#She couldn’t do anything about a lot of the other specific songs because so much production was wrapped up in them

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Also it’s not like it wasn’t already abundantly clear but it makes it even more obvious why she cut invisible string as soon as humanly possible from the set list. 😵‍💫

#She couldn’t do anything about a lot of the other specific songs because so much production was wrapped up in them #like lover delicate etc #but this one could be literally anything in the setlist so she was like YEET THIS OFF THE CABIN AND BURY IT DEAD IN THE DITCH #ttpd playlists

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

[comradekatara]

what genres of music do you think the gaang would listen to? what about some of their favorite artists? i think katara would be a big olivia rodrigo fan and that aang would listen to a lot of taylor swift lol

aw come on now be nice to aang. he would have better taste than THAT. i think he would listen to a lot of disco, like donna summer. he would like upbeat funky music that you can dance to. and he’d have a pretty eclectic and varied music taste. like i see him also loving joanna newsom (and not just because divers is about his life). and maaayyybe he’d listen to taylor swift, like one or two songs perhaps, but his ass would NOT be a swiftie.

that said, katara would feel very passionately about her, although whether positively or negatively i do not know. but there is no way she is simply swift-neutral. she would care way too much about pop culture as a phenomenon. i think that even if she really did love taylor swift she’d always preface her name with “famous climate criminal…”

and look, i respect olivia rodrigo, i think she’s a talented performer and makes great songs for amvs (ty lee all american bitch kendall roy brutal nanami vampire, to name a few highlights), but if anything, katara would listen to actual 90s riot grrrl and female singer songwriters, because olivia is simply not as good as her inspirations.

katara would also listen to any music that has a subversive political message or is sung by a woman with eminently powerful vocals. so a combination of punk, folk, some gospel, some heavy metal, and a lot of r&b. also i think she’d listen to very specific shwotunes and defend those musicals with her life.

sokka doesn’t have a music “taste” he has one song that he plays on repeat for weeks until he gets sick of it. sometimes that song is a symphony by beethoven, and sometimes that song is “fireworks” by mitski (okay, it’s often “firework” by mitski). but his one constant is kate bush. he’s fucking obsessed with kate bush.

toph grew up a piano prodigy so she has a lot of opinions on classical music and that’s most of what she listens to for the first decade or so of her life. then she gets introduced to like, tracy chapman and fiona apple through katara and sokka, and realizes that classifying all music with lyrics as “trash” may have been a bit reductive. and when she gets a bit older she gets really into indie rock and begs sokka to take her to concerts. and he doesn’t even really care for the concerts. he just takes her because he knows how much she loves it.

zuko is a mitskigirl thru and thru. i know that ppl say he’d be emo and listen to mcr but that music is too coarse and unpolished for his sensitive ears. he likes music with a beautiful melancholy quality that makes him feel sad yet gorgeous. he also listens to jbrekkie and jay som and other musical equivalents to ocean vuong. he’s literally gaysian what do u want from him.

suki is by far the most into music of anyone in their friendgroup. music is one of her favorite things in the entire world, and if she couldn’t play and listen to music she wouldn’t even want to exist. she’s in an indie folk rock band with her friends called the kyoshi warriors, and they have a lot of followers on bandcamp. she has an incredibly varied and extensive music taste, which is why she’s basically always designated the aux cord. sometimes she’s playing the cranberries and sometimes she’s playing googoosh and sometimes she’s playing otyken. and her taste never misses.

ty lee is one of those freaks who doesn’t really listen to music by choice. instead, she listens to: true crime podcasts, audiobooks (eg, of lacanian psychoanalysis), or sometimes simply has her earbuds in with nothing actually playing so as to seem as if she isn’t eavesdropping on the conversations taking place in her vicinity. but when people ask her what kind of music she likes she just says, “oh, you know…. pop.”

mai is also a mitskigirl she’s even more of a mitskigirl than zuko is (so she claims, although zuko would contest this). she’s very active on spotify because she loves making various playlists for different moods, different vibes, different blorbos from her shows. she likes all different genres, and takes suki’s recommendations very seriously above all.

azula’s two favorite artists are, unfortunately, rachmaninoff and kanye, and that’s all you really need to know about her.

#sapphikatara #asks #modern au #the gaang and #atlamusic #gee katara how come you get THREE bullet points

[vxnillsstuff]

Hi! May I please request Fionna dating headcanons with a fem or gender neutral reader?

Dating Fionna Headcanons - Fionna (Fionna and Cake) x GN!Reader

——————

BACKSTORY (IN ORDER)

(This is like… in a universe where everything isn’t shitty? Like… how her universe was supposed to be.)

Fionna probably met you while on an adventure.

Her and Cake were fighting this big monster and we’re almost about to be defeated when you dropped in and saved them.

She thanked you and offered you to tag along with her and Cake. You happily accepted her offer.

You guys get along really well and throughout the months of adventuring around Ooo, you, Cake, and Fionna were like best friends.

One day, you guys were camping out in the woods since it was late and you guys didn’t want to travel back to the Treehouse.

You were sitting out by the fire that Fionna put together.

You could hear Fionna and Cake talking in the distance but you couldn’t decipher what they were saying.

Then, Fionna came over and sat next to you, warming her hands up on the fire.

She seemed… different. Almost anxious.

You turned towards her and raised an eyebrow.

She turned towards you as well and her face seemed… pink? Almost as if she was blushing… ^_−☆

You asked her what’s wrong and she immediately blurted out how she thinks she has a crush on you.

You pause, a surprise look on your face. You explained that you liked her as well and she seemed surprised.

You two talked about where you were in your relationship and what you guys were going to do now.

You two decided that you guys should just live with these feelings for a bit and see how things go.

About a month later, she asked you out!

She got you a bunch of flowers and made them into a bouquet with some twine. She gave them to you when she asked you.

WHAT ITS LIKE DATING HER (NO SPECIFIC ORDER UNLESS SPECIFIED)

She’s definitely cuddly and very clingy. She’s constantly holding onto you whether it’s the side of your sleeve or your hand.

She was very nervous to say “I love you” because she didn’t want to say it too early and mess anything up.

She was just very nervous in general but as you started to flirt more she loosened up.

She never had a whole lot of energy to clean so anytime you would come over, clean up and talk to her about how living junk isn’t super healthy. You didn’t mind in the end because you liked to help.

When it comes to fighting, you guys would just get into heated discussions but never like actual fights. It’s always over something silly and you guys always forgive each other after.

She is definitely a hoodie / clothing stealer. For example: “where’s my shirt?” you say. “It’s probably at my house somewhere.” Fionna responded, giggling.

You guys defiantly have a favorite thing. For example, you guys have a favorite song that you always listen to when together or a favorite snack you guys always get when hanging out. She’ll always be like, “(insert name here), ITS OUR THING!”

It’s definitely the little things when it comes to the relationship. Like, maybe you’ll set out her outfit or do her laundry. Maybe she’ll make you some breakfast, even if it doesn’t taste the best.

Double dates with Gary and Marshall are the funniest things EVER. Chaotic energy the whole time. (That’s a good fanfic idea… lmk if y’all wanna see that.)

She loves to make little doodles on paper and leave them on your fridge or at your desk. As well as little notes about how much she appreciates you and loves you.

Cake was definitely predicting your relationship. She’d always be like “maybe (insert name here) can help open that jar…” and yada yada.

When you stay the night at her house and the other way around, she always cuddles you and whispers little compliments in your ear. For example: “you’re so amazing…”, “I can’t believe your mine…”, and yada yada.

Dates are always something very simple other than going out with Marshall and Gary. For example, staying in watching movies, going out for drinks, etc. She isn’t too big on fancy stuff.

She’s very big on kisses. She likes kissing you basically everywhere but especially your neck.

STUBBORN. She is hella stubborn and will make a big deal out of everything single thing.

Note: I DID IT! Feel free to request more. 💙🌀

#adventure time #fiona and cake #fionna and cake #marshall lee #fanfics #fionna and marshall lee #fionna the human #Fionna x reader #fluff #cuties #help lol #simon petrikov #könig cod #winter king #smut

[pjisskullourful]

ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕘𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 [dec,2023] [the complete series]

🎄Damiano × Ethan × reader

NSFW🔥 festive filthiness

° Damiano David/Ethan Torchio/female reader insert ✨ cameos by: Thomas Raggi & Victoria De Angelis

° all you want for christmas is some alone time with your boyfriends

wordcount::: 4,876

° merry christmas ya filthy animals. this is lore's fault (@lifeofa-fangirl ) 💋 thanks for encouraging me past my bedtime [requests are open! but commissions are priority! there are 2 fics currently in cue, secure your own spot here!]

° i own none of the lyrics included!

“Aw, I wanna sit on Santa's lap.” You said with an exaggerated pout.

You were watching one of your boyfriends getting ready to film a TikTok, they were making some silly content for social media. Selling the new album, that was the goal. And given the time of year, a Christmas theme seemed like the smartest thing to do. You weren’t sure who had come up with this concept, but it had been agreed for Ethan to play the role of Santa - more specifically, taking on the job of a mall Santa. The other three band members would take turns sitting on his lap, asking for a gift. At the end, it would reveal to be the new album and they would act ecstatically happy.

An assistant had rushed out, buying the best hat and fake beard options available. There was a bit of time before they had to be dressed and fully ready for the stage here in Tokyo, so the makeshift set had been prepared. Paz (the lead social media coordinator) was calling the shots, mobile phone in hand, like always.

You weren’t sure how fond you were of this fake, white beard, mostly due to how much of Ethan’s gorgeous face it hid. But you couldn’t help putting your own dirty spin on this scenario. You pictured sitting on his lap and telling him all the things you wanted him to do to you, once everybody but Damiano was gone.

You wondered what you could say that would make Ethan squirm in his seat. Could you turn his cheeks as red as that polyester hat if you reminded him (in great detail) of the Christmas-themed debauchery the three of you had gotten up to in the past? You could talk about that time in December when you had gifted him new bundles of shibari rope in the festive colours of red and green. He had taught you a few different ties, using Damiano to practise, until he was immobilised, then you had worked together to completely overstimulate him. Or maybe Ethan would like to reminisce on the glass, candy cane-shaped dildo your boyfriends had gifted you one Christmas, which you had later used on yourself while video calling them.

These were all wonderful, festive memories for you. But they needed to be kept to yourself for the moment.

“Do you want us to say anything specific?” Damiano asked Paz.

“Nope. We're going to put music over the top of it, some Christmas song.” She said. “You can say whatever you want, you can literally talk to him in Simlish if you want.”

Ethan's eyes lit up at that, and you didn't need to see his mouth to know that he was smiling. “Wetzbow.”

And Damiano instantly replied with a word from the video game's fake language. “Hooba noobie.”

“Are you gonna be holding your cup of tea in the video?” Thomas asked.

“If he wants to.” She said, overruling everyone else immediately. “You can do what you like, anything but shoving your tongue in his ear.”

Damiano groaned dramatically. “Now that's all I wanna do.”

“On your own time, Dam.” Thomas said.

You stood off to the sidelines, out of the camera's view, not wanting to get in the way of their filming. It was very cute to watch, all four of them overacting and Ethan attempting to not fuss with his beard while Paz was filming.

You couldn't hold back your giggles when he was directed to give the camera a cheesy wink to close the video out. It didn’t look like it was coming naturally to him, instead it looked as if he was putting a lot of effort into completing the simple gesture. Was he overdoing it because he feared that otherwise the camera wouldn’t pick it up?

“What are you laughing about?” Damiano asked, the three of them were perched on the chair around Ethan, holding the record sleeves up for the camera to see.

“Yeah, who fucked up?” Victoria asked.

“No, no, there was no fuck up. I’m just- it’s nothing, ignore me.” You said, trying to stifle any further giggles. “Great winking, bubba. You’re really doing a great job.”

“Thank you?” Ethan said it as a question, his brow furrowed and you covered your lips with your hand.

“Alright, let’s give the ending another take and I’m gonna try to get a smooth zoom in on that wink.” Paz said, refocusing everyone. “Are we ready? Let’s go, lots of energy ‘cause you just got the best Christmas gift known to man.”

You bowed your head and turned around as subtly as possible, so as to not disrupt this take. You kept your amusement over him winking like an alien just introduced to the concept to yourself. You could laugh about it with him later.

*** *** ***

You had long since ceased thinking about Santa, in any shape or form. Now that you were back at the hotel after Måneskin's show, your mind was only on relaxing and getting yourself ready for however much sleep you could secure for yourself. You were cuddling up with Ethan in bed.

Damiano was having his last cigarette of the night, out on the room's balcony with a cup of tea (it wouldn't be his last of the night). Ethan was winding down in his own way, scrolling through Reddit on his mobile phone. If he found anything of interest on ‘Out of the Loop', he read them aloud to you.

He got up to use the bathroom, out of the room when Damiano returned inside. You sat up, taking a longer look at your boyfriend.

“Why do you look like you're scheming something?” You asked.

“Me? I look like I’m scheming something?”

“Yes, you do.” You said as he didn’t make any attempt to conceal the cheeky grin on his face.

“I don’t know what I could possibly be scheming.” He said, going over to the table where your backpacks had been dumped upon first arriving back. “Ethan?”

“Bathroom.”

He didn’t try to hide what he was doing and you watched him opening his own bag, pulling a bright red hat out. You identified it as a Santa hat before he was swiftly folding it up and depositing it into the pocket of the baggy pants he wore. You narrowed your eyes, unable to figure out what his goal was.

“Are you sure-?”

The bathroom door made a little click as it opened and he moved over, going to Ethan’s bag instead. You dropped the rest of your question, wanting to see how this played out.

“Do you have any gum, babe?” He asked Ethan.

He walked over, helping Damiano go through his bag. “Gum? Weren't you just having peppermint tea?” Damiano took his hands out of Ethan's bag, seemingly satisfied that Ethan was distracted enough. While Ethan was looking through the contents, Damiano's hand went into his pocket. “Did you not get enough peppermint, or-?”

Ethan was startled into silence when Damiano brought the Santa hat down onto his head. Damiano pulled it down, the white trim resting above Ethan's eyebrows. He narrowed his eyes, looking at Damiano, clueless. You began to giggle even though you still didn't know what he was planning.

“Was this ever about gum?” Ethan asked.

Damiano put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a tap on the nose. “No, it's about you being the cutest Santa in the world. Look. And we should get to enjoy it for longer, more than a stupid TikTok.”

“Okay.” Ethan relented, knowing better than to resist when Damiano was in a playful mood. “Enjoy it, then. What do you want me to do? Is there a certain pose that you are really needing to see me do?”

“You just do whatever pose feels natural for you, bubba.” You said. “Make the character your own.”

“Actually. Come with me.” Damiano said, taking Ethan's hand and leading him over to one of the armchairs. “Sit down, because this is more about me doing a pose for you.”

“Oh?” Ethan sounded intrigued.

You moved towards the end of the bed, also thoroughly intrigued and not wanting to miss anything. Ethan sat down in the seat and fussed a little with the hat, getting the pom-pom to the right spot.

Damiano plucked his phone out of his pocket and threw it towards you. “Help me out, sweet thing.”

You unlocked the screen - you knew the passcodes to all of their devices. His phone opened immediately to a website that showed you lyrics. Now you knew what he was up to.

Damiano stood in front of Ethan's knees and Ethan smiled up at him. He started to reach one hand up above his head and sang the beginning of the song.

“Santa baby…” He sang sweetly and bent his knees, lowering himself. “Slip a little sable under the tree…”

Ethan chuckled, his smile growing. “I'm getting a song? Wow, a private performance just ‘cause I put a cheap hat on.”

“Been an awful good girl…” Damiano sang, getting down to the floor as he kept his eyes on Ethan. “Santa baby…” Damiano put his hands to Ethan's knees and pushed them apart. “And hurry down the chimney tonight…” He rolled his body forward, filling this new space and getting closer to Ethan.

He reached out, his fingers brushing across Damiano's cheeks. He was leaning in and it was clear to you that he wanted to kiss, still smiling, entirely invested in Damiano's shenanigans.

