile on your face, “g’mornin.” 

“g’mornin’, five star,” he replied, lips immediately leaning over to press against yours. he frowned when you pulled back, shaking your head, “let me kiss you.” 

“i have morning breath,” you cringed, moving your arm from under you to caress the nape of his neck. you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, making him groan. 

“i don’t care,” he pouted, nudging your nose with his own. you rolled your eyes but let him kiss you. the kiss was lazy and languid, lips moving gracefully against each other. it was sweet and slow like you were both trying to soak in this feeling with each other. you broke the kiss when you broke out into a smile, suddenly feeling shy. 

“it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your clock behind luke. “we need to get up soon.” 

“five more minutes,” he placed a string of kisses on your shoulder blade, grinning at the red marks he left on your skin from last night. “let’s stay here a little longer.” 

you had a feeling here meant something more than just the comfort of your bed. here was the bubble you both allowed yourself to stay in for the last twelve hours, a little universe that was just for the two of you. it was different kissing luke in the darkness of the night. you could blame it on the secrecy of it all, shadows hiding your feelings for him, no expectations or weight of the dreaded conversation, but in the morning light, you felt vulnerable. you knew the mature thing to do was to ask him about what last night meant. was it just a one-time thing? would things change between the two of you now that the chase was over? you didn’t know. 

little did you know, luke was thinking the same things as you. he would prolong this safe haven for as long as he could in case he would never get to experience it again. luke tightened his grip around your waist, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your forehead. he couldn’t stop himself. he got a taste of what it was like to be with you and now, he couldn’t get enough. he’d find any excuse to have his lips on you. he grinned at you as he pulled away, “you snore, you know that?” 

you buried your face in your pillow, embarrassed, “stop it.” 

he laughed, “it’s cute, five star! i don’t mind it.” 

“are you sure?” you asked, scrunching your face up in disgust, “i can’t in good conscience let you sleep over again if you don’t even get any sleep because i snore.” 

“consider your conscience cleared because i really don’t mind,” luke pressed his lips against yours again. gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. “this makes up for it.” 

“ew,” you shoved him playfully, sitting up to start getting ready for the day. luke remained flat on his back on your bed, “you’re so fucking corny.”

he propped his head up on his extended elbow, a smirk on his face. the rays of sunlight that peeked through your blinds illuminated his toned chest. faint scratches and pink marks contrasted his tanned skin. “guilty.” 

you got up from bed, digging out a clean sweater from your closet. you wandered around your room, organizing things as you went on. luke watched you from your bed, eyes following your every move. his white shirt was peeking out from under the sweater. your sleep shorts showed off your toned legs perfectly. your hair was a mess, braids undone, but you still looked gorgeous. he blinked as your eyes darted to him, “you look beautiful.” 

you rolled your eyes, narrowing your eyes at him, “you can’t even see me properly. you don’t have your contacts in.” 

he’d taken them off before he fell asleep. he hated sleeping with contacts in. he’d snuck out in the middle of the night to grab his glasses from his nightstand before slipping back into bed with you. he was thankful you were a pretty heavy sleeper because he didn’t want you to think he was sneaking out to leave you by yourself after last night. when luke returned to his side of the bed, you rolled over and cuddled into him in your sleep, like you’d been waiting for him to return. 

luke reached over to retrieve his glasses from your bedside table and placed them on his face. he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose and shrugged, “still beautiful.” 

you walked over to him, sitting on his lap with your thighs caging him in. you held his face in your hands, admiring how he looked with the frames on his face. luke’s hands made their way to your waist, steadying you. you smiled, “i like how you look with your glasses.” 

a lopsided smile appeared on his face, boyish and charming. “yeah?” 

“mhm,” you hummed, “you look like a nerd. s’cute.” 

“pfft,” he scoffed, poking your side, “i’m not a nerd. i’m a rockstar.” 

“shut the fuck up,” there was no venom in your voice, despite your words. you couldn’t muster any resemblance of annoyance when he was looking at you all doe-eyed and pouty-lipped. you moved from on top of him, crawling over to your empty spot, “luke?” 

he turned to you, “five star?” 

“what are we doing?” 

“we’re spending the day in bed,” he replied, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew that the conversation was coming in soon. he was scared of what you’d say next. 

your smile vanished as your shoulders hunched over, “you know what i mean.” 

luke rubbed his jaw, “you tell me.” 

luke didn’t know what he should say. he didn’t want to say that last night meant nothing to him because he’d be lying if he said that and he didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how he really felt. it felt like a situation he couldn’t win. his pessimism was hounding him. he didn’t want to mess this up before it had the chance to start. 

“are we just fucking around? is this casual because i–” 

at first he thought he could handle it. he’ll let you take the lead, he’ll follow you. whatever you wanted, he’s game for it, even if it meant that he got hurt along the way. but then the word casual left your lips and it felt like he was slapped across the face. he thought he could handle it if you wanted you guys to be casual or friends who kiss sometimes or friends who occasionally do more than kissing sometimes, but actually hearing you use those words made him tense.

“please don’t ever use those words about us again,” luke breathed out, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed five star, but there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you.”

“i think we need to start talking to each other more,” you pondered. “because there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you either.” 

“throw a guy a bone sometimes. you’ve tormented me for two months. how was i supposed to know that?” he teased.

you cocked an eyebrow, “but yet you like me so really what does it say about you?” 

just like that, the indecision faded. it was back to just you and luke. the same way you’d always teased each other and pushed each other’s buttons. you’d both been stressed about what the other was thinking when you should’ve just talked to each other. perhaps all the poets and the writers in the world were onto something when they said that communication is key because you two wasted so much time running away from what this could be. it was funny really, how the two of you were both keeping these things to yourself, too scared of how you felt for each other to make a move. how much sooner could this have happened if you told him how you felt the minute you realized it? would he have kissed you a month ago? would you have been waking up with him beside you on your bed for weeks? who knows? 

