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cassandrajoybellbittner · 3 months

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A First Chance At Love - Chapter 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Avery Chandler

My teeth were gritted painfully together as I stood outside for some peace and quiet but like always that was never going to happen.

Slowly I turned my head to glare daggers at the boy who as consistently bugged me to no end.

Growling I hopped he got the picture I didn't want him here.

"Oh, I love it when you growl. It is so sexy," Caleb husked stepping up to me and placing a hand on my chest.

I snatched his wrist in my hands and narrowed my handing warning.

"Will you just leave me be," I hissed.

But all he did was smile as he licked his lips suggestively.

"Oh come on Ave. I love it when you get aggressive," he smirked.

There were snickers and a few murmurs around us as I darted my eyes around so see a few older and younger wolves looking at us in disgust.

I really didn't care about what they thought.

I was more disappointed that they would look at this blatant display Caleb was showing in dislike when their Alpha's were two gay males.

I shook my head, shutting my eyes.

"Just give me a kiss," he whined and I snapped my eyes open to glare at him again.

He was pouting as he looked up at me.

"Please one kiss but I can't promise you that I'll leave you alone after that," he snickered.

I pushed him away and he staggered back but still caught his balance.

"I've told you time and time again Caleb that I'm not gay nor do I want to be involved with you," I growled at him as I stepped around him and walked off the back porch.

His footsteps were right behind me causing me to groaning in annoyance.

"Come on Avery. I know that you have to have some heart in that robot chest of yours," he said.

I stopped to turn to him and frowned.

"Excuse me?"

He skidded to a stop since he was jogging to keep up with me.

"Well it's true. It's like you can do nothing but kiss-up to Aiden's ass. You're always there. You only ever talk to him or give him the time of day," he shrugged and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm his protector Caleb. It's my soul purpose to be there for him at all times," I told him.

"I thought that was Liam's job. You can't let your life revolve around Aiden. What about... you know alone time with a special person," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Sighing, I really didn't want to go through this right now.

Or ever in fact.

"Look. It is none of your business what I do with others and secondly, you have a mate somewhere out there Caleb and I'm not going to let you ruin something so special between your mate and yourself. It's something that should never be tainted with, so keep yourself pure Caleb and you'll thank me in the long run," I said, turning back around to leave.

"Yeah right," he said, following me again.

'Oh my goddess this kid.'

"I don't want a mate," he said as he came up to walk beside me.

I just frowned at him.

"You won't be saying that when you see them."

He shook his head stubbornly.

"No. I don't want to be tied down to some girl. I would feel like I've been shackled to someone that I never wanted to be with in the first place," he argued.

"No Caleb. Oonce you meet them all the doubt and scared feelings you have will go away," I assured him.

He didn't know how lucky he was to know that his mate was somewhere out there waiting for him.

We made it to the side door of the kitchen to find it empty.

I trudged to the fridge and looked around.

I heard the metal chain that was attached to Caleb's wallet clank as he hopped on the counter but I just ignored him.

Spaghetti, that sounds promising.

I grabbed the container and stuck it in the microwave.

The only sound was the hum of the microwave as it rotated.

"Don't you find me attractive at all?" finally Caleb had to interrupt my sweet quiet and I closed my eyes exhausted.

"I have no feeling in that department."

"Well? Do you thing Sandra is hot?" he said, referring to one of the pack women who has a modeling contract.

She was remarkably beautiful and almost every unmated wolf wants her but I felt nothing when I looked at her.

I turned to him and looked him in the eyes.

"No, Caleb. How many time to I have to tell you that I am not attracted to anyone in this pack-house or out of it."

DING

I walked over to the microwave and pulled out my hot food grabbed a fork and sat at the table.

I stabbed at the noodles twisting them with my fork and bringing them up to my mouth to blow.

I didn't even jump when arms slid slowly over my shoulders, down my chest to wrap around my neck.

His chin rest on my shoulder and his mouth touched my ear.

"Aren't you going to offer me any?" he whispered, his breath caressing my ear but all I felt from it was annoyance.

"Caleb," I warned him.

Chuckling, he licked at the shell of my ear and bit it, making me jump.

"I'm not giving up Avery," was all he said before he walked out.

I just stared down at my food as I listen to his footsteps retreat.

Breathing a sigh of relief I finally bit down on my noodles.

That kid hasn't left me alone since he's got here.

Every time he would find me by myself he would try his hardest to get into my pants even though I always tell him there is no chance of that to ever happen in life.

I have one reason for being in this life and that was Aiden.

Caleb would only complicate my job.

Finishing off my spaghetti I washed to dish and walked up to my room.

There were kids running up and down the stairs as I stepped out of their way.

Sometimes I missed the alone time I use to have, when I would travel by myself.

Now I was surrounded by annoying people and a kid who won't get the picture that I wanted nothing to do with him.

I reached my door and laid back on my bed staring up at my ceiling.

The room was dark and bland like always.

I closed my eyes and focused on Aiden's life force.

He was happy as I watched the swirling pink mist behind my eyes.

His content energy seeped into as I opened myself to him.

I know it's not right but this was how I could go through my day.

I feed off his happiness to make the emptiness in my body fill to a certain extent.

Sighing I felt the pull of a small smile come on my face.

*knock, knock*

I frowned at the door as no one ever came to my room.

"Yeah?" I said.

Slowly he door cracked open and I saw Dom pock his head in.

"Hey man. It's time for patrols," he said.

I nodded as I slide from my bed.

Dominic... I've noticed a miraculous difference in his behavior.

When I met him he was always moping around the house or he was training his ass off.

When he had always showed signs of a rejected wolf.

The way his skin never tanned even though he was out in the sun for hours at a time during training and he never laughed.

I'm not a talkative person myself but he never interacted with anyone and if he did it would be just a one worded answer.

While at the mall with Aiden and Sadie... I met Jeanine, hearing that she had the gal, to reject her mate, even if she was human, it pissed me off and I had to admit... I did get carried away when I saw her grab Aiden and that nasty growl slipped out.

But the day Aiden came up with a way for them to get back together or at least talk I was glad to help.

And I will admit that I was all too excited to be the one to tie her up and lock her in the room.

A faint of a smile graced my lips... It worked though, Dominic was happy as ever with Jay.

He had his natural glow back and they had a pup on the way.

I guess their time in the old Alpha's prison resulted in that.

The sky was dark as we stepped out for patrol.

A few war wolves were gathered waiting for us to lead the way.

Liam had made it official that I was to be one of them and Aiden completely agreed.

Since Aiden thought I should I accepted.

"Team A... You're taking the right. Team B... You have the left. As for the rest of you, you are with Avery and I. Alright lets go."

Discarding of our clothes we all shifted and rushed in the woods.

The night cleared as my eyes sharpened and my senses heightened.

We had all spread out as I was alone for the moment.

I walked slowly, my eyes scanning over the trees never missing a thing.

I saw small animals running out of my way as I trotted... squirrels racing up to their cozy little holes in the trees with their families... birds sleeping in their nest... the soft whistling of the wind... the breeze ruffling my sandy brown coat.

My muzzle lifted in the breeze trying to pick up any unknown scents but it clear besides the soft relaxing smell of wild flowers and the earthy scent of the grass.

I trotted up to the border but still all was clear so I turned to go back halfway there I stopped.

My ears began to twitched in the direction of a twig snapping, moments latter the scent hit my nose and I growled in annoyance.

'Dammit,' I whined.

A brown wolf came out from behind the trees, his tail high as he strolled up to me confidently.

Growling, I lowered myself a bit in a defensive stance.

He gave me a wolfish grin, as he came up to me and rubbed his smaller body under my chin arching his back like a cat.

'Avery,' he purred repeating the process as he turned back around.

'What are you doing out here Caleb?' I snapped in impatience.

'Can he just leave me alone.'

'I saw you patrolling and I wanted to help,' he said now brushing his body down my side.

'Well... I don't need any... So leave.'

He snickered and pressed his muzzle against mine.

'I rather not,' he said, licking at my face.

I was a little worried why I wasn't pushing him off.

I usually always grab him before he touched me in warning but here I was letting him rub against me.... letting him rub his sent all over me.

I lifted my lip up and bared my canines at him as I pulled myself out of whatever that was.

Backing up I pinned my ears back.

'Leave me the hell alone Caleb,' I yelled in the mind link, he didn't of course. Why does he test me so?

I may be a really relaxed person, nothing really bugged me but there was about him that just irked me.

'Come now Avery play with me,' he teased and jumped at me playfully but I was having none of it.

He pawed at my face gently and I growled but stayed in my spot glaring at him.

'Caleb,' I said in warning.

He kept at it jumping around like a puppy.

I took a deep breath but it did nothing as he swiped at my face again but this time his claw nipped me in the muzzle.

The sting made me growl and pounce on him, pinning him on the forest floor.

I stood over him snarling in his face dangerously his eyes wide with sock.

'Stop,' I growled my teeth barred at him using too much power in my command.

He pinned his ears back and whined in fright... his bluish brown eyes were staring up at me in disbelief.

I couldn't move, as the aura of something I pushed back a long time ago, began to surge through my veins, for the second time in years.

'I'm sorry,' he apologized softly as his gaze searched my face curiously.

I watched him raise his head from the ground and I froze as his tongue licked slowly at the wound that was bleeding, none too badly, on the side of my nose.

I felt a light sir in my wolf as Caleb's warm tongue healed the small wound affectionately.

Our eyes met as he pulled away and I realized I couldn't look away.

Noticing I wasn't going to do anything he took advantage of the moment and licked at my cheek causing me to close my eyes.

What was this? My wolf began stirring again like he was curious as to where this was going but... no, NO.

I won't have that... I can't... I jumped away from him like he had burnt me and back up slowly shaking my head.

'Avery?' he got to his feet and I shook my head, still.

'Go,' I told him and his head tilted in confusion.

'What's wrong?' he asked me stepping closer to me.

'GO,' I screamed and he flinched at my tone, as he froze in his advances towards me.

'Damn it why doesn't he ever listen?' I whined.

Huffing I turned from him and raced off, leaving Caleb and whatever that was back there.

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writteninsunshine · 2 years

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I’m Gonna Make Tonight A Show - Fizzarolli/Asmodeus, Implied(?) Lucifer/Asmodeus - NSFW

Title: I'm Gonna Make Tonight A Show

Author: Keith

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Setting: Ozzie’s House

Pairing: Fizzarolli/Asmodeus | Ozzie

Characters: Fizzarolli, Asmodeus | Ozzie, Lucifer

Genre: Erotic/Romance

Rating: E

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1956

Type Of Work: One-Shot, Day - Of 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie

Status: Complete

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Dry Humping, Exhibitionism, Wet Kisses, Drool, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Clothed Sex, Lilith Mention, Lucifer/Lilith Mention, Implied Lucifer/Asmodeus, I Think It’s Implied But It’s Also Mentioned So Oops

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

Summary: It was just kissing.

AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a Helluva Boss Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Gimme-A-Thrust! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Tumblr/Twitter!

So I wanted to write this from pretty much the beginning of my fics for this and I just. I need you to know that I am so excited. This is also my debut for how I write Lucifer, and I hope everyone is ready for it. I have been writing him in private with my husband for a bit, now, and I finally thought it would be fun to write him!

30 Days Of Fizzarozzie Fic Masterlist

I’m Gonna Make Tonight A Show

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Lucifer, being who he was, was not a man easily disturbed.

His cheery smile was almost always in place, but it was his eyes that truly spoke for how he was feeling most of the time. Right now, they were a little wider than necessary, glued to the way Ozzie’s hand slid up Fizzarolli’s back and guided him into an exaggerated arc. Once his ass was stuck out (far beyond the legal limit, in Lucifer’s opinion), the elder demon groped it openly, purring loudly as one of those mechanic hands wound down his chest and stomach to stroke him in turn. For a moment, Lucifer soaked up the sight of it with hungry eyes, and he had to take a deep breath and hold it to stop himself from doing… Something. Even he didn’t know what he thought he was doing.

Their tongues tangled together in an obvious show of lust, and both of them were dripping saliva down their chins. When Ozzie’s main head moved down to nip at Olli’s neck, the goat and bull took turns continuing the blatant spectacle they were making for Lucifer. A couple of thoughts glanced off of his lust-addled brain, telling him that this was purposeful, that there was a reason here, that he should be saying, doing, denying something. It was hard to pull his eyes away, regardless.

That didn’t mean that he was willing to believe for a second that they were just doing this. After all, he had come to Asmodeus’ house to discuss a few politically related things, some of his duties being shirked. The second they were seated in the enormous demon’s office, Fizzarolli had climbed Ozzie like a goddamn tree. Seated in a tall (but thin) chair near the desk, Lucifer just stared for what was probably way too long. Really, he didn’t entirely know what to do, because this really was just Asmodeus being himself, leaning back in his chair and indulging in his sin like he owned the place. With a dim realization that he sort of did, Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to right his thoughts.

As expected, it didn’t even work a little.

Lucifer crossed one knee over the other, squeezing his thighs together tightly and letting out a soft sigh at the sensation. Ozzie was damn good at what he did, and even clunky movements looked practiced and perfected. Each time his hands moved, sliding over Fizzarolli’s inner thighs, up his back, down his sides, those eyes followed them. His gaze bordered on being a physical press as he took note of the way those robotic hands glided over Ozzie’s silky, rigid cock like they belonged there.

The next time he came over, he was going to enforce a rule that Ozzie would wear some fucking pants. He said that every single time, and every single time he conveniently ‘forgot’ about it, but maybe next time he’d manage to remember why remembering was a good idea.

With the lustful thoughts swirling around in Lucifer’s mind, every labored breath breaking his parted lips, he was sure that Ozzie was feasting on him. His hips rocked up and Lucifer’s chest tensed up tight in an attempt at stifling a moan he wasn’t willing to give. If nothing else, his pride was going to continue his five-year stint of denying Asmodeus and his whims, because he made it a point to prove to the other sins that he was superior, he could resist.

Right now, he just wanted to be in Fizzarolli’s position. The cacophony of moans that left him as Ozzie’s thumb rubbed between his cheeks, grinding the soft fabric of his pants against his hole had Lucifer’s grip on the edge of his seat tightening more. He didn’t doubt that Ozzie knew what he was doing to him, that this particular show was going to send him home to his wife in an undignified, desperate, unkempt mess. He’d fall victim to her wicked hands the second they touched him, and he’d moan the other’s sin’s name like he’d wanted to this whole time.

Lilith wouldn’t even be surprised, nor disappointed in him. Every demon in Hell had had a few thoughts about Asmodeus, and they hadn’t been trapped in a room with him doing what he did best to someone else for six hours. It was to be expected, really.

Fizzarolli was roughly his size, swallowing down Ozzie’s tongues like a pro, arching, purring, and falling victim to any flight of fancy his lover had at that second. He panted hotly against the other’s mouths, eyes rolling back when Ozzie’s free hand cupped his cock through his pants, and Lucifer was starting to feel a little (or a lot) warmer than he liked to admit to.

“Mnn, cl-close, Ozz–” Fizzarolli’s voice was breathy, high pitched, and tailed off in a keening whine, and Ozzie leaned into him a little more, nipping at his lip.

“Come for me, Olli Baby,” His encouragement rumbled through his body as he squeezed Fizzarolli’s hips down against his vibrating chest. It was all Lucifer could take, apparently, because he suddenly slammed his cane against the desk.

"Ozzie.” His voice was a sharp, stern command, and Ozzie growled irritably as he pulled one head back to glare at him. Fizzarolli’s hands hadn’t stopped moving, wrapped fully around Ozzie’s dick, and Lucifer’s jaw tensed, “We're supposed to be discussing your kingly duties today, I didn't come for a show… Though I think I see why you’re slacking your bureaucratic responsibilities." The venom dripping from every word in the last sentence wasn’t lost on Ozzie, who had to fight the smirk off his lips.

“Satan’s tits, Lu, don’t be homophobic.” Ozzie groused, not bothering with removing his hands from his lover’s ass, “Fuck off with that shit.”

“Yeah, it’s just kissing!” Fizzarolli added unhelpfully, and it was Lucifer’s turn to growl.

“Just kissing my ass,” He snapped bitterly, huffing as he rolled his eyes, “If you’re about to come and he’s fingering you through your pants, it’s hardly just kissing.”

For a second, Ozzie went quiet, feeling the wispy traces of lust in the room, and a slow grin finally blossomed on all three faces.

“Aww, Lu Lu, did you want in? Or you want me to call Lil and see if she wants to come help you out?” He teased, his expression salacious and smarmy in a way that only frustrated the King of Hell more. Lucifer didn’t want to give in to him, except that he absolutely did, so he looked away as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ozzie. We have business to discuss. After, I will leave you to your…” There was clear disgust (and envy, Ozzie thought) in his tone and on his face as he spoke, “Little feral clown man. Maybe you should put him outside and turn the hose on.”

“Fizzarolli’s fine.” Ozzie used his full name, and it caused the imp to look up at him, his tail tip flicking in thought. If Ozzie was using his full name, that usually meant that he was frustrated with him (or whoever he was talking with). Only Ozzie could call him Olli Baby, and he didn’t respond to Olli from anyone else most of the time. Brick had permission to call him that only in an emergency, and those were few and far between, “Whatever we need to talk about, he can be here for. His lips are sealed, and I focus better when he’s here.”

“I know you focus better when you’re being fed,” I’m sure you have plenty of focus right now, “But I think you’ve had enough. What are you, the twins?”

“Hey, now. The twins wouldn’t have stopped when you said something, and you know it. I’m being generous.”

“Yeah. And I’m suffering for it.” Fizzarolli whined, licking at Ozzie’s neck.

“...How about this,” Ozzie sighed, “Let Olli come, because I know he’s close. Then, I’ll try and focus on this boring shit. It’s not like you like the politics, either.”

“That is beside the point.” But Lucifer knew this was a losing battle, and he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tight and pinching the space between his eyes, “Fine. Finish him off and then he’s out of here while we discuss this.”

“Olli Baby?” Ozzie regarded his lover as he rolled his hips against his chest, “That sound okay? You could always go get swarmed by the bitch bots.”

“...I guess.” The put-upon sight that came with those words had Ozzie clucking at the imp softly, “I just wanna feel you, though.” Lucifer recognized that pouty tone, the dejected little sniffle, the downward eyes. He, too, used that kind of manipulation where it suited him, but the obvious display only made him raise one side of his lips in obvious abhorrence.

“It’s either this, or we put him out now. I won’t hesitate to remind you who the King of Kings is, Asmodeus.”

“Ooooooh, using my full naaaaaame,” Ozzie mocked, sing-song and smug, rolling his own eyes, “Okay, okay, I suck him off and he’s gone.”