But Damiano denied Ethan the kiss. Instead of kissing him, Damiano stood up and began to walk a slow circle around the seat. He continued singing, not needing any musical accompaniment to keep his focus.

He stood behind Ethan and popped his head over one of Ethan's shoulders. “Next year I could be just as good…” He moved over to the opposite shoulder. “If you check off my Christmas list…

“Santa baby…” You saw his hesitant pause and then his eyes darted over to you as he mumbled over the next words. “Ah, huh- wan'...”

“Yacht.” You read, prompting him from the lyrics in front of you.

He nodded and went back to singing loudly, fully confident again. “...a yacht, and really that's not a lot…”

The slip up hadn't taken away from how captivated Ethan appeared, he kept his eyes on Damiano, turning his head so as to not miss anything. Damiano got in front of Ethan again, turning his back. He leaned forward, hands on his knees as he presented his ass to Ethan. As he continued singing, he slowly rocked from one side to the other, wiggling his butt sensually in Ethan's face. Ethan was still smiling, raising his hands, clearly wanting to grab.

“So hurry down the chimney tonight…”

Damiano faced him, putting his hands to the buttons that ran down the front of his shirt, making a show of undoing them. “Santa honey…” He got the shirt off, but looked to you for more guidance.

“One little thing.” You said, letting him get his groove back.

He found his place in the song and kept singing. He held his shirt in both hands and passed it around the back of Ethan's neck. He used this to bring Ethan forward, his head going to Damiano's bare chest, which Ethan didn't resist.

Damiano began to shimmy his shoulders, making Ethan laugh. He put his hands to the other man's back, his words a little muffled. “Oh, it's been so long since I've had a good motorboating.”

“Fill my stocking with a duplex…”***

Damiano put himself in Ethan's lap, facing him as he reached the end of the song, still so full of energy. “Hurry down the chimney tonight…” He put his hands on Ethan's shoulders, leaning in. “Hurry, tonight.”

Before Ethan could compliment this performance, Damiano was kissing him. Damiano put his hand to the back of Ethan's head, making it clear that he wanted more than a peck. You were glad to not need to help with the lyrics anymore, now you could stop looking at the phone and instead concentrate on them. You watched the way Ethan kept his hands on Damiano's back, the two of them sinking into this embrace and it was just as enjoyable to watch as his singing.

“That was really great, Daddy. I loved it.” Ethan said as Damiano continued to hold the shirt taut around the back of his neck. “You definitely got me feeling the Christmas spirit.”

“Christmas spirit?” Damiano repeated. “That's what you're feeling?”

“Yeah.” Ethan said before kissing him again.

He began looking in your direction a little. “Do you know who else could do with a little Christmas spirit?”

Ethan looked at you too. “Hi.”

You got up from the mattress, starting to walk towards them without any real plan of what to do. “Hi.”

“I heard what you said before.” Damiano told you. “You said you wanted to sit in Santa's lap too.”

Ethan smiled at you. “Did you say that?”

“Well, yeah. Everyone else got a turn sitting in your lap. But I would do it differently to them, a little less camera-friendly.” You said.

Damiano got up and moved out of the way. “It's your turn now.”

You went over, your hand resting on Ethan's shoulder as you got closer. “I'm not going to sing to you.”

“That is so fine, you don't need to.” He said, his hands going to your body as soon as you sat down. You faced him, brushing his hair back off of his shoulders. “Not to sound too transactional, but the only thing you need to do is tell me what you want for Christmas.”

You put your hand under his chin, propping his face up as you leaned in. “I want to be on the naughty list.”

“What are you going to do to get there?” He asked quietly, his eyes going down to your mouth.

You put your lips to his, moving your hand up to caress his cheek. You were soon tasting hints of the flavour left behind by Damiano - his cigarette and mint-infused saliva still vaguely present on Ethan’s lip as you rubbed your tongue against it. It was a testament to how deeply your boyfriends had been kissing and you intended to go just as deep.

Upon returning back to the suite, Ethan had stripped down to everything but his underwear. So when you pressed your body against his, you were feeling the heat from his skin through the T-shirt you were wearing. You wrapped an arm around his neck, intending to savour all of the benefits that this closeness brought.

“I hate to interrupt.” Damiano said. “But I just felt the need to share how glad I am that you haven’t decided to start talking in a Santa voice.”

Even as he began to turn away, Ethan kissed you a few more times. “Well the voice wouldn’t make much sense without the beard.” This set you off giggling. “But I might start speaking like him, in that I’ll steal his catchphrase to call you a hoe hoe hoe.”

“Ooh, would you? You know how much I love it when you address me correctly.” Damiano said.

With no further interruptions, you got back to kissing Ethan. As you did this, you began to move your hips, gently rocking. It was a prelude to what you planned to do, a subtle way to check his receptiveness.

He moved his hands beneath the material of your shirt, at the same time as when his tongue slid between your lips. You felt the anticipation swelling up within you as you looked forward to creating a new festive (yet filthy) memory with them.

“This guy hears everything, huh?” You said.

“Santa? I think the lyric is about how he sees everything you do, right?” He asked, a cute crease in his brow.

“No, this guy.” You said and you jabbed your thumb in Damiano’s direction to help add clarity.

“Well I listen when you talk, baby. Because most of the time you’re saying something dirty.” He said and as you looked up at him, Ethan started to kiss across your neck. “I was standing right next to you, you can’t be that surprised over me hearing it.”

“So you heard it, and then you just thought about it all night?” You asked.

“Pretty much. A man in a makeup chair has a lot of time to think.” Damiano said. “You weren’t thinking about it after you said it, making little plans of what you would do if you got the chance?”

“Uh…”

“Answer the question, baby.” Ethan said.

“I was definitely thinking about it when I said it. It wasn't just a passing comment, I had some- you know, images in mind at the time. But I let it go once the hat came off because I figured it wouldn't happen.” You said. “And now I'm making it up as I go along, I didn't plan like you. I'm just letting the Christmas spirit take me wherever.”

“Ah yes, the Christmas spirit.” Damiano said, wiggling his fingers in the air.

Ethan got your attention back by kissing you on the cheek. “Well you're in my lap now, you better make the most of it.”

“Watch me make the most of it.” You said, giving him a kiss.

Then you quickly removed your shirt, his eyes keenly taking in this sight. You put your hands down to your panties, happy to get out of them for him. You stood up, removing the lingerie altogether and turning your back to him.

You made sure to arch your back, sticking your butt out as you lowered yourself down to his lap, facing away from him this time. He wrapped his arms around your middle and gave you some kisses across your shoulder, meanwhile you were reaching your arms out to Damiano.

“You must have gotten yourself worked up while you were making your little plans there, Daddy.” You said.

“Yeah, there were definitely images in my mind, as well- interesting, pleasing, exciting, memorable images.” He said, smiling as he moved in closer.

With him standing in front of you, you unzipped his jeans, reaching in for his briefs. Over the fabric, you began to run your hand up-and-down the length of his dick. He cupped your cheek in his hand, gazing down at you. Ethan continued kissing your skin as Damiano caressed your bottom lip with his thumb. As you were grinding yourself on Ethan, you opened your mouth and took Damiano's thumb between your lips, sucking on it a little.

Behind you, Ethan was making some adjustments. Before too long you were feeling his hot and uncovered dick. You grinded your butt against it, feeling how stiff it already was. He tightened his arm around your middle, more of his body tensing as he let you settle into a rhythm.

You were feeling Damiano getting firmer, so you proceeded to pull his dick free of his underwear. Immediately you wrapped your fingers around his length, working your hand at almost the same rhythm you were rocking on Ethan. You didn’t have to match it perfectly, the look on Damiano’s face told you that he was appreciative of what you were doing.

Wanting more than just sucking his thumb, you emptied your mouth and turned away. You looked at Ethan, bumping your nose against his cheek for his attention. He took his lips off of your shoulder, quickly making himself available for more kisses. You leaned in so close as you claimed his mouth again.

He was moving his body with yours, attaching himself to your energy. As the two of you were tapping into this synergy, you acknowledged that this encounter was no longer about playing roles. The focus wasn’t on the time of year, now it was about enjoying the experience of each other’s bodies. He wasn’t acting as Santa, now he was acting according to his desires.

He got himself lined up, sinking the tip of his cock into your slicked entrance. Now excitement rushed into your body and you broke the kiss before your breath could be wholly taken away.

As Ethan tenderly pushed more of his shaft inside, you changed the way you were handling Damiano’s cock. You looked up at him, beginning to direct him towards your mouth. He sweetly stroked your cheek some more, his eyes were locked on you, not wanting to miss any of what you were doing. The way that he was so captivated by your movements, it was the same way that huge crowd had watched him for the duration of the concert. He was so invested and you planned to show him exactly why you had earned this.

You pressed a kiss to the head, enjoying the beginnings of his taste. You saw his breath coming in quicker as he anticipated what you would do next. You moved your tongue in rings on his tip, letting the sensitivities build. All the while, Ethan was pushing deeper into you. You continued stroking your hand on Damiano’s length, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered yourself to this rising passion.

Ethan’s movements were all the more enticing now, steadily massaging you into a heightened state. His hand gripped your side, holding you so securely while his other went to your breast, playing with your firm nipple. As you kept in time with him, he applied kisses to your neck, taking the chance to appreciate every part of you within reach.

You pushed your tongue out over your lower lip before you slid your mouth further down Damiano’s length. His hand went to the top of your head as you took the majority of it between your lips. So as to avoid overwhelming you too soon, he held himself still, the thrusting would come later. You let his head rest against the roof of your mouth as you used your tongue on the underside of his cock. You explored this area, gliding your tongue up-and-down.

When you sucked your cheeks in around his dick, his fingers curled, wrapping around sections of your hair. The swinging of Ethan’s hips got faster, indicating a neediness that hadn’t been present earlier. It saw you moaning on Damiano’s dick as you felt the friction between yours and Ethan’s bodies growing. It introduced tremors into your system and you noticed how his kisses had started to linger, the occasional lick and brief suck added to how he treated your neck.

You changed the angle on Damiano’s dick so that you could take him deeper, directing him to the back of your mouth. He whimpered, his stance altering - you knew him well enough that you could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back much longer.

And you welcomed it. You sought to draw more out of him, taking the head of his cock to the opening of your throat. He gripped your hair tighter.

Then his lust took over and he allowed his hips to twitch forward, plunging him into the tightness of your throat. You felt him throbbing in there.

He sighed out your name. “You’re so ready to use that sweet mouth for naughtiness. I didn’t even have to ask you to put it in your throat.”

He rocked himself back, leaving your throat for the moment. You reset your lips around his dick as he thrust his hips into your face. It wasn’t very quick, and compared to what Ethan was doing, it felt extraordinarily gentle.

He had stopped kissing the side of your neck, now resting his head against yours for support as all of his efforts went into the incessant snapping of his hips. You did your best to keep up with them, meeting the majority of his thrusts. But the power of his movements easily dwarfed yours and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to quit, not while he was so clearly on the path to his climax.

It was enough to just keep moving, to keep your body invested in his momentum as he followed one reckless collision with another. You listened to his numerous failed attempts to catch his breath. Goosebumps sprang up all over your body as the tension swelled up to fever pitch.

You felt how easy it would be to become overwhelmed by the electricity rushing through you. But he beat you to it, capturing his release with one final pound into you.

For the moment it seemed that you could feel every nerve in your system and how fraught they all were. He leaned back, giving you back some of your personal space, his arm loosening around you. He stilled himself after taking his hand off of your breast.

But Damiano was not still, keeping at working his cock between your lips. Ethan stroked your back as you moved your focus, sucking your cheeks in a little harder.

“Well, this sight is better than anything I could have thought up.” Damiano said.

You felt pride blossoming up. There was something in knowing how much you turned him on that added to your own arousal.

It wasn’t as simple or superficial as a compliment. And you were eager to put this energy to use, to ride these dazzling emotions to the next height - where things were going to be even more exciting.

You weren’t sure if Ethan was done recovering yet or not, but you simply couldn’t hold yourself still any longer. You started to build your own pacing, thrusting in his lap again. He didn’t discourage you in any way and you worked yourself on his cock, while still sucking Damiano’s.

He was getting more into his bucking, both of his hands holding your head now. “What do you say, baby?” His tip glided into your throat again. “Do you want a new necklace for Christmas?”

You forced yourself back, taking him out of your mouth. “Uh-uh, I'm gonna swallow it.”

He beamed. “Oh, yes you are.” He pushed his tip between your parted lips and you opened your mouth further for him. “You're so ready to swallow it all.”

You shut your eyes and moved yourself further down his length. His fingers flexed and relaxed, then gripped again on either side of your head. You rutted yourself back into Ethan, striking him consistently.

You could feel the excitement getting out of hand and you were soon chasing for that release. Your walls gripped tight to Ethan's cock and the sensitivities swam through your body, ready to overwhelm you with each hungry thrust.

On his next rock forward, Damiano delivered his dick back into your throat. You couldn't control the spasming this prompted, but you also weren't bothered by it as your focus secured on your own experience. You were diving over the edge and capturing your orgasm, trembling wildly between your boyfriends.

With drool spilling down your chin, you began to come back to reality. You looked up at Damiano, he writhed against you, chest rapidly rising-and-falling as he kept himself in your throat. You were still shaking, you put your hand to his wrist, willing yourself to stay with him.

It was a victory when you felt him unloading straight down your throat - you were rewarded with the thick and hot liquid. With a series of incoherent, strangled sounds he rocked back slightly, leaving your throat, but staying in the warmth of your mouth. You could have taken in a deep breath, instead you breathed through your nose so that you could secure your lips around his cock, giving him a strong finish. He ran his shaft against your messy lips, the cum filling into your mouth with his every lazy thrust.

He finished out the momentum, his fingers relaxing on your head as he pulled out of your mouth. You leaned back into Ethan, who kept his arms securely around you. He reached up, wiping away some of the mess that covered your chin as you took a few thorough swallows. You shut your eyes and just concentrated on catching your breath.

“Definitely on the naughty list now.” Damiano said, his hand soothingly rubbing across your forehead.

“Oh, she's topping that list, for sure.” Ethan said. “I'll put in a word with the right people, because I got connections.”

“When you're making your cup of tea, can I get one as well, please?” You asked, not bothering to open your eyes as you slumped further into him.

“Of course you can get tea, sweet thing.” Damiano said.

As you gradually came down, you and Ethan relocated to the bed. You stole the hat off of his head. Damiano moved around the kitchen while Ethan disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back into the main room, he had a thoughtful look on his face. “So should I grow a beard? Is that what I should take from this?”

“Nope.” You answered quickly.

“Only if it's white and curly.” Damiano contributed as he came over with the tea.

You started giggling as both of your boyfriends joined you on the mattress. “So he'll have to keep it consistently bleached and sleep with fuckin' rollers in it?”

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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joke i thought about much after the fact

*** "Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing- a ring: one that goes on my cock!"

#merry nasty christmas #damithan throuple fic #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut

[thisissirius]

“I should not be left to my own devices.” Can I please have Edgin/Xenk if you're writing for them now? So excited if you are!

can't believe i get to WRITE THIS.

wrench and burn edgin/xenk, post-torture, injury, hurt/comfort

Ed was broken out of his pain-filled doze by the squeak of a hinge. It was too early, he reasoned, for another round. He hadn’t yet recovered from the last, and the smugglers had been regular as clockwork thus far, giving him just enough time to bear the pain before returning. Not that he was desperate to work to a schedule, but any comfort (heh) he could take in the situation was preferred. It took more effort than he wanted to admit to open his eyes, and even more to acclimatize to the darkness. A shape coalesced in the darkness and approached slowly, the familiar clank of metal on metal, and the sturdy, even footsteps. “Edgin.” The word was heavy, and Ed lifted cracked lips in an approximation of a smirk to cover the rush of relief he felt at the familiar voice. “I’ve had worse,” Ed managed to grit out, eyes tracking the dark smudge as it approached. “I should not,” he started, sucked in a gasp, and managed, “be left to my own devices.” Xenk should not look as good as he did when the little light in the room finally illuminated his form, eyes dragging over Edgin’s body, his face, the metal spikes currently pinning him to the cell walls. “It looks worse than it is.” A lie, especially given the time it took to get the words out.