“it says more about you, to be honest,” he said, “you’re irresistible. even when you’re mean to me, i adore you.” 

“you’re such a flirt, castellan.” 

“i need to up my game,” luke chuckled, “yeah, i got the girl but now i gotta work to keep you.” 

you placed a hand on your chin, pretending to think, “i don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s girl.” 

“you’re breaking my heart, five star,” he sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. he dropped his body weight on yours, making you squeal and attempt to push him off. he laughed at your efforts. “be my girl?” 

“on one condition.”

“anything.” 

“let me hear the song.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh, rolling over on the bed. he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. there was never a moment where he wasn’t on his toes when he was with you. he didn’t expect you to say that. you really were stubborn when it came to things you put your mind to. that fucking song. “no, i told you it’s not ready!” 

you stuck your tongue out at him, “then no.” 

luke’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a goofy grin appeared on his face. he pulled you on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. he moved your hair to one side, kissing down the other side of your neck in soft, quick motions. he mumbled into your skin, “fine, but i’m following you around like a lost puppy. i’m yours.” 

you sighed dreamily, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. you couldn’t help but make fun of him despite the butterflies in your stomach, “simp.” 

you felt him nod against your body, “that’s me.” 

“we really need to get out of bed.” 

“five more minutes?” 

it had been at least fifteen since he last asked for more time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. you gave in and got back under your covers with him. you let him be the small spoon this time, your arms wrapped around his toned back, smiling at the soft sighs that left his lips when you ran your fingers down his spine. he kissed your collarbones, face relaxing as sleep overtook him again. 

you watched him fall asleep and reached for your phone, trying not to disturb his rest. you snapped a quick picture of him, smiling as you admired his features. you were falling for luke castellan.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

[taetr4ck]

Can i request a drabble about how skz will treat you like a princess as their s/o?

Also, can i be "💌" anon?

and all these little things —

he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars. 

skz!hyung line x reader, 1.1k words overall, brief mention of struggling with food (nothing descriptive) — fluff, comfort, a sprinkle of angst. maknae line here

a/n : hi of course my love !!! the moment i received this ask i never opened my laptop this fast LMFAOOOOOOOOO and yes of course, you can be 💌 anon! welcome to my blog, and i hope you enjoy this request !! ily <3 and pardon me for breaking this into two parts ,, i’ve been itching to post this 😭 my attention span is actually comparable to a goldfish 😞 but the maknae line is almost finished! just need to sprinkle some spice here and there

bang chan who acknowledges your inner child — 

A promise — a promise Chan swore to himself that he would love every inch and aspect of you, including your inner child that was once abandoned and neglected. He never failed to make you feel loved, a love one can’t find anywhere else – a love that was made for you. He’s lovely, he’s lovely. His affection makes your whole being buttery, smoothly melting in his touch. His love is different from anyone else’s – it’s as if your heart bloomed with flowers that smell like him, and the surroundings suddenly light up when he enters the room. 

He never neglected you. Not even once. His gaze is always fixated on you every time you talk – your voice is a sweet melody to him as if every word you say is coated with honey. 

Tap, tap, tap. The gentle taps of his finger on your skin when you feel like the world is deceiving you give you a sense of comfort – accompanied by an arm wrapping around your defeated, exhausted body, keeping you safe and understood. The familiar gesture and warmth seeping into your skin keep you grounded amidst your sobs, those sobs that never fail to make his heart shatter every time you surrender your tired soul to him. He whispers sweet mumbles in your ear, as if his only goal is to protect you. He is love, he is solace itself. 

He is the aurora that loves in what in you is unfinished, the aurora that embraces the little child in the shackles of your healing heart. The world may be against you, but you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine; he’s always here.

lee know who cooks a hearty meal for you — 

There was never a day when Minho didn’t cook for you. The living space is always surrounded by the aroma of his cooking – making your stomach growl with anticipation. He smiles as he hands you a bowl full of your favorite food, looking at you with stars in his eyes. The simple gesture is enough to make your heart flutter, tugging at every string. Eating the meal together that he wholeheartedly made is enough for him to die a happy man – for him, it’s more than enough. Sharing a meal together is a love language, his love language.

When he’s away, he sends you recipes for you to make on your own. It reminds you of the times he always cooked for you – your arms wrapped around his waist, leaning on the circle of his back. His warmth may be absent at the moment, but his love and familiarity still permeate through the quiet shared space. You will see him soon, just wait a little longer.

In times when eating isn’t an option, silently working at the desk in your shared bedroom, Minho is always here to remind you to eat. He knows the feeling of working on an empty stomach, and he doesn’t want you to experience the same agony. From hourly fruit snacks to full meals delivered right to your table, he never fails to make you feel as if you deserve to be cared for. You deserve to be cared for. It’s as if he’s an angel in disguise, destined only for you to pamper and nurture. In times when you can’t take care of yourself, he does it for you. He plays the role he chose, to cherish and love you as a whole.

changbin who never lets you lift a hand — 

The living embodiment of chivalry, as they always say about him. Changbin never lets you lift a hand – not even a finger. The door of his car, the door of your favorite restaurant, the bags of groceries with a cute backstory – Changbin giggles and smiles at you every time you pick something from the grocery shelf, red hearts evident in both of his eyes, showing how lovestruck he is – completely captivated by you. 