“You wh–”

Fizzarolli was untangled from Ozzie’s cock, and curled around his head in a flash and Lucifer gave a groan of frustration. The imp was more than happy to thrust against and then into his lover’s mouth, his prehensile dick wrapping with Ozzie’s tongue as he moved. His eyes rolled back, every forward push of his hips starting to grow jerky and uncoordinated as he neared his orgasm. The Alpha made a more exaggerated show of his pleasure, now, and it irked Lucifer even more. He had to resist, and he knew that Ozzie wasn’t going to make this easy. Apparently,y the demented little jester was going to help him in this endeavor.

When he finally spilled, it was with a loud howl and a stuttering of his hips, grinding them against Ozzie’s lips. He accepted the other’s knot in stride, and once Olli was ready, he pulled him away from his face.

“I’ll go put him to bed and when I get back I’ll hear you out, okay?”

“...Okay, fine. Just hurry up.” Lucifer bit out, going for angry and intimidating but landing more in huffy and indignant. Ozzie left the room with Fizzarolli, and he spread his legs, palming himself a few times despite his own protests. It was an admonishment as much as it was a promise for later, and he was positive that Ozzie knew about it the second it happened.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two, Baby. Rest up and I’ll wreck you when I get back.” Ozzie promised, kissing between Olli’s eyes as he laid him down in bed. Their bedroom was a scant few feet from the office door, so it hadn’t taken long to get there with Ozzie’s large strides.

“Okay, Babe… Can you hand me the remote?” Ozzie had it in his hand in less than a second, even if he knew Olli could have gotten it himself without much fuss, “Thanks, Sexy. See you soon~”

“Yeah, Baby, I’ll be thinking about that tight little ass of yours.” Ozzie purred, and Fizzarolli wiggled for him, spreading his legs in a tease that had Ozzie considering staying instead.

Despite this, he almost managed to keep himself focused the entire time he was with Lucifer in his home office. It was a damn miracle that they managed to get anything done at all, between his own lack of release and Lucifer’s growing annoyance. Before the day was over, Lucifer left Ozzie with a taste of him on his tongue and his head bowed, slinking home to his wife to regale her with his sob story.

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AN: I really couldn’t help myself when I saw this prompt, I’ve had this in my head for 20 days. I almost started it the other day but I needed to focus on what I needed to do for that day. I can usually only finish one of these every day unless they’re really short. This one was such a damn blast, I loved writing it soooooo much.

Prompt: 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie Day 23 - Kiss

#Helluva Boss Fanfic #Helluva Boss Fanfiction #Fizzarozzie #Fizzmodeus #Helluva Boss Fizzarozzie #Helluva Boss Fizzmodeus #Lucifer x Asmodeus #November Sierra Foxtrot Whiskey

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rek1s-headband · 3 years

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Hi! May I please request random bf headcanons for cherry? Ty!

➯A/N: Hi!! Thanks for the request! Hope you enjoy, and have a lovely day!

➯ Random boyfriend headcannons

➯ Characters: Kaoru Sakurayashiki x gn! reader

➯ Warnings: none:)

If yall met when you were still in high school, he would’ve tried to convince you at least once to let him pierce you or give you a tattoo.

That’s how you would’ve gotten together initially too. His face inches from yours, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he pulls the needle through your lip. Adjusting a piece of jewellery on your lip to match his, he’d gently wipe a stray drop of blood away from your lips with his thumb

You found you couldn’t pull away as you stared into his eyes, slowly closing them as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss. It was quick, but as soon as you pulled away he was pulling you back in for another, and another. The light throbbing in your lip was the least of your worries

He would’ve been so protective of you when he’d go with Adam and Joe to those underground skate meet-ups. Of course, he’s only gotten worse, now he refuses to leave your side at S for fear of some creep trying to hit on you

You have the most unnecessary beef with Carla. You know its a joke of course, but since Carla is, well, a robot, she’s not too knowledgeable about teasing. You’d ask her a load of random, strange questions she couldn’t possibly answer, or you’ll tell her how Kaoru is all yours and she’ll start overheating. Now any time you try to ask her a question she literally just. refuses to answer you

“Master, please tell y/n I dont want to speak to them.” “Oh I’ll show you master-”

Kaoru is indifferent to PDA. He doesn’t hate it, he just doesn’t think others deserve to see you like that. Hell give you the occasional forehead kiss, but even so his arm is constantly glued to you in some way

Behind closed doors though, he cant seem to get enough of you. He loves having you in his lap, his head on your shoulder while you watch TV. If you play with his hair he’s like putty in your hands, leaning into your touch with closed eyes and almost a purr. Loves when you drag your fingertips along his arms and his back, its a comfort to him

You and him will constantly gang up on Joe and absolutely violate the man. It’s already bad with just Kaoru, now imagine the poor guy having to deal with both of you

You’ll hide in the crowd during his exhibitions, occasionally shouting out praise trying to throw him off.

Or worse, you’ll just silently stand there, watching him look around suspiciously, knowing you’re hiding somewhere even if you hadn’t explicitly specified you’d be there. When he finally locks eyes with you, he has to try extremely hard not to laugh as he watches you stare him down, a small grin creeping over your face

You’ll go on dates to Joe’s restaurant just to annoy the shit out of him. You’ll act extra lovey-dovey just to make him uncomfortable, and the pair of you will fake a proposal at least once a month to get free cake(its always one of those shitty plastic rings you get from the dollar store too)

You dyed your hair pink to match with him once, and he absolutely loved it. The two of you would style your hair and clothes to match, and you were quite the sight to see at S

Slow dancing in the kitchen while you make dinner is a regular thing for the two of you. You’ll be idly stirring the pot when one of your songs come on, and suddenly Kaoru is pulling you away from the stove, twirling you around the kitchen and humming in your ear. More often than not you’ll get carried away and burn the dinner.

Who cares, takeout tastes good too

He’s awful at tying his hair up properly, and gets you to tie it for him before an exhibition or a race

You’ve curled his hair before while he slept, and he was insanely fascinated by it. He spent at least an hour shaking his head in front of the mirror, raking is hands through the wavy locks. He kept it curled when you tied it up before S, and it was a big hit during his race. Suddenly he was asking you to curl his hair more often

During the colder months, you and Kaoru will sleep impossibly close, a mess of tangled limbs while Carla quietly plays lullabies in the background. In the warmer months though, you couldn’t be further apart. Lying above the covers in minimal clothing, you’ll both hang off either side of the bed, hissing at each other to not come closer to them while you sweat like pigs. Hey, sometimes romance is keeping your distance

It’s a regular thing for the two of you to get wine drunk and whip out some old board games, yelling at each other when you get put in jail in Monopoly, flipping the Scrabble board when Kaoru insists that “milf” is not a word you’re allowed to use

“ITS AN ACRONYM” “YOURE AN ACRONYM” “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN”

Reki and Langa love you. Miya took a bit of warming up to you, but as soon as he saw you bullying Joe with Cherry he adored you

If you can skate, you would constantly race against Kaoru just to see if you could beat him. However, with his fancy ass board that already hated you and his insane skills, losses were much more common than wins

He can never get any work done with you around him. You’ll lie your head in his lap while he tries to write, drawing smiley faces in the corners of his paper. He literally has to carry you out of the room just so he can get a bit of peace

Loves conspiracy theories. He’ll shake you awake at four in the morning, rambling about the new video he just watched about McDonald’s actually being run by a cult of clowns

*episode 9 spoilers* after Ad*m gave him a slap of his skateboard, you’d help him wash his hair in the shower, wrapping plastic bags around his casts and making jokes

*washing his back* “don’t make it gay Kaoru” “I DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING”

#kaoru sakurayashiki headcanons #kaoru sakurayashiki #kaoru sakurayashiki x reader #cherry blossom #cherry blossom headcanons #cherry blossom x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk∞#sk8 the infinity #sk8 x reader #sk8 cherry blossom #sk8 kaoru

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queer-and-dear-books · 2 years

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Title: Jay’s Gay Agenda

Author: Jason June

Genre: YA Fiction | Romance | Friendship | LGBTQ+

Content Warnings: Infidelity

Overall Rating: 8.5/10

Personal Opinion: Painfully relatable for the lonely queer kid. But watching Jay gain new gay friends and a possible boyfriend is a great way to live vicariously. Fall in love with the diverse cast of characters created by the incredibly talented Jason June as you follow Jay’s journey through balancing his new fast-paced queer life in Seattle and his old life with his best friend back home.

Do I Own This Book? Yes. This was another Christmas gift to myself.

Couple Classification: Jay Collier X Albert Huang = Nerd X Nerd

Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:

Likes:

- I really hit the Gaysian heartthrob jackpot this week. This time, we have Albert Huang. A robotics and Digimals (parody of Pokemon Go) nerd who is classified as a VSB (Very Sexy Boy). He’s also described to have very firm and large pecs. He’s a gentleman, he’s kind, he’s hot, he’s smart, he’s so fucking patient? Like he is just a king and I adore him! I want good things for him specifically so Jay better not hurt him ever again! When I root for a fake man like this, that’s how you know you’ve made an amazing character.

- Jay’s parents are so cute and in love, I love that. I do really hope Jay’s dad gets some new Seattle buds to hang out with. Maybe a lesbian couple that loves Monday night football. I feel like too many parents in fiction just don’t like each other or don’t show it very well. The fact that Jay’s parents adore one another is beautiful. And how they look out for their son too. Even if it’s sometimes very embarrassing.

- Jay’s story is very relatable. Painfully so. I doubt I was the only out gay guy at Tech (we were a school of over 5k kids, there’s no way) but I was alone anyway. I didn’t try to seek out other queer folks because I was scared and just so used to the loneliness so I didn’t bother. I remember going to Vermont with the intent of living my best gay life. It didn’t work out that way. But because of that, I can relate to Jay and I absolutely get his desire to complete his agenda.

- Damon and Cami are such good friends to Max? Like they did the most for him and I love that. So supportive and kind and this is a straight footballer of all people. Damon is just so secure in his identity and I just respect the hell out of it. Him and the whole football team all cheering when Max and Reese kissed and made up? Iconic. The way they pushed all the desks into a heart? King shit. I love them.

- Speaking of the football team, the one himbo on the team? Julian? Hilarious. He’s really out here doing his best in fashion design and not knowing shit. But he’s like the biggest fan of Mr. Bogosian’s terrible puns and is so supportive of everyone? I love him. He’s not even in the main cast and I love him.

- The comedy is on point! The moment when Damon accidentally slapped Jay’s ass will live rent-free in my mind forever. And Jay going “guess I’m the gay guy that’s into spanking” is hilarious. It sent me. Like, he didn’t have to say that so casually but he did!

- The DigiGang? An amazing friend group. Shruti and Reese and that one girl (fuck, I forgot her name but she’s the goth girl obsessed with teeth) are just so protective of Albert. They were ready to throw down with Jay in order to defend him. It is just so sweet. And they’re also all smart? Shruti is a robotics queen. Sending Jay and Max into economics on a speeding roller chair. Icon.

- Diversity wins in general. We have a bunch of gay kids with Jay, Max, Albert, Reese, Tony, etc. Plus, Tony’s frat not being bothered by a gay dude? Truly a progressive college. Even if Tony is a rat bastard. We got drag queens, multiple POC , and women in power. Lu being accepted into college with a full ride after she exposed the gender pay gap for bus drivers? Queen shit. I also love her aunt Carol crying over her niece rekindling her friendship with Jay.

- The scene where Albert sent in PrinterBot to deliver a new Jansport backpack to Jay and also ask him to Homecoming was the cutest goddamn shit I had ever seen. I am not joking when I say that it was so so so romantic! Like that’s the kind of thing I can only dream about.

Dislikes:

- Tony. Buddy. Fuck you. That’s all I really want to say on it but I am going to be specific anyway so I remember what a piece of shit he is. Firstly, he and Max had claimed he was not a relationship kind of guy. Only hookups. He’s out here only fucking Jay while being hot. And Jay was the 13th dude he had sex with according to the tally marks on his door. Everyone in his dorm didn’t give a shit even though it seemed like they should know about Dylan. Who is Dylan you may ask? He’s Tony’s boyfriend! Oh my god. He was cheating on his boyfriend and he did it multiple times! Rat bastard. Disgusting. A liar and a user. I hope all of his buddies and Dylan dump him. It is utterly repulsive, his behavior. I already knew there were many red flags from how he exploded at being called a frat boy instead of a fraternity boy and flipping off a driver who rightfully honked at him while he was stalled.

- Jay truly fucked up but I think Max needed to own up to some of his shit more. He blew up his own life and overreacted over the whole Reese debacle. He never let him explain? I think Max is funny and I get why he pushed people away but he really went too far with the Reese situation. The fact that Reese didn’t even move on to someone new but Max took it that way anyway is just so stupid. Miscommunication for the sake of drama at its worst. I will say that Reese’s behavior did not help either. Reminds me of Declan in Felix Ever After. He was a douche to his ex for no real reason and I hate it. But in this particular case, Max was at fault here more than Reese.

- Albert is a far better man than I. But I’ve never been in love so what do I know? But nah, it’s gross of Jay to hook up with a hot dude after telling Albert that he can wait. And the way he lied to Lu too? Ugh. I am a little more lenient on the Lu case though because Lu ditched Jay first throughout the summer for Chip. A guy who was most definitely not worth it. But this might be just me since my friends and I are tight even when one of us is in love. I just don’t get how Jay and Lu had the audacity to abandon each other like that. At least Jay felt guilty over it.

- I don’t tend to have issues with an author’s writing style because everyone is unique. But I think Jay had way too many thoughts in between his dialogue and even others when they were speaking. Like it gave me the image of him standing still and not replying for several hours before continuing his thought. It just breaks up the tension in the worst way in my opinion.

- Also, I get why Jay uses “Frack” instead of “Fuck.” He was raised in an area where over 90% of the population was religious in some capacity, so he was censored all the time, even at home where both of his parents are atheist. But the overuse of “Frack” was a bit much and I kind of wish someone questioned him about it. Because I don’t get why Albert seemed to be instantly attracted to him. Not that “Frack” is necessarily a turn-off but it’s not for me.

- What was with the older gays teasing Jay and Albert on their date at the drag art exhibit? Like, they’re clearly teens and what do you pervs have to do with their sex life? It’s none of your goddamn business. Talking about tops and bottoms too, it’s 2021, let people be whatever the fuck they want. Don’t limit it to top and bottom if we can do either! But if you do, in fact, prefer one over the other, no sin in that. Let Jay and Albert do things in their own time and shut the fuck up. To be clear, I have the utmost respect for my queer elders. Those two fictional gays can go fuck themselves though.

#Booklr #Booksbooksbooks #Book Blog #Book Review #Book Recs #Jay's Gay Agenda #Jason June #LGBTQ #Queer Books #Queer Lit #Queer Representation

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tiredb0igivemesugars · 3 years

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Secrets in the tower

Summary: y/n’s secret is threatening to come out and he’s just simply not ready for that, he doesn’t want this dad, the famous Tony Stark to find out just yet. Yet, things never go according to plan, but that shouldn’t matter, however, what matters is how we react to it.

📝Words:📝 3.2k

⚠️Warnings:⚠️ internalised homophobia, sexual jokes, anxiety

💙Pairing:💙 Tony Stark!dad and reader!son, Peter Parker x male!reader (Steve Rogers x Tony Stark mentioned)

📎Note:📎Yet again, the timeline doesn’t make sense. Also, no proof read.

Being the child of an impulsive man was difficult, to say the least. And to make matters worse, that man just happened to be Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist all that jazz. Your father had a habit of being pushy, controlling and a straight-up dick. Yet, despite all of that, you loved him. He could be a pain in the ass but he never did it on purpose. You had inherited his sharp tongue so there never really was a quiet moment in the Stark-Rogers household. Steve was the man who kept your father grounded, didn’t let him get too ahead of himself. However, sometimes Tony slipped past Steve’s fingers, and on those occasions, Tony raised a lot of hell wherever he pleased and could only be talked down by you. Nick Fury had tried a couple of times, only receiving a bunch of curse words and a request to go fuck himself.

Needless to say, there was a lot of respect between your dad and you. Tony respected your wishes of having no part in the Avengers mess or you not wanting anything to do with the Stark Industries. It was a hard choice that you had to make, the company was his life’s work but you weren’t passionate about the things he was. You weren’t interested in robots or whatever it was that he was working on.

You wanted to do things you were passionate about, even if you weren’t sure what that was yet. I mean, you were still in high school, you didn’t need to know what you were interested in pursuing in the future.

Your locker slammed shut, bringing you back to reality, or more like Hell. You blinked once before turning your head to look at the man who had slammed your locker shut, somebody from the football team. They all looked the same to you, you only knew they were from the football team because of the jerseys they wore, it was all ridiculous in your opinion. Like a cult. Why do they need to wear jackets 24/7? Do they ever wash them?

The boy smiled at you, stretching out his disgusting face, ”Y/n.” He said, trying to make his voice smoky, but ended up just trembling. ”A guy who’s name I don’t even remember. What do you want?” You asked, tired already. His face dropped a little when you showed no emotion, but he composed himself quickly. ”Is it true what everybody keeps saying about you?” He asked, leaning a little closer. Your brows burrowed, ”what?”

He looked around a little before leaning in further, ”you know. Are you like gay?”

The voice rang throughout the halls it seemed, it tried to freeze you, it really did. You had to push through, nobody could know. You cleared your throat and shook your head. ”No, of course not. What do you take me for?” You asked, already turning away to leave.

”You can walk away all you want Stark boy, I know your secrets”, the boy yelled after you, catching a few looks from other students. The last part was said in a taunting sign-song way.

You fished out your phone to text Peter. ”Did you tell someone?” You typed, nervous. Peter was the only one who knew, well he had to since you two were kind of dating.

”Did I tell who what?” He asked, from behind you, startling you. He held out his phone when you turned to look at him. You stared at him, still a little spooked.

”One of the football guys came up to me. Apparently, people have been talking.” You muttered, anxious. Peter was still lost. You sighed, ”Peter, you poor sweet thing. You don’t have a thought behind those eyes, do you Peter?”

He shook his head, confused. You sighed again and showed Peter your limp wrist. Peter’s mouth immediately gaped open ”oh, you mean that. And no, I didn’t tell anyone.”