“Ed,” Xenk said again, somehow sounding worse than the last time. His hands lifted slowly, hovering awkwardly next to the metal spearing Ed’s right shoulder. They were shaking. Huh. Ed would say something but his mouth wouldn’t work. “I will have to remove them.”

That didn’t sound great. “Or you could leave them in.”

Xenk at least sounded apologetic when he said, “I regret that I cannot.”

“Kira,” Ed ground out, trying to focus on anything but the pain that was about to consume him. “She’s safe.”

“I would not have left if I doubted that.” Xenk touched Ed’s shoulder; it was the softest grip he’d had since falling into the hands of the smugglers, and Ed almost leaned into it. “One moment.”

Xenk moved away, Ed swallowing down the urge to beg him to stay. He was a grown-ass man who had been in worse situations. Granted, he couldn’t think of any, but he couldn’t think much at all what with the pain thundering through his had. There was the shift of one of the crates, a sound that seemed too loud in the cell. They’d left them there, just in Ed’s eyeline, so that he could see but not rest. Bastards.

Thankfully, Xenk lifted the crate in favour of making more noise, and left it close to Ed’s feet.

“I apologise,” Xenk said.

Ed opened his mouth to ask what for when Xenk lifted his legs, nudging the box at the same time. Pain exploded through Ed’s shoulders and he whimpered, feeling the nausea roll over him. The sound that came out of is throat was one he hadn’t made before. He wanted to move away, anywhere there wasn’t pain, when he registered the voice curling against his ear.

“—breathe, Ed, I have you. Please breathe.”

“Don’t,” Ed grunted, eyes clenched shut against the urge to throw up, “do that again.”

Xenk said nothing, fingers resting on Edgin’s hip, the other stroking his cheek. He was standing awkwardly to Ed’s left, unable to be where he wanted, where Ed wanted him to be—enveloping him in his arms.

“Xenk,” Ed slurred. “Please.”

“I heard your song,” Xenk said, and it took Ed a moment to follow his train of thought.

“My song?” Ed frowned, struggling to comprehend what a song had to do with anything happening to him. “I have a lot. You’re usually more specific.”

“Mmm,” Xenk was still stroking Ed’s cheek which was nice, and Ed really wanted to close his eyes and give in the urge to relax. Even on his box, he couldn’t, because the spears were still in his shoulders. “I believe it is about a sanctimonious prick?”

The laugh caused pain to ricochet through Ed. “I think I know the one. I didn’t mean—”

His words cut off as the spear jerked out of his left shoulder and Ed bit down on Xenk’s clothed arm that was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth. The scream was swallowed as Ed gave in to the pain.

“—one more, Ed, I will be done soon, this I promise. Just one—”

Ed couldn’t focus, couldn’t think beyond the mind-numbing pain as the other spear was torn from wall and shoulder and he collapsed forward, struggling to breathe. His fingers were sluggish and slow as he tried to grip at Xenk’s arms, shoulders, anything.

“I have you,” Xenk said, over and over. “Breathe for me, darling, slowly, that’s it.”

Darling. The word ricocheted around Ed’s head as he fought against the nausea and lost; he threw up over Xenk’s shoulder, sobbing as his body threatened to cave in on itself. Xenk’s hand was in his hair, stroking down the back of his neck, and Ed trembled against him. He felt wrung out, pathetic, and said as much.

Xenk grunted something under his breath and then pulled back, fingers against Ed’s chin. “I will not hear another word.”

Ed stared at him, realising that he must look a mess, through torture and sickness and time. He ducked his gaze, or tried to, but Xenk did not allow him. A thumb stroked over his jaw, his cheek, beneath his eye. Ed hadn’t felt so treasured, so loved, since Zia. He choked on his words, leaning into the touch, allowing himself the comfort, even if just for the moment.

“Ed,” Xenk said quietly, and warmth spread through Ed’s left shoulder, then his right. It wasn’t enough to soothe days of hanging from a wall, or whatever else the smugglers had done to him. It took the edge off the pain. “We must leave. Holga and Simon wait outside, Doric within these walls to cause a disturbance should we need it.”

“Alright,” Ed said slowly. He took a moment to brace himself, and then made to stand. He immediately collapsed forward, Xenk’s hands tightening against his neck and hip. “Give me a moment.”

“I fear we do not have a moment,” Xenk whispered, lips close to Ed’s ear. Ed shivered, would have otherwise made a comment when Xenk gently swept him into his arms, but he couldn’t form the words. It was embarrassing nonetheless, and he made a token grunt that Xenk promptly ignored.

Ed stared up at him, the curve of his jaw, the softness in his expression when he looked at Ed. Oh. Oh. “Xenk.”

“Rest,” Xenk said, voice low. “I swear that I will get you safely out of here.”

Ed wanted to make a comment, quip something about damsels in distress. He kept staring as Xenk looked back; the pain in his shoulders still throbbed, days of inconsistent and terrible food and water, and endless pain had stolen everything but the gratitude. “Thank you, Xenk.”

Xenk’s smile was strained but no less brilliant. “For you, I fear there is little I would not do.”

“Likewise,” Ed said, and found that he meant it.

Xenk shifted Ed further against him, crossing the room to the open cell door. “Rest,” he said again. “I will see you free.”

Black spots had begun creeping into his vision, so Ed gave up fighting it, knowing with a bone-deep certainty that Xenk would do as he said. “Okay.”

As he allowed unconsciousness to claim him, Ed felt the brush of a kiss against his forehead and knew that yeah, he was definitely safe with Xenk.

#edgin darvis #xenk yendar #edgin x xenk #dnd hat #fic by me

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

The Prettiest Star

i started writing this last night but finished it today so it’s kind of both Song-fic Saturday and Smutty Sunday for my 250 Followers Writing Event

Song-fic Saturday 🎶 song: The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

pairing: Sirius Black x plus size! reader 

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, oral, p in v (unprotected — use condoms y’all, this is fantasy), fem!reader, plus size! reader, reader insecurities about her weight, body positivity, non-magical au (couldn’t have them just apparating out of the rain, right?)

notes: i’m a huge music fan and love Bowie and have been listening to Aladdin Sane a lot because it’s just had its 50th anniversary, so hence the song inspiration (“The Prettiest Star”)

word count: 8.1k (yike, please enjoy)

“Does this look too tight?” you ask Lily as you look at your reflection in your favourite jumper, tugging it down repeatedly. You’ve never been particularly thin, but you’d gained a noticeable amount recently, and it was increasingly making getting dressed the worst part of your day. “It looks fine, Y/N,” she says, a bit dismissively, then catches herself (and the look on your face), and adds, “Really. You look beautiful. Don’t ever let the scale tell you different,” giving you a warm smile. It was the “right” thing to say, perhaps, and you were grateful for what a sweet friend she always was to you, truly, but it didn’t make you feel any better. And… if you were brutally honest, it kind of annoyed you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, and the feeling made you feel guilty on top of everything else. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, she was just genuinely trying to help, or perhaps even just genuine in what she said. But somehow, when it came to any comments on your body — especially specifically about your weight, negative or positive, you grew irritable even more than uncomfortable. You felt as if no one understood the mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence that you felt. As if everyone projected either how they felt about themselves or how they assumed all fat people felt onto you. Worse, you felt that you could never express your true feelings to anyone. Even when you tried, things came out muddled, or things you said were directly contradictory — yet equally true. It couldn’t possibly be that no one else felt contradictory things about themselves, about their bodies, could it? Were you just shit at articulating your feelings, or were your feelings that atypical? 

You opt to keep the jumper on even though it hugged your chest a bit more tightly than usual. A twinge of regret went through you at the thought that usually winter was your favourite time in terms of fashion in general and your wardrobe specifically. You loved your winter clothes and winter aesthetics overall. You really didn’t want to let a little weight gain get in the way of that, but it had a way of making itself known no matter how much you tried to avoid it. 

On cue, it whispers in your head, “You probably only like winter clothes more because they cover more of you. None of those pretty sundresses Lily, Marlene, Mary, or Dorcas wear ever fit you. Not to mention any summer outfit that involves no bra or a visible bralette - not a chance.”  You shake your head at yourself, trying to convince yourself that comfort was a complicated thing, that you didn’t have to overanalyze everything in such an accusatory way.  

You finish getting ready and head to the pub with Lily to meet the others. Remus and James greet you, and James can’t say enough times how lovely Lily looks. It makes you happy for them, two of your best friends so in love, but you can’t help but feel a little funny, a little longing at the lack of those comments ever made about you. 

The thing is, you didn’t dislike yourself. In fact, there were many times you genuinely thought you were beautiful, or that you wouldn’t trade yourself for anyone else. But those thoughts came more easily when you were alone, and not wanting to be anyone else did not include not wanting to be yourself, minus a bit here or there. 

You feel a pair of arms come around your middle from behind you, and there’s no time to be freaked out because you immediately know who it is. It’s like a sixth sense. Sure, you recognize his intoxicating smell, can feel and hear the texture of his characteristic leather jacket, but there’s more to it. Before you even consciously register these things or hear him whisper in your ear, you know it’s him. Sirius. Your best friend in the entire world. “Hello, darling girl,” he greets.  “How is my finest friend on this finest of evenings?” 

“Hi, Siri,” you smile, leaning back into him. “I’m alright; you?” You turn your head up to look at him. “Just alright? Oh, we need to remedy that, love. Urgently.” He looks around a bit, registering your other friends, sharing greetings here and there. “D’you have a drink yet? Let’s go get one, yeah?” he asks, unwinding his arms from his hug but leaving one around your shoulders, where it stays as you walk over to the bar together. 

“You’re good then?” you ask again, giggling a bit - sometimes it was as if you couldn’t help it; his presence made you giddy. “Me? Oh, I’m wonderful. I’ve been having the greatest hair day, which is truly saying something, and now I’m with you,” he squeezes your shoulder a bit, “What else could I possibly ask for?” 

You roll your eyes, your smile never fading, wrap your arm around his waist, and say, “Two rum and cokes, maybe?” You nod toward the bartender. “You always have better luck getting their attention than I do. It’s like they only see the attractive girls, honestly.” 

Comments like these came easily to you when you were around people you trusted. It was strange; they weren’t really intended as self-deprecating. And you weren’t fishing for compliments either, especially not with your closest friends. Part of you wanted to be able to make comments like that freely, to not have to censor your thoughts and feelings when it came to your appearance, thinking that such things really shouldn’t be taboo in the first place, and especially not with people you loved. The other part, well, you weren’t so sure what the other part wanted. 

“You’re attractive,” Sirius responds, matter-of-factly, your heart rushing a little at the sound of it. You knew you had feelings for him, had for ages and had no use in denying it, but there was also the lack of pity in his comment. He never treated you as fragile; his voice never took on the tone of a motivational poster. “Maybe not to everyone,” he adds candidly, “but no one is attractive to everyone. And,” he pauses, looking down at you conspiratorially, “a lot of people have shit taste anyway.” He pauses again, considering you intently. Then something shifts in his expression, and he adds, speaking more quickly than before, “I mean, not everyone likes Bowie, for example. Bowie, Y/N, Bowie. Why should we ever put stock in what other people think if some of those people can’t see - or hear or whatever - beauty when it’s right in front of them?”

You grin but shoot back, “You’re attractive to everyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking straight into your eyes, he responds, “Does that include you then?” A careless group of girls bumping into you saves you from having to decide how much of a joking tone to put on your response. You didn’t find Sirius attractive. You found Sirius the most beautiful person you’d ever met, in senses that went far beyond his impeccable hair, his striking grey eyes, his pronounced cheekbones. 

He holds you closer protectively at the jostling crowd, turns to ask for your drinks, and begins absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as he does so. 

“No wonder you always wear this,” he says, pinching your jumper, “It’s so bloody soft.” 

You had no idea he ever remembered or even noticed what you wore. Marlene, sure. Marlene was making a statement every time she stepped out of the house. And her face and body punctuated that statement with a big exclamation mark. But you? You hardly ever got that kind of attention. Maybe a “nice shirt” when you wore a particularly fun pattern, but that was about it. 

You notice him looking at your torso as he says this and swear his eyes linger on your chest. You’re worrying he can tell it’s tighter than usual, so you tug at the hem, but when he looks quickly away, you try not to make too much of it. 

You’re having loads of fun with your friends, swapping stories, sharing shots, occasionally shouting the lyrics to the good songs that come on. You and Sirius — who’s standing next you, his arm perpetually around you, much to the dismay of the many girls and few guys who come flirting — have a habit of turning to each other every time a new song comes on, deciding in unison whether it’s a good or bad one. The very occasional disagreement yields the most fun arguments, always along the lines of “You think this isn’t rubbish? You’re making me question our entire friendship here, love. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” (Sirius) or “Oh, come on.  This sounds exactly like every other song in the genre but mediocre. Not everything has to be original, but it’d be nice if it weren’t typical and trash.” (You) 

Then some new Bowie comes on. And Sirius looks as though he’s just received the greatest news of his life. 

Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire / You will be my rest and peace child, rings out Bowie’s electric voice. “Come dance with me!” Sirius bursts at you, hardly asking, dragging you by the hand to where a few (mostly quite drunk) people were dancing. He’s holding both your hands, and you’re moving together organically, falling into a languid rhythm with each other and the song. By the next line, Sirius is singing along, and as he sings with Bowie, “I moved up to take a place… Near you,” he shuffles closer to you seductively, looking nowhere but into your eyes as he places your hand on his shoulder and moves his own to your hip.

He’s theatrical with every lyric, each of which he knows by heart; “So tired,” he swoons; “It’s the sky that makes you feel tried,” he belts looking up toward the ceiling; “It’s a trick to make you see wide,” his eyes come back to yours, open wide and full of mirth; “It can all but break your heart…,” he steps closer to you again;  “… In pieces,” he swoons again, this time onto your shoulder, leaning on you and holding you close. You’re too busy laughing both with and at him to be able to sing along yourself.

“Staying back in your memory… Are the movies in the past,” he continues, acting less and dancing smoothly with you, spinning you around and catching you close afterward.

He’s staring into your eyes, his face very close to yours as he sings, much more softly now, swaying slowly more than dancing, “How you moved is all it takes… to sing a song of when I loved… the prettiest star.” His hands squeeze you as he says those last three words. 

He gives you another playful spin and goes on, “One day… though it might as well be someday… you and I will rise up all the way… all because of what you are…” Then, for the first time in the whole song, he and Bowie don’t synchronize. As Bowie finishes the line over the speakers, “the prettiest star,” you distinctly hear — and see, since his lips are so close to you after all — Sirius finish, “my prettiest star.” 

The rest of the world has all melted away by this point; all that’s left is Sirius; all you can hear is the song, his voice, your frantic heartbeat in your ears. His hand comes to your face, caressing your cheek then resting there.

You have no idea how to react. Sirius flirted with you often. But Sirius flirted with everyone often. It was just a quirk of his personality. And Sirius touched you often. But it was never this gentle, this intimate. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Because as much as — or perhaps because of how much — you love him, you can’t really believe he’d see you that way. You’ve let yourself entertain the idea many times, sure, even suspected from time to time over the years of your friendship that maybe just maybe your desire was mutual, but ultimately, your fears and doubts — doubled every time a girl half your size who could so easily be on any billboard flirted with Sirius — would win out and push those thoughts and feelings down. 

Your rhythmic swaying, your prolonged eye contact, your bursting heart and muddled mind continued through the end of the song. Though you knew it must have been about a minute and a half, it had felt like hours, time expanded by both bliss and trepidation, by the time the music changed and you broke apart. As you do, Sirius just watches you, as if searching for something. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper when you whisper, “That was fun,” and give him a quick hug, not letting yourself linger and pulling back before his arms were comfortably around you.