Changbin goes to the extent of even carrying your things – your pretty handbag, your school or work backpack – he doesn’t want you to strain even a fiber of your muscle. Heck, he’d even carry you if he wanted to. Whatever it is, he got you. 

He loves to serve you, and he's sworn to be devoted to you. Love always has a center, and it’s you who centers his heart and his whole being. You’re his princess, and he is the knight. The knight who’s willing to do anything, ready to carry it all – he’s willing to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that's what it takes to be with you. He doesn’t want anything in return; he just wants you to stay by his side and let him take care of the rest. He adores you more than you'll ever know, and he surely knows he was made for you.

hyunjin who notices every detail — 

He who notices everything — your hair, your perfume, the shade of your new lipstick – everything. Nothing can escape Hyunjin’s loving gaze, as if his eyes were made to look at you – to worship every inch of your skin, to tell you you’re beautiful, beautiful that he can ever endure. He looks at you as if you were the only thing that matters to him. You’re beautiful. He looks at you like you are more than the pain you’ve ever endured. You don’t understand why, but he never fails to make you feel things – tugging heartstrings every time he utters his worship, your skin heating to the feel of his feathery touch – his touch that feels like home, his kisses that feel like a sanctuary. 

“You’re so beautiful,” those are exactly the words he always says. Every time you wake up, gaze still unsteady; every time you two go out for a date, every time you’re stressed – hair disheveled, dark circles evident under your eyes. And even when you’re in slumber – whispering his never-ending devotion beside your sleeping figure, full of content and peace. His tone is full of sincerity, making your heart flutter with tenderness and adoration. His love makes you overwhelmed, but that’s only because his love is always honest. 

Hyunjin spent most of his life running away from love until you gave him the courage to try. It’s like you’re the rose that suddenly bloomed in a garden full of camellias. After a long time of suffering from longing and madness, love was finally bestowed upon him. The first bite of your pure and genuine love seemed to have taken him aback; each bite overwhelming to the core. Your sudden entrance into his life silenced the monsters in his mind – ceasing every inch of darkness surrounding within. He didn’t prepare, he was never prepared. You’re his light, providing love and sunshine with no end. He’s a hopeless romantic, after all. Except that it’s not hopeless anymore.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet / taglist form

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

#ᨳ ✦ % : from the monochrome film 🎞️ #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids comfort #stray kids angst #bang chan #bang chan x reader #lee know #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #changbin #seo changbin #changbin x reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabble #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz comfort #skz fluff #skz angst #skz bang chan #skz lee know

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱, 𝗶'𝗺 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 | 𝘭𝘩43 ♔

➪ summary: the relationship between luke and his girlfriend is special, but the bond between his girlfriend and his brothers is adorable; or four times quinn and jack helped out their brother's girlfriend when she was in need

➪ warnings: finals (physics to be exact), hate comments, slight mentions to threats, car breaking down, slight mentions to being followed, fights, crying, asshole-ish luke

➪ word count: 3.5k

➪ file type: fic

➪ sunny's notes: welcome back to the blog, apologies for me deleting my account and coming back but anyway. I'll be posting the old fics here and there, i'm thinking about trying to get them all back before i start posting new fics. the taglist will be intact from before, but i'll only use it for the first couple of posts and then i'll probably stop using it until i start posting new fics again. i hope your guys' support will be the same or better as the last blog :)

nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

⟹ The One with the Finals | Quinn - Winter of 2023

The day before her physics final, y/n was in tears. There were papers not only all over her desk but on the walls and the ground as well. The whiteboard that hung in her apartment was littered with kinematics equations and a bunch of random vocabulary words that probably weren’t necessary for her final. 

More tears sprung in her eyes as she looked at her review guide, “Who the fuck knows this shit?”

Her roommates had already gone home, finishing their finals the day before so she was alone. It was almost 7 and she had been studying for six hours, maybe more. She knew she should stop and take a break, make some dinner, maybe even watch a movie, but she couldn’t, not now, not when her grade was on the line. 

She was so close, oh so close to being done but the last question was too much for her. It sent her brain into overdrive, the wires were crossed, and nothing made sense anymore, not that it ever did anyway. She let out a noise, a cross between a groan and a whine, and threw her notes down and her pencil across the room. 

She took a peak at her phone and noticed the mass amount of messages from her boyfriend, a few from her parents, and a few from Luke’s family. The boy was so worried that he made his parents and Quinn and Jack text her just to see if she would answer, but she didn’t.

Now, no offense to Jack (but offense) and no offense to Luke, but they weren’t always the brightest of the bunch. Which is why she called Quinn, tears still obviously present.

“I’m going to fail.”

“Y/n? Luke’s been calling you for hours.”

“Yes, I know. I was studying for physics, and I’ve concluded that I’m going to fail.”

Quinn sat up from where he was lying on his bed, “No, you’re not.”

She let out a sob, “I am and then I’m going to get kicked out of school and everyone’s going to make fun of me and then Luke won’t want to date me anymore and then you guys will stop talking to me-”

“Hey! Calm down, none of that is going to happen because it’s not possible, y/n/n. What’s your GPA right now?”

“A 4.0.”

Quinn laughed, “Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re fine. I promise you, but if you feel that badly about it, I’ll help you study.”

“Really?”

“No, I’m fucking with you. Of course, I’ll help you. You’re my favorite sibling after all.”

“I’m not even related to you.”

“Yet.”

Y/n sent the PDF of the review guide to Quinn, who now sat at his desk on his computer. The two talked and studied with one another before Quinn realized the lack of color in the girl’s face, “Have you eaten yet?”

Y/n looked at him and then quickly looked down shamefully, “No.”