”Well somebody did. Now everybody knows!” You whisper-yelled. You were panicking. You could not have your dad finding out about this, you couldn’t. Your hands reached for your hair to pull on it. Peter luckily saw your frustration and led you away from all the people. He led you into a bathroom and made sure every stall was empty. ”Just breathe, we’ll figure this out.” Peter said and wet a paper towel with cold water, he pressed the cold paper towel on your forehead to calm you down. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe normally. It felt odd to have the power dynamic changed this way, usually, it was Peter freaking out and you reassuring him. ”I don’t really get why you’re so freaked about this. Your dad is dating Captain America, the environment doesn’t get more accepting than that.” Peter said after he figured out that your breathing had evened out. ”You’re right, I’m just not sure if I’m ready yet.” You sighed and grabbed Peter’s hand. You kissed his knuckles as a sign of thankfulness. ”Where would I be without you?” You said and cupped Peter’s cheek with the hand that previously held his hand. Peter smiled down at you, Peter was at an average height but you had gotten the little height you had from your dad, so not much.

”Why are you smiling like that?” You asked after Peter hadn’t stopped smiling at you even though it had been quite a while already. ”Just appreciating the little things in life,” he said, already laughing a little. ”Oh really?” You said and kicked Peter so that he almost toppled over. Peter groaned at the pain, it wasn’t the first time he had made that joke and it wasn’t the first time you had kicked him. You watched as Peter tried to recover before giving him your hand, ”let’s get to class shall we?” You asked and began leading him out.

You cried once you got home, you had been with Peter all day and it was already dark. You had figured that it was the best to hole away in your own room for the time being.

The elevator and your phone dinged in synch, the elevator signalling that you had reached your floor and the phone alerting you of a text message from Peter. You stepped out of the elevator and eyed the message, a link to a news article. Your finger hovered over the link for a couple of seconds before you finally clicked on it. The further you read the article the more you wanted to claw your own eyes out. ”Tony Stark’s secret child has even a bigger secret” not a title you optimally wanted to go with if you were writing an article. It does catch the eye but could use some work. The article contained some general information like your name and where you went to school, that was before a candid picture filled your screen. You and Peter in the school bathroom that morning. The article went on theorising about what was going on between the two of you, it was even hinted that you had in fact been aware of the picture being taken and only did all of that for your dad to notice you.

A rippled cry left your chest as you threw your phone. You officially hated the world and your life. It was only a matter of time before your dad found out and that is if he didn’t already know, you weren’t ready to have that conversation. It was also a matter of time before all of this was all over the news.

There was a part in your brain that thought that you being gay was an obvious thing in the sense that people would just assume your sexuality just because your dad was married to another man, that part was small but it was loud. You didn’t mind your own sexuality and you loved that your dad had found someone who he was happy with, and the fact that the person happened to be a man was just a nice plus to it all. However, you weren’t sure if everyone else saw it that way. You hadn’t grown up in the spotlight like your dad but it was only a matter of time before you ended up in it and when that happens there’s no telling how the world will react. But overall, really nice thoughts to have when you’re exhausted, you were lucky that it was Friday, you didn’t have to wake up early the next morning. You turned the light switch on in your room, only to find your dad sitting on your bed. He knew.

Tony turned to look at you when the lights turned on, he saw the fresh tear streaks on your cheeks and immediately stood up. ”What happened?” He asked and hugged you. You dropped your bag on the floor, not caring if something broke inside, you buried your head in the crook of his neck and only cried harder. Tony rubbed your back and tried to comfort you without really knowing what was wrong. You didn’t cry that often, yes you got upset pretty regularly and stuff like that but you didn’t really cry that much and even when you did cry, it wasn’t that often that your dad was there to comfort you. In his mind, you cried close to never and those times when you cried you were impossible to console. He thought that when you cried something was seriously wrong. To Tony’s relief, you quieted down after a few minutes and let go of Tony, he copied you.

You sat down on your bed, feeling a little embarrassed that you just cried into your dad’s shoulder like you were eight all over again. Both of you were silent, you waited for Tony to say something and he waited for you to collect yourself.

”You know, if somebody hurt you-” he started, only to be cut off. ”No, no dad nothing like that,” you sniffled and looked at him dead in the eye. He seemed to relax a little at that. ”Even if it was-” he continued quickly, not wanting to be cut off but was anyway. ”No, no one hurt me.” You reassured, sniffling a little. ”Why were you waiting for me anyway?” You asked after Tony remained silent. ”No it’s nothing we can talk about in the morning you seem exhausted.” He said and begun to leave. You grabbed his hand. ”No dad stay. I am tired yes but I can’t fall asleep.” You admitted. Tony sighed and sat down next to you. You let go of his hand only for him to grab it back. ”I heard a rumour.” Tony said quietly. Your shoulders stiffened as more tears filled your eyes. Tony heard your breath hitch and he turned to look at you, the sight broke his heart.

Tony shook his head, this isn’t how he thought he had raised his son, this isn’t how he wanted to handle this. ”You know what. It doesn’t matter, I love you no matter what and we do not have to talk about it, at least not until you’re ready.” Tony said and threw his arm over your shoulders. Hearing what your dad had to say relieved you, it felt nice to know that your dad would love you no matter what. It was clear since he was your dad and all but it’s good that he said it out loud. You rested your head on his shoulder and tried to enjoy this moment with him. You took a deep breath, it was now or never. You were upset that the world had once again ruined something of yours but it wasn’t like you to just give up at a little setback, with that attitude you would never have gotten anywhere in your life. ”It’s true, you know.” You finally said out loud. You felt as Tony tensed a little and you turned to look at him, he was smiling. ”Yeah, kinda figured.” He said and laughed, causing you to playfully slap him. ”On a more serious note, I don’t really get why you wouldn’t tell me but I respect your decision.” He admitted, kind of ruining the moment you were having. ”I didn’t tell you because I felt like it was somehow expected of me, not by you but by others. I think that people find it obvious that I’m gay and I don’t want to be known as that gay guy.” You confessed, hoping your dad wouldn’t feel bad. ”That sounds like internalised homophobia my dearest son.” Tony said. He was right, it’s difficult to say if that was normal or not but nevertheless, he was right. You nodded as a sign of understanding. "Did you see the news article?" You asked, kind of already knowing the answer. "Yeah, it's being taken care of," Tony replied, easing your anxieties about the whole ordeal a little bit.

”I hate that this needed to be a conversation. I just wished that when you started dating someone it would just be like at thanksgiving you walk in and introduce the guy and ask us to clear space for one more chair. I would’ve of course interrogated the guy but I feel like I have the right to-” Tony rambled. You laughed at your dad, he was good at heart and loved you very dearly. ”I don’t think you need to clear space at the table for a chair or interrogate Peter.” You said once Tony stopped rambling. ”I’m still going to interrogate him.” Tony said, knowing that his son was once again right. ”But Peter Parker as your first boyfriend is a good start. He sets the bar a little too high though, doesn’t he?” Tony said, earning a giggle out of you. ”First and only. It doesn’t get much better than Peter Parker does it?” You joked, well you weren’t really joking but you said it that way to not freak your poor old dad out. ”Yeah, he’s a keeper.” Steve’s voice boomed from the door. You and your dad both turned to look at Steve. ”Hi dad.” You said.

You had known Steve for almost your entire life, even if he and your dad hadn't been married for that long. Steve just always kind of was your dad. At the times when Tony would lock himself in his lab for days on end out of old habits, Steve would be there. Steve would keep you company and take care of you for a few days until he too became fed up with Tony being in the lab. Then he would put you on a "secret mission" of rescuing daddy from his lab where he was being held captive by his mind. Later on, you realised that the game had a lot more truths to it than one would imagine. You were even the person to ask your dad to marry Steve.

"Okay sweetie, give this little box to your dad and tell him it's from me," Steve had whispered to you. The both of you had stood in the elevator, on your way down to Tony's lab where he had been for two days already. "I think he knows it's from you." You had whispered back, not really understanding why you were whispering. Steve had given you a lot of instructions on what to do since he had been incredibly nervous. When the doors had opened and you had seen your dad sat in his usual spot you turned to Steve and whispered. "I'm going in blind now. Your plans suck."

Steve had watched from the elevator as you had skipped over to your dad, beaming with happiness. "Hi, daddy!" you had greeted Tony, who had put his screwdriver down and bent down to pick you up. "Hi, sweetie." Tony had greeted you back and placed you on his table, waiting eagerly on your next move. Steve had watched as you swung your legs back and forth and talked your mouth off to your dad whatever it was that had invaded your mind at the age of nine. It was most likely something about your birthday gifts that you got a couple of days earlier. Steve found the sight absolutely adorable, Tony had been hanging at the edge of his seat while listening to you and you were swinging back and forth while talking about something. Tony had even commented on things in between like: "oh now she didn't!" and "Oh I bet!" only to be told off by you: "Daddy you're talking over me. If you're goim to treat your child this badly this young you better fear the old people home you're goim to be put into."

"Did you really come all this way on the elevator to tell me about all of this?" Tony had asked you once he was sure that you had finished talking. "Oh no I didn't. Dad wants to rim you and wanted me to ask you!" You had beamed with proudness, finally, you were getting ahead with your mission. Steve had facepalmed in the elevator, he was sure that Tony would break, but he didn't. "You know squid I think I'm going to need a little more information on this." Tony had said, holding in a lot of laughter. You had reached into your dungarees, finally pulling out the small box and handing it to Tony. "That's for the rim." You had said and pointed at the box. Steve would have killed to see Tony's face at that moment when he had opened the box. Steve had seen how a wide smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Sweetie we talked about that -ng sound." Tony had finally said. You had huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. It wasn't your fault that sometimes others didn't understand you! When you got excited things sometimes got a little jumbled up.

Tony had turned to you after placing the box back on the table. "Will you tell daddy that I would love to wear the ring?" Tony had said and reached to put you back down from the table. "You can tell daddy yourself." You had said and pointed at Steve who was just walking out of the elevator. Tony turned to look at Steve. "So you want to rim me?" Tony had asked Steve who coughed to hide his laughter. "We practised but it didn't really work out," Steve said and placed his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Well daddy's plans suck so I had to go in blind!" you had tried to defend yourself. Tony had agreed with you. "So that's off the table?" Tony asked, looking up to Steve. "No definitely not, it just depends on if you say yes," Steve said, trying to make himself seem confident when in reality he was shitting himself. Tony grabbed the box and placed the ring inside on his finger. "Consider me a rimmed man!" he said and stood up from his chair to kiss Steve.

You shuddered at the sudden flashback, both of your dad's looked at you, concerned. "Just thought about when dad proposed. Just got the joke," You said and scrunched up your nose in disgust. Steve and Tony both laughed.

#marvel #The Avengers #Iron Man #irondad #tony stark #captain america #steve rogers #peter parker #spiderman #x male reader #oneshot #hurt #comfort #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader #tony stark x steve rogers

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musinglymuse · 4 years

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This recommendation list focuses on the main pairing, the hottest couple in Check Please: Eric “Bitty” Bittle and Jack Zimmerman or more affectionately known as Zimbits. They’ve come a long way since the beginning of Check Please!

I’ve compiled some of what I consider excellent fanfics that feature this couple although it does not contain all of my recommendations. They are in no particular order. I plan on creating more recommendation lists down the line, especially for other pairings in this fandom.

As a reminder, please make sure to check the tags and any warnings before reading. Take care of yourself!

Hold It All At Bay by psocoptera Psychic Bond AU // ~50k // R

The theory of extrapolative synchronization of the mirror neurons was debunked back when he was still in his teens, so Jack is reluctant to mention that he can smell Bitty's pies baking from across campus.

Easy P-Z by ebjameston HGTV AU // ~21k // PG-13

Jack and Kent are the ridiculously handsome house-renovating married retired hockey players that’ve been making HGTV an absolutely stupid amount of money with their new show.

And Eric Bittle just got hired to be their show’s caterer.

Eric Bittle, NBC 10 by foryouandbits Journalist AU // ~82k // NC-17

In 2009, Jack Zimmermann was drafted 2nd overall to the Providence Falconers. After a tumultuous first season in the minors, Jack returns to the NHL and is named captain within a year. Known to the media as the "hockey robot," no one seems to be able to break through the polite barrier that Jack has built — no one until Eric Bittle, newest intern at NBC 10. Bitty, interning as a requirement for his journalism degree at nearby Samwell University, forms an instant connection with Jack. Throughout the rest of the season, and the rest of Bitty's junior year at Samwell, the two grow closer while learning how to both trust each other and succeed in their respective careers.

What I want to feel, I want to feel it now by RabbitRunnah Bakery AU // ~28k // PG-13

Eric Bittle knows the way his life is supposed to go: According to an old family curse, the love of his life will take one bite of his famous apple pie and fall madly in love with him. And they'll live happily ever after.

There's only one problem: Jack Zimmermann doesn't like pie.

Back to You by PorcupineGirl Canon Divergence // ~15k // PG-13

When Jack kissed him at graduation over a year and a half ago, Eric had been too shocked to really think about what it might mean, long-term. They'd talked constantly over the next six weeks, enough for him to feel confident that Jack felt the same way he did, and to start to imagine what those far-off futures might look like together.

And then Jack came to Madison for the Fourth of July, and Eric made the stupidest mistake of his life: He let himself and Jack talk themselves out of it.

he will take you by hockeydyke Camp Counselor AU // ~55k // PG-13

Jack Zimmermann has been a part of Camp Samwell for the majority of his life-- first as a camper when his parents spent summers in nearby at a lake house in scenic upstate New York, then as a counselor, and now as the program director of the entire camp. The problem now is that the camp is attracting bad luck left and right, and they’re losing campers and staff at an alarming rate. Enter Eric Bittle, Jack’s new co-director. He’s young, enthusiastic, and maybe he’ll have what it takes to get the situation turned around.

Unfortunately, something powerful is in control of Camp Samwell, and it wants Bitty to get out.

<lj-cut text="you see who I am and what I did"> by tomato_greens Rock Band AU // ~11k // PG-13

Rolling Stone

No Jack Zimmermann Is An Island by Jennifer S. Harada

After avoiding me for a week, Jack Zimmermann calls to ask me to meet him at a bakery. Or maybe a diner; he’s not sure what to call it. A brunch place, although they make great pies, too.

“Sure,” I say, “whatever you want, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Jack,” says Zimmermann. His voice is higher than I expect it to be, and his Québécois accent more pronounced. “I’ll see you there.”

someone to count on (and other cheesy idioms about finding your soulmate) by heyfightme & omgpieplease Soulmate AU // ~9k // PG-13

Eric’s counter reads 1. That’s all. Just 1. He’s eighteen years old, has not left the state of Georgia in his entire life, and his counter reads 1.

He has spent many mindless afternoons and worn out many pens in tracing it over into a 0. If the counter did read 0, the morning wouldn’t be looming like the black rainclouds that Mama used to call “omens.”

Eric is leaving for college in the morning. When he passes the state line from Georgia to North Carolina in the passenger seat of his Mama’s sedan, he’ll also be passing the last chance he has for the counter to make it to 2.

Calendar Boy by darter_blue Canon Divergence // ~15k // R

It was supposed to be totally innocent. A friend of Lardo’s was putting together a little project, compiling a calendar of some of the openly gay athletes on campus, fundraising for the LGBTQ+ community outreach programs at Samwell.

Bitty hadn't really even been reluctant. Excited about the prospect of a fun photo shoot and a chance to dress up a bit, do something glamorous.

And he thinks it's a great photo (if not a bit more revealing than what he was expecting…). And when the calendar comes out it’s nerve racking but exciting. Until one by one the team finds a copy (Jack may be hiding one under his mattress), and then it's pandemonium.

is it too late now to say sorry by magneticwave AU // ~5K // PG-13

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, Eric types furiously into Twitter. THIS IS LIKE RENAMING LAKE WOEBEGONE “LAKE SCOTT WALKER.” // Or, the only person in the entirety of Canada who is upset about Jack Zimmermann’s first Stanley Cup is Eric Bittle, and by God is every single one of Eric’s 160,000 Twitter followers going to hear about it.

I Can Feel the Storm Inside You by Effyeahzimbits AU // ~15k // NC-17

Life is going good for Eric Bittle. It's summer, he has an exciting new job with the Providence Falconers, he's in a club celebrating with his friends, and he currently has a Canadian Adonis grinding up against his ass. Life is good.

Until said Canadian Adonis flees the morning after some mind-blowing sex, leaving behind a rubbish note. Bitty tries hard to forget about him and his huge, pert ass and focus on his new job, but then Canadian Adonis and the Falc's grumpy, anti-social captain turn out to be one and the same. And Bitty really couldn't forget about that huge, pert ass.

three words that became hard to say by the_one_that_fell Canon Divergence // Series // ~35k // R

Ten years after Samwell, Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann find each other again.

Flight Check by edgarallanrose Flight Attendant AU // ~15k // NC-17

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

Bits of Heaven by WrathoftheStag Older / Bakery AU // ~22k // R

At age 44, NHL legend, Jack Zimmermann, knows three things for sure: retirement is boring, love is probably not in the cards for him, and his aging father makes a pretty good roommate. When the bakery "Bits of Heaven" opens up down the street, Jack finds that a happily ever after is possible—even late in the game.

A Tolerance for Pain by uniqueinalltheworld Soulmate AU // ~3k // R

It makes sense, his mother tells him when he's nine: Jack's such a physical person, of course his indicator would be his soulmate's pain. Jack doesn't have anything to say about it, really, he just scowls and winces as his soulmate falls down again. Alicia Zimmermann, whose heterochromia reversed itself upon laying eyes on Bob for the first time, because she’s more passionate about visual media, pats him on the shoulder with a completely insufficient amount of sympathy. Jack's backside is sore for months as the falls keep happening, and he can only think that somewhere, his soulmate must be learning how to skate.

#zimbits #omgcp #omgcp fic rec #jack/bitty #bitty/jack

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thedramaclubs · 3 years

Text

Zazz

Summery: shits going down after prom and if you’ve seen the musical/movie be prepared for a gay panic from Patton

Warning: does get a little heated with one of the ships, and of course homophobia in the beginning

Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety, demus/dukeceit

When singing

Janus-orange (tumblr doesn’t have yellow)

Patton-blue

Both- purple

A few days after prom and things are going crazy. On Monday after school the news went to James Madison high to interview the school and Mrs Greene about what happened. Mrs Greene was now being interviewed.

“I’ve been told to say something. The courts said that Patton would not be safe if we allows him to attend prom with the other students because the uncomfortable truth is there are some people in our community that are offended by his life choices. We thought this arrangement was the only course of action.”

Suddenly news reports ask so many questions

“Mrs Greene are you homophobic?” “Are you saying sexuality is a life choice?” Then she exclaimed “ This is uncomfortable for me! To be infront of a camera like this. To read horrible things about my town. And I am just a mother. I am not any kind of a spokes person and I love all the students at James Madison high as much as my own son.” She walks up to Logan who was watching his mom being interviewed. “We are in this situation because of a group of people, privilege people from New York!”