You have plans with Sirius the next day, and as you’re getting ready, you can’t help but remember back to his comment on your jumper last night, more worried at your appearance now that you think he noticed it more than you did before. You’re standing in your room in just your underwear stressing out over what to wear. You’ve put on your best bra, the one that does the most to help your figure without being too uncomfortable, and you’ve made a mess of your knickers drawer looking for a clean pair of high-waisted ones. 

There was a time you would’ve avoided looking in the mirror at this stage, but now, you stand in front of it and give yourself a serious look. You suck your stomach in, and pull a bit with your hands on your hips, then let it all go, contemplating the difference. You turn to your profile, admiring the curves of your chest and your arse, but wishing there was less of your thighs immediately after. Arching your back and grabbing your arse, you wonder whether anyone — you close your eyes and admit to yourself: no, not anyone, Sirius — whether Sirius would find this, would find you attractive. As you take a deep breath, you lament how thinking of others’ opinions always made it so much harder to look at yourself with loving eyes. You didn’t hate your body, but your frequent worries that others would brought you down on more days than you wanted to admit. 

You put on your favorite jeans, but as you go to choose a top, you remember one you’d borrowed from Lily a few months ago that had looked good. It was quite loose on her and a bit tight on you, but you each pulled it off differently. You ask her for it, and she happily obliges, but when you put it on, a knot turns in your stomach. It’s way too tight. The pattern is stretched; your boobs look huge; it somehow brings out rather than covers the fat on your sides. Taking it off in a hurry, you have to take another long, calming breath to keep tears of frustration at bay. 

After finally finding something of yours that worked, giving the top back to Lily with a quick “Thanks, but it didn’t look as good as last time,” and giving yourself too many “final” glances in the mirror, you bundle up as you head into the windy afternoon.

You meet Sirius at the record shop near his flat. You see him before he sees you. He’s browsing the racks, and per usual, he looks effortlessly cool and unreasonably attractive. His long fingers are accentuated by his several silver rings as he flips through the records. He pushes his long hair out of his eyes in a careless gesture, and you’re almost angry at how it falls so perfectly he might as well have just spent an hour in front of a mirror. 

You’re approaching him when a cute girl in a hot crop top walks up to him. She steps closer to him than any normal interaction would warrant. “Anything I can help you find, handsome?” she asks, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the twinge of a double meaning in the question. Maybe she’s just a flirty person doing her job. “We have a few special ones in the stock room I could show you…” Nope, not just doing her job. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m waiting for someone.” As he looks away from her back toward the records, he catches you in his peripherals. He smiles a beaming smile at you and gestures you over. 

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he begins enthusiastically. You hug; it lingers, and he squeezes you lovingly. “Mm, you smell nice,” he adds, as if it’s a normal thing to say. Is it a normal thing to say? Maybe it is. Maybe you’re overthinking, especially after the moment you shared last night.

“Thanks, new shampoo. What’d you find?” You look toward the records to ease the tension you were probably creating. 

“Check this out.” If he noticed any awkwardness, he definitely doesn’t show it. He pulls out a record you had recently had a long conversation about. 

“Brilliant!” you react, snatching it from him and turning it over in your hands, reading its contents eagerly. 

He chuckles at you, and if you’d been looking at him instead of the record, you might have seen the accompanying adoring look. 

“I know. It’s our lucky day.” 

You browse around the shop together, chatting easily, both about music and all sorts of random things that came to mind. Talking to Sirius is always easy, always gives you more than the contents of the conversation to hold onto, to fill you up. 

You go to pay, and the girl from earlier is working the till. Sirius goes to the loo, so it’s just you and her when you hand her a couple of records to ring up. 

“Cool choices.” “Thanks.” “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks, nodding behind her toward the toilets. 

“Oh, um,” you stutter. You’re not exactly sure why “no” doesn’t just easily come to your mouth. “I don’t know how you managed it. Lucky bitch,” she half laughs. You’re mortified; you can’t tell for sure, but you think she is trying to be friendly, just in a very strange record-shop-employee, rock and roll kind of way. 

Sirius comes back around, and you hope to hell he hasn’t heard anything. 

“All good, darling?” he asks, putting his arm around you. This wasn’t unusual for him, the nickname, the contact. But you’re already in an uncomfortable headspace, and your first thought is that you hope he isn’t doing it as an act for her benefit. You don’t even know if he’d heard, and your anxiety is taking over anyway. You keep running the woman’s words over in your head. How had she meant it? Did she mean she couldn’t believe you had managed it? As in specific, chubby, you? Or was she just making girly conversation? Would she have said the same to any woman, no matter how attractive, who had come into the shop with Sirius?  

“You alright?” Sirius’s voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You look over at him, and his gaze is gentle but concerned. 

“Yeah, fine, sorry,” you reply quickly. “It’s all good,” he smiles comfortingly at you. 

Once outside the shop, you debate your next move. Normally on weekends when you’d get records, you’d then go eat, then go to his and listen to some of them, sometimes sharing a blunt, sometimes just getting high on the music. 

You’re both looking up into the newly drizzling sky when Sirius says, “How about, we get take-away somewhere close, then just eat at mine? It looks like it’ll get worse soon, but I reckon we can make it before it really starts up.”

“Yeah, great.”

You’ve made it only a few blocks, though, when the rain pours down in sudden torrents. 

“Oh, shit!” he laughingly yells, protecting the records, taking your hand, and sprinting to the nearest protective awning. By the time you make it, you’re both already extremely wet, and the weather is so windy the cover hardly helps in keeping it from getting even worse. 

You’re squeezing as close to the wall as possible, standing chest to chest, the records between you, his arm around your waist, your faces close enough for you to see each individual drop as it travels down his face. His eyes match the sky behind him, and you silently marvel at his beauty. He looks up for a second then is overtaken by heartfelt laughter. 

“Didn’t quite gauge that one right, I guess,” he chuckles. You’re laughing with him when a particularly strong gust blows freezing water forcefully at you, making you gasp and stiffen. 

“Shit,” he laughs. “Let’s make a run for it.” He takes your hand again, and you both jog the few blocks to his flat. 

You’re both still giggly when you step inside, leaving a puddle in the doorway where you stand. You take off your shoes and outer layers, but you’re drenched all the way through. 

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” he amusedly complains, stripping down to only his jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile by the door. He hugs himself and rubs his arms, trying to warm up, and you’re glad your soaked demeanour is already such a mess he probably can’t tell how flustered you are by how attractive — and bare — he is. He reaches over to you and rubs your arms like he had been doing his. “Fuck, you’re freezing too. Come to my room, and I’ll lend you something to wear.” Your giddy mood dissipates immediately. There was no way in hell his clothes would fit you. He was obviously leaner than you, and your hips and thighs hadn’t gotten along well with men’s clothes even in your thinnest of states. He’s halfway to his room already, and you’re frozen by the door. “Y/N?” 

You look over. You hope he doesn’t notice your eyes quickly travel his bare torso. “You coming or what?” he keeps on casually. When you get to his room, he’s bringing some towels out of the bathroom and throws you one. You start drying your hair as he rummages in his drawers. “Um,” you start. You sound more nervous than you mean to. He clearly notices because he immediately turns back to look at you to see what’s going on. “What is it?”

 You hate worrying him like this, especially over something so stupid. Why did you always have to make things uncomfortable? Or better yet, why couldn’t you just be a girl who would fit in his clothes. “Hey, what is it?” he repeats, gentler this time, coming over to rest his hands on your shoulders. Your self-deprecating, cruel inner monologue is clearly showing more than you’d hope. “You alright, love?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sorry,” you try to laugh it off. “Don’t apologise.” It’s gentle, not scolding. “Just talk to me.” His hands continue rubbing your shoulders lovingly. “Just that I think I’m fine like this is all. Don’t worry about finding stuff for me,” you try. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll freeze to death. It’s fine; I don’t mind.” He goes back toward his dresser.

Ugh, how do you say “It’s not about your minding, actually. It’s about my stretching and ruining anything you could possibly lend me” without sounding weird and embarrassing? 

“Thanks. Um, I’m not quite sure anything of yours would fit me though.” “We’ll find something,” he says relaxedly, opening another drawer. “Here, this one is really warm and comfy, and it’ll definitely fit,” he says, tossing you a sweatshirt. You recognize it, have seen him wearing it before. He only ever wore it while lounging at home, and it was quite big on him, so maybe it would be okay. 

“And… uh,” he rummages, “try these. They’re a bit small, but they’re stretchy.” He hands you a pair of sweatpants. You’ve never seen him wear these. They would probably be too big on him. He grabs his towel and some clothes for himself. 

“I’ll go change in the living room. Just come out when you’re ready. Grab whatever you want.” His tone is friendly, at ease. Unlike your feelings. You are freaking out. As soon as he closes the door, you strip down to your knickers, which thankfully aren’t very wet, at top speed, thinking you should hurry in case it takes you time to figure out the clothes. You don’t want to take too long and make things awkward. You towel yourself off and slip on the sweatshirt. It fits fine. It isn’t loose like it is on him, but it doesn’t look too weird. And it is indeed warm and comfy. Now for the more concerning part: you try pulling the pants on, a repeating “please, please, please” playing in your head. Fuck. No luck. They stop a bit above your mid-thigh, and there is no way you’d be able to pull them all the way up. You think of putting your jeans back on, but they are drenched, and it would’ve been like trying to get back into a heavy straight-jacket. You start panicking, unsure what to do, already worrying you are taking too long to come out. You look through his drawers, but all his other bottoms look even smaller. You try just wrapping the towel around your hips, but you look quite strange in the mirror. 

You’re pacing in his room when he knocks. “Y/N? You alright? No rush, really, just making sure everything’s okay?”

You brace yourself, go to the door, and crack it open, hiding your body behind it, just popping your head around. He’s standing there, his wet hair half tied up, a dry t-shirt and sweats on. 

“Um… the sweatpants don’t fit,” you whisper, embarrassed. 

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Um, how about…,” he looks around, as if bigger pants would magically materialise somewhere in his living room. “Oh, perfect.” What could possibly be perfect right now? “Your favourite blanket is already on the sofa. How about I turn around, and you can just go get under it, and I’ll hang your trousers on my heater.” 

You nod timidly, the warmth in your cheeks from your embarrassment blazing even hotter at the thought of how sweet he always is to you. 

“Great. Uh, ok,” he chuckles, awkwardly turning around. You scamper to his sofa in your underwear, quickly covering your legs with his big cosy blanket. 

“Ok,” you let out softly. He turns around and looks you over. You can’t tell what’s in his eyes as he does so, but there is an intensity there that you’re not used to. He blinks quickly and gives you a strange, strained smile. He disappears into his room, and you hear him sorting your clothes out to dry. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt when he returns. 

“You alright? Comfortable?” he asks, seemingly back to normal.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I didn’t meat to, uh, well, sorry I’m a bit difficult,” you reply a bit awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to apologise for but feeling the need to. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Really. If you’re okay like this, then we’re all good, right?” You can’t help but worry what will happen as soon as you have to get up. Would you wrap the blanket around yourself like a weirdo?  As if reading your thoughts, Sirius goes on playfully, “I’ll wait on you like royalty so you don’t even have to get up.”  You make an odd half laugh, half relieved exhale sound in response, and he just chuckles. “Starting with…” he fast walks over to the door, grabs the bag of records and brings it back over to the sofa, sitting next to you but not getting under the same blanket like he usually does. “Which do you want to listen to first?” he asks, bringing them all out to look at together. 

As soon as you started discussing it, it’s like waking up from a nightmare, realising all is well and returning to a calm normality. You debate and joke, decide on a record, and he gets up to put it on and make some tea, still chatting casually to you throughout. 

When he’s back on the sofa with you, he looks down, smiles, and says, “Looks better on you than on me.” You tug on the sweatshirt self-consciously, smiling shyly at him.  You fall into your easy rhythm, listening, talking, laughing, and before you knew it, the whole record’s played. Sirius gets up, walking toward his collection rather than the small stack of new records on the table. He picks one easily, and puts it on. The quirky piano of Bowie’s “Time” begins, and your heart speeds up. You love this album. So does Sirius. But this isn’t the first track. It’s the first track on the B-side, and the next song after this, you remember, is “The Prettiest Star,” the song you and Sirius danced to just last night. He doesn’t say anything until he’s seated next to you again. “I know we usually listen from the beginning, but the B-side is better on this one, and I didn’t feel like being patient.” His tone is playful, but there’s a heaviness to it. He glances away from you and leans toward the table to take a sip of his tea. 

“What’s your favourite track?” you ask, smiling. You’ve asked him this question innumerable times over the years, but you’ve never been as excited for his answer as this time, and you have a feeling you know what it’ll be. 

“‘The Prettiest Star,’” he replies immediately, looking toward you again. As quickly as he had, he looks away again as he adds, “Because it reminds me of you… even before last night…” After a beat, he ventures a glance toward you, that same searching look from last night taking over his beautiful features.

Unlike last night, you don’t feel panicked — nervous, sure, but more than that, loved. “Last night felt pretty special,” you say. “Yeah?” He seems hopeful. “Yeah, it was.” His voice is serene, like he’s contemplating something utterly peaceful. “It’s funny, though,” you say, and he looks at you, his eyebrow quirked. “It’s really about you, isn’t it? Not me.” You laugh. He looks like he wants to laugh with you, a twinkle in his eye, clearly happy that you are happy, but confusion holds his expression. You explain, “Well, you’re ‘the prettiest star,’ aren’t you? You’re obviously prettier, the prettiest… and the brightest in the night sky in fact… ‘Sirius.’” You say his name with all the love you feel for him.

He leans toward you, taking your hand. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness to it. 

“You might not be named for a star, but you’re my prettiest star, Y/N.” He looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”  His eyes scan your face. “It’s almost too bright to bear sometimes, to be honest, your beauty,” he adds, smiling more vividly now. He brings his other hand to your face, just as he did last night. But this time, his fingertips begin by taking their time tracing your features: your eyebrow first, your nose, your cheekbone, down to your jaw. His thumb grazes your lip, barely touching it but lingering there, before moving to caress you cheek. “You’re so beautiful, my prettiest star,” he repeats, as the song begins in the background. 

“Sirius,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

“Darling girl,” he responds, moving closer to you until your foreheads meet. Your nose nuzzles his, and you stay like this for several seconds. You bring your hand to the crook of his neck, and holding him, you lean forward. The song goes silent, the intro ending, the anticipation built, and right as Bowie’s voice comes in, your lips meet. 

Sirius’s hand slips from the side of your face to the back of your head, holding you firmly, leaning into you hungrily. His hand holding yours goes to your waist, pulling you close to him until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your fingers into his hair. 

He moans into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue with yours, breaching into his mouth. He lets you, and as you explore him, he pulls your body until you find yourself kneeling on the sofa in front of him, the blanket fallen to the floor. 

You pull back momentarily, and he stills his movements, watching you, waiting for your cue for what to do next. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown, his lips parted, but you know that if you sat back down and told him you just wanted to listen to the record, that’s exactly what he’d do. But that’s not what you want. So, you lean forward and pick up your exploration right where you left it. He groans appreciatively and sucks on your tongue in his mouth, before pulling you on top of him. 

You’re straddling him, and you’re so attracted to him you’re drowning in it, but even still, your nerves are there. You feel heavy. Too heavy to be sitting on top of him like this. He keeps his hands on your waist and strokes your back, not venturing any further down, pulling back to look at you. You shift clumsily, trying to put more of your weight on your knees on the sofa, but not being able to without spreading awkwardly wider or ending up lopsided. He holds you firmly, centering you again, hugging you close. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you whisper, trying to explain what he’s already figured out. 

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him before he says, “Trust me, darling, I’m about as far form uncomfortable as a person can be right now.” He squeezes you lovingly, clearly careful to squeeze all of you and not just any specific place, which might make you uncomfortable. “I’ve been going absolutely mental this whole time just knowing you weren’t wearing anything but your knickers under that blanket.” 