Quinn looked like he was going to yell at her but in reality, he was just worried, and the tiniest bit frustrated with her for not taking care of herself, not that he would ever tell her that though, “Go make dinner, you can bring me with if you want. I’ll even make my own.”

“But-”

“No, you’ll think better if you eat.” That could’ve been a total lie, but she would’ve listened to him anyway.

She took her phone and computer with her, still talking to Quinn as she made some ramen - the good kind, not the crappy instant one. Quinn smiled, happy with himself for making his brother’s girlfriend - or if he had it his and Jack’s way, his sister -  take care of herself and feel better.

『••✎••』

She had just gotten done with her final and she screamed internally, walking out of the room and heading to her dorm, waiting for her family to pick her up. She called Quinn immediately after she stepped out of the building. 

“Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Guess what?!”

Quinn had been on his way to practice when he got the phone call, “What?”

“I passed!”

Quinn smiled, “See I told you, you would.”

“Thank you!"

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ The One with the Haters | Jack - Fall of 2023

It never really bothered her, and Luke always said it shouldn’t. Yet, when Luke started his rookie year and gained more attraction, so did she. They were worse than what they were before, they came in mass amounts, the words dug deeper, and everything seemed to escalate. 

This wasn’t something that should’ve burdened Luke, he had enough to deal with it being his rookie season and trying to perform as well as he could, he didn’t need to hear about his fans attacking his girlfriend as well. Luke was, let’s just say, the most oblivious of them all. So she didn’t really have to worry about him finding out about it, anyway.

However, Jack knew about her mood changes. Every time she visited the two in New Jersey, she distanced herself from them, she took notice of who was around them when they went out and strategically sat next to Luke so people wouldn’t make accusations of her favoring Jack over him but not too close to him that it would seem like she’s attached and overbearing him.

He also took notice of the comments on his brother’s Instagram posts or whenever the wags would post y/n at a game. 

‘He’s too good for her.’

‘Why does she even come? It’s obvious he doesn’t want her there, he doesn’t even play well when she’s there.’

‘She’s just using him.’

‘I don’t know what he sees in her.’

‘She’s not that pretty.’

Those barely scratched the surface of the comments. There were more, most about her looks and another good chunk of them just saying how the two didn’t make sense together. But the ones that hurt the worst, were the ones that came up once or twice in every ten posts. The ones that were about her using him, the ones that made threats to her and her family. The ones claiming that they knew everything about her life. The ones that said she was cheating on Luke with Jack or Quinn.

Jack had his fair share of hate comments, many of which he remembered from his rookie season. He knew how it felt to have someone close to him be praised so much and then be torn down for simply having a relationship with them and not being as good. 

The Devils were visiting Detroit near the late end of November and y/n decided to go to the game, hanging out with them the two days that they flew down early to be with her before the game. They were out at a restaurant and y/n was sitting in the very corner of the booth that they got.

Luke sat down next to her as Jack slid into the booth across from them, still bantering with his brother. Luke was oblivious to the distance between him and y/n, shrugging it off as if she was just hot despite the temperature outside. Luke and Jack continued to talk about the game, stopping for the waiter to take their order who just so happened to be a fan of the Devils. Y/n rolled her eyes as she subtly flittered with her boyfriend, giving Jack a look. 

The waiter walked away and Luke got up and left to the bathroom, “So when are you going to tell him? Or are you waiting for him to figure it out by himself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n dug her face into the menu, avoiding eye contact with Jack.

“Uh huh, sure. Then what are these?” Jack showed the girl his phone, comments from Luke’s most recent post showing. 

“Jack.”

“Y/n.”

“There’s not much he can do about it anyways, they’ll keep doing it no matter what. Besides, they’re not wrong.”

“He has a right to know and no, nothing they say is true. You are Luke’s world and he will defend you until he dies. If someone is threatening you, which there is, he will find a way to stop it. And Quinn and I will help too. We want you safe.” Jack reached over the table to pat her shoulder. 

She nodded, “Just talk to him. Okay?”

『••✎••』

Later that night, Luke was in bed with y/n, both of them on their phones. Luke was playing a game and y/n was on Instagram. She hadn’t actively searched out the comments but when she saw a post of her with 200 comments under it, she had to look, and they weren’t all that different from what she was expecting. 

“Luke?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Have you seen the comments?”

“What comments?”

“These.” She handed Luke her phone and watched as he scrolled through them, and before he could say anything, she took it back and showed him her DM’s. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could’ve done something to stop this.” She just shrugged.

“Sweetheart, this is scary. I don't want you to have to endure this by yourself.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“But you’re not. I know everyone thinks I’m oblivious, and yes, sometimes I am, but I can see you’re hurting and you have been for a while. I might not have known why or how but I was so worried about you, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to stop this.”

Luke placed his hands on her face and she wrapped her hands around his wrists. His thumbs lightly rubbed over her face, just under her eye, as hers rubbed up and down his hands, stopping at his knuckles to rub over them as well. She smiled slightly at him but was still worried about everything that was going on. 

“Hey,” Luke made her look up at him. “Everything is going to work out, no matter how long or how much it’s gonna take. I’m going to get Quinn and Jack to help, I’ll have the team help as well. We’re all going to help to make sure you and your family are safe. I promise.”

She nods, “Okay.”

He kissed her forehead before her lips and pulled back to smile at her. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ The One with the Car | Quinn + Jack - Summer of 2023

Despite dating for three years, y/n was never really the biggest fan of letting Luke help her, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anyone helping her, to be honest. That’s why when she was in the middle of nowhere, scared out of her mind and not thinking straight, she hesitated to call her boyfriend. 