She sighed

“They are the villains. You should be writing about them not us.”

Back at Patton’s house he and Janus we’re watching the interview on his computer. Patton had been in his room for days hiding from it all. He wore his cat onesie that Logan got for him on their 1 year anniversary of being together. He wore it because he wanted to feel like Logan was giving him a hug and he wanted to feel like Logan was their with him.

“Ugh that women totally doesn’t make my skin crawl!”

“I can’t wrap my head around all this. This is a nightmare. I’ve never been so alone in my life.” Patton started to cry a little. Janus pulled him into a hug.

“Your not alone you have friends.”

“Yeah, well where are they?” At that moment, Remus, Thomas, Joan, and Roman came in.

“Hey, we brought Haagen dazs.”

“It’s fancy ice cream.” Thomas Said as he had the bag

“I know what Hagen dazs is hand it over.” Patton grabbed the bag out of Thomas’s hands and Remus sat on the bed next to Pat.

“Are you Okay?”

“I’m amazing, the whole world is talking, making it sound like I’m the one responsible for it but no one is talking the hate there’s just so much hate. There’s so much hate.........I’m gonna need more of this shit.” Patton got the ice cream open and started eating his cookies and cream. Remus then started talking.

“Listen I know you said you don’t want our help anymore but we can’t let them get away with this. That pta women who the hell does she think she is?! I want her to get run over by a bus!!!”

“She’s a monster that’s what!”

Remus inhaled to calm down “Joan what can we do?”

“I don’t know. She’s spun this whole thing herself to make her look like the victim she’s good if she didn’t shop at dress barn she could work in P.R.”

Roman was just standing in the corner but felt like he should say something and so he did.

“I know everybody’s angry but we have to face the facts. We made matters worse. So the best thing we can do is disinfect our things and go home.”

Everyone said at the same time “NO WE ARE NOT LEAVING!!”

“We are always not leaving!! Please I want to leave this horrible place”

“No we are staying here we gotta turn this thing around. We gotta take back the press!”

“But how darling?” Said Janus as he was still on the bed.

“Patton you gotta be the face of this story you gotta go on tv and show the real asshole is!”

“And that will give him a prom?”

“This isn’t about prom anymore. This is about right and wrong you know what you have to do this right.

“I don’t know what I know.” Patton continue eating the ice cream.

“We need a national audience....what about Jimmy Fallon?”

“I can’t just pop Jimmy Fallon out of my ass!!” Exclaimed Joan. “If we want an audience we gotta go big and to to go big we have to use that one call to Eddie Sharp!” Everyone was in agreement except for Roman “No I am not calling that basterd!!”

“Just ask for a favor!”

“If I ask him for something he will want something in return and what he will want is the hamptons house. He trying to get it for years. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY DISNEY AND BROADWAY CRUISES I HAD TO PAY FOR THAT HOUSE!!!!! I would rather pluck my eyes out and put them in a vacuum and call that even!”

“If that will work just pluck your eyes out then!! *sigh* Joan just get the boy on tv. I don’t care if it’s a cut on family guy just do your magic.”

“Aye aye.” Joan left to try and get Patton on TV

“This is great.” Patton then decide to say something

“No not great. I’m sorry but their is no way I’m getting in front of a camera and telling my story. I cannot do that just no. Just accept it we lost deal with it.” Patton went to a corner and stood with his arms cross. Then Thomas came up with and idea.

“Ya know there might be a better way to rid of this community by extension of nation of this cancer of intolerance!” Everyone was dead silent

Eventually Remus asked “Why are you still here? I thought you had a tour?”

“Indianapolis was canceled and so was everywhere else. But I’m thinking feature forth and seek out the younger people and rap in a non musical sense. And soon understanding could lead to, dare I say it......love.” Thomas left and now there was Roman, Remus, Janus and Patton.

Patton turned around to see their faces and Remus broke the silence again “Listen kitty cat, I know this is hard but if you don’t do something, they will.”

At that moment Janus got an idea. “Don’t worry he’s got stage fright. I’ll talk to the kid.” Roman had already walked out leaving Remus and Janus outside the door.

“Are you sure about this Jannie?” Janus put his hand on Remus’s check and kissed him.

“Of course darling.” Said Janus very seductively. Remus couldn’t help himself he had been touch starved so and picked up Janus and pinned him against the wall.

“Damn why are you so hot?!” Remus passionately kiss the smaller man as Janus put his hands on Remus’s face pulling him in closer. Sadly, it came to an end because their was a another short man waiting for Remus.

“REMUS CMON!!” Remus put his husband down and gave him one last kiss “See you tonight Jan.” Remus left leaving him and Patton alone.

“You two really love each other huh?”

“Yeah I love him so much. He may be an idiot sometimes but, he’s my idiot.” Patton laughed a little then got back on track.

“Now before you lecture me or....kick me to death with those crazy Anatlope legs.....or whatever it is your gonna do, I know I should do something. I just can’t.” Janus walked back to the bed.

“Look kid, not everyone gets a chance to step out of the chorus. You gotta do this for all the those people who used to be gypsies.”

“I’m too scared.” He hid in the cat hoodie and Janus got an idea.

“Let me tell you a story. 1975 and the original company of “Chicago” was in previews. Suddenly the worst outbreak in history hit the cast and their down to the third cover for Roxie Heart and he’s scared just like you.” Patton took the hood off of his head to listen to the rest of the story.

“So, fosse was a real ball buster puttin him through a pain an he’s petrified. Even worse he’s performing the routine like a robot. So the boss pulls him aside and says “hey kid, snap out of it. You got the steps, you got the notes, but where’s the Zazz baby.”And although he had never heard that word before he knew exactly what it meant and he crushed that performance. The audience screaming bloody murdur.”

“And that boy was you?” Janus gave him a blank stare

“Yes it was me how fucking old fo you think I am!? It was 1975. But the point is every fosse boy knows that story. All about finding your inner strength.”

When a challenge lies ahead and you are filled with dread and worry

Give it some zazz

If your courage dissapers what’ll get you fears to scurry

Give it some zazz

Zazz is style plus confidence, it may seem corny or kitsch

But when scared or on the fence you’ll find that zazz will soon make fear become your bitch

And if folks say you can’t win what’ll will stop them in a hurry

Janus layed on the bed and kicked his leg up high that gave Patton a gay panic

Give it some zazz

There’s no contest for a boy who has some razzmatazz

So call their bluff

And strut your stuff

Like no chick in this hick town has

Instead of giving up

Give it some zazz

“I just don’t think I can do it. The thought of getting in front of all those people look at my hands their shaking”

“If your hands are shaking....”

Just turn’m into jazz hands

“Doesn’t that feel better?”

“No”

“Try this. Close your eyes.” Patton stood up and closed his eyes

“Zazz doesn’t just come out, it comes from within. Now think about Mrs Greene.” Patton put his hand across his face.

“Think about that fake prom!” He took his other hand and did jazz hands.

“Now think of finally doing something about it!” Patton started doing moves and it filled him and Janus with joy.

“Oh I’m seeing it! I’m seeing your Zazz! Now follow me!”

Do like the brave and bossy do

And if they tear you apart

Ask what would Bob Fosse do?

He’d make the people have a step ball change of heart

Ball change!!!

And if folks say you can’t win what’ll stop them in a hurry

Give it some zazz!!

There’s no contest for a boys who has some razzmatazz

So call their bluff BAM!

And strut my stuff BAM!

Like no chick in this hick town has

Instead of giving up

Give it some zazz

Now that you’ve found your zazz it’s time to show it to the world. You think you know how?

YEAH!!

People to tag @artissi-jam @patt-off @frogsandcookies @icantthinkofacreativeurl @actingonimpulse @purplestarrystars

I’m back!!!!

#sanders sides #livy writes #sanders sides the prom au #logicality #prinxiety #demus #dukeceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #c!thomas #ts joan

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chaotically-cas · 3 years

Note

OKAY SO ENBY PONY OR ACE PONY

B O T H

YES

I LOVE YOU

Non Binary + Asexual Ponyboy Headcanons

Non Binary Headcanons:

Their style is pretty much the same but they also love wearing a skirt occasionally

When Pony came out Johnny started calling them “Pony person”

But that just felt wrong

So now they only go by Pony

As much as Steve hates the kid you wouldn’t catch him dead misgendering them

Darry slips up occasionally but in his heart of hearts he is trying his best

Dally being so used to calling them Ponyboy he practices in the mirror at night

“Hey Pony! What’s up Ponybo- damn it. What’s up Pony?”

Dally & Two Bit stealing more feminine clothing for them because feminine clothes are expensive

Pony still wears muscle tees because they don’t owe anyone androgyny

Overall the gang respects tf out of their pronouns

“The boys & Pony”

Platform shoes™️

PONY WEARS A SHIT TON OF BLUSH PASS IT ON

Whenever the Soc’s even attemp to use a slur against them Darry has their ass beat in seconds

Whenever they are out in public and Pony gets misgendered everyone is so quick to correct it

Even Steve

“And what would you like sir”

“Watch it, they ain’t got no binary”

Modern! - Loves Jonathan Van Ness

Has a very cute non binary flag pin on their favorite shirt 🥺

Soda helping Pony through bad spells of gender dysphoria

“It’s gonna be ok Pony, you are the best PERSON I know!”

Ace Pony Headcanons

Warning: acephobia

Shy gigging when being hit on

Blushing like a mad man

Thinking they were gay for the longest time but when being asked out by a gut feeling nothing either

Being really confused for a long long time

Finally excepting they could be perfectly happy without any desire for a sexual relationship

They also aren’t big fans of the hugging or kissing side is relationships either but they don’t mind relationship titles

At first the gang not understanding what it means at all

“What the fuck is an asexual”

At school they get called a lot of mean things

Broken

Robot

Etc

This really hurts them

But as much as Darry might not understand he will still have the person who said it’s head on a platter

Rumors that Johnny and Pony are together because Johnny is the only one Pony hangs out with a lot

Soda being a bit disappointed he may never stand next to Pony at their wedding

But hey more time for Pony to themself

And more money to spend on only themself

Once had a really big crush on a girl

They were afraid they were faking & weren’t actually ace

Even if that is the case pony would still be very valid

But as soon as she tried to hold their very sweaty hand, they were out of there

But they are still very good friends!!!

They are practically dating, they call each other partners & stuff but just without the touchy stuff

Dates without kisses

Movie nights without sex

You get the gist

————

I tried my hardest lol

May have pulled from some irl situations shhh

But anyway ily you’re amazing & normalize ace relationships

#the outsiders #the outsiders book #the outsiders dally #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders incorrect quotes #the outsiders memes #the outsiders movie #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders steve #darry curtis #sodapop headcanons #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy #stay gold ponyboy #ponyboy Headcanons #asexual #non binary

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munamania · 4 years

Text

the promise (ch. 1)

a/n: hi yes i wrote for the clown gays like a year ago and im deciding to post this now sjdghfg pls be kind

pair: richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak

word count: 8.5k

warnings: swearing, blood ment, homophobic slurs, abuse mentions, psychological trickery, richie’s parents start out a lil absent but they get better i promise

excerpt: “You’re gonna miss curfew, Rich,” Eddie mumbles, leaning out the window on his elbows. And Richie hears it: you’re alone, you know what could happen. Stay safe.

“I’m not afraid, Eds.” He means it. Richie can’t draw up what fear even feels like right then. With a flick of an eyebrow, he nods toward the door. “Mother is waiting.”

“I know.”

read on ao3

No, it’s not that Richie is gay. It’s not like he daydreams about taking it up the ass all fucking day.

Henry Bowers and his dipshit crew might have a different opinion, but they can honestly, truly suck his dick (in the non-homo way - he has taste). The fact that they took joy in throwing him and his friends around, calling them names, and threatening their whole lives never mattered before; the losers took care of each other, and most of the time it was easy to forget about those other assholes.

Being called four-eyes when he needed glasses in the second grade never got to him that bad - they were saving him from having to see their ugly faces when they knocked them off, so really, he should have thanked them - and he didn’t care when they shoved him around for being short before his growth spurt, and it didn’t even bother him that much when they mocked his totally refined voices. He knew his own talent, and what he could do with it if he could just focus.

But the first time they singled him out as the fag of the group, well, it stung.

He never told the others about that day. He never told them how long he cried, how broken he felt sobbing on that park bench. He never worked up the nerve to tell them why he couldn’t face Paul Bunyan anymore, no, he simply breezed past without lifting his eyes, without missing a beat of conversation.

At least it got easier with time.

All things considered, his home life isn’t terrible.

Richie has his own room, a roof, and usually a decently-stocked fridge. Enough to get by.

He’s left alone a lot. His parents are always at work, and when they’re not, they take on the personalities of monotonous robots sitting in front of the TV, so he spends a lot of time skimming through comics or jacking off when he’s not running around with his friends.

But, that’s just the thing. Somehow, Richie, life of every conversation, King of Comedy, Trashmouth, funny-man Tozier, was born to the most boring people of all time. They never engage with his jokes; on a good day, he receives a breezy, “That’s nice, sweetie,” from his mom, or, “Okay, that’s enough, son,” from his dad. Blank stares. Pasty, purple-tinted white eyes. Never a hug, never much past a ‘goodnight.’ Not even a simple, “How was school?” when they got home.

Richie vividly remembers the day that he bounced in his seat at the end-of-the-year ceremony at school, a bustling bundle of nerves prepared to brag and boast to his parents about his awards in science and, surprisingly (his teacher hated him) English - he took to the dramatics of Shakespeare quite well. He practiced his entrance to them several times over in his head, perhaps overly, unconvincingly modest or Shakespeare wants what I have. Anything to get a laugh. A ruffle of his hair from his dad. A forehead kiss from his mom, like when he was little.

They didn’t show. He still doesn’t know where he went wrong.

In a stark, bubbling contrast to his parents, there’s this kid in his group of friends. He remembers one of the first times they met, the boy approaching him, all sweet apple-cheeked and neat polo and ironed khaki shorts; Richie had flicked an eyebrow upward, a not-so-subtle really?, because he never figured that clean-freak Eddie Kaspbrak would be able to handle more than three seconds in Trashmouth Tozier’s presence.

But boy, was he a lot of fun.

Eddie was loud and super easily wound-up, screaming about fucking UTIs and do not fucking push me man all the piss on the walls of this city could fill the lake and despite his good-boy appearance, he shot back with just as much fire as Richie threw at him.

And fuck, Richie loves it. He loves the ease with which they bounce back and forth. He loves the fury in the boy’s eyes when Richie pisses him off, the laughter that always comes about between them once they settle. The crossing arms and pouting Eddie, who he theorizes secretly loves it when Richie calls him pet names (not that he’d ever admit it); the loud and greatly-gesticulating Eddie who yells louder and pushes harder when Richie coos at him; the one who quietly accepts Richie’s affection, and offers it back in subtle ways: simply holding Richie’s arm when he slings his arms around Eddie’s neck from behind, allowing him to sit next to him thigh-to-thigh, and overall not completely cringing and pushing him off. He took it as a compliment, though they’d never mention it out loud.

On an unfortunate night, his comfortable little world comes crashing down.

His parents are out for some sort of conference weekend trip or whatever, and they’ve called in his deadbeat uncle to ‘watch over the house.’ Not necessarily him (probably because he isn’t home that much), but the house obviously can’t stand up by itself—and, well, maybe they didn’t trust Richie to not accidentally leave the door open, or leave the stove on, or some other stupidly irresponsible little thing. So, the crusty old guy shows up with his greasy, oiled hair and his lack of deodorant and his wilting knees. It makes Richie miss Eddie so, so much when they part, because a.) he smells a lot better, and b.) it would be fucking hilarious for him to see what Richie has to put up with. Like, he’s really not the most rodent-like of his family.

Anyway, Richie doesn’t remember what he says. Something slightly instigative, about the lack of any gourmet-level food in the house (he claimed calmly while wasting away on microwave tater tots and bread, even though his parents had left behind plenty of money to keep him alive), and then suddenly hands were on him.

It stings like a bitch.

His uncle gets up, with a quiet mumble that Richie makes out to be, “Well, let’s see…” and when he finally gets in the kitchen, facing Richie with eyes rung red and shaking fists, he grabs his nephew by a fistful of t-shirt and shoves him against the counter.

At that moment, he really wants his mom. Why the fuck did she and dad leave him with this guy?

“I don’t see you fucking working, or doing much of anything around here, kiddo.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.”

A blow to his mouth. Richie resists the urge to lift trembling fingers to the spot that he can feel swelling.

“Don’t talk to me like that, asshole! You think you’re so fucking funny, huh?” His uncle drags him forward and shoves him back with conviction, and this time Richie doesn’t answer.

He should have known to stay quiet when he saw his uncle drinking and smoking incessantly in the house, even though his mother had requested that he stay outside for that. It must have been a rough day at the bar, or wherever the fuck he spent his time.

“You need to learn when to be quiet, dipshit. Have some fucking respect.”

For the guy who ignored him for years, didn’t stay in touch, and wasted his existence away on the couch.

Right.

But Richie is snapped from his indignant, grounding thoughts when his uncle lowers his voice. “Do I make myself clear?”

Richie frowns in his face, utterly confused from the swell of attention, still limply holding a bag of bread in his left hand.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes sir.”

The wretched man makes a point to push him into the corner of the cupboards with such a force that he collapses to his knees and can just feel the bruises forming. And he sits there for a minute, all sorts of betrayal and anger and sadness suffocating him.

But he stands up.

And with stinging eyes, a stuffy nose, and shaking hands, he makes himself a simple peanut butter sandwich.

And he stays upstairs for the remainder of the night

It’s a warm, soothing day outside; the sun glows and birds are chirping like some kind of fucking cartoon. In the tall grass the losers sit in frogs croak and crickets chirp and they make a mess of themselves in the circle they form.

“Damn, Rich, what happened to you?” comes Stan’s voice, concerned eyes flashing down to his now royally fucked-up mouth.

“Yeah, dude, what the fuck?” says Bev through a sandwich, truly a charmer.

Richie grins at Bev but answers to Stan, ignoring the sting in the corner of his lips. “Guess I’m a fighter at heart.”

“Richie—“

Bev chimes in once again, a bright, snarky grin on her face, “Richie, you can tell us if it was another accident, we won’t judge. Promise.”

Bev has a way about her; he knows she’s not genuinely the largest, most gaping asshole on earth, and that she actually cared a lot and cried over her friends in the darkest nights, but she also knew how to make light of something dark (even the worst). She probably knew. She probably just had his back in her own funny way, like taking the pressure off the reality.