“You have?” you ask, surprised, your eyes wide, your voice soft. He giggles again, always adoring, never mocking. “Fuck, how can someone be so adorable and so sexy at the same time?” It baffles you how someone can say the word “sexy” so seriously and not sound silly at all, give it so much confidence that it just sounds so, well, so sexy. He pecks your lips. “You’re going to kill me, woman.” Now you laugh. 

“Oh?” “Mm,” he groans affirmatively as he runs his hands up your sides and back and kisses you ardently. He moves to your jaw, kissing languidly down to your ear, where he nips playfully and sucks on your neck another moment before looking into your eyes again and saying, “Fuck, Y/N, tell me you want this too.” A kiss. “I’m desperate for you.” Another kiss. “But only if you want me too.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I want to make you feel good, darling. Fuck, I can make you feel so so good.” Your hips grind down on his at his words, and he throws his head back in a lustful groan, and his hands squeeze you tightly where they hold you. He recovers, stroking your back again and resting his forehead on yours as he asks, “Can I touch you, Y/N? I’ll stop anytime you say so, but I’m dying to worship you.” You kiss him deeply, holding him close, grinding your hips down again. “I want you to touch me, Siri.” At this, his mouth immediately devours yours, and his hands come down to squeeze your arse. He kneads it roughly, pulling you into him with each motion, inadvertently pushing his hips up a bit each time to meet yours. You feel the hard, evident bulge in his pants underneath you, and it turns you on even more to feel wanted in such a visceral way. There is no missing how much his body wants yours, and that surprises but arouses you to no end.

His hands come down to your thighs, and you gasp and stiffen a bit. He stops but leaves his hand there, stroking you cautiously. 

“Y/N?” He bumps your nose with his. “I…” You peck his lips. “You really don’t mind my body?” you ask, your voice small. 

“Darling,” he breaks a little. “Mind it? I adore it. Can’t you feel what you do to me?” he half jokes, thrusting up into you. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip at the addictive friction. “Y/N. Look at me, love,” he whispers. You do. “I think you are the most gorgeous, sexiest woman in the world. Of course it’s all intertwined with how much I love you, but that just makes it even better. God, you have no idea how much you turn me on.” He kisses you short but hard. “I never want to tell you how to feel, love, but I just wish you knew how beautiful you are, how you are the most beautiful to me.” You kiss him again and become immersed in it fully. Your tongues are dancing with each other, your hips, your hands, moving in tandem with each other, melting into each other in a perfect push and pull. 

His hands slip under his sweatshirt, and he whispers, “Can I?” You don’t hesitate, entrusting yourself to him, and detaching yourself from him only enough for him to slip it over your head. His hands come to your breasts, and you hear him say “fuck” again as he kneads them and keeps kissing you. His hands keep massaging as his mouth moves down your jaw wetly. He takes his time moving down your body, sucking your neck, licking across your sternum, kissing delicately down to between your breasts. He buries his face there and moans, and it’s so hot you pull him to you and scratch his scalp where you’re holding him by his hair. He kisses there again then his fingers move to pinch your nipples. He mixes pulling it with massaging your whole breast with one hand, but the other just grips your tit as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His tongue licks around it a few times before he sucks on it, and his groan is drowned out by your pleasured yell. 

“Fuck, Sirius,” you say, your voice a rasp. 

“Mmm,” he responds, not letting up, switching breasts after sucking a bit harder. Once he’s satisfied (for now) and your nipples are hard and sore, he grips your tits again with his hands and licks into your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, you have the most incredible tits.” He squeezes them. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of taking your shirt off and touching you.” He goes back down and gives each a quick but delicious suck. “Let’s go to my bed, yeah?” You nod heatedly. 

You’re a bit self-conscious as you move to get off of him, more aware of your body beyond the pleasure again though you had been so lost in it just a moment ago you’d forgotten about everything else. Sirius helps you off and up, his hands on your hips, and he pulls you into him as you both stand, making out with you before squeezing your arse as he pulls away to walk to his bedroom. You wrap your arms around yourself  as you walk with him, but when you’re standing in front of the bed, he takes each of your hands in his and kisses you while holding them, bringing his body flush with yours. You break the contact to pull on his shirt, and he eagerly obliges, removing it and tossing it aside. 

He guides you onto the bed, his body following on top of yours, your mouths connected the whole time. You shuffle up the bed then tug his sweats down when you’re settled. He helps you, shimmying out of them. They get caught on one of his ankles, and you both laugh as he curses and contorts awkwardly to pull them all the way off. 

You’re both left only in your underwear as he starts kissing you again, slowly making his way down your body. He spends a lingering amount of time on your tits again as he goes down then keeps kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your knickers. He looks up at you for any hesitation, but you just bite your lip and lift your hips. He smirks in excitement as he pulls your panties off of you. He does it slowly, teasingly, and he licks down your thigh tracing where the fabric passes. Once they’re off, he pushes your knees a bit further apart and starts kissing and licking his way back up. He sucks at the top of your thigh, and it makes a pop as he separates from you. 

Kneeling between your legs, massaging your thighs on either side of him, he says, “You drive me mad, Y/N. You’re so fucking delicious, I could spend eternity between these thighs.” You squirm at his graphic words, already exceptionally strung out. He chuckles lowly down at you and kisses you quickly before adjusting himself with his head between your thighs. 

“Today really is my lucky day,” he says, face lined up with your cunt. “This is the second time I see you drenched today, and I fucking love being the cause of it this time.” Without further ado, he licks a sopping stripe from your entrance up to your clit.  Even this first motion sounds wet. You’re sure you’ve never been so wet in your life. 

Sirius buries his face in your cunt, groaning as he licks into you then sucks on your lips. He goes back and forth between sucking on you and fucking you with his tongue. He keeps playing with you until you’re squirming before bringing his mouth directly to your clit. He’d grazed it as he licked you before now, bumped you with his nose, teasing you, but now he gives it his full attention. He’s licking and sucking, moaning all the while like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten, moving his whole body with the passion of it, and it takes very little more for you to start cumming on his mouth. You make a yelping sound you’ve never made before in your ecstasy, and with your eyes closed, you feel as if the world is a million miles away; all you feel is your body and where it is connected to Sirius’s.  He keeps up his motions and fervor until your pleasured squirming turns into overstimulation squirming. He gives you one last lick and suck then shuffles up your body, kissing it intermittently as he does, until he’s face to face with you, smiling a smile you’ve never seen before. 

“Hello, darling,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself, kissing you.

“Hi,” you sigh, sounding completely fucked out. He giggles at you and kisses you again. 

“Feel good?” 

“Mmhhmm.” You stretch underneath him and languidly wrap your arms around him, licking his lips slowly before kissing him again. 

“Fuck,” he responds. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice is high, blissful. You rut up into him. He chuckles at you and strokes your hairline, kissing your forehead. 

“You want to? You’re alright?” “Of course, Siri. I’m brilliant.” “That you are, my love,” he beams at you then pushes his pants off. “My prettiest star,” he says, as he pecks your lips then your nose then lines himself up with your entrance. 

His eyes penetrate yours as he pushes into you. You moan in unison, and his mouth lingers just above yours, grazing your lips, your foreheads touching, as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper. When he bottoms out, he kisses you eagerly, stroking his tongue into your mouth as his cock ruts deep inside you. Your hands grip his back. His hands come down to your thighs one at a time, squeezing passionately before pushing your legs up and out, wrapping them around his waist. 

Normally, you’d feel self-conscious in this position. Almost bent in half, your stomach protrudes between the two of you. Your thighs are thick at his sides. But the look on his face, the feel of the movements of his body is all love and adoration and ardor. 

He kisses you as he thrusts a bit harder, keeping it slow at first but vigorously punctuating each thrust. One of his hands rests beside you, holding him up, but the other stayed on your leg, stroking your thigh and gripping your arse or hip bruisingly with each forceful motion of his hips.  

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “You’re fucking perfect.” He thrusts hard, a gentle kiss on your forehead contrasting it seductively, then begins picking up his pace. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on it as he pounds repeatedly into you. 

You’re gripping him tightly to stay in position, your arms and legs tense around him. You can’t move much, but his movements are enough for the both of you, especially as he brings his knees up a bit to get a new angle. He’s hitting your spot with almost every thrust, and you’re whining in pleasure in time with each. You squeeze hard around him, not just your arms and legs but the soft walls around his cock as well, and he groans animalistically into your skin. His hips stutter in response, but a moment later he’s pounding rhythmically again. 

His breathing gets heavier, his muscles tighter, and with a broken gasp, he shifts sideways a bit to snake his hand between you to where you’re connected. He rubs harshly on your clit, not bothering to start slow, clearly aware he doesn’t have time for that. His hips piston even faster; his hand presses harder, and a few seconds later, you feel fit to burst. You let out a yell as you release around him, the most intense orgasm of your life making you see white stars. 

“Sirius,” you half yell, half sigh. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to?” he rushes out, his hips still moving fast in and out of you. You tighten your legs around him, and clench your cunt, pulling him into you. “Inside, Siri. Cum in me.” His immediate groan sounds strangled as you feel the warmth of him inside you. The words “cold fire” play in your mind. He thrusts a few more times then goes limp on top of you, panting loudly, kissing your neck and cheek between heavy breaths. 

He rolls off but stays close, never fully breaking contact with you, and he wraps his arm around your waist, lightly stroking your back, as you both lie on your sides facing each other. You feel the urge to cover yourself up but resist it, trying to melt into the vulnerability. The utter adoration in his eyes when you look into them helps. 

“I love you,” you whisper. He smiles a smile that makes his stormy eyes shine, leans in, and kisses you tenderly. 

“And I love you,” he says matter-of-factly, his voice smooth and sappy. 

You pause, contemplating, reveling in the joy of the moment but unable to ignore a tug in your stomach. “I’m sorry I was too… I don’t know, scared? to really show you before.”

“Don’t be, darling. I’m sorry I waited so long to really show you too, but I’m even more sorry if I ever made you doubt how much I do, how loved you are.” “You didn’t.” You shake your head then nuzzle his nose with yours. “I just sometimes didn’t understand. It’s confusing, how someone like you can love someone like me so much.” “Darling. It’s the least confusing thing in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know. In all kinds of ways. And I’ll show you every day you’ll have me; you’ll see it clearly too; I’m sure of it. I’m just worried when you do, you’ll realise the real wonder is you loving me.” He laughs a bit, but you can hear the truth to his concern, his own insecurities surfacing. 

You stroke his cheek, kiss him, and say, “We’ll both keep showing each other then. For always.” His smile is subtle, full of love. 

He nods, kisses you again, pulls you into his body, and, hugging you close, repeats, “For always.” 

P.S. notes: I try to keep my reader character inclusive, and this is a bit more specific than I usually do. I just want to acknowledge that everyone relates to their bodies, especially if they’re bigger, in different ways, and I in no way think of anything I write as a generalized take on being plus sized (or any other experience really). These are just things that I have felt in my life, and it has always meant a lot to me to see and hear stories about bigger characters, both when attention is brought to that specific aspect about them and when it isn’t. So, this is my way of adding to that and to write something for myself in that vein. 

#marauders #marauder x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #smut #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #plus size!reader #fem!reader #reader insert #david bowie #ria250 #fanfiction

[rorilisa]

His Color

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (no y/n used)

Summary: After a conversation with a certain god of mischief leads to a bold claim that he owns the color green, the reader puts it to the test with her very own green dress. And when he finally sees her in said dress… months of flirtatious comments and sexual tension may finally reach a breaking point. (This was inspired loosely by the song “Green Green Dress” from tick, tick boom, specifically the bonus track version because it is *chefs kiss*)

Warnings and such: swearing, potential future smut, sexual tension, sexual themes, potentially some slight angst, this is one of those “everyone’s alive and living together” AU’s, other characters have cameos, i tried to keep the readers description vague so she’d fit everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

Word Count: 3k

Mornings at the Avengers compound tended to be slow and quiet, the normally hyperactive heroes catching up on as much greatly deserved sleep as they possibly could. On a normal morning, only a handful of the team could even be found out of bed before 7 o’clock, but for some reason a certain hero in training sits with her coffee at the bar top of an empty kitchen. She sips silently, sitting with only the rising sun as her light as she attempts to wake her fuzzy mind. She doesn’t expect anyone to stumble into the kitchen at this hour, which is why when a hand lands gently on her shoulder, a startled yelp leaves her lips. She whips around quickly, coffee forgotten on the counter as she readies herself to fight this unknown enemy in the early morning light. Instead of a dangerous enemy, she meets the green eyes of the equally dangerous god of mischief. 

“Shit Loki, you scared me half to death.” She sighs out tiredly, turning back to her coffee as the raven haired male makes his way around the bar to get his own coffee, a proud smirk on his lips. 

“Yes, I see that.” He chuckles and turns to face her, leaning back against the kitchen counter next to the coffee maker as he waits for his cup to brew. “And what exactly are you doing up at this hour?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” She quips back, a tired smirk making its way onto her face as well. The way they fall into easy banter so quickly used to startle her, but after so many months of it, it's almost become a routine between the two of them. Loki hums and picks up his mug without turning his attention away from her. 

“You could, but I asked you first.” She rolls her eyes and huffs in fake annoyance at his childish response.

“Couldn’t sleep anymore. I have a lot on my mind.” She responds simply before bringing the mug back to her lips. Loki nods in understanding, and she has to fight a loving smile when he doesn’t push her to explain. That’s one of the many things she’s grown to like (love?) about Loki; he doesn’t pry about personal matters. He knows that she would share if she wanted to.

“Are you looking forward to Stark’s little gathering tomorrow?” He redirects the conversation easily as he walks back around the bar and takes the stool beside her. She fights the urge to groan and instead settles for another sigh.

“I forgot about that… I don’t have anything to wear.” She complains and lowers her head to rest it on the cool bar top. Loki chuckles and shakes his head in response to her dramatics. 

“Nothing? I find that hard to believe.” 

She huffs and raises her head. “This isn’t just any gathering, Loki. This is Stark's annual charity banquet. Practically all of New York is going to be there. So yes, I have nothing to wear.” She nearly cries when she realizes she’ll have to go shopping, her early morning brain incapable of imagining the stressful scenario that is dress shopping in busy New York City. The young hero goes silent as she thinks about what kind of styles or colors she might want, but she quickly loses her train of thought when she sees Loki watching her. There’s an unreadable but strong emotion in his emerald eyes, and it almost sends a shiver down her spine. 

“What?” She asks self consciously, and the god only shakes his head with a small smile.

“Nothing. What are you thinking about?” His quick redirection causes her to narrow her eyes, but she goes along with the new flow of conversation.

“What I’m going to buy for this stupid thing.” Her normal style wouldn’t work for such a high end gathering, and seeing as this would be her first year attending, she didn’t even know where to begin finding an outfit. “I’d normally wear something safe like a black dress, or maybe something red if I was feeling bold, but that feels so… basic. Like easy options. And this thing is basically Stark’s version of the Met Gala so I can’t go with the basics.”

Loki nods along as the girl beside him rants, before ultimately shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Once you find your perfect color-” he gestures down at his emerald green sweater, “-you’ll find it’s much easier picking outfits.” He chuckles softly, and she narrows her eyes at him.

“Well maybe I’ll wear green.” She states, crossing her arms over her chest in a playful defiance. “You don’t own the color, you know?”

Loki scoffs and places a hand over his own chest, almost as if in indignation at her statement. “Darling, when you look as good in it as I do, you do in fact own it.” His signature smirk takes up residence on his face again, and she tries not to pay too much attention to the way her cheeks heat up at the pet name. 

“Oh please. You’ll see.” She smiles confidently and raises her chin. “We’ll find out who green really belongs to tomorrow night.” His eyes narrow at her this time as he weighs the unspoken challenge in his mind.

“Yes, I suppose we will.” He stands from his stool and lowers his head in a quick bow. “Until then.” He lifts his head and meets her eyes with a mischievous grin before turning smoothly and gliding away. She has to fan her face to calm the rising heat on her cheeks and neck, but she smiles down at her coffee with renewed vigor. With a point to prove and a god to awe, she thought that perhaps this shopping trip wouldn’t be as dreadful as she feared.