It was the summer, she had been visiting the Hughes family at the lake house and she had gone to get some food for dinner for her, Quinn, and Jack. She wasn’t lost per se, when she left she knew how to get back home, she had been there countless times before. Yet, she felt as if she was being followed and that scared her, causing her to go a different route home, one she wasn’t that familiar with, and even then she sort of knew where she was. 

The car was still following her so she decided to start taking random turns here and there and when she did the trick she was taught, take four right turns, they left after the first one. She let out a deep breath and continued to drive, just to see if they would pop up again, but they didn’t and now she was in the middle of nowhere, with an almost empty tank of gas. 

Back at the lake house, Quinn, and Jack sat in the living room. Ellen, Jim, and Luke decided to go out for dinner to a fancy restaurant, and the whole nine yards, the other three weren’t bothered to even move from their seats. In hindsight, should they have just gotten Uber Eats or DoorDash, yes, but y/n wanted to get out of the house, just to a certain extent.

She didn’t want to interrupt her boyfriend’s time with his parents so she called Quinn, voice wavering, “Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n. Where are you? We thought you would be back by now.”

“About that. I’m sort of in the middle of nowhere and there was this car that was following but they stopped but I also don’t know if they just left and are coming back because they knew I was onto them-”

“Hey, calm down. Send me your location, Jack and I are on our way. Keep us on the phone and if you see them come back just start driving.”

“I’m almost out of gas.”

“We’ll hurry, just keep a lookout, okay?”

Five minutes passed and the boys were almost already halfway there, speeding the whole way as much as possible. She looked up and in the rearview mirror, there were headlights, “Guys? Is that you?”

Jack and Quinn looked at each other in confusion, “No?”

“Well, shit.” Y/n turned her car on and immediately pressed on the gas.

The car didn’t follow her, simply turned on the street behind where her car had been, but she didn’t know that, so she kept driving until her car was out of gas, “I’m out of gas.”

“We’re almost there, you should see us, right… about… now.” She looked up and saw them, easily recognizing the car. She got out of the car and practically ran to them. 

Quinn hugged her back when her arms wrapped around him, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you?”

She shook her head, “I’m fine, just still a little spooked.”

Jack stood off to the side and only now had y/n just noticed, “Hi Jack.” She looked at him tentatively. Contrary to her belief, Jack loved hugs, especially y/n’s hugs. She always thought differently, so she always hesitated to hug him. 

Yet, when he opened his arms, she ran into them just as she did with his older brother, “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Always.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ The One with the Fight | Quinn + Jack - Sophomore Year

“I just don’t understand, Luke.”

“Of course, you don’t you never do!”

They had been arguing on and off all day, everything the other person did set them off, it was hours of pointless and petty arguing. Realistically, they both had been in the wrong, but Luke screwed up the most. It was when they both found out that he would be going to Jersey. 

She had scheduled plans with friends earlier that week, but she would’ve dropped everything to hang out with Luke and help him pack. She offered to do that but Luke declined, saying he could handle it and he wanted her to go out and have fun with her friends. Truthfully, they had been spending almost every waking moment together since they knew.

“You were the one that told me to go hang out with them! I offered to help you and stay with you, but you declined!”

“I never said that.”

Y/n gave him a look that said all the different, “You’re such a fucking liar.”

“Oh, I’m the liar?”

“Yes!” 

“If you loved me, you would’ve stayed back, anyways. And you know what? I’m done with this conversation. Don’t wait up.” Luke took his duffle bag and suitcase and left y/n’s dorm. 

She stared at the door as it slammed practically in her face. The silence was deafening in the room, you could hear the barking of dogs and horns blaring from outside. If you listened hard enough you could hear the wind slapping against the window. 

For two minutes she stood there, staring at the door, body still and her hair blowing from the AC. She snapped out of her trance when she felt a lone tear roll down her face. Since then, it was one after another and she ran to grab her phone from her nightstand dialing Jack’s number.

Jack answered confused, “Hello?”

“I think Luke might be on his way to Jersey.”

“But he’s not supposed to leave yet.”

“We got into a fight and he sort of-” She choked on a sob, “stormed out of here with his duffle and suitcase.”

“What do you mean you guys got into a fight? You guys never fight.”

“Yeah well ‘never’ is a fucking stupid word. And this is totally not the point of this phone call, Jack. Can you just make sure he’s okay? I don’t want him getting hurt or anything.”

“Luke’s a big boy and if he decided to come here on a whim then he can handle it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Tears still were streaming down her face and she picked at her nails as she slid down the wall, landing on the floor. 

“What happened, y/n/n?”

“It was stupid, it was my fault.”

“You’re lying.”

“How would you know?”

“Your voice is more intense when you lie because you try to convince everyone you’re right by sounding more confident.”

“So why do you know that and not Luke?” She bawled to the older boy, placing her head in her hands, the phone dropping from her grasp.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Jack tried to gain her attention but failed, causing him to add Quinn to the call.

“Jack? Y/n? What’s up?”

“Y/n answer us.”

“What’s going on?”

“Y/n! Come on, please answer.”

“I’m sorry, I dropped my phone.”

“Can someone please explain to me what is going on? And where is Luke?”

“Luke fucked up is what’s going on,” Jack said, annoyed.

Y/n now sat against her bed and her phone propped up on the wall, switching to FaceTime, “We got into a fight.”

“You guys never fight.”

“Yes, I’m aware, now can we move on from that fact because it happened and it’s over with.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“He was mad because he’s supposed to be leaving soon and I went out with my friends after I had already offered to stay back and help him pack and everything like that but he said no. So, he’s right, it is my fault. If I loved him, I would’ve stayed.”