“Bev, I’ve really, truly, always appreciated your charm, but as my dearest favorite person on earth, fuck off.”

“Richie,” Bill says, then hesitates. In that time, Bev flips Richie the bird, which he answers with an air kiss. “What really h-ah-happened?” He looks him over with a frown, clear blue eyes swallowing him in concern and maybe love.

Richie offers a simple smirk before settling against the trunk of a tree. “Don’t worry about it, Billiam. I’ve got it under control.”

“Whatever you say,” Bev says. She tosses a baggie over to him with his favorite sandwich.

Stan isn’t so easily convinced, eyeing Richie up carefully, but he sits with Bev on the boulder she’s settled on when Richie doesn’t falter in his casual disposition.

It takes a lot of work, as always.

Ben shows up moments later, with a calm and tender, “You alright, Rich?” and when Richie goes off on a stupid tough-guy spiel, he simply lays at the foot of the boulder and flicks open a book, meeting Richie with one of his melting smiles, a gentle invitation, a sweet If you ever need it, I’m there, but allowing him the space to go on as normal. Which is nice.

Richie knows they all care. He knows he could tell them, could pour all of the terror and tragedy he felt the night before into the air and they’d fill up the space; Mike would give him the tightest hug in the world, one to combat the most heinous of things; Stan would sit with him as long as he needed it, Bev would come through with a smoke and the best advice in the world, and Ben would tell him stories or just hang out with him until everything felt a bit lighter, and Bill would give him anything in the world because Richie would do it back. That’s the way they were.

But he can’t do it.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” comes a nasally voice, huffing and puffing, new pressure leaning against the tree, and Richie grins. Eddie.

“It’s okay, Eds,” he says, reaching over a few fingers to tickle Eddie’s knee, giggling when the boy smacks at his hand and doubles over with an exclamatory, Richie!

The others offer a few sleepy greetings, all soaked up in their own forms of entertainment for the quiet afternoon: Bev and Ben, heads close enough to share his walkman; Stan, reading some lengthy oath to birds or something; Mike snoozing lightly on Bill’s shoulder while Bill pores over some adventure map from a fantasy novel.

They had all agreed that it was too tiresome to go swimming today, as the previous night was spent out at Stan’s with a bonfire, and for a few of them, some stolen booze (not very much, but enough that they could pretend to be drunk and giggle profusely). But they still wanted to hang out, so this was the middle ground. An afternoon picnic in the shade.

Eddie quickly notices his lip and drops down to his side. “Richie, what happened to you? Was it Bowers again? I swear to god, I will fucking kill that guy--”

Richie smiles softly at the protective words, and tries to turn it into a smirk. “Eddie, baby, don’t worry,” he says. “It’s just a little bump.”

Surprisingly, Eddie sidles up next to him, using the pad of his thumb to press at the sides of Richie’s mouth, apparently assessing some sort of damage. “Don’t call me that.” He scowls. “What did you do? Did you ice it? Clean this cut at all? Cause you could get an infection, you know, you really should clean it.”

Richie bats his eyes. “Clean it for me, sweets?”

“Fuck off. Forget I cared.”

“Ah, come on, Spaghettio. I didn’t mean it.” He pulls Eddie down with a simple gesture, pressing his palm to the boy’s shoulder and dragging. The boy rests against the trunk, nestled in Richie’s side.

But that’s the complicated thing. He sorta wishes he could mean it. In a small, poking-at-the-back-of-his-head-always kind of way.

“Just—tell me what happened,” Eddie pipes up quietly from his side.

When Richie glances down, he takes to heart how disgruntled Eddie still looks, crossing his arms and almost pouting.

He shrugs. “Your mother was simply affronted by how good I am with my mouth, Eds, she couldn’t take it anymore.”

Eddie presses his mouth into a line, rolls his eyes at the stupid British voice Richie had developed, and busies himself with a thrilling edition of The Lancet

Later, as dusk settles in and pale purple skies replace the bright blue, and the club leaves with simple ‘goodbye’s and promises to do something fun tomorrow, Eddie shifts from his nap. He’d passed out with his head slammed back against Richie’s arm (he’d caught it just before he fell to the ground, avoiding a lengthy rant about potential concussions and medical bills), curled in the opposite direction from Richie’s abdomen. As he wakes, through, he rolls over, elbow digging into Richie’s side.

“Ah-ow,” Richie groans, sitting up from his cataconic state of reading Ben’s stolen comics and avoiding moving and waking Eddie. But he’d just dug the pointiest part of his entire firecracker body into Richie’s ribs, where Richie had attempted and failed to nurse a bruise he’d accrued from a vicious cupboard corner. It was at an awkward angle, and he refused to go down to get more ice packs once they melted, so he slept unsoundly and laid uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles, voice muddled with sleep. “Shit, it’s late. When did I fall asleep? My mom’s gonna kill me.”

Even in that gurgly, world upside-down state of post-nap consciousness, the boy freaks out about his mother. Richie sighs and rubs his shoulder.

“You’re all good, Eddie boy,” he attempts for a creaky, witchy voice, but it’s half-assed because he gets so tired of this lady. Not Eddie ranting, that was fine, and he knew the kid needed to get it out of his system; but he was fucking tired of Mrs. K hurting his boy. “You took your meds on time, fell asleep shortly after. Might need to amputate my arm now, though.”

His boy.

Eddie sits up, and Richie stares at his back, illuminated in the dusk, because he wore a fun yellow today, resting prettily against his tanned, freckled skin.

(Maybe Richie had looked over, amused, for a few moments, as Eddie snored and twitched his nose in his sleep; and he counted the freckles on Eddie’s arm, his cheek, whatever he could see for entertainment.)

Eddie glances back at him, and Richie distracts himself with his bag, shifting his eyes awkwardly from the boy’s gaze.

“Well, well, good sir, shall I walk you home on this fine night?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Richie, what’s that?”

His eyes are trained intently on the aforementioned bruise, and its cousins that pepper his hips, only exposed because he slipped and let his shirt ride up when he bent over.

He clears his throat, scrambling for some dumbass answer, wholeheartedly unprepared for the severity of this conversation. “You know how the ladies throw themselves—“

“Okay, you know what, fine.” Eddie stands quickly, stumbling slightly, and braces himself against the tree. “You don't have to fucking tell me. Just come home with me, okay?”

“A night with Eddie Kaspbrak? Why, you’re really a dream-come-true kind of guy.”

“Your lip is bleeding again,” he responds simply, apparently not one for fun at this very moment. “I can clean it.”

Richie pops up from the ground, feeling quite pip pip, tally ho about the whole thing. “Righty-o, Eddie boy.

That’s how he ends up sitting on the edge of Eddie’s porcelain-white bathtub, dirtying it with his messy jeans and dirt-coated nails.

It takes a lot of strategic planning, lots of sneaking past Mrs. K, and then sweet-talking and kisses from Eddie once she wakes up freaking out about how late he was. But, after about fifteen minutes of contest-worthy screeching from the woman, Eddie stomps up the stairs, slams the door with a very I’m gonna pull my hair out look, and has to take about three extra minutes to compose himself, ranting under his breath.

Richie just stares at his distorted reflection in the shining silvery faucet, the violet under his eyes and the renewed puffiness of his lip, Hawaiian pattern of his shirt disheveled in the odd mirror.

He knows not to engage unless Eddie actually speaks up to him, meaning this run-in was probably just overly grating and mentally draining, considering, well, how his mother is. He just needs a second to get it out, not any kind of heartfelt talk (which Richie sucks at anyway) or even a lighthearted joke. The boy paces and growls into a fist. Then, eventually, he breathes, “Okay.”

Eighteen minutes. Eighteen minutes of sitting around and waiting for Eddie, just for him to kneel in front of Richie, doe eyes clear and focused, dabbing so, so gently at his battered lip.

In a way, it’s heaven.

“I take it your mom can’t wait for me to buy dinner, eh?”

Eddie sighs. “Apparently this time I’m gonna contract malaria, Rich, didn’t you know? There’s an incredible outbreak this time of year and I’m obviously not prepared to avoid fucking mosquitoes, what with my fifteen bottles of bug spray and essential oils. I’ll probably die tomorrow!”

“I will make sure that your funeral is a fucking rager dude, don’t you worry. Booze on me.”

A ghost of a smile.

“Richie…” he breathes out in a long winded way, saying nothing and everything for way too long. “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

Richie raises an eyebrow. “Man, I thought you were gonna back out on your previous offer, but I guess the call for a night with Richie Tozier is too much to back away from. I get it.” He smiles painfully at the way Eddie’s face crumples with something like boredom. “Christ, dude, what’s your poison?” He makes a face at the antiseptic substance that trickles into his mouth.

“Maybe if you kept your mouth shut for once, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

Richie beams, which just causes Eddie to huff even more.

“Please, just stay still!

“It was my uncle,” Richie finally says, forcing a bored expression onto his face as he flips through a rather dull magazine, sprawled on Eddie’s bed. “And it wasn’t a big deal.”

Panic flashes across Eddie’s face. His cheeks burn red, and his leg jitters anxiously against Richie’s, but his voice remains level, which Richie thanks dear lordy Jesus for. “Your uncle? He hit you?”

“Well,” Richie pauses. “Uh, kinda. He was just really drunk, Eds, and he got mad and I was in the way.”

“In the way?”

He shrugs, a small smile quirking his lip up. “Am I not usually?”

“Rich.” Eddie’s voice is really soft in that moment, gentler and quieter than anything Richie has heard from him in all the time he’s known his fellow loudmouth. It simultaneously terrifies and thrills him. Eds. Eddie brings his knees to his chest, leaning back against the headboard. “You say a lot of dumb shit, but that doesn’t mean you should be hurt.” He must notice Richie’s uncomfortable look, because he adds lightly, “Most of the time, anyway.”

“Woah, Eddie, don’t go overboard with the kindness or anything--”

“Damn it, Richie.” He casts his eyes downward. “I’m just trying to say - um - thanks for telling me. Sorry if that’s fucked up to say, but I know you didn’t want to, so, yeah. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

Richie swallows deeply with a slow nod, focusing his eyes on the blurry words in front of him. “Well, if there’s anyone I’d tell, it’s Dr. K. He’s gonna be the one to save my life, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right.” He kicks at Richie’s foot, a subtle way of telling him to move over so he can get under the covers.

“Night, toots.”

“Goodnight, Richie.

Richie thinks he knows everything possible about Eddie thus far.

He knows when he needs to take his meds, an internal clock he recently developed; he knows that the boy is not nearly as fragile as he sometimes seems, and if he really tried, he could pack a punch; he knows that he loves fervently and he’ll always take care of his friends, even if it’s in a way that would usually disgust him.

Case in point: he didn’t seem to freak out at Richie’s bleeding lip, even when a steady stream of blood started dripping down his chin from the contact of trying to clean it out, though he usually cringed if he got so much as a scratch from a twig. Somehow, some way, he simply held pressure on the wound and told Richie to hold some ice on it (“Ordering me around now, hot stuff? I can work with that,”), and washed his own hands thoroughly in the sink.

What he doesn’t know until that night, is that Eddie is a cuddler. At least, half-asleep, groggy Eddie is. Like, this kid must be more starved for affection than he is. Richie had curled himself in a ball toward the edge of the mattress, willing himself not to do so much as even press his back against Eddie’s, way too afraid of the ease with which two people can tangle themselves together in the night, terrified of what would happen if he woke up with Eddie’s hands on him, wrapped up in Eddie, Eddie’s terrible morning breath against his cheek, Eddie Eddie Eddie. But while Richie had stressed himself into falling halfway off the bed, Eddie had flopped over in his sleep, slung an arm across Richie’s waist and, seeming to sense that he had something to hold, pulled him in tight to his chest. Though Richie’s breath caught in his throat, he figured, well, no one could really see them then, so what was the harm in passing out like that? No one had to know. He could pass it off like he’d been sleeping the whole time.

But he cherishes every fucking minute of it

Richie wakes to the sound of something pounding, a steady beat, and in that state of slowly waking from a dream he thinks it’s some old drum, playing lowly in the corner by some restless figure. When he comes to, his eyes creaking open slowly, he sees the gentle orange-ish hue of the morning sky, the neat room around him, the scent of detergent and soothing fabric softener wafting near his face. And he realizes his head is tucked into Eddie’s side, the boy’s slowed heartbeat thumping softly against his ear.

Normally, he’d just let Eddie sleep, as he’s usually only the asshole waking everyone up when it’s the whole gang. He doesn’t mind spending a few hours by himself in the morning. In fact, he enjoys the opportunity to try to fall back asleep (even though he never does).

But with a sudden impulse, he lays a palm on Eddie’s ribcage and pushes himself up onto his elbows, then shakes the boy.

“Eddie.”

A muffled, “Mmph?”

“Eds, wake up.”

The boy drags a pillow over his ears for all of two seconds before Richie tickles his stomach. Then he crankily sits up and lets out a gruff, “What?”

Richie grins. “The sunrise, Eds! Look, it’s so pretty, you have to believe me.”

Eddie responds by laying his cheek on Richie’s shoulder blade, slumping forward with his eyes still closed. “You do know,” he breathes, “that if the sun is just rising, it’s like, six a.m.?”

“Hmm, 5:49, but close enough, I suppose.”

The most huffy breath that Eddie can manage at this hour tickles the hairs on the back of Richie’s neck. “Did you know that people who don’t sleep enough die a lot younger? There are serious health consequences.” It doesn’t come out in his usual fiery, punctuated tone; it’s soft and filled with a yawn and he’s pretty sure Eddie might fall back asleep just like that. “You can’t die early on me, Richie. And I don’t want to. Go back to sleep.” He peeks one eye open at the window, squinting at the glow of the sun. “It is pretty, though.” With that, he falls back against the pillow and curls into a ball against the wall.

And Richie’s pretty damn sure in that moment that he’s, like, in love

And, sure, that’s terrifying.

He has no one to talk to about it and nothing could convince him it’s normal, so he shrugs it off and pretends it isn’t there.

Cause that’s a good way to cope, right?

It doesn’t matter that Eddie is so easily comfortable with him—he’s a low-pressure person, is all. And no one had called out the way pet names rolled off Richie’s tongue so easily, because that was just a part of his joke. Normal. Easy.

Until it wasn’t

You see, there’s this bitch Pennywise. This idiot clown terrorizes his friends, kills people, haunts their nights and days, and fucks with their minds. Tries to turn them against each other. And they can’t even throw a jest back! It’s a sick system.

Well, anyway, the losers end up in some crickety, wooden, falling-apart-at-the-seams murder house on Neibolt, because Bill wants to find his brother and none of them are willing to abandon him. Instead, Richie gets to see himself dead, face off with a monstrous fucking clown, and hear heart-wrenching screams from Eddie that he can’t even help, because he can’t get out.

When he does, he reunites with Stan and Bill, using the few seconds he has to catch his breath.

Just as quickly, he loses it.

In front of him lies Eddie, arm twisted at the ugliest, most heinous angle, and not only is he probably in pain and freaking out about the arm, but a 7-foot tall clown is sauntering towards him with a stupid swaggering gait, like it knows that they can’t do anything to save Eddie.

Eddie.

The boy cowers against dust and fallen wood that must be itching to give him splinters; tears streak down his dirty face and his chest rises and falls rapidly, as Pennywise taunts him. Fucking horses around, making stupid noises and joking while Eddie falls apart, and Richie doesn’t know how to save him, even after everything Eddie’s done for him. Richie is vaguely aware of Stan grasping his shoulder, trying to ground him, and he silently thanks him as he glances around for fucking anything to use as a weapon, because he certainly can’t jump into this blindly--

Then Beverly busts into the room and stabs the bitch in the head, and Richie can’t think but his feet are moving and he lands in front of Eddie in the few seconds’ time he has to play catch-up. He reminds himself to remind Bev of just how much he loves her later.

For now, though, his focus is Eddie. His ears are ringing and he’s noted the commotion going on behind him, he even realizes that Bill ends up at his side, but his gaze is right on his Eds, grasping at his face, trying to do anything to help him.

“Eds. No, no, no! Look at me! It’s okay. Please be okay.” He steadies his voice and tries really hard not to think about how much he sucks as a caretaker, how he has no fucking clue what to do, but he’s scared and he desperately just wants to take Eddie from the room and keep him safe, forever and ever.

Terror-filled eyes find him as the clown continues toward the three of them, flexing horrendous claws; Richie kneels in front of Eddie and Bill’s at his back, and Richie knows Eddie acknowledges him but he’s whimpering and shaking and staring back at the clown. And Pennywise is thriving.

“Eds,” he says, louder, grabbing Eddie’s chin and forcing it in his direction. “Please just - fuck the clown, okay? Fuck everything. It’s me and you. I’ve got you.” And he’d probably be much more convincing if he weren’t shouting and clinging to Eddie’s shoulders like it means death.

But, he seems to capture the boy’s attention, as he keeps his eyes steadily on Richie and blinks a few times. “My arm!” he cries. “Fuck, I can’t fucking move. I’m gonna die. It hurts, Rich.”

“Hey, you’re not gonna die. I don’t die early on you, you don’t die early on me. That’s the deal.”

“Some deals are made to be broken.”

Eddie is just staring at him, blank eyes staring through him with a grin, a stark contrast to the screaming that was going on just moments before. A surge of panic rises in Richie’s chest, like a freezing wind knocking through his stupid little preteen body. He shakes his head in confusion.

“Eddie, shut up. It’s just your arm. You’re gonna be fine!”

A shrug. “Who’s to say?” And then he sits up, arm convulsing at his side like some dying snake, and Richie flinches and flies back into Bill’s chest. He can’t do this. He can’t help Eddie like he should, he can’t take care of him like he wants to. He’s a coward.

“Rich.” Bill is a million miles away.

Right here, right now, is that thing in Eddie’s place, body rattling like a rag doll. “They’ll find out.” Eddie’s voice is fucked up, scratchy, and his eyes are all wrong; the way he’s staring at him is fucking uncanny. “Get too touchy, Rich, and you know what’ll happen.”

“Stop, please, fucking stop!”

“Richie!” Bill is finally right there, shaking both of his shoulders from behind. “S-stop. You’re f-f-fine. It’s just fucking with your head.”

It takes a few deep breaths, but Richie turns to him and says a quick, ‘Thanks,’ before turning back to real-Eddie, who is now dry-heaving and wailing at the sight of his arm.