**********************

The night of Stark’s charity banquet approached rather quickly, and as Loki stood in front of his mirror making sure all the pieces of his suit were in place, he couldn’t help but think about the early morning chat he’d had with the young trainee. He felt excitement rush through him at the thought of her, and he quickly replaced the dopey smile on his face with a confident smirk. 

“None of that.” He told himself, as if his feelings were ever something that tended to listen to him. After fixing up the final touches of his suit and incredibly flattering corset vest, he brushes back his hair with a smug smirk before making his way out of his room and to the elevator that’s already filled with finely dressed Avengers. His eyes quickly scan the group of people for the girl that has taken over his thoughts, but instead he only finds various residents of the compound, some of which shift further away when he enters the small space. Loki lets out an exasperated sigh and leans against the far wall of the elevator, where he also sees a familiar super-soldier assassin. “Good evening Sergeant Barnes.”

The man looks up at Loki at the call of his name and greets him with a tired smile. “Good evening,” Bucky responds in his deep rumbly voice, fidgeting absentmindedly with the end of his left sleeve and the leather glove covering his metal hand. “Surprised to see you’re going to this thing.”

Loki chuckles and nods. “I wasn’t sure I was going to,” is his simple reply.

“Well, what changed?”

The god tilts his head as he thinks of an answer, the only one he seemingly can conjure up consisting of someone’s bright flirtatious smile, beautiful eyes, and the promise of seeing her in his color. 

“Thought it might be good for my image. To be seen around, socializing, being a generally good samaritan.” Although his answer was somewhat truthful, it was not the real reason he was going, nor was it something he really cared about all that much. “What about you? I did not imagine I’d be seeing you at any social gathering this large either.”

The ex-assassin nods and clears his throat, his blue eyes filled with sincerity when they meet Loki’s green ones. “Same reason as you, I guess…” 

Loki nods in understanding, feeling sympathy for the broken man standing beside him. “Well, I wish you a successful evening.” He responds as the elevator doors slide open and he begins to make his way out into the beautifully decorated ballroom. He nearly rolls his eyes, because of course Stark built a ballroom in this compound. 

“Yeah, you too.” Bucky claps the god on the shoulder before offering him a tight smile and making his way over to the large bar in the corner of the massive room. 

Loki begins scanning the expansive space, telling himself he’s only taking in the white and gold decorations and the balcony that’s already beginning to fill with people, but he knows that he’s really looking for her. He begins to walk along the edge of the dance floor where more tables are situated for guests, taking in the band that’s setting up on the stage at the end of the empty floor and the steadily growing noise of the guests chattering away. A buzzing headache begins to form in his temples, and Loki suppresses a groan. He wishes she’d just show up already to ease the pain like she always does, and a startled huff leaves his lips.

“I need a drink.” He mumbles to himself before making his way to the bar and leaning against the counter. “Red wine.” Midgardian alcohol did not affect him in the slightest, but he had found he quite liked the taste of it after a late night draining a bottle with her on the roof of the compound. Ever since then, he had imagined what her lips would have tasted like with the wine lingering on them.

“Here you are sir.” The bartender hands him the glass, startling him out of his rapidly spiraling train of thought. Loki shakes his head as if to clear the thought away and takes a large sip of his drink, his eyes beginning to once again search for her. 

Several glasses and many awkward attempts at conversation later, and Loki feels himself becoming increasingly more frustrated at her lack of attendance. He thinks that maybe she could not find a suitable outfit for the challenge and decided to just bail, but that thought causes a sting in his heart. No, he thinks. She wouldn’t abandon me like that. 

The band begins to play a slow, sultry waltz and Loki turns to the bartender to order his sixth glass of wine. It is at this moment, with his back turned to the entrance that he hears a call of her name accompanied with a loud whistle from Sam Wilson. 

“My lady! You look absolutely stunning!” Thor’s loud voice echoes through the ballroom, and every guest snaps their head in the direction of the noise. Unlike the hoards of people in the room, Loki takes his time turning his head to her, almost as if he’s preparing himself for the sight that awaits him. And when his eyes finally lock on her figure, he knows that no amount of time could have prepared him. 

She walks into the ballroom gracefully, the silky emerald dress clinging to her body in the most flattering way, her curves being perfectly hugged by the soft fabric. A long slit in the skirt starting at the floor and ending at her upper thigh leaves little to the imagination and perfectly accentuates her leg. The emerald color of the dress matches his own signature green to perfection, and he has to focus on keeping the heat in his cheeks and the spark of pride that goes straight from his heart down to his groin at bay. 

“Oh Norns…” Loki breathes out quietly. Her eyes search the crowd for him, and once she finds him a large, proud smirk falls upon her colored lips, lips that are the same color as the wine he so desperately wants to taste on them. She begins gliding towards him like some kind of seductive goddess, and despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to wipe the look of awe off of his face. 

“Hello Loki.” Even her voice seems to draw him in, and she continues approaching until they’re standing toe to toe, only a breath apart. Her eyes scan him up and down, taking in the perfectly tailored black suit (although he’s beginning to worry that his trousers may be too tight) along with the cinched green corset vest.

“You look good.” She praises softly, another dangerous smirk accompanying her lips as she raises up on her tiptoes and whispers right by his ear, “I look better.” 

And he couldn’t agree more, but for some reason, his normal witty remarks seem to be stuck in the back of his throat. He only watches her with unrestrained admiration like he’s looking at a beautiful work of art, before holding his hand palm up. 

“Dance with me,” he manages to say in a steady voice, though it takes all of his willpower to do so. A bright, genuine smile lights up her face, one that nearly knocks him off his feet as she slides her hand into his. 

“It would be my honor.” She giggles before turning and dragging him onto the dance floor, the sensual waltz still playing. She turns to face him again and raises a hand to rest it on his shoulder as he slowly slides his along her waist to rest it on her lower back. He takes her right hand in his left and begins gliding across the floor with her to the music. She lets out a nervous chuckle, and although she’s not a bad dancer, it’s clear she’s having a hard time keeping up with his well practiced steps.

“Sorry-” she starts to apologize, but she’s cut off by her own yelp of surprise when he wraps his arm tighter around her waist and lifts her up until her feet are standing on his toes. The two of them waltz effortlessly now, dancing across the floor so smoothly, it’s as if they are floating just above the ground.

“Better?” He asks softly, a joyful glint in his eyes. She nods in response, and looks up at him with the same bright smile. With their bodies pressed together, hand in hand, chest to chest, it’s almost as if their heartbeats become one, the rhythms intertwining with the sound of the band and the blossoming of a feeling so intense it makes Loki forget they are surrounded by people watching their every move. 

“So… I win right?” The question pulls Loki out of his thoughts and he lets out a deep, genuine laugh, a sound so rare for him but one so commonly associated with her now. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, I believe you did.” She smiles triumphantly and lets out a laugh of her own.

“I better have. This dress was ridiculously expensive.” He chuckles at her and shakes his head, his eyes once again scanning her figure and her features with a myriad of emotions in the deep green depths. 

“My darling, it is not the dress that has won you this victory.” His eyes trail up to hers, pausing for a few moments too long on her wine red lips. She holds his gaze, her lips parting and her cheeks flushing at his comment. They fall into a silence as they stare at each other, the band beginning to play a different song but neither of them seem to notice. Loki stops waltzing, instead only swaying with her in his arms as his face leans closer to hers.

“You- I don’t-” She stammers over her words and laughs weakly at herself as they both move closer, the tips of their noses brushing against each other. Her eyelids are hooded as she breathes out, “I want to kiss you.”

That’s all it takes for Loki to press his lips firmly to hers, months of pining and desperate attempts at silent confessions pouring into the kiss. His arm tightens around her waist and her hand moves from his shoulder to his hair, tugging gently at the raven strands and pulling a growl from his throat. They kiss until she has to pull back for air, a happy giggle leaving her no longer perfectly painted lips.

“Took you long enough.” Loki finally opens his eyes at the statement and lets out a breathy laugh. 

“Took me long enough? I feel as though I have been very apparent in my desires.” He quirks a brow at her and smirks, sure that there are marks of her lipstick on his lips and the thought makes his head spin.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, using her thumb to wipe some of her lipstick from his bottom lip. “Sure you were.” He silently takes in her flushed cheeks and soft smile, studying her with a gentle love, but also with something much deeper, something more hungry. 

“So, green’s mine now, right?” She tilts her head and smiles innocently at him. He chuckles darkly, his grip on her waist tightening as he presses her even tighter to his lithe figure.

“Oh hardly. Perhaps this was only an excuse to see you in my color.” He hums out in a low voice, and with the hand he has on her back he can feel the shiver that runs down her spine. “But… perhaps I could be persuaded to allow it to be our color, yes?”

“Persuaded how?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper, but their close proximity allows Loki to hear her perfectly. He responds at first with another dark chuckle, moving so his lips are right by her ear in a way that mirrors what she did earlier as he responds in a deep whisper. 

“I’ll show you.”

a/n: this is the first fanfic i’ve ever posted aahhh! i hope you liked it! feedback would be GREATLY appreciated. this is unedited and probably has a few errors haha sorry about that. i’m considering writing a second (smutty) part to this so let me know if i should~ oh and, here’s a link to the corset vest i imagined loki in, but feel free to imagine it any way you’d like. https://innovacorsetry.com/products/corset-vest

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #first fic #loki smut #avengers #everyones alive bc i said so #bucky barnes #thor odinson #sam wilson #tony stark #new fanfic #pining #are we about to kiss #green green dress #loki is a simp

[wwinterwitch]

ST CHARACTERS + TAYLOR SWIFT SONGS

summary: taylor swift songs that represent what a relationship with these characters might be like

includes: robin buckley, steve harrington, eddie munson, nancy wheeler, jonathan byers (no pronouns used for the reader, except some references to a fem!reader in the lyrics)

warnings/what to expect: fluff and angst, romantic pairings, happy and sad songs

note: Keep in mind this is just for fun, if i didn’t put your fav song for one specific character don’t come for me please. If you think other Taylor songs can fit these characters you can always put them in the comments!! I’d love to see what other songs reminds you of them.

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

main masterlist | stranger things masterlist

ROBIN BUCKLEY

     — YOU BELONG WITH ME She feels like a total loser around you, thinking you're way out of her league. And it hurts because she whole-heartedly believes no one will ever treat you the way she would. She can read you like a book, knows all your favorite movies and songs, and knows how to make you feel better when you're sad. It’s frustrating because she knows she can make you very happy, yet she doesn’t have the chance to.

I can see her comparing herself to other people a lot before you start dating, secretly longing for you to notice her feelings for you. More often than not, others would catch her creating fake scenarios in her head involving the two of you being in a relationship.

Most likely you’d make the first move since she honestly thinks you would never like her back. And when she does realize you like her, she’ll be over the moon with excitement.

most meaningful line: “dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.”

     — BEGIN AGAIN Robin would be your biggest fan, so she really wouldn't care about the way you dress, what music you like, the books you enjoy...she's a fan of every little detail about you and she'll encourage you to be yourself. And she’ll be just so supportive of you, making you feel unique and special just the way you are.

She wouldn't change a thing about you, being that type of lover that fully connects with who you are and that admires you unconditionally. Truly, you’ve never been loved the way she loves you.

most meaningful line: “cause you throw your head back laughing like a little kid, I think it’s strange that you think I’m funny cause he never did.”

     — MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE Robin is the type of person that is terrified of reaching out, so if she likes you she'll most likely drop subtle hints to let you know she's interested but never fully confess it. She'll remember random things you tell her, learn what you like or don't like, and then try to impress you with her knowledge about things you like. Basically, she’ll do whatever helps you realize she likes you.

Telling you directly? Not a chance. She'll get too nervous and mess everything up. It's better for her to be subtle about it and hope you realize soon enough so you can make the first move.

most meaningful line: “feeling like a face in the crowd, I’m reaching for you terrified.”

     — DANCING WITH OUT HANDS TIED Since the moment Robin fell in love with you, she knew she couldn’t have the perfect fairy tale story other couples have. She couldn’t hold your hand in public, kiss you whenever she wanted, show how much she loves you for the whole world to see. You sadly lived surrounded by people that wouldn’t understand.

But you showed her you don’t care about keeping it a secret if it means being with her. You don’t care about anything but her. 

No matter how insecure Robin would get, you’re always there to remind her your love for each other is worth it despite the hate you might get if the town found out about the two of you. And you give her hope. You make her feel like she is living in her perfect fairy tale despite all of it.

most meaningful line: “I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us. So, baby, can we dance, oh, through an avalanche?”

     — DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS If you two ever break up, this song would definitely describe what the heartbreak would feel like. I feel like Robin is a very dedicated lover, offering her entire heart, body and soul to you (that’s why she’s so terrified of making the first move, trying to spare herself of getting her heart broken). Her love is passionate, naive and blind, being both a virtue and a curse.

She’ll have a hard time trying to get over you. Absolutely everything would remind her of you or the relationship you two had. Her heart would break all over again when she sees you walking down the street, not being able to handle the fact that you’re not hers anymore.

most meaningful line: “you said it was a great love, one for the ages, but if the story’s over why am I still writing pages?”

STEVE HARRINGTON

— CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS Steve seems like the guy who would say certain things without taking a second to think about the impact of his words before actually saying them. He could say that you're the person he wants to spend his entire life with when his feelings for you aren't even that strong.

He doesn't do it on purpose. He knows firsthand what it feels to be lied to by your partner. Instead, he does it because he genuinely doesn't want to hurt you. Steve much rather lie than knowingly breaking your heart.

I feel like he's aware of this flaw, but has no idea when it's happening or how to control it, just recognizes the problem once the damage is already done. And he'd feel terrible for hurting someone he claims to care for just because he can't connect with his feelings and be responsible about the things he promises or tells to a significant other.

And he knows they deserve better than him.

most meaningful line: “love slipped beyond your reaches, and I couldn't give a reason.”

— MR. PERFECTLY FINE Because he doesn't think before he speaks, I feel like this song also explains how he can say things he doesn't really mean and break someone's heart because of it. He'll realize he made a mistake way too late and by that apologies are not enough.

I feel both songs represent a similar situation, but it varies on what the outcome is. Whether Steve just broke the heart of nicest person he has ever met and feels absolutely terrible for hurting someone who didn't deserve that; or Steve got to close with you when he wasn't really looking for something serious, and when he tells you what is going on you dump his ass and recent him for being so inconsiderate with other people's feelings, and him completely ignoring you forever because he's too ashamed to face you for what he did.

most meaningful line: “and i never got past what you put me through, but it's wonderful to see that it never fazed you.”

— RED I think dating Steve would be a Rollercoaster. The sweet moments are the happiest, and the sad ones are just awful. Everything means more and hurts more when it comes to him.

But that's the beauty of loving Steve, because it's so passionate that neither of you can get enough of your relationship. It's a fight worth fighting until the very end. And you can learn to love him even in the darkest of times, with the bad days and the good days, with the loving and the fighting.

With this in mind, I feel like it would take a lot of time to get over a boyfriend like Steve. Because he is caring, extremely funny, super loyal, dedicated, passionate...it's hard to forget someone who made you feel so much.

most meaningful line: “regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong.”

— FEARLESS This sounds exactly like what falling in love with Steve must be like. I see you two being the classic pair of friends that clearly have romantic feelings for each other but neither realize at first.

As you spend more time together you both get more comfortable around each other, finding the courage to brush the other's hand by accident or hugging just a little longer than necessary. By the time you finally realize he likes you back, you two are sharing the first of many kisses.

And the relationship is just the cutest because Steve would be such a dedicated boyfriend, you'll be very happy with him and the little improvised dances in a market's aisle, the riding around town at midnight with a mixtape of songs you both enjoy playing in the background, the fact that he doesn't seem to run out of new jokes that never fail to make you laugh and just all the love this man will give you.

most meaningful line: “run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.”

     — OUR SONG This song is as pure as what I think Steve would be as a boyfriend. You two would drive around town, he’d sneak into your bedroom almost every night, and overall you two would be inseparable. 