There was a simultaneous silence from the boys before a loud, “He said that?!”

“Yeah? Why? Is he right? I knew he was right.”

“No, no, no of course not. He’s not right. He’s a fucking dick for saying that.”

“But I should’ve stayed with him, he’s leaving soon.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

“Y/n/n, listen to me right now. Nothing you did tonight was your fault. Maybe something that we don’t know that happened you did, but what he said… you didn’t deserve that. He knows how much you love him and if he stooped that low to make you feel bad, then maybe he should take some time to cool off. I’m not saying that he should’ve left the way he did, but maybe some space is good.” Quinn explained to her.

She nodded but tears were still falling, “Do you think he’s going to break up with me? I mean, he’s going to go off and be in the NHL and I’m just going to be me. I’m nothing special.”

Jack and Quinn made eye contact through the phone and Jack went to say something but was interrupted, “You’re everything to me.” 

She snapped her head to the door and saw Luke standing there, his bag falling to the ground. She stood up quickly, wiping her face rid of any signs of her crying, “Luke.”

“How could you say that about yourself?”

Quinn and Jack hung up the phone, not wanting to interrupt their conversation despite them wanting to be there just in case he said something out of line. Luke wrapped his arms around the girl, “You are the most amazing person ever. I’m so sorry if I made you feel any differently.”

Y/n just shrugged, not bothered by that but more so the fight itself. Luke pulled back, saddened slightly by the lack of reciprocation in the affection, “And I am so sorry for what I said. I know you love me and I know I said you could hang out with your friends. I think just deep down I thought you would’ve stayed anyways and I was scared of leaving you.”

Y/n nodded and Luke’s hands went to her cheeks, wiping off the remnants of her mascara, “I understand, Luke. I just wish you would’ve handled it more like an adult than a teenager.”

“And I can’t even begin to explain how horrible I feel about that.”

“Can we just cuddle?”

“Anything you want.”

The two laid in better for a little while as they hadn’t wanted to do anything else. An hour later, y/n spoke, “I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. Emotions were high and I know that shouldn’t be the way we should handle things but we’re both stressed and you’re leaving soon I just want to forget about it.” Luke nodded, wanting to respect her wishes, “I love you, Lukey.”

“I love you.”

⬂ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

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#sunny lune writes #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #luke hughes #lh43 #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #jh86 #jack hughes x platonic!reader #quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes x platonic!reader

[imliterallyellie]

just saw your post about wanting prompts 👀 how about something sweet and fluffy (feel free to add smut if you wanna though, cause lord knows i’d never reject it) featuring ellie with a reader whose top love languages are acts of service and/or gift-giving? maybe reader knits her something super soft? or anything along those lines. thank you bby MWAH 💕

is this thing on? 🎤

you give ellie a gift on your first date

a/n short... and sweet... but cut me some slack. my first bit of writing since my exams, i need to get back into it!!!!

your first date with ellie had been amazing so far. the picnic you had assembled with all of her favorite things was great. it was the perfect occasion to enjoy each other, some food, drinks and the final bits of sunshine that fall was shining upon your town. ellie looked great. she always did, but it was clear that she put effort in her outfit today. a new-ish looking cream colored tank top with a brown flannel draped over it, paired with black cargo pants and her – as always – worn-out black converse. she looked good, very good even. her hair was still a bit damp. you thought it was cute, and you swore that she had cut it a bit shorter since the last time you saw her.

after a couple of hours soaking in her company and the rays of sunshine you decided it was best to start heading back. it was getting rather dark, so ellie was adamant on walking you home. you talked about everything and nothing, just enjoying the last couple moments you had with her before you had to call an end to your day together. you arrived back home and opened your door, but remained on the doorstep to say goodbye to ellie first.

“i had a real fun time, y’know. i guess you’re not that bad after all.” you rolled your eyes and shook your head, placing the picnic basket that you had been carrying on your way back between your legs. you sigh exaggeratedly before playing along. “you’re insatiable, ellie williams. is this how you thank a girl for taking you out on a date and preparing a picnic basket for you?” she looked down and tried to hide the little blush that crept up her neck at your words.

you flicked her ear, “i’m just kidding, loser. you’re not that bad either i guess- oh! before i forget… stay here for a second.”

you rushed upstairs to your room, rummaging around in your desk drawers to see where you had left the little present you made ellie. you had recently been getting into crocheting and took the hint when ellie sent you a video of someone making a crochet dinosaur. it aligned perfectly with your gift-giving love language, you were happiest when you could make someone else happy by giving them something.

you finally found the little dinosaur in your bottom drawer underneath some shirts, probably having thrown it there to make sure she wouldn’t find it if she ever opened that drawer. you walked back down the stairs and opened the door again, now facing your date with one hand held behind your back.

“what’ya got there?” “a surprise, close your eyes and put your hands in front of you.”

that’s what ellie did, she seemed a bit skeptical at first but did so nonetheless, and you placed the little dinosaur in her hands. “okay, it’s not much, but you’ve made it rather clear that you wanted this. open your eyes, els.”

“shut up, this is so fucking cute y/n.” the wide smile that crept on her face was worth all the hours you put into the little animal. while she was thoroughly inspecting the little green dinosaur, you couldn’t help but notice how soft her lips looked. they were slightly chapped, as they always were, but still seemed so kissable. she was mumbling away about how you had done a good job with proportion but you weren’t invested in what she was saying.