Eddie’s chest thrusts forward and back rapidly, and he keeps trying to back further from the bedlam in front of them. His face contorts into an absolutely heart-wrenching cry, and as he looks at Richie, gripping his hand with an iron fist, Richie’s heart splits in two. It’s hard, it’s way too hard not to say I love you, after all that. And it’s hard not to run.

“I don’t wanna die - ”

Richie crawls closer to cradle Eddie’s head. “Eddie, if you die I’ll kill you.” He wants to go home, he wants to cry, he wants to sleep for about three days and pretend this never happened. But he can’t. He has to be here for Eddie, as much as he wants to flee right now. “You’re not going to, you know that? I still owe you ice cream. And I’m gonna get you inside the arcade—“

“Fuck the arcade!”

Somehow, in all of the fuckery going on, Richie laughs. “That’s the spirit!” Eddie, in a scramble to back away from the startle of Pennywise running away, shifts into Richie’s lap. “Okay, Eddie, breathe.” Richie gulps down a breath himself. “I’m gonna snap your arm back into place.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, completely on fire, spitting poison at Richie. “Rich! Do not fucking touch me!”

Richie winces at the words but he hears Bev screaming, “Richie, his arm!” and uses the moment of yelling to just do it, to get Eddie’s arm back to a relatively normal shape, and then he’s screaming and it’s like he wants Richie to cry in front of everyone.

“Okay okay okay, it’s done. No more.” Richie, awkward and lost at what to do, brushes back sweaty hair from Eddie’s forehead, because he’s pretty sure the boy would hate how sticky everything had gotten, and if he could help even one thing, well, it’s something.

He wishes he could help carry Eddie home, sit with him in the hospital, anything to cheer him up.

But he doesn’t get the chance. Mrs. K is outside and snatches Eddie from the losers in the flash of an eye, talking like they broke his fucking arm or something.

That’s when it all goes downhill

Richie storms away from his stupid feud with Bill, the fucking dumbass who punched him in the face because he said he didn’t want a clown to kill him and his friends. He thinks it’s the most reasonable thing he’s ever said, objectively, but whatever. He doesn’t want to lose his friends. But in that moment, he doesn’t see many other options.

When he trudges back home after his third day alone at the arcade, following newly-formed muscle memory to avoid his uncle (close the door slowly, shift weight and run upstairs, wait at least twenty minutes to go back down for food in case he stirs), he notices another car. Immediately, Richie throws open the doors, calling out, “Mom!” and finds her in the kitchen, with his uncle.

“Hey sweetie, I just got home—“ she startles at the sight of him.

“Jeez, that bad?” he jokes, running a hand through his hair. “Just remember, mom, half of this is ‘cause of you.”

She approaches him quickly, summer blazer flowing behind her from the speed, and crouches down just slightly to be at eye-level. “Richie, honey, what did you do to your lip?” she asks. He doesn’t realize right away, but he tilts his head into her touch, and she strokes his cheek gently.

Richie had forgotten about the whole ordeal—his friends almost dying at the hands of a killer clown was pretty damn distracting from his low-life uncle—but now, he sets a spitting glare on the man leaning back and manspreading at their kitchen table.

“Uncle Alan had a few kind words to say over dinner the other night.”

Her tender touch to his face is lost when she whips around to face his uncle, and Richie feels like a little kid again, standing behind his mom and clutching at her coat while she takes care of everything.

“You hit him?” she says, her voice threatening in a low mumble, teeth clenched together. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You touched my kid?” She holds back a hand as though to shield Richie as she slams her other fist on the table.

“How do you know it wasn’t one of his faggy friends? Or maybe some other kid with common fucking sense?”

She leans down and takes him by the front of his shirt. “Don’t you dare, Alan. What the fuck were you thinking?”

Uncle Alan yells back in her face, spit flying, and Richie would jump forward to defend her if she weren’t holding him back so protectively (with one hand!). “Listen, Maggie, if he’s gonna act like that, I’m just preparing him for the real world.”

“You absolute shit! You don’t get to make that decision!” Richie has never, ever seen his mother so angry. “You battered a twelve year old boy! What, do you feel really big now, you pathetic piece of shit? Get the fuck out of my house!” At this point, she’s shaken him and thrown him back against the chair so he falls, catching himself just in time as it cascades to the ground.

“Fuck you, Maggie!”

She follows him down the hall.

“Fuck you!” Richie calls out at his retreating back, before his mother screams about pressing charges and slams the door behind him.

Richie’s mom rushes back into the kitchen to face him. She’s red in the face, eyes on fire, but she softens at the sight of him.

“Richie, sweetheart, I’m sorry we left you.” She cradles his face again. “Hey.” She holds him with both hands. “Listen. If anyone ever hurts you, you call me. If anyone ever so much as threatens you, Rich - ”

Richie, choked up, interjects, “I didn’t know the number, mom. I don’t know where the little paper you wrote it on is, I’m sorry—“

“It’s okay.” She looks at him for a few more moments, then swaddles him up in a big, mama bear hug. “I love you, kid. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too.”

For a few minutes, she just holds him, stroking his back while silent tears fall down his face and onto the chest of her shirt. She doesn’t seem to mind

It’s late. Richie doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s on top of the world.

He ends up at Eddie’s house, even though he knows they’re not talking and Eddie’s mom might kill him on sight, he has to see him. Mrs. K can go fuck herself.

Outside the boy’s bedroom window, he raps quietly with his knuckles, just about buzzing with a high, high feeling toward life. He can see Eddie lying in bed, struggling to prop up a book to read, lamplight cascading onto his skin - that is, until he hears Richie, and flies toward the window with a crazed look.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, brows knitting together. “My mom will kill you if she hears you.”

That doesn’t matter so much to him at that moment. “Eddie!” He swings his legs over the banister and jumps into the room, adrenaline and something like love pushing him to lift Eddie to his chest and spin. “Eds, my mom came home early and she kicked that motherfucker out of my house!”

Eddie’s eyes are crazed from the spinning and he clings to Richie’s shoulder with his good hand; and he grins, a giggle caught in his lips. “That’s great, Richie. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck him! And god Eddie, she - she protected me, and we just spent hours together, watching movies and making dinner like old times, and it was amazing, and - god, I know I sound like a dork, but I - ”

He pauses, mostly because he’s out of breath from machine-gunning a paragraph out of nowhere; but also because in his flustered state he didn’t register the sweet-cheeked smile that Eddie is currently melting him with.

But when he does, Richie thinks to himself: sure, blue eyes are great; they can be compared to the sky or the ocean or whatever other cheesy nature bit all goddamn day. But Eddie’s eyes - hell, he doesn’t care if he sounds like a cornball - they’re fucking amazing. They usurp all of that bullshit. He’s used to them when they’re blown wide in surprise, or holding him in a steely glare for some dumb joke, and he loves them then; but right now he catches a kind of tenderness hidden in the dark. Something that envelops him in warmth and pinks his cheeks.

Eddie takes the opportunity to pipe up. “Richie,” he says, “I’m really happy for you.”

He means it. Richie knows he means it, because for the last several days, he’s heard Eddie mumbling to himself somewhat privately about ‘that piece of shit,’ and right now he’s clutching Richie’s sleeve and smiling without a trace of mockery.

And he’s perfect.

His tousled hair that’s rustled from what looks to have been a constant stream of fingers, stressed over the book or his mom or god-knows-what; the oversized t-shirt he’s drowning in and short shorts and perfectly matched socks; and those shining eyes and friendly smile and soft fucking hands that hold all the electricity of Richie’s excitement - all perfect.

And Richie, Richie could just kiss him.

He doesn’t.

Mrs. K knocks at the door.

“Eddie bear, it’s time for your nighttime oils!”

Richie cracks a wise-ass smile. “Eddie bear, if I’d known you needed nighttime oils, well, I would have come prepared.”

“Get the fuck out,” Eddie says. The laughter catching on his lips tells another story.

Richie throws an utterly charming wink in his direction and crouches in the window, preparing to jump out and make his escape.

“Wait!” Eddie grabs the back of Richie’s t-shirt. “It’s cool that you stopped by. It’s - it’s been lonely in this hellhole. I might have gone insane if I thought you guys forgot about me.”

“Aw, I’d never forget you, cutie.” Richie, stomach twisting and turning, supports himself with his forearm on the outside of the window. “And, anyway, I gotta practice my Romeo somewhere, right?”

Eddie lets out a characteristic huff. “Whatever.”

It’s quiet, save for the distant tweeting crickets, and the scent wafting through the nighttime is intoxicating, and for the following moments the world reminds them to just breathe.

“You’re gonna miss curfew, Rich,” Eddie mumbles, leaning out the window on his elbows. And Richie hears it: you’re alone, you know what could happen. Stay safe.

“I’m not afraid, Eds.” He means it. Richie can’t draw up what fear even feels like right then. With a flick of an eyebrow, he nods toward the door. “Mother is waiting.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I’ll see you, Tozier.”

Richie, without any reservations (until he thinks back on it later), reaches out as though to pinch Eddie’s cheek, but instead, runs his thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone. “See ya, Eds.” He smiles. “I’m gonna get you out of here someday.”

Eddie shakes his head as Richie takes his hand away from Eddie’s newly red cheeks and makes his way back to the ground, muttering, “My hero.”

And Richie looks back with a grin at the silhouette of the dork in the window, saluting before taking off

It sucks when Beverly leaves.

It’s an early morning, red and orange hues breaking across the skyline like a cracked egg, and Richie, Stan, and Ben all gather around to watch her disappear off to the nearest airport, and then disappear from them forever. Though it’s not nearly as mopey and depressing as it could have been, it’s hard to watch her go; a warm energy follows her as she hugs them all goodbye, looking at them with her all-knowing, crooked little smile, rolling her eyes but expressing more love than any of them had ever known, and Richie knows she means every word of loving and missing that she says. And he knows he’ll miss her more than anything.

He does. Not much helps with the pain of missing someone, but as the days go by, pieces of her slowly slip from his mind, until finally she’s all gone

New Years offers promises of ‘new me’s and resolutions and maybe some kind of peace. And considering everything, it’s the saving grace Richie thinks he needs.

A chance to forget his uncle, the murderous clown that haunts his dreams, and his personal revelation that he loves Eddie Kaspbrak.

It didn’t ruin their friendship by any means, just made his cheeks flush and heart throb and his rebuttals come back stutter-y when Eddie merely smiled at him. It was stupid textbook puppy love. He never thought he’d fall for that.

And, he’s not gay. He can’t be, or he’ll have to pay the price.

It's just that Eddie is his best friend. They’re all best friends, but Eddie never really stopped engaging with his exhausting jokes like the others, when it was finally too much. Eddie always bickered back, he took the bait and bit back. Eddie took him home when he got hurt and cared for him and then went right back to fighting.

He loves Eddie the way he should love someone like Bev.

But it’s nothing.

The night is cutting, crisp with a fresh wintery bitterness, biting at Richie’s nose until it’s practically bleeding. To be fair, he’d opted to only wear one of his lighter jackets and some gloves, so it’s his own fault that his scalp is freezing over and he’s shaking on his way to the loser’s little spot in the meadow.

At least his friends are smart.

Stan sports a matching tartan hat and scarf, bundled up around his face so only the pinkish tip of his nose is poking out; Bill has a nice puffy coat and a hat with a bauble rested atop his head; Ben’s ushanka hat is wrapped tightly under his chin, and he waves at Richie with mittens keeping his hands warm; Mike is representing a lot of fleece, and he grins at Richie, shaking his head when he sees his lack of winter clothes; and then there’s Eddie, wearing a coat that has to be at least an extra large, and a knitted cap, bundled up so only his fussy eyes and nose are squinting out at Richie.

In Richie’s defense, he was running late, and he had sprouted a little bit in the last few months, so his previously comfortable winter coat was now tight and painful in the shoulders and chest. This jacket was his best option in the 30-second long window he had to get dressed and run out the door to attempt to be on time.

Stan levels a look at him, thoroughly appreciating his idiocy, and obviously not pitying his shaking form more than a quick flash of sympathy in his eyes; he cares, but Richie obviously brought this upon himself. The ensuing cold would be his own fault, and he’d call Stan to complain, just to grin quietly as the boy went on the calmest rant about how stupid he is and then hang up. It’s just how they worked.

Richie wonders if he’d tell a potential partner that they should have brought a coat to a date if they complained of the temperature. It’s beside the point, but amusing.

“C’mon man, you didn’t think about a scarf at least?” Mike says as a greeting, laughing a little bit as he removes his own and wraps it messily around Richie’s neck. In that moment, Richie would give up his life for this kid. The body heat/fleece combo immediately brings him back from the brink of a nosebleed.

“Richie doesn’t think, period.” Stan sticks his hands in his pockets and stares at him, ghosts of amusement playing on his cheeks.

Richie flashes his teeth in a big ol’ grin. “That’s pretty accurate, actually, I just wanted to be with you guys on time so badly, you know.”

Bill lets out a small, unenthused, “Aww.”

Richie simply chuckles and tries to wrap his fingers in Mike’s scarf to help with the inevitable hypothermia. Eddie winds up next to him in their gathering, sucking in a big breath through his nostrils and huffing out shortly.

He bumps Eddie’s arm with his elbow and says, “What’s up with you, Eds?”

Eddie nearly topples over from the size of the coat weighing him down, and he curses under his breath before standing back up and glaring at Richie. “You really didn’t wear a bigger coat, dumbass?”

“As you can see, no,” Richie chuckles.

Eddie presses his tongue into his cheek. “Well, you can share mine. It’s more than big enough.”

Oh.

Right, sharing a coat. That’s fine. No pressure or anything.

Richie aims for a cool response, some funny voice or smooth and subtle, and lands on, “Yeah, cool. Thanks.”

So, they share. And it’s pretty great.

Eddie unzips it and pulls Richie in, and they collaborate to pull it up and then Richie is pressed up against Eddie’s side, in public, already sweating even though he’s still cold because he doesn’t know if he can handle this.

Fortunately, they’re hidden by the dark, so maybe the boy or their friends won’t notice his red cheeks (or they’ll chalk it up to the cold) and the extra focus he has to place on acting normal. Because Eddie smells nicer than most boys their age, and he’s got a heart too big for his body, and Richie’s sure that Eddie loves him back in at least some way. It’s not just anyone that would get to be this close, squeezed into a coat with him.

Richie feels sick.

But the fireworks are starting, and they might be sparse and lackluster in the hell that is Derry, but each loser looks to the sky with love, with appreciation, in awe of the fact that something beautiful can apparently come from hell.

Barely, just barely, Eddie’s head falls against Richie’s shoulder as they gaze up into the inky black sky illuminated by cakes of fireworks, and he whispers, “Wow,” under his breath right next to Richie’s ear, and now Richie’s contemplating between the two possible causes of his death: he combusts, or he stops breathing - to be determined.

Richie begs the universe for advice in the ultimate predicament. And to his great relief, memories seep back into his brain; those of freckled cheeks, teeth balancing a cig as a mouth talks, and bundles of ginger curls bouncing as her head turns in his direction.

“Bev would love this.”

Riche catches the way Ben looks over at him pretty much immediately - at them, sharing body heat in Eddie’s coat - and then how the boy stares at the ground and mumbles a soft, “Yeah.” He looks back at Richie, holds his eye contact for a sweet, lingering moment, then gazes back at the sky, hopefully thinking of love as much as Richie is.

Bill, Mike, and Stan all follow, tearing their eyes away briefly to make quick eye contact with each other, and then Richie, and Eddie even shifts to look up at him, and they all smile wistfully as though the girl is there with them, snarky remarks and toothy smiles keeping them all afloat. Richie feels like he’s going to break open and cry enough to fill the whole universe, so he sniffles and looks back up at the sky, breaking the moment of magic.

But it remains with them.

It remains as they share this together, as they enter the new year together, promising hope for a happier future as long as they stick with each other.

And it remains as Eddie Kaspbrak takes his hand under the coat and murmurs, “Happy new year, Richie.”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #fanfiction #fluff #angst #sharing a bed #pining #new years #summer #mine #gosh i hope this isnt too dorky sfhdgjhsdfg

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bonesgadh · 4 years

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I know someone`s probably gonna come for me,but I`m gonna say it anyway. Hot take: Gigi was lowkey favoured. Jaida should have won the Balls Eleganza. Those looks? *chef`s kiss* Jaida had 3 strong looks compared to Gigi`s two alright looks and one meh look. And there was more than one occasion where she should have been bottom instead of safe or safe instead of high.

It’s okay, my inbox is open for hot takes as long as they don’t involve any hate towards the queens or myself :)

So I found it a bit difficult to answer this anon because, as I’ve stated before, I’m a Gigi fan, which makes it harder for me to be objective. That said, I’m gonna try my best to justify as objectively as possible why I don’t believe she was favored.

Let’s go through every challenge, shall we?

The rap: come on, her and Widow were the best ones and there’s not much to argue. Even the other girls were confused af when they thought they were going to be in the bottom.

World’s Worst: if you ask me the Del Rio Trio was the best team, and either Heidi or Jackie should have won it. Gigi did a very good job as well, so she deserved being safe.

The ball: this one was a close call between Gigi and Jaida, I agree. In my humble opinion, the outfit that served as a tie-breaker was the second one. Gigi’s look was a bitchy wife, Jaida’s look was more “pageanty”. Also I share Ross’ (I think it was him?) opinion that each one of Gigi’s looks were better than the previous one. I liked both Jaida and Gigi’s three looks so I wouldn’t have minded with any of them winning.

Gay’s Anatomy: every single queen did good, the ones who landed in the bottom group were there because of small details.

Snatch Game: if Ru is not buying your SG choice, gives you a warning and you fuck up, you go home; if you do well, he rewards you with a win. Idgaf if Crappy Pie was funny as Katharine Hepburn because I couldn’t stand her Parkinson’s “jokes”, they were distasteful as fuck. Jackie was very funny but Gigi had me on the floor and Ru rewarded her for the risk she took.

Madonna Rusical: listen, I know this one is still being debated over because Jan is a better singer and dancer, but the rusical is also about embodying the celebrity they are paying homage to (e.g. the Cher rusical). Gigi completely chanalized Madonna in the Papa Don’t Preach video and her transformation was so good it was scary.

The commercial: this was a very bad week for her but Jan, Widow and Crappy Pie’s commercial were far worse. Jan tried too much, Widow didn’t get a single laugh and Crappy’s was disappointing for the judges.

The debate: definitely her worst week. When a queen has been doing well in the competition or Ru senses she still has something to prove, he gives them a “get out of jail for free” card, and she has done this multiple times. The reason why I believe Gigi wasn’t in the bottom was because at least she tried to get a joke here and there by chanalizing the robot persona, while Widow did the exact same thing Ru warned her not to do (she took it way too serious) and Jackie kept mentioning Canada even though Jeff asked her to stop. Again, she was lucky the other two did slightly worse than her.