And everything would be so special, every little aspect of your relationship would mean the absolute world to him. Neither of you needed big demonstrations of love to know how the other feels. It’s evident in the way you’d laugh at all his silly jokes and the way his eyes light up every time he sees you.

You don’t need big gestures with Steve, falling more and more in love with him with so little.

most meaningful line: “our song is the way you laugh, the first date “man, I didn’t kiss her when I should have”.”

EDDIE MUNSON

     — PAPER RINGS This song just screams Eddie to me. I feel like the moment you meet him, you won’t be able to get enough of him. He’ll be so charismatic and funny, you’ll have a hard time forgetting a guy like him.

And then everything will be just so special when you two finally start dating. He’ll be the best boyfriend ever to you, always making you feel loved and cared for, like you’re the most wonderful thing that has ever existed.

You’re so in love, you don’t care about what others say or think about him. All you care about is Eddie. To make him feel as loved and special as you do. 

Eddie would propose to you right after he graduates, already wanting to get the hell out of Hawkins with you and start a family somewhere else. And of course you say yes, and it doesn’t matter that you don’t get a big proposal, a huge wedding or the house of your dreams, because with Eddie by your side you already have it all. You wouldn’t want to live those moments with anybody else.

most meaningful line: “I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays. Wrap your arms around me, baby boy.”

     — INVISIBLE This can go either way depending on what type of person you are. If you’re this social and outgoing person, Eddie would most likely feel insecure around you because you have so many friends that probably don’t even like him, so maybe he’ll avoid talking to you despite having a massive crush on you. Therefore, I feel like this song would describe exactly how he feels towards you whenever he sees you around, thinking to himself you probably think he’s just another weirdo you’d never turn to look at twice.

But if you’re this shy and socially awkward person, I feel like this would describe how you feel towards him. Eddie is an extrovert. He loves being loud and making a scene whenever he can to seem intimidating, so most likely you won’t dare talking to someone like him. You would much rather stare at him from a distance, not doing anything about the way you feel about him.

Either he’s the invisible one who secretly wants you, too afraid to talk to you because of what you might think of him; or it’s you the one hiding in the shadows, thinking someone like him would never notice someone like you.

most meaningful line: “and all I think about is how to make you think of me and everything that we could be.”

     — SPARKS FLY This song perfectly describes what it would be like to date Eddie when literally everyone around you tells you not to. Because how could someone willingly date the weirdest guy in Hawkins, too obsessed with D&D and metal music to care about graduating? You’ve never cared about those types of comments, because they come from people that don’t know Eddie like you do. 

Also rockstar!Eddie kind of? Perfect song to hear while going on tour with your boyfriend and his band.

most meaningful line: “I run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild.”

     — KING OF MY HEART I feel like falling in love with Eddie quite literally hits you like a truck. It’s unexpected and everything happens so fast, and now without realizing your cuddling with him in his bed wearing nothing but your underwear and his Hellfire t-shirt, wondering how you were able to live without him for all these years.

And you fall for him hard. No one else could ever compare to him. No one has ever make you feel the way you do with him, and you doubt someone ever will. It’s all about him, and you just can’t get enough.

Also, this feels like the perfect song for the cheerleader/loser trope and I can’t stop thinking about how the lyrics just scream Eddie to me.

most meaningful line: “is this the end of all the endings? my broken bones are mending with all these nights we’re spending up on the roof with a school girl crush.”

     — THIS IS ME TRYING I can easily see Eddie being super insecure in a relationship because he’s grown thinking he doesn’t really deserve good things happening to him. That he’s a coward trying to act like a hero. Therefore, maybe he’ll break things off with you because, in his mind, he’s a complete disaster you shouldn’t have to put up with.

But then he’ll realize letting you go was a big mistake. That he finally had a good thing in his life and he pushed it away. Not the people talking shit about him or because he’s stuck in senior year again. It’s his fault.

This song would reflect how he’d feel trying to get you back. How everything is his fault because he chooses to hear what everyone else tells him rather than take control of his own life, and how he’s ready to own up to those mistakes. And maybe you won’t take him back and that’s okay. He’ll be content knowing you forgive him for hurting you. Perhaps you don’t want to be with him anymore, but he just wants you to know he’s trying to be better.

most meaningful line: “I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that.”

NANCY WHEELER

     — I WISH YOU WOULD I feel like Nancy can be a little impulsive and stubborn, and both qualities can be extremely useful for some situations, but when it comes to your relationship it really wasn’t helpful at all.

She’d break up with you over a late-night phone call in the middle of a fight, only to regret it immediately after she hangs up. And then she’ll wait for you to reach out, her hopes dying more and more everyday because you never did.

And then she’d blame herself for waiting when she should’ve acted before it was too late. Before you two stopped talking entirely and she never got to make it right with you, keeping to herself everything she should’ve said to you that night.

most meaningful line: “I wish we could go back and remember what we were fighting for.”

     — HOW TO GET THE GIRL I think Nancy would be a hopeless romantic, even when she doesn’t want to show it that much. Therefore, she’d love every time you do some crazy movie-like gesture for her. She’d chuckle as her cheeks turn a light shade of red when she sees you standing outside her house in the middle of the night with a gift for her. You’d make her feel butterflies when you offer your jacket when it’s cold or hold the door for her. She’d tell you how much she loves you when you stay all night talking to her on the phone whenever she can't sleep.

And because everything is movie-like, I feel like this song portraits how difficult it can be for Nancy to forgive you if she ever gets mad at you. You really need to stand outside in the rain and proclaim your love for her. Of course she’d immediately forgive you, falling even harder for you because she’d never been with someone that really goes that extra mile for her.

most meaningful line: “remind her how it used to be, with pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks.”

     — LONG STORY SHORT Nancy will be your number one protector. No one can mess with her partner, or else they'll have to face the consequences. She's a strong force, willing to fight whoever dares to hurt you. And you know she'll always be your safe place to run to if things get complicated.

Nancy will be such a great girlfriend, she'll make you feel like all the other people that came before her were just there to prepare you for the best: her. She’ll always have your back.

most meaningful line: “when I dropped my sword, I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door.”

     — ENCHANTED Okay, I don’t know why I keep seeing everything with Nancy happening so much like a movie, but I can totally see the two of you flirting with each other all night, maybe at a party or a reunion at the Wheeler’s because your parents are friends, staring at each other and her blushing when you two bump into each other whenever one of you tried to walk inside the room just when the other was trying to walk out, or when you accidentally brushed hands when she handed you a glass of water.

And neither of you could stop yourselves from smiling like idiots and barely having any sleep that night because you replayed everything in your head over and over. Both of you spend hours trying to figure out if this exchange was mutual or not. To know if the other felt the same way.

most meaningful line: “the playful conversation starts, counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy.”

     — I BET YOU THINK ABOUT ME I feel like Nancy has very big dreams for the future and wants to leave everything behind, which never fails to make you feel terrible because you can’t help but think she’s unhappy in Hawkins with you.

She'd always think leaving would be easy because whatever is out there is better than this small town. She even feels guilty sometimes, finding herself thinking it won't be hard to live without you because the life she has planned for herself sounds too good to replace it for the one she loves. It's an opportunity she just can't lose.

But after she moves out and breaks up with you, she realizes letting you go has to be the worst decision of her life. She failed to see what she had until it was too late.

most meaningful line: “Does it make you feel sad that the love that you're looking for is the love that you had?”

JONATHAN BYERS

     — THE 1 With Jonathan moving to California and him being just the worst at communicating, I can see him breaking up with you in just the worst way possible. Whether it's at the very end of a phone call or even a letter, I feel he can be very insensitive about it because he just doesn't know how to deal with breakups. He’s not even sure if he wants to break up in the first place, but it felt like the right thing to do now that you two are so far away.

That would evidently leave you heartbroken and hating him because you really didn’t deserve it. And even when you finally move on, the what-ifs would always remain, especially after he breaks up with you so suddenly, without explanation, without room to talk.

You truly thought Jonathan was the one for you, and now that he’s not, you’re not sure what’s next in store for you.

most meaningful line: “I persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?”

     — THE STORY OF US Similar to the last one, Jonathan really has to work on communicating his feelings. Ever since he moved to California, he’s been feeling like the two of you are more and more distant with each other. That you barely have time for him anymore, and that perhaps you already met someone new that’s keeping you preoccupied.

But instead of talking, he just assumes. And that’s so much worse than facing you and talk things over, because he comes up with random scenarios of things you are and aren’t doing, torturing himself with them. 

And you’re no better, also deciding to stay quiet instead of talking things through, which leaves the two of you in this constant uncertainty of “are we okay?” “are we still together?” “is this the end?” “what is going on?”. You both suffer in silence, longing for one another, watching as your relationship crumbles right before your eyes.

most meaningful line: “this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less, but I liked it better when you were on my side.”

     — MARY’S SONG (OH MY MY MY) Leaving aside the miscommunications and the moving away, I honestly feel like being in a relationship with Jonathan would feel like this song. He seems like the type of guy you’d love forever, meeting from a young age and being inseparable ever since, getting married and forming a family together. Everyone around you would watch as the two of you grow up and begin realizing you are in love with each other. And he could perfectly remember the look on Joyce’s face when he finally told her he wanted to ask you out. She knew all along you two would end up together.

Everything will be sweet and magical. Like a love you only thought existed in movies, but you managed to find that in him. A loyal, dedicated, caring and committed lover who would do anything to make it right to you, to make you happy. I have no words, this is just the purest type of love ever.

Most meaningful line: “take me back when our world was one block wide, I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried. Just two kids, you and I.”

     — YOU ARE IN LOVE This is another song that represents what the good side of a relationship with Jonathan might feel like. Just pure love for each other.

I can see it being sort of a slow-burnish type of relationship, starting as friends before you both realize you don’t want to be friends. And it would be so special because there’s no need to say it out loud. You both can see the other falling just as hard in the little comments each of you make, or the small gestures that mean the entire world when they come from the right person.

You find love in the little things, the stuff most people ignore. And that’s what makes your love for Jonathan so special.

most meaningful line: “he says “look up’ and your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch, but you felt enough.”

     — ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY For a messy break up, I feel like this represents what experiencing that with him must be like. I can see him getting insecure about his feelings or the relationship in general and maybe pushing you away (with or without his realizing it), starting to avoid you or randomly canceling dates with the worst excuses you’ve ever heard, until you’ve had enough and finally break up with him.

And then he’ll realize he screwed up and try to get you back, but you’re quick to tell him everything would’ve been so easy if he just stayed with you instead of pushing you away every time you tried to reach out to work things out.

most meaningful line: “people like you always want back the love they pushed aside, but people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye.”

#robin buckley x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #taylor swift #song fics #taylor swift songs #stranger things #stranger things x reader

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

I have been thinking about Metalocalypse and Gods/Demons more lately.

The prophecy was always slated to take place, the universe was determined about that and presumably The Whale/Goddess/Queen Alive had some sway in making sure things played out how they needed to.

Which I want to say I think Metalocalypse shows a sort of casual cruelness with Gods and Demons in an almost innocent way? They do things typically using humans as tools or puppets to move along to a greater goal they need to reach with no real concern about the comfort or wellbeing of the human pawns.

So because we know Nathan did indeed have to suffer. A lot to create the song of salvation he was the one to remember Doomstar Requiem which for me makes so much fucking sense.

Nathan can draw from what happened that night to create the SOS, but if Murderface remembered being possessed he would have been fucked up sooner, Toki would have been so fucked up he couldn’t have performed same for Skwisgaar and Pickles. Extra trauma would not have pushed the four of them to create, but Nathan as the voice of the band he as far as She sees it needs it.

But mostly I have thought about how these people got to where we meet them in the show.

Charles surely wouldn’t have wanted to manage a group of rowdy teen boys, but something compelled him and that same thing made him so intensely loyal to them that he killed Melmord to keep his place in their lived, he was a pawn in all of this to die for them and become the Dead Man.

If Skwisgaar had had a good childhood he never would have run away and found his guitar, he wouldn’t have spent all his money on guitar lessons and all his time playing to escape the stress at home.

If Toki hadn’t been abused so intensely he wouldn’t have found his guitars or met Runke, he never would have had that final push that caused him to leave and find a place he belongs.

Nathan had the most normal home life so we know his thing was different. We know he had dreams growing up about a band in shadows and became super obsessed with finding them and then just deciding to start the band in his dreams himself.

Even Murderface’s dad’s breakdown most likely was due to the prophecy, to Her. His parents died horribly before he could ever know them and he was raised by a horribly bitter cruel woman who blamed him for it.

Pickles and Seth if we’re being honest neither had a good childhood. It’s almost like She was okay with either becoming a part of the prophecy but Pickles was the one who won while Seth always mentions his intense violent jealousy of Pickles and this feeling he should be the one where Pickles is, because She never cared. Just so long as one brother played the part but the other would forever be tormented by the feeling of never being whole.

Even Rockzo was picked. It is so fucking weird as a little kid he found Mashed Potato Johnson’s album, that listening to it specifically led to the clown haunting him and tormenting him, driving this literal child insane to the point he tried to slit his own wrists in the bath. Then caves in, devotes himself to being the clown, joining a band, fucking up being in a band and then coincidentally meeting Toki when Toki starts regressing in season one. It is like She knew this kid specifically, that Toki would have suffered so much because he had to but She would have to cause a whole person to essentially become his comfort object to keep him grounded.

Do I think She had anything to do with Magnus being an abusive asshole? That I genuinely am at a toss up for especially because after being kicked out She would have no use for him at all and if She made him crazy temporarily just so he would be kicked out of Dethklok then She wouldn’t have kept him in that state of rage for so long since his future actions nearly killed Toki and ruined the entire prophecy.

Gods don’t seem to do oversights.

Like I really love the dawning realization watching the show again how so many fucking things are deliberate. Even like I have said before how the Tribunal exaggerated shit about Dethklok to make Crozier angry and paranoid about the band. Realizing and noticing post movie they clearly didn’t believe anything they told Crozier, they just said shit and acted scared and angry to get a reaction from him, to keep him compliant.

Like at the end of the day the entire show was basically watching Gods and Demons treat all these human players as Marionette puppets dangling from strings with limited freedoms.

#metalocalypse

[quibbs126]

If you can, could you draw a daughter for rockstar cookie and my oc, cherry limeade cookie? I feel like her name would be cherries jubilee cookie or something.

This one was finished surprisingly fast (I’ll get to your other request eventually, sorry about that), this is Cherry Ice Cookie

“If you hear the chords of an electric guitar strumming in the distance, you might just be hearing the practice session of Cherry Ice Cookie. Being the daughter of a rock legend, it’s only natural that she was baked for the electric guitar. However unlike her singer parents, she doesn’t have much of a voice for the job, so she lets her guitar be her voice. Though one could even argue that her guitar skills make up for far more than any voice could hope to achieve! Any Cookie who’s met her in person will tell you that she’s one of the most relaxed Cookies they’ve met, wondering if she’s even capable of being mad. Perhaps it’s all the shaved ice in her dough that makes her this way. And perhaps because of this nature, she’s content to not be the star of any band, only their guitarist. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from getting a number of guitar solos in the songs!”

“She frequently practices with her keyboard playing sister in the garage.”

Okay I’m gonna be honest, that probably wasn’t one of my best descriptions, mostly because I know very little about how music works. But you got the gist of it, yeah?