“can i kiss you?” “hmm?” “i asked if i could kiss you, ellie.”

whatever nerdy dinosaur fact she was sharing now long forgotten, her arms pulling you in by your waist while yours circled around her neck. you leaned in closer, leaving the last couple inches for ellie to close.

you were right. despite being a little chapped, her lips were still incredibly soft. you moved in unison, your lips speaking a language that seemed to have been discovered the second they touched. ellie pulled you impossibly closer to her, soaking in your body warmth, until you had to pull away to catch your breath. 

you rested your forehead against hers, giggling softly when you realized you had just, finally, got to kiss your best friend. “you have no clue how long i have wanted to do this for, els.” she chuckled and pressed another kiss against your lips, addicted to the fluttering feel in her stomach.

“i better get going, mum expects me back for dinner. thank you for today y/n. thank you for the picnic and thank you for the dinosaur.” she points her finger between you two, “and thank you for this.”

your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you couldn’t care less. you pressed a couple more kisses against ellie’s lips before finally letting go of her, with the promise of seeing her at school tomorrow.

ellie loved the little dinosaur. she got home and immediately went up to her bedroom, placing the little green animal on her nightstand, next to the polaroid of you both at one of her football games last year.

she pressed a kiss on it’s head every night before she went to bed, feeling like she was also kissing a little bit of you goodnight.

photos: ultraviolentromantic/pinterest & cinemaconrad/pinterest (we are respectful in this house and we credit creators)

#not proofread as usual #is this thing on? #torlex speaking 🌿 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut

[drchucktingle]

favorite author i have never read

hey there buckaroos thank you for all the DEEP DISCUSSIONS we are having a great time here on tumblr. thought today i could make a post that is slightly more difficult its not all sunshine days ahead and requires a little introspection. LOOK AT US we have all arrived here together through trust and love and i think we can keep this going. chuck made this post on other platforms years ago and i think it was said very well then and led to some good discussion, so i am going to repost here. okay lets go deep bud here we go:

i would like to spend moment today talking about common joke i hear online (and even too my face at conventions). this is jokerman way i hear ALL the dang time: 'chuck tingle is my favorite author i have never read' or less jokerman way but of ‘i have never read his books but i love chuck tingle'.

first of all, THANK YOU buds. this is not way of call out post to make you feel bad, i appreciate your way and understand you are trying to support. this is not attack on your message and from bottom of chucks heart THANK YOU.

BUT i have to say something about this. please consider what you are saying when you post this. would you send this as message to STEPHEN KING or NEIL GAIMAN or NK JEMISIN? i doubt this. it would seem VERY RUDE to message other authors. just imagine trotting up to a writer and saying ‘i would NEVER read your books haha’ but it is sent to chuck all the dang time.

obvious reason buds say it to chuck is that i am queer author with a unique way. yes i write in realm of wild fantasy and erotic pairings, but by saying ‘i have never read chuck BUT' you are really saying 'i am posting my support of this but PLEASE DONT THINK I AM REALLY INTERESTED IN THIS PERSONALLY.' there are similar distasteful jokes that i will not repeat involving saying 'no bud on bud pounds' after a sentence that works in similar way.

is sexual art really that bad? is queer art really that embarrassing? is unusual outsider art really that funny?

it is one thing if your preferred pound is not one of chucks tinglers, that is TOTALLY FINE BUD, but if you are an adult i would say 'is it REALLY that scary to read a book about a way of sex that is not yours? is it that difficult to think that something that seems silly to you could actually MOVE YOU in an important way? do you HAVE to disconnect yourself from lgtbqia art with a 'but i don't read this myself?'

keep in mind, there are gay tinglers, there are asexual tinglers, there are trans tinglers, there are select your own timeline tinglers, there are horror tinglers. TINGLERS FOR EVERY TASTE. the thing that buds are often REALLY saying with ‘favorite author i have never read’ is ‘this is WEIRD and dont be confused because im NOT WEIRD IM COOL DONT THINK I ACTUALLY LIKE THIS’. funny enough even the proudly fun and wild and unique buckaroos will STILL say this line, maybe without taking time to think of what it means or how rude it is?

WHY would you never read a chuck book? because my way is queer? because it is neurodivergent? even if that is not there reason or even if YOUR ARE ALSO PERSONALLY QUEER AND NEURODIVERGENT TOO, think about what the joke is IMPLYING.

is sincerely enjoying something thats kind of unusual that difficult? do we really have to slather it in irony and ‘so bad its good?’ before reposting?

in closing as man name of chuck i will say you can still make this joke if you want buckaroos i know you are just having a good time proving love in your own way. i am not upset with you bud and i appreciate your support in any way you give it. there are some buckaroos who just CANT AFFORD tinglers and that is an important way i understand as well. obviously this conversation does not apply to those buds. but for the rest of us trotting along, MAYBE think about what you are really saying with this jokerman way first, and MAYBE try cracking open a tingler because you might be surprised. its not that scary bud. thank you for listening

being sincere is VERY COOL and VERY PUNK ROCK. i encourage all buckaroos out there to give it a try.

LOVE IS REAL

#chuck tingle #tingleverse #art theory #queer #lgbtqia #outsider art #neurodivergent #autism #irony #sincerity #love is real #favorite author i have never read

[norrisleclercf1]

hi, are you taking requests for smut too? i'd love one for charles, where usually he's not really into rough sex but one day he just goes for it and surprises y/n

A/N: Charles doesn't seem like one to have rough sex, but this was fun to write

Warnings: Rough sex, public sex, not really you're on his yacht, whatever just enjoy, p in v, wrap before you tap, slight bondage, dirty talk, spanking, slight ass play, daddy kink, sue me okay I popped off with this one

You hated tan lines, which is funny considering your boyfriend posted the ultimate tan line picture a year ago around this time. Charles was careful in picking a place that would allow you privacy.