The makeover: this was the definition of a safe performance, it was simple but effective and Gigi did enough to be safe but she wasn’t as good as the girls at the top.

The one-queen show: could it have been funnier? Yes, but it wasn’t boring or unfunny. She had a very good concept which unfortunately she was unable to fully exploit. She was right in the middle between Crystal’s ridiculous exhibition & Jackie’s heartfelt monologue and Heidi & Jaida’s cringe fest. She didn’t deserve to be in the bottom at all.

The medley: okay, this one I was confused as to why Ru gave her the win because the final challenge is not a challenge queens usually win. I think Ru felt the need to award it this season because, for years, fans have criticised her for not doing it—especially last year after Yvie’s performance in Queens Everywhere—as it is still a challenge.

TL;DR What I think is, whenever Gigi didn’t do well in a challenge, she was very lucky there were always two queens who did worse than her. I don’t think she was favored in any challenge although you can argue her final win was more of a prize for doing well in the competition.

I hope I didn’t bore you with my long-ass answer, anon :)

#I promise I tried to be as objective as possible #gigi goode #anon

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 4 years

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Transformers G1 review!:

This was a LONG awaited review, given how long this took me to watch the damn thing. Let's get some pros, some cons, and my final thoughts! (Warning, may contain spoilers and profanity)

[[MORE]]

Pros!:

Ironhide.

The unique plots of each episode, although odd a lot of the time, was unique, and even though I wasn't personally a fan of it sometimes, something must be said for the creativity.

The voice acting was good for the most part! There was an occasional odd voice that bothered me, but none of them were particularly boring or annoying (minus that one episode where everyone sort of sang their dialogue. That was annoying).

There were SO many unintentionally funny moments. Soundwave running in a gay panic? The one liners being thrown around? I definitely laughed a lot of the times in this show.

Grimlock.

Titty lights.

Build a bitch™️.

So many unintentionally gay moments. Or maybe they were intentional-either way no one is fucking straight.

Seasons 1-2 were SUPER good! There was an explanation and a purpose with introducing more bots (more or less), before seasons 3-4 got WAY too carried away with it, falling into the gimicky category.

That one episode were all the decepticons were drunk and fucking useless.

The organic/robot ships were done in a very cute way and I support them.

The one time Rumble was just COVERED in bird shit.

When the bot's soap opera was interrupted and they groaned like children.

KREMZEEK!!!

Grimlock being a dapper dino.

Wreckgar and all the junkions.

Optimus desperately tries to fit in with his children and we support his endeavors.

Blaster was one of the most characters to listen to? He's the misunderstood music kid of the family. Dad HATES his music but he loves his boy.

Dad pats™️.

The little 'after episode segments'? Where telatraan 2 gave us a little bit of info of random bots? That was a nice detail.

Decepticon day!

Rumble and Frenzy were the HIGHLIGHTS of my life.

Shockwave being on a 4 billion year work shift, is just so fucking funny to me.

Brawn didn't give a FUCK. Why would he when you could just yeet your problems away?

The number of times Megatron and Optimus were forced to work together and Megatron just wanting none of it.

Cyclonus. That is all.

Insecticons.

Octane's bi ass.

The therapy episode hit me on levels i cant explain.

Kup.

The autobot's resting place. Oof that killed me and it killed me good.

Cons!:

The animation errors were prevalent in literally every episode, and sometimes they were VERY distracting.

Seasons 3-4 were RIDICULOUSLY gimmick. A huge case of the armada affect (aka appealing to a 'cool' factor, like upgrades or combining in order to sell more toys) and I could go without it.

Galvatron can kiss my ass.

While I respect the plot they brought to the show, I HATED the face fuckers (aka the Quintissons. Fuck you if you can spell that shit). They became more annoying rather than an actual threat as the seasons dwindled.

The poor introduction of characters hurt me.

They had so many wasted opportunities. Octane and Nightbird were never heard from again and that seriously disappointed me.

Spike.

A LOT of filler episodes. Towards the end of s3, there was a constant theme of 'fuck the oppressors', and while that's a good plot, it was really shoved in our faces to the point of exhaustion. At least the constant energy demand in the first two seasons made SENSE.

There were too many fucking episodes in s2. Not that I hated a lot of content, it just seemed like a chore to get through after a while.

The forced heterosexuality of Fairborne. God I hated that.

SO many inconsistencies, be it animation, plot, or even colors of characters. As someone who loves consistency, this was a huge con for me.

Huffer's bitch ass.

In conclusion!!:

While this show had its faults, It really WAS good. It was funny, it was charming, and it captures the best of the 80's. I loved this show, and I love how its sparked such love in the transformers community. I can complain and critique all day, but ultimately, its a must watch, so,

I vote this a solid 8/10!

And i rate all my followers who went through this journey with me, a 10/10!

#reviews #transformers #G1

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writteninsunshine · 2 years

Text

It’s Never A Dream - One-Sided Blitzo/Fizzarolli, Blitzo & Loona - SFWish

Title: It’s Never A Dream

Author: Keith

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Setting: Blitzo and Loona’s Apartment

Pairing: Blitzo & Fizzarolli, Blitzo & Loona

Characters: Blitzo, Fizzarolli, Loona

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Family

Rating: T

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 667

Type Of Work: One-Shot

Status: Complete

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Dubcon Kisses, Unwanted Kisses, One-Sided Blitzo/Fizzarolli, Unrequited Love, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, More Comfort Than I Thought Would Happen, Stolas Mention, A/B/O Dynamics, Omegaverse

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

Summary: Blitzo never stood a chance whenever he had dreams about his past.

AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a writing Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Tumblr/Twitter!

Welp, my husband found me a prompt, and here we are! I really wanted to write something for this, and I was hit with the urge so I went ahead and did it. I managed to sit down and do this in one sitting, and I’m proud of getting it all ready pretty quickly. I have other fics to finish/edit, but I’m being a little bit slow on them. I hope y’all are looking forward to it! I’m so surprised that I’m getting any interaction at all, I’m used to writing for small ships/fandoms.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Prepare for some pain, I think.

Helluva Boss Fic Masterlist

It’s Never A Dream

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It didn’t even occur to him that anything was wrong here, that things weren’t what they were really meant to be.

Basking in the glory that was a teenaged Fizzarolli, happy and bouncy and playful, Blitzo was happy to laugh and smile with him. Even if f he didn’t recognize their surroundings, it didn’t matter, because they were together again, they were close, they didn’t have the vitriolic poison between them.

They walked the streets of some old town that hadn’t updated itself for the century, hand in hand as Fizz told him jokes that even he thought were corny. A giggle left the other Alpha, who grinned at him in a way that really showed off that mouth that he was so in love with. Something about it was so perfect, so ripe with a feeling deep within Blitzo’s gut that he couldn’t help himself.

He stopped them, tugging Fizzarolli back by his wrist, then his arm as he pulled him in for a hug. It quickly turned desperate, and he gripped the other clown in a frenzied embrace, trying to stop what he knew was inevitable, now. There was no denying it anymore.

“Blitzo…? You uh, you okay?” Fizzarolli sounded so genuinely confused, but Blitzo didn’t have any words, no answer coming to mind. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, Blitzo knew less than Fizzarolli did, at this point. He lurched forward suddenly, crashing their lips together without a single thought in his head other than need.

What he hadn’t quite expected was to suddenly be shoved back hard to the ground, Fizz wiping at his mouth with a cold glare. Abruptly, the landscape swirled and distorted around them, and Blitzo seemed to age like he was in a high school to now montage, sitting there on his ass with his knees tented and spread, arms behind him. His tail snapped as Fizzarolli changed with him, becoming the slutty (but not hot!), half-robotic sellout he was, now.

“What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?” Fizzarolli laughed cruelly, a sneer on his lips as he mocked his ex-best friend, “Everyone left you. Even the people who loved you couldn’t wait to get away from you. Can you not see how you’re the problem?”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know shit!” But Blitz’s voice quivered and Fizz seemed to take that as an admittance of defeat.

“Ah, so you do know that you’re a failure! You hurt everyone in your life when they don’t compare to your picture-perfect expectations!” The other imp laughed again, deep and guttural as his voice warped into some disfigured, too breathy bubbly of words, like talking underwater, “Nobody loves you, nobody will ever love you because you can’t stand being confi–”

—

Shooting up on the couch, Blitzo let out a loud, broken shriek only for it to turn to a groan of pain when his head connected with Loona’s with a loud crack.

“Satan’s tits, Blitz!” Loona howled, reeling back with her hand on her snout, the eye closest to the injury closed tightly. Blitz was busy rubbing his own forehead, glancing up at her with tears still in his eyes, “What the fuck!?”

“...S-Sorry, Loony.” He murmured, voice quiet and cracking in the middle. The Hellhound’s tail tucked a little, her ears tipped back, and she shook her head.

“You were crying in your sleep again.” She offered softly, almost somber, and he hated it. He hated that she saw him like this, he hated that he was a goddamn mess lately, and he hated that he wanted to lash out, to make her leave. He didn’t want to prove that nightmare bastard right.

Nobody will ever love you because you can’t stand being what? Confident? Configured? Confi-gruent? He couldn’t put his finger on the word that he must have meant, and he hated that he’d cut it off there.

Loona sighed when he didn’t respond, setting a bottle of water and a box of tissues on the floor next to the couch. Pulling the blanket she’d brought out of his room off the back of the couch, she moved to tuck the imp into ‘bed,’ hoping to help soothe him. Much as she didn’t like his overwhelming attention most times, she did care for him.

“Do you want to watch TV or something?” She asked, trying on her usual voice. Blitz, thoroughly swaddled into the soft blanket off of his bed, just nodded wordlessly, scooting into a sitting position with his knees up. He looked rather like an odd caterpillar scooching around like that, and she smirked as she grabbed the remote and turned on some mind-numbing gossip show.

She had to change the channel when something about Stolas came on and he flinched so hard she felt it beside her. Scooting over again and leaning into her, Blitz stopped her on a channel with old kids’ shows on it. Closing his eyes as he listened to the basic, easy puzzles on screen, he felt vaguely safe hiding in a show he watched as a kid, even if more memories of Fizzarolli filled his mind. It didn’t take long for him to fall back asleep, and she was glad to hold him through some easier dreams.

Despite this, when he woke up, he was resolute. He wouldn’t push Loona away, he needed her, and he hoped that she would need him, too.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: My husband saw this prompt and sent it to me, and I absolutely had to do something with it with these two. I couldn’t help myself, I hope you guys enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun writing this.

Prompt: “Everyone left you. Even the people who loved you couldn’t wait to get away from you. Can you not see how you’re the problem?”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know shit.” - From @prompts-in-a-barrel

#Helluva Boss Fanfic #Helluva Boss Fanfiction #Helluva Boss Blitzo #Helluva Boss Loona #Helluva Boss Fizzarolli #cw dubcon #cw dubcon kisses #cw nightmares #cw omegaverse #cw a/b/o

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stormsbourne · 5 years

Text

the homestuck epilogue, summarized by me

edited after: I’m leaving this here for my own reference but there’s a decent amount of stuff I got wrong in these. I’ve tried to correct most of it. still please don’t bother with these if, for some reason, you’re still free of this dark knowledge in the post hell 2020 timeline

there’s doubtless parts of both sides (which are actually only one side, big spoilers there) that I’m going to forget so I apologize in advance for that but I read the entire thing very quickly and some parts are more memorable than others. this is also only slightly polished up from when I posted it on discord, which I did in a tremendous hurry. so pardon the grammar

please be wary that I literally CANNOT tag this with everything there are warnings for so if you’re not sure, check the actual epilogue tag list, because literally all of it is mentioned in some capacity.

letsa go

LET’S START WITH CANDY.

john decides not to go. immediately, things start going strangely well for literally everyone, who all get exactly what he thinks they want (or what SOMEONE thinks they want, more on that later. I think it's still john doing the influencing.) davejadekat hook up. john and roxy get married. etc. gamzee gets “redeemed” by which I mean john rescues him at calliope’s request and he goes around saying he’s good now. but as always there's trouble in paradise and the things that seem to be "good endings" end up being bad. jane becomes president of earth but this leads her to become a fascist dictator who may possibly be responsible for the future genocide of trollkind (this shit is full fascist racism shit. “troll camps” are a thing.). dave and karkat are in love with each other and jade getting in with them has actually just made it harder for them to be honest with one another. gamzee basically serves no purpose except to be annoying and gross.

at some point literally all the trolls start getting resurrected because of timeline shenanigans where the black hole is spitting out their ghosts onto earth c (which is actually inside of the black hole in paradox space somehow. don’t think too hard about it). rose and kanaya adopt a grub they name vriska to honor her sacrifice and also because it looks like vriska. john and roxy have a kid named harry anderson. jane basically rapes jake (he's drunk and also the lollipop is invovled) and conveniently gets pregnant with a kid they later name tavros. AS TIME GOES ON, karkat breaks up from djk because he's sick of it and then goes on to lead a troll rebellion against jane. jane starts cucking jake with gamzee. roxy and john break up because john is depressed and also because john is way more interested in texting terezi than in his real-life spouse. dirk kills himself for reasons that have more to do witht the construct of the meat timeline than the candy one.

all of this is slightly out of order but I’m trying to be succinct so when things get crazy I can keep the relevant details close together.

QUICK MEAT DETOUR (MEATOUR).

john decides to go. he makes a quick stop to grab the ring of life from aranea, then scoops up the other game over kids, who head off to face caliborn. the masterpiece goes down as you would expect it to with the beta kids getting stuck in the juju. the betas are later released from the juju by vriska but it doesn't actually kill english (dave does with his sword, then gets decapitated), and john gets nailed hard in the chest by caliborn's gold tooth, which begins to poison and kill him. davepeta appears for like two seconds and then vanishes into the black hole. jade's corpse is the only one of the kids that isn't fucking vaporized but it gets sucked into the black hole. we'll come back to this later. john runs into meenah, who steals the life ring and peaces out into the black hole. then he runs into terezi in the remains of paradox space and the two of them fuck.

IN THE MEANTIME, on earth, karkat mounts an opposition run to jane's presidency, at dave's urging. dave and karkat are explicitly not together but also explicitly dancing around how they both know they love each other; jade keeps trying to start a threesome and both of them are like "UHHHHHH." roxy and calliope are together. jake and dirk have a stupid wrestle rap tv show but it is iterated on over and over again that dirk thinks jake is a useless idiot who he can't treat well and who deserves nothing and whom he needs to babysit and control so cool I guess. dirk goes to talk to rose and it becomes clear both of them are experiencing the same thing with their expansion of consciousness giving them awareness of other timelines and vague control over them (”ascending”) AT WHICH POINT it becomes clear that dirk is actually the narrator+controller of the entire meat timeline. the narration turns orange and dirk’s character voice (or what the epilogue says his character voice is) begins to leak into how it’s written.

BACK TO CANDY FOR A SECOND.

jade's corpse from the meat timeline crashes down into the candy earth c through a ghost black hole portal. nobody knows what the sweet christ is happening, but roxy proposes having another funeral since the kids only see one another at funerals (the last one being dirk’s) and aren't very close. they have the funeral but in the middle of it, jade sits up and has been possessed by the spirit of red calliope, who claims she is protecting this version of the planet and is keeping watch out for a bad actor who could destroy everything.

kid vriska is horrible to kid tavros. john and terezi talk a lot and it's routinely implied that john cares more about her than about roxy, and that john is the only person she talks to. jake eventually walks out on jane with their kid but only after she’s treated him horrendously and continued to cuck him with gamzee. meenah also comes down through a hole in the sky, where she meets karkat and they hook up romantically. dave and jade get married but it’s implied to be a very troubled marriage. kid vriska begins banging harry anderson once they are teens. also once they are teens, ACTUAL (alive) vriska comes crashing down onto the planet from being sucked into the black hole. she and kid vriska have some conversations about terezi, but only after vriska hatefucks gamzee. vriska sends terezi a message. we don't see how this pays off, which makes me think that more is probably coming.

dave, while trying to help karkat with the troll rebellion, comes upon actual literal barack obama, has a conversation about sexuality with him and how he’s not really into jade (here he calls himself “gay” while in the meat timeline he is very explicit about being bisexual). obama tells him that ascension to one’s ultimate self is impossible for the normal human body to withstand and helps him turn into a robot so he can handle the transformatiin and help save another timeline.

btw a war has started between jane’s fascist empire and the trolls, led by karkat, who has an eyepatch. john, having patched some things up a bit with roxy, reconciles with his son. this is basically how candy ends.

OK. LET’S GET BACK TO THE MEAT.

now that dirk's control over the narrative is firmly established he actually starts exerting some level of control over people through his narrative voice. he uses this to start making people do things he wants.

anyway jade falls into a coma at some point and when she wakes up, the spirit of red calliope is using her to "transmit" and dirk and red calliope start literally fighting over who gets to write the story. red calliope wins at first, and dirk's narration is reduced down to small font where he passive aggressively swipes at calliope. alive calliope takes one look at possessed jade and runs away almost literally screaming. oh also I forgot calliope and roxy both go by "they" at this point in time and dirk+calliope spar a bit over that as dirk also keeps calling roxy "her." fun times.

anyway while calliope is running the narrative jake agrees to endorse karkat's presidential run as dirk makes plans involving a rifle and the phrase "jake english, your ass is mine." during the rally where jake is about to endorse karkat, dirk fools calliope into thinking he's trying to shoot jake, but wheels around and hits jade instead with a tranquilizer through a window. this makes red calliope's influence go away and dirk resumes control of the narrative.

using his regained control of the narrative, dirk presses his thumb down on jake to remind jake how much he loves dirk, how he’s IN LOVE with dirk, and how "to love dirk is to obey him" and jake, obligingly, endorses jane in front of the entire crowd gathered there to watch his speech about karkat.

dave and karkat, drinking together after jane handily wins the election, hook up though dave basically has to shout dirk out of his head because he wants to do it on his own terms instead of the way dirk keeps writing it, and dirk WILL NOT LET HIM because dirk knows best. eventually dirk leaves him alone but only after dave basically forcibly chases him out (without knowing what he’s really doing, sort of like Aimless Renegade in the comic). john and terezi come back to earth, where john dies and terezi captchalogues his body. dirk (as narrative) and terezi (as herself) spar a bit until he makes an offer to her to come see him about her dead boyfriend. this is the last we see of her.

dirk then convinces kanaya (using the narrative) that he and rose are in love and he's better for rose than she is and she needs to let them go if she really loves rose. kanaya obligingly does this. dirk leaves kanaya some medicine that will wake jade up and goes to talk to jake, where he sex blackmails jake into lending him a spaceship. jake thinks he's coming along on the trip but dirk assures him this is not the case. jake breaks down literally sobbing and begging to go, dirk kisses him and tells him he'll never let jake break his heart again, and dirk leaves with rose (in a coma which dirk will resolve by putting her into a robot like dave).

jade wakes up and, with memories of red calliope's goals, shouts that dirk has to be stopped, pointing out to various people (namely kanaya) how weird they’ve been acting because he’s been subtly influencing them using the narrative as lowkey mind control. they all make plans to go find dirk though none of them can figure out where the sweet fuck john is (terezi is awol). they ask jake who, sobbing, confirms that dirk took a spaceship, and then go plan to get one of their own and follow him using red calliope's instructions.

also this is impossible to get in anywhere else but roxy is going by “he” now and dirk has a whole paragraph about how suave and manly and cool and masculine he is

WOW THAT WAS HAIRY. THAT IT?

the actual ending of each consists of the following: candyverse davebot shows up on candy earth as red calliope opens a hole presumably back out to the furthest ring (after literally eating caliborn’s body). he and aradia (she was in candy for a while now but did pretty much nothing) are like cool let's go and vault into the hole. meanwhile, meatverse dirk and robot rose draw closer to a new unnamed planet as rose does dirk's laundry. they both know the planet is destined for a new sburb session in the future.