He didn't want cameras capturing you naked on his yacht. Besides, you're his fiancée you should be allowed to tan nude on his boat if you want too. Smiling at the seclusion, you take off your top and soon your bottoms enjoying the way the sun warmed your skin.

"Sunshine, you need sunscreen." You laugh at his comment as his summer break photos are infamous for him always having the worse sunburns ever. "Maybe you should wear the sunscreen." Taking the bottle for him.

"I don't care if I burn, just don't want you too. Now give it." Reaching for it, you pull back. He shakes his head and goes to grab it again, only for you to do the same. "Give it here." You squeal as you and Charles wrestle for the bottle, everything ending when Charles's hand wraps around your throat and pins you down.

"When I say give it, you give it." His voice stern, the look in his eyes and hand on your throat as your squirming. You can see the lightbulb go off, throwing the sunscreen away he smirk. "Awww, did my little sunshine get excited by this? That's cute." Hand careful to not hurt you or cut off your oxygen.

"Charl." You buck your hips, but his hand pushes it down. "Nahuh, stay here. Don't touch yourself." He whispers removing his hand and dipping into the back of the yacht.

Holy fuck. Charles as never once acted this way towards you. He never had rough sex with you, you didn't mind it. But, shit....were you turned on like crazy. Unable to help yourself you dip your fingers in, whimpering when you feel a pool of wetness. "Mmmm." You screw your eyes shut, rubbing your clit gently.

"Are you really that much of a slut, you can't wait?" Eyes flying open, your fiancé stands there holding a piece of rope. "I'm so wet, Charles. Look." Smirking you spread your legs wide, showing off your pussy. His nose flares, trying to stay in control.

If this was a normal sex night, he'd drop to his knees and eat his fill drawing out gorgeous moans. But, this wasn't a normal sex night, and he was going to show you that. "Tsk, can't even listen to simple instructions can you?" Stepping forward his hand in on your neck.

Gasping he shoves you back on the plush deck. The front of the deck was for people just lay, it was simple and your favorite spot on the yacht. "Charl, please it aches. Help me." You beg trying to get some type of friction. "Stop." You freeze, the command settling deep in your bones.

He let's go of your neck, flipping you onto your stomach you yelp. "This is what happens when you don't behave." He bites your ear, letting go as he sets your hands on the railing. "Gorgeous ring, who gave it to you?" You giggle at the question, but moan when a stern slap to your ass is given.

The rope in his hand was being tied around your wrists and railing, not to tight, but enough you couldn't break free. "My fiancé." You moan, trying to lean back to rub into him. His body over yours. "Hmmm, very lucky guy." Humor in the words, you smile glad to know he was still his soft self. "Very, very lucky indeed. But, let's not talk about him." Charles smiles, seeing the smile in your eyes.

"You're right. I'd rather make you scream." You try to hit back with a quip, but you gasp out a moan feeling another slap to your ass. Spreading your legs, Charles hums rubbing the soft flesh before trailing his hand to your pussy. "How gorgeous you look, Sunshine. Fuck, that fiancé of yours better never fuck up." You nod, trying to form the words.

You couldn't as Charles was always good with his fingers, the way he'd move them should be illegal. "Do I need to finger you or eat you out, Sunshine? I want to make sure you're ready." The soft words, has you blushing. How in the world could Charles be so sweet and then so nasty at the same time.

"No, I got a little needy earlier when you were napping." His jaw twitches but says nothing as he nods. Standing up over you he pulls off his swim trunks. You hate that you couldn't turn around and see him. Charles naked it stunning, he was just perfect. "Condom, or no?" Charles was making sure he didn't overstep.

He's never been rough with you before and he refuses to go too far that it's too much. "No condom, fuck Charl hurry. I'm so wet and needy. God I want to feel you fill me up, please." You beg pulling your knees up and arching your ass up. "Fuck." He curses wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping himself a couple of times.

Getting back on his knees, he pulls you down. He thrusts up watching the way his cock moves between your ass cheeks. "Charles, next time. Just fuck my pussy Daddy!" You moan, unable to help the words fall from your lips. "Sweet jesus, Sunshine." Charles slides into you, his cock even harder from hearing you call him that.

You let out a loud moan, Charles holding your hips as he takes deep breaths trying to calm down. He doesn't wait, moving back and forth fast. "Yes, yes, uhhh." You gasp, shaking your head as Charles fucks into you fast. The sound of skin slapping, and your moans drive him crazy.

"Such a dirty slut got needy and used your own fingers to get off. Then you don't even wait a minute before you're touching yourself again. Were you that hungry for Daddy's cock you needed to misbehave huh?" You yelp Charles's fingers digging into your hair as he arches you up.

"Speak." He changes his pace but keeps the same deep thrusts as he circles his hips and goes forward sending your eyes to roll into the back of your head. "Yes, I'm a dirty slut." You gasp, Charles releasing you, falling forward you moan.

"That's right, you are a dirty slut. But, my dirty slut." He whispers reaching down as he rubs your clit sending you over the edge. "Oh, GOD CHARLES!" As he fucks hard into you, but the movement of his fingers on your clit slow driving you crazy. Moving fast he tugs on the rope watching fall.

Pulling out of you, you whine hating when he leaves you empty. Moving he towers over you, as he pumps is cock you sit up sucking him down. The feeling of your mouth on him sends him off the edge as he comes deep in your throat.

Pulling off of him, careful to not overstimulate him. The two of you gasp for air, before falling into a fit of giggles. "Are you okay?" He asks, pulling you into him. "Yes, you?" Placing soft kisses on his chest. "I'm perfect. By the way, maybe we should do that again." You smile loving the idea.

"Definitely."

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