YIKES!

yeah yikes.

WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS?

if you’re like me you should ignore it and just keep doing what you want to do. have fun. the author is dead, long live the fanfic author.

#homestuck epilogue posts #homestuck epilogues summary

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areluctantsblog · 5 years

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My first fill for the starker bingo is ready! It's for the young!Tony square. You can read it on ao3.

Today we escape

Summary: Tony and Peter's lives change forever when they are outed as gay and as a couple.

Warnings: homophobia, mentions of violence and blood

Words: 1.5k

***

"Tony!" It's his boyfriend's voice but barely recognisable. It's breaks as soon as he gets his name out and he can hear him sobbing.

Tony jumps up in the middle of robotics lab and runs out to the corridor, his chest tight with worry.

"What happened? Peter? Talk to me," he pleads.

"It's… It's…" Peter hiccups, unable to form words.

"Where are you, baby?" Tony asks, whispering.

At that Peter only cries harder. Anguished, Tony waits.

"It's Flash," Peter chokes out. He takes a few deep breaths and manages to continue. "Took my phone. Posted a picture of…" his boyfriend's voice breaks again, but Tony doesn’t need him to say anymore to figure out what happened.

"Where are you?" he asks in a firm voice.

"Home," Peter whines.

"Pack your bags. Lock your door. I'll pick you up in ten minutes," he says, already returning to the classroom for his bag.

As soon as he opens the door every eye turns to him. They saw. Tony doesn't react in any way. He packs up his project, grabs his backpack and walks out without a word.

"You still there?" he asks as soon as he's out of the classroom.

"Yeah," Peter breathes. He seems to have stopped crying but he sounds shocked.

"We've got to go," Tony says hurrying down the corridors. "You know that, right?" That photo is going viral in their town as they are speaking. Maybe it's already reached the sheriff's office. Even if it hasn't, they have very little time to escape.

"I… Yes, yes, I know…"

Tony isn't mad for the hesitation in Peter's voice. Their life as they know it is over. Tony remembers the paralysing fear and shock that comes with it. He felt it when they did what they did to Harley. Tony knew ever since that he was only biding his time, waiting for high school to be over and to leave this town and never look back.

"We'll talk about it, I promise," he says, revving up the car.

"Are you driving?" Peter asks. "Let's hang up."

"Nevermind that. I'll talk to you if you need me."

"I'll be seeing you soon. I… I need to pack anyway," he says in a trembling voice."

"Fine, baby. I'll be there in five," Tony promises.

***

Tony doesn't have any trouble climbing up to Peter's window in the middle of the night, so broad daylight only makes it easier. Peter is waiting for him just inside. He looks a right mess. Tony pulls him into a fierce hug as soon as he's inside.

"I'm here, I'm going to take care of you," he whispers soothingly.

Peter breaks down with sobs again but by the time he pulls back, he's got it under control. He points to the two packed bags on his bad.

"Are you sure?" he asks Tony in a pleading voice.

"You remember Harley," Tony says.

Peter sighs and nods.

"I do."

"It's horrible that it's happening to us, but I can't risk them coming after you," Tony argues.

"And you."

"They wouldn't stand a chance. Sheriff Stark would lock me up before they could get their hands on me," he says bitterly. Then he adds in a more pleading voice. "Peter we have to go. We have to get out of this jurisdiction before he closes it down. We'll stop and talk this through as soon as we are safe, I promise."

Peter straightens himself and nods, picking up the bags.

***

"My mother is in the living room, sobbing," Peter says in a distant voice, staring back at the house as Tony pulls out of the driveway. Tony reaches out to hold his hand and gives him a reassuring squeeze.

They drive in silence for a few minutes, when Tony's phone buzzes. It's his mother. He only hesitates a second before picking up.

"Sweetheart?" she asks, sounding out of breath.

"I'm here," Tony croaks, mouth suddenly dry.

"Where are you?"

"On my way," he says with a hint of defiance.

"Good," she says. "Which way are you headed?"

"Best if you don't know."

Silence. "Can you make it to the old gas station by 86?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm your mother and you can't run away without any clothes or money."

Tony's throats tightens and he lets out a shaky breath. It's enough for his mother.

"I'll meet you there," she says before hanging up.

Tony chances a glance at Peter. He's watching him with tears in his eyes.

"I wish I got a chance to say goodbye."

Tony's heart breaks and he can't find anything to say, so he just laces their fingers together and keeps driving.

***

The sirens of the approaching police cars in the distance do nothing to lift their spirits even though the county border is already behind them. Tony wonders what story his father cooked up to warrant his persecution. Everyone must have seen the picture by now and yet the good town folk will lap up the lies their beloved sheriff tells them.

Tony looks at Peter and feels a surge of hatred for Howard at the sight of his tortured expression. After a moment's deliberation, he pulls over.

"What are you doing?" Peter cries.

Tony gets out of the car, walks over to the passenger side and opens the door.

"Come here," he says, extending his hand.

Silent tears start running down Peter's cheeks, but he goes.

"I'm sorry," he sobs into Tony's shoulder.

"It's not your fault."

"He came over to borrow a book and as I turned to fetch it…"

Tony tightens his arms around Peter. He's always seen Flash as an annoying, obnoxious douchebag and wanted to kick his ass oh so many times for bullying Peter. But now, now the things he would do to him… He shudders.

"Shh, baby," he whispers, aiming for a soothing voice. "You've done nothing wrong," he adds more firmly.

"I love you, Tony," Peter says after a few minutes.

"I love you, too. And I'll take care of you, no matter what."

"And I you," Peter glances up at him, tears glistening on his lashes.

"I know, baby," Tony says, cupping his face and kissing him.

They get back on the road in a few minutes. The sirens are still not far enough.

***

Peter dozes off soon after. At least that what it seems like, but Tony can't see his face. When he stirs he looks around in confusion.

"86 isn't this way," he exclaims.

"No, it isn't," Tony says grimly.

"Why?"

"He could have been there."

"Oh, Tony…" Peter whispers, reaching out for his hand.

Tony swallows hard to steady his voice.

"I have a separate bank account that they can't control. I don't have too much on it, but it will get us through the first week. We'll have to find jobs."

"Of course," Peter says. "But where are we going?"

Tony made this decision a long before today but he's never shared it with Peter. He told himself stuff like waiting for the right time and seeing how things between them work out, even though he knew he loved Peter and he knew that Peter would understand. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before speaking.

"New York."

"What?!"

"We can disappear there. Get jobs, make our own way."

"But it's so far. And it's not safe! Is it?"

"Right now it's a hell of a lot safer than any place where we have a chance to run into the same people twice."

Peter doesn't reply just stares out of the window.

They keep driving for almost an hour in silence.

"My aunt lives there," Peter says as if continuing the conversation they were having.

It's Tony's turn to be surprised. "What?"

"We are not in touch. Some trouble between mum and her, I guess," he shrugs.

"Can she be trusted?" Tony ventures.

"I have no idea," Peter admits.

It would be so much safer to have an adult to turn to, even though they are both eighteen, but Tony is very reluctant to trust. He has no idea what to say, so they slip back into silence.

"Harley is there, too," Tony whispers hours later in the middle of the night. He clings to the memory of his best friend as he fights his exhaustion. He drives, so that he can see the bright smile Harley used to wear on his boyfriend's face again. So that they can be free like Harley wanted to be.

"Do you want to visit him?" Peter asks and Tony's surprised that he's awake.

"I never want to see him again," he says, the first drop of tear that day running down his face.

He's fought against the memory of Harley's blood stained face for years. He never wants to see his best friend paralysed and comatose. He keeps him alive within him and hopes that it's enough.

"We'll thrive," Peter affirms. He sounds older than this morning. "For Harley," he adds, voice cracking, "and for us."

#starker #starker bingo #starker bingo 2019 #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #young!tony #angst #a reluctant writes

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gavinstrashbag · 5 years

Text

Guess You Can Call Me Daddy

Pairing: Elijah Kamski x Gavin Reed (Gavski)

Warning: swearing (Gavin, obviously), references to sexual activities

Description: basically the origin story of androids, from my prospective.

———————————

Together, Gavin, Hank, Niles and Connor sat around the table in the break room of the DPD. It was a slow afternoon on a Wednesday - hump day, sheesh - and amazingly, for what feels like the first time in months, they’d all been given a break at the same time.

Usually, if they where a few of them off duty, bored on patrol or just at their desks they would chat. Through messages or verbally - or “telepathically like some freaky alien shit” as Gavin would so politely put it. They’d exchange stupid stories or make up dumb shit to pass the time that couldn’t be spent doing something else.

That’s how they ended up here, at the coffee table, chatting away about relationships.

Since they’d become close after the successful android revolution, talking about relationships didn’t seem so bad anymore. Connor and Hank had... well lord knows what they had, technically speaking they had each other and they where happy. Nines had his deviancy, and from what Gavin could pick up, a whole lot of android ass. And Gavin? Well, they all knew that Gavin had Elijah Kamski, to some extent at least.

The billionaire and Gavin had been a thing since they where 16, which is when Elijah had started the Cyberlife company. This is what Gavin was trying to explain to the Lieutenant and two androids.

————

In their teenage years, Elijah and Gavin where really really close. Spent as much time together as a A+ student would in class and at the library combined. They’d stay round each others’ house pretty much every night, gaming, chatting and play fighting. They’d walk to high school together, then college when they were older. They’d confide in each other when something went tits up, and stay until the other was well again.

Gavin was openly bisexual, Elijah knew that he himself was gay but was too shy to tell anybody. Elijah had the biggest crush on Gavin but would never admit it. He knew in his mind that he just wanted to be selfish, wanted to ruin their perfect friendship in pursuit of something more; at the same time, he was scared of just ruining the perfect friendship because he pursued something that was never going to happen.

Elijah was in an AI & Robotics course when he started experimenting with android creation - Gavin had seen a few of his early creations (like a robot head connected to a laptop that could automate responses). It was difficult, Elijah new that, but he was never one to not keep his head down, not someone that gave up. On the other side of the coin, Gavin was fascinated by Elijah creations, because he never understood how they worked, because he ignored his teachers in class, because he always gave up.

A few months go by and Elijah gets better and better at his creations - a lot of it trial and error - and eventually, after nights gone restless, days spent poking and prodding and waiting, he creates his first android.

This android was a secret. No one knew about it but Elijah. Not even Gavin.

Because it was Gavin.

Elijah had seen Gavin go through boyfriend after boyfriend, girlfriend after girlfriend. He had noticed that Gavin has a type, mostly punk girls or some jock-like I’ve got a silver spoon up my arse type of guy. The relationships always ended the same way - Elijah comforting a broken, distraught, crying Gavin, who was laying face down on his bed.

So, after months Elijah came to the conclusion that Gavin would never lower himself to a nerd like Elijah. Elijah would never be Gavins boyfriend.

But Elijah wanted him. To himself. He was selfish, always had been when it came to Gavin. Selfish with the amount of time they spent together.

That’s why he created another Gavin, one he could keep, have to himself, one he could fuck. Strange thought at first, fucking a robot... but after seeing how lifelike it was, how it spoke just like Gavin would, how it’s eyes where just the right colour to match the real thing. It was Gavin, but it wasn’t. It wanted him, when Gavin didn’t.

It was his secret.

Until it wasn’t.

Now, Elijah had tried his best to hide this new Gavin, he really had. Gavin often visited his house during the time that this “GV” model existed, Gavin was always polite and arranged his visits - since Elijah moved out of his parents house Gavin also kept his wandering limited to the kitchen, living room, bathroom and Elijah’s bedroom - he didn’t want to be unwelcome. During the time that Gavin was visiting, Elijah shutdown the GV model and kept it in his garage in one of the storage cupboards he has. It seemed cruel at first, but it was a risk to keep the android awake when its unbeknownst clone was upstairs.

However, on this particular day, for a reason that not even Gavin knows, he showed up at Elijah’s house unannounced.

Like always, Elijah’s door was unlocked, giving Gavin full access to the wonders of Elijah’s home. He stood in the living room, listening out to where Elijah might be hiding.

Lucid ideas of ways that he could scare the shy nerd popped into Gavin’s mind, a smirk painted his face as he stood, stark still in the living room. He waited for a noise, and indication of where Elijah was in his clean, quaint house.

Scuffling, short footsteps, quiet shuffles from the garage. Gavin heard them.

“Back at work again, Eli?” Gavin whispered to no one, “what are you inventing this time?” He continued.

As fast and as quiet as he could, he made his way to the threshold in the living room- separating the quaint house from the wide spans of the creators garage.

Gavin’s hand fell on the silver door handle, cold to the touch and smooth. He was gentle as he pulled the metal down, slow. The door clicked open softly, barely audible. Gavin pushed the door open a crack, peeking inside.

A car, old, deep blue. A few shelves, storage cupboards, one of them open. A table and chair, computer and electronics. The shuffling of feet again, out of sight, and the sound of another set of foot steps. The second set of footsteps sounded distant, light on heavy, old, dark wood. Stairs?

Confused, Gavin opened the door fully, but peered over his shoulder to locate who ever else it was that could be approaching.

“Gavin?” Elijah’s voice, it came from the stairs.

So if that was Elijah, who was this?

Gavin turned, looked in the direction his body was still facing. He was inches away from butting heads with the other occupant of the house. Gavin was quick to take a large step back, giving him more of a view of-

Himself?

A mirror? No. Couldn’t be, it was a doorway. Twin? No, he was an only child. Drugs? Absolutely not.

The other footsteps stopped. Then started again, quicker. As quick as lightning, Elijah had taken his clones place - or more, stood between them.

Elijah was a beetroot, well, as red a one. His glasses where crooked, hair a messy bun, and his shirt pinched around his stomach were the garage clone - intruder, in Gavin’s eyes - pulled on it, trying to peer round at Gavin.

“Eli...” Gavin started, it was tough to get the name out, to form the words on his tongue, to use the oxygen to say them. “What... who is that?”

“It’s- he’s...you.”

“How?” Gavin shook his head, god, he definitely had to have been drugged, right?

“I made him.” Elijah avoided Gavin’s eye contact when he said this, afraid of what Gavin’s reaction would be.

“Why?”

“Because...” Elijah paused, GV’s hand tugging on his waist to let him see his “twin” became to much, so he stepped aside, letting the two see each other. “Because I knew that I could never have the real thing.”

There was silence.

GV knew this fact of course. Elijah never actually hid the fact that he was based off of a human from the GV model, but then again, he’d never shown him the real deal. And this was it, the worse scenario Elijah could have dreamt up; alas he was letting the truth tumble out of his mouth like sea water into a broken boat.

“Since whe- no, who the fuck told you you couldn’t have the real thing?” Gavin stumbled over his words, utterly baffled that this was the same Elijah saying this shit.

“No one did.” Elijah said softly, “I guess I just needed you...” A sigh, eyes shifting behind black block glasses, quietly spoken, “more than you needed me, apparently.”

Another sigh, from Gavin this time. Long and with a hint of sadness.

“That’s not true Eli.” Gavin’s voice was the softest Elijah had ever heard it. It was the same tone that Elijah himself would use each time Gavin split from one of his significant others. It was careful and kind. Full of love.

A second set of hands had place themselves on Elijah’s torso, warm and soft. Red blood instead of blue.

Gavin had taken a step forward, hands brushing and soothing out wrinkles in Elijah’s shirt. They made their way up to cup his face, gentle, brushing stray hairs that had fallen from the messy bun and scratching through Elijah’s scruff that dusted his jawline. Gavin’s hands stopped, cupping Elijah’s cheeks, thumbs rubbing his cheek bones soothingly.

“You should have told me Eli...” Gavin stood on the tips of his toes, face so, so close to Elijah’s but yet they didn’t move closer. Gavin could feel Elijah’s hot breath on his lips, warm and inviting.

He gave in.

It was quick, clumsy, Elijah’s lack of experience combined with Gavin’s... well, decent amount of experience, resulted in a awkward, teethy kiss; Elijah wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gavin groaned, back clicking in what felt like a million different places as he stretched, before he settled down in a more comfortable position - arms wrapped around his pillow, legs drawn up towards his stomach- oh... oh god. There was definitely something running down his thighs...

Falling out of bed was a lot less graceful than Gavin thought, and Elijah laughed at his clumsiness from his spot on his bed.

“Shut the fuck up...” was Gavin’s response.

—————

Back at the table, Gavin chuckled, hand wrapped round his coffee possessively - being this close to Connor and Niles while drinking his coffee gave him the heebie-yeebies.

“What I’m trying to say boys,” another chuckle escaped his lips, “Kamski created an entire new species because he wanted to bone me so badly.”

The androids turned abruptly to stare at him, LEDs flashing a constant red. The detective smirks, swirling the last of his coffee in the bottom of his cup and continues speaking.

“I guess you can call me Daddy.” Gavin laughs, winks, downs the lukewarm remains of his coffee, haphazardly throws the cup in the sink and walks back to his desk.

Hank and Connor have to carry Niles back to his desk that lunch time, poor sod couldn’t even blink he was still in shock. Connor is still debating ripping out his audio processors if he has to hear that sentence ever again.

Pa-ting!

Gavin looked at this computer, a pop-up message from Connor was on his screen.

RK8myass: so what happened to the GV model?