Also, said sister is a character @amythecat2001 named Key Lime Cookie, made after I sent her the design, it’s on her account here

Anyways, let’s move on to design notes

So her name comes from shaved ice, though specifically shaved ice with cherry flavoring. Originally I was trying to go for something non-edible or more chemical, since I like to headcanon Rockstar as being made of shaving cream, but I couldn’t think of anything, so I just went with shaved ice

Cherry flavored shaved ice:

So okay, I feel like she’s way more cherry than either of her parents, but I just wanted to keep the theme of her flavor as the main feature, so she’s a lot of pinks and reds. The gradients in her hair are supposed to be reminiscent of the syrup fading into the ice, hence why the top is pink (and also it looks better that way to me)

Her jacket I kind of just ripped straight from Rockstar’s Tower of Adventures sprite. The dress was inspired by a design for some costumes I found somewhere on Google, and I thought it’d work well with the jacket. I made the dress white specifically because you tend to get shaved ice white paper cups or cones. In practice it probably seems unrelated but that’s what I was going for

I was going to give her a cherry necklace originally, but I didn’t think that’d work, so I instead gave her the dots on her dress, which were supposed to look like cherries. Probably could have also put them as pins on her jacket, but whatever, it fills a blank space where it is now

Overall I do quite like her design, and I hope y’all like her as well

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #rockstar cookie #cookie run oc #oc x canon #cherry limeade cookie #fankid #fanchild #cherry ice cookie #my ocs #my art #not my oc #requests #answers

[starleska]

Beach Ken as a mint-condition boxed doll: a heartbreaking Kencanon 💔

Barbie is the kind of movie that’s going to inspire a thousand interpretations, and i wanted to play around with some of the ideas within!! don’t take this too seriously - i do think the Barbies and Kens are more like physical representations of ideas, but it’s still fun to think of them as characters 😉 spoilers for the Barbie movie below!!

so the brilliant @avatarmerida/Allisa came up with this fascinating bit of lore for Ken...that Stereotypical Barbie is not really ‘his’ Barbie, and that Beach Ken really ought to have a Beach Barbie has his counterpart. Allisa posits that Weird Barbie may well be Ken’s original Barbie, prior to her weirdification 👀 check out this behind-the-scenes picture from an apparent deleted scene:

i think this is a marvellous theory that ties up some very interesting things about Ken’s behaviour in comparison to the other Kens, and especially why the other Barbies and Kens seem to be quite comfortable with one another (even if the other Kens also felt rejected enough to follow Beach Ken on his patriarchal bender). we get a lot of Ken’s inner workings and self-loathing in a cover of a song he sings to Barbie, ‘Push’ by Matchbox 20:

'Said, I don't know if I've ever been good enough I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in And I don't know if I've ever been really loved By a hand that's touched me, and I feel like something's got to give'

here we can see that Ken’s deep-seated insecurity isn’t a recent development: he isn’t sure that he has ever been good enough. he makes references to never feeling like he’s been loved ‘by a hand that’s touched me’...this supports Allisa’s idea that Ken has never been played with, or was/is neglected in some way compared to the other Barbies and Kens in Barbieland. i wonder if the ‘rustiness’ he’s referring to is actually his capacity for intimacy. 

if we run with Allisa’s idea of Weird Barbie being Beach Ken’s Barbie, we have to ask: is Ken intellectually cognizant of ‘his’ Barbie being missing, or does he experience this void in a traumatic kind of way - a deep, sinking, emptiness in his gut? the way Ken’s jealousy manifests makes me lean towards the latter, especially with the way that the Barbies and Kens are largely ignorant of how they relate to the dolls that humans play with. here’s a related thought: isn’t it curious how Weird Barbie, the Barbie who has arguably been played with the most, is the one who knows about the human world? this connection seems consistent: the more Stereotypical Barbie was thought about/’played with’ by Gloria as an adult, the more aware she became of the human world. if we take that bit of canon and work backwards, we have to ask...what would happen to a doll who has been played with the least - or was outright neglected? let’s take a look at some more lyrics from ‘Push’:

‘Said I don't know why you ever would lie to me Cause I'm a little untrusting when I think that truth is gonna hurt you And I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me You couldn't stand to be near me When my face don't seem to wanna shine Cause I'm a little bit dirty, oh, well Don't just stand there, say nice things to me' it’s possible that not only is Ken only vaguely aware of why he’s in so much pain: he could be less aware than another Ken with a missing Barbie would be, because he has been played with the least. although the other Kens are about as insecure and dumb as you’d expect from dolls designed to be accessories, our Ken specifically seems to believe there’s something wrong with him: that Barbie hates him and that it’s down to the way he behaves or just is as a Ken. he moves from describing himself as ‘a little bit dirty’ to begging Barbie to do something, say anything that would make him feel good about himself. everything Ken does from his scary jealous-dancing to his upending of Barbieland shows off how badly he wants to be noticed. Ken isn’t just touch-starved: he’s intimacy-starved.

i don’t think this damage is interchangeable with the other Kens; as of the time of writing, it seems that Ken is unique in Barbieland for not having a Barbie as his counterpart. whether or not the other Barbies and Kens were designed to be together, or were paired together during play, it appears that our Ken is the only one without a Barbie who reciprocates his affections in some manner, or understands they are ‘supposed’ to be together. we see this in his song ‘I’m Just Ken’:

'I have feelings that I can't explain Drivin' me insane All my life been so polite But I'll sleep alone tonight Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blond fragility?' those feelings that are driving him insane may not be unique to Beach Ken, but i think either the size of those feelings, or Ken’s capacity for dealing with them, is. the other Kens (notably Simu Liu’s Ken, or ‘Ken 2′) seem relatively well-adjusted (for Kens) until Ken returns with knowledge of the patriarchy. perhaps it’s because we are supposed to focus on Beach Ken’s emotions, but it does seem like our Ken has a disproportionate amount of self-loathing, anxiety, arrogance, and a desire to be loved. why is he like this compared to the other Kens? well, i think that our Ken has the wrong end of the stick. he believes that there is something wrong with him - that he is dirty, defective, or broken in some way - but it’s actually the exact opposite. i think that while his counterpart Barbie - Weird Barbie - was played with and loved a great deal, that our Ken was kept in the box, and has never been played with once. 

what would happen to a doll in Barbieland whose self-esteem and understanding of relationships hinges on the way, or how much, they’re played with? when i say i think Ken is a boxed doll, i don’t mean a collector’s item; i’m inclined to believe if he was, he would be able to feel that love the way Barbie could feel how she was played with. i think it’s more likely he’s still boxed, and was forgotten about and never opened. doesn’t it make sense that Ken has so much rage and self-hatred whilst looking physically ‘perfect’, whilst Weird Barbie is more than content despite her body being so physically altered? there’s nothing to suggest that a boxed doll couldn’t exist in Barbieland, but i wonder what that would do to a doll’s psyche...we’re having a real Toy Story moment 😭 hell, we could take this a step further! the emotionally volatile, restrictive, stunted aspects of Ken’s personality could be down to his never having been played with. this could be why our Ken is so insistent that he isn’t allowed to be on a certain part of the beach. this could be why he considers himself ‘fragile’. this could be why Beach Ken wears his emotions on his sleeve and looks visibly more upset than any of the other Kens. self-actualisation was achieved for both Stereotypical Barbie and Weird Barbie because they were thought about, played with, acknowledged...and above all else, Ken craves acknowledgement from Barbie. he ‘only has a good day if Barbie looks at him’. when Ken tells Barbie, ‘I only exist within the warmth of your gaze’...he means it 💔

that’s the idea!! i hope i’m making sense with my ramblings 🙈 fanfic authors, fanartists and theory-makers, feel free to go nuts with this silly little notion...as much as i adore how terrible and arrogant and sexy Patriarchy!Ken is, i would love to see some stuff exploring this angst and him finally getting all the love and attention he deserves 😖💖

#barbie movie spoilers #ken #gosling!ken #beach ken #barbie #barbie movie #starleskatalks #long post

[thepalmofyourfreezinghand]

The problem here is Taylor’s fandom, and it was in a way caused by her but I don’t blame her because she was a teen who had no way of knowing she would become this successful.

Every single artist writes from experience, some only get a bit inspired by it and some write exactly what their experience was.

But no other artist has people dissecting their songs like people dissect Taylor’s and I think this comes from her writing those secret messages.

She was giving clues for who the song was about which started creating the weird dynamic that this fandom has today. I don’t blame her because she was being a sassy teen and she couldn’t possibly know the consequences. But that’s what, in my opinion, started this fandom’s obsession with clues and Easter eggs as well as the obsession with knowing who each song is about.

I have never listened to a song by Ed Sheeran and thought “who’s this about?”. I’ve listened to Harry Styles songs and realized “oh this is about X person” because his relationships have been more public. But I haven’t sat down to think who every single song is about.

When it comes to Taylor there’s debates about literally every song. Even songs like dancing with our hands tied which I thought was obviously about Joe, some people believed was about Calvin.

I don’t think “the muse” of a song is nearly ad important in any other fandom. And I think that’s also why Taylor gets so much more hate for writing about exes, because it’s become a much bigger deal in her case. She’s a lot more specific than other people, she used to tell fans who the song was about and the fans go out to hate that person.

I think it made sense when she was a teen writing about Sam cheating on her. A guy who wasn’t well known so he wasn’t getting as much hate but who everyone thought was an asshole. Now Taylor doesn’t explicitly say who each song is about but in situations like the current one, people just know. And this fandom lacks any nuance, Taylor never does anything wrong and the other person is always a villain.

I don’t know if my rant made any sense, I don’t think Taylor is doing anything wrong right now, but I do think this weird environment was created when she started putting those clues in songs more than a decade ago. I don’t blame her for it because again, she was a teen who didn’t know better and had no way of knowing just how big she would become, but I think it needs to be acknowledged.

Lastly, some thoughts I want to add on the whole “nuance” and “victim/villain” thing:

- Jake, John and Sam were clearly the “villains”

- Joe Jonas doesn’t get hate anymore but got way too much hate in my opinion. He was 18 and I’m pretty sure Taylor was the one who hung up on him? He was probably trying to break up with her in longer than 25 seconds but she got mad and hung up. They were both dumb teens so, once again, I don’t blame her for what she did but I don’t think he was as bad as people painted him.

- Calvin. Okay, Calvin is clearly an asshole and treated her badly, we all agree. I would have put him in the villain category BUT I need to acknowledge that Taylor has admitted to cheating on him, even if it was emotionally, with either Joe, Tom or both. I think we need to talk about how the fandom went from “No there’s no way she would cheat” to “if she cheated he deserved it”. You can’t be someone who is against cheating and then be okay when Taylor does it.

- Harry. People hate on him for not defending Taylor from his fans, but Taylor has never defended a single one of her boyfriends. And Harry was only 18 when they dated, no one should be expecting maturity from him.

Actual last thing I want to say: when it comes to Taylor and Joe neither is the villain and both are victims. But this fandom can’t entertain the thought of anyone other than Taylor being a victim and her ex being a villain. It’s like those people who say “he’s an asshole” every time q guy breaks up with their friend. But you aren’t an asshole just because you broke up with someone, you should leave if you aren’t happy. And Joe wasn’t even the one who broke up with her. I have seen people dragging him for being a coward and not breaking up with her, when:

1. You would hate on him for breaking up with her and breaking her heart

2. To me the song implies he didn’t realize they had grown apart

This started with the muse thing and ended with a rant about the fandom, it might be super messy and make no sense because I didn’t read it again. But these are pretty much all my thoughts and where I stand. Sorry for the long message

I agree wholeheartedly, anon! Thank you so much for sending this thoughtful analysis!

I think a point can be made that Taylor herself has actually shown quite a bit of compassion for Jake during the release of Red TV, especially regarding the ATW short film. She ended the MV on Jake's perspective and said that you can't help but feel bad for him. And I think that's true. I think, as time passed, she probably realized that he was someone who screwed up and wasn't mature enough to deal with such a complex relationship with a 20 year old who was in a precarious and difficult moment in her life. But I think she shows waaaay more compassion for him than fans are willing to.

#taylor swift

[valentinerose529]

Tag Game: Oc Ship Songs

thanks to @dancinginsepia for the tag, and also for making the tag game!

rules: write about two to five songs from them that represent your a ship between your ocs (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said wip (if possible!) underneath it.

and boy oh boy this is the right tag because you know who's been making playlists and imagining music edits instead of, yknow, actually writing something? this gal!! Anyways, relationship: Coraline and Ixora because I am Unwell over them. They're a bodyguard and a charge that eventually turned into like platonic soulmates sorta thing, in that they know each other so well but still insist to strangers it's only a job. This is gonna be fun to decide on anything because i have pages and pages of backstory but very little current dialogue and interaction written between these two--they've actually spent more time apart and affecting each other's lives than they have interacting on page! (the solution is to write more of them interacting. i'll get back to you on that)

1. Die For You by STARSET This has been an Ixora theme song for like. Years. The man's loyal as hell. And in a relationship like theirs, how do you determine the line between Ixora-specific loyalty or bodyguard-general dedication? He'd follow her into hell if she asked. (She did, once.)

"You promised to protect me," Cory gasped, and the words were a knife in his own heart. "I failed," he replied. Words clawed up his throat, but he couldn't get them out—how could he say what she meant to him? He would have given her everything before today; he made himself her protector because he believed in her. Because he trusted her.

2. If I Killed Someone For You by Alec Benjamin I haven't quite gotten under Cory's skin yet to get a writing handle on how she ticks,but I know she's very self-centered and righteous. I love exploring their dynamic--here's a power imbalance with two irascibly stubborn people on either end--and how much Ixora will simply cede to her rather than arguing. And how far would he go for her without her needing to ask?

“I thought I’ve been banned from your events,” Ixora said, in a tone I’d only ever heard when he was trying to start a fight. “You’ll behave yourself tonight, won’t you?” [asked Louise.] "I'm not coming anyways. I can’t leave Cory; I’m her protector, remember?” "Oh, but you're invited too, Miss [Coraline]." All eyes turned to Coraline. She and Ixora looked at each other. Her eyebrow twitched in question, he set his jaw in response, and Coraline replied smoothly, “If you insist, Miss Louise, then it’s in our best interest to attend.” Ixora’s wings quavered; I couldn’t tell if he had agreed with Coraline or not.

3. House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco This one ends up on a lot of my oc playlists cause everyone's got backstory and lore. But these two for sure really have a plethora of memories together! They know nearly everything about each other--the way they move and fight and their daily rhythms. But when strangers ask, they'll insist it's a strictly professional relationship.

“How do I look?” “Like you walked off the cover of a dime romance. Impractical and useless in a fight,” she added coolly, shutting down Ixora’s dreams. “You flatter me, sweetheart,” he informed her, and tossed an apple at her from behind his back. “Here, I know you skipped breakfast.” He read her thank you in the flick of her ears as she caught it. “Are you all packed?” “Since yesterday. You? That bag of yours doesn’t look big enough.” “I can borrow something of yours if I need.” “See, I knew you’d say that, just like last time, and the time before that, which is why I packed that red shirt you hate.” “God, with the shiny buttons? You’re a menace.” “It means you won’t steal it, yeah?” he shrugged, the movement carrying through his wings.

I ran out of quotes (i really need to write more of this story instead of letting it grow a full-on mold colony in my head) so i couldn't add all the songs i had in mind.

Gentle tagging if you want to participate, plus open tags! if you see it then join in! ♥ @isilee @inked-fables @lame2882 @sarah-sandwich-writes @sabinabardot @eldritchpiper @1legitconnor @nascentmorimur @sam-glade @sparrow-orion-writes @cat-esper

#val rambles #tag game #writeblr tag tame #writeblr #mpm #ocs #oc: ixora #oc: coraline

[somedragongu]

I’ve seen a lot of people say that Frye may secretly been a Salmonling, and I’d like to share my findings on this theory because I reallyyyyy like it.

So the biggest thing I noted is that Frye has highlights on her fingers and toes. Previously this was specific only to Octolings. It is possible that she is half inkling and half octoling, but I remember hearing somewhere that it was confirmed that inkling and octoling hybrids aren’t possible (I couldn’t find anything about this when I researched again recently however, so I may be wrong).

Salmonids however, do have a slight hue shift on their noses seen in the picture below.

Secondly; it was mentioned that her pendant/chain looks different than that of a squid.

I don’t entirely understand this one? It looks pretty squid-like to me, but the 4 holes and the 3 tentacles at the bottom do look slightly off, so I can entertain that theory. Although Salmonid flippers/fins don’t resemble those shapes either, so I don’t see how that really has anything to do with it.

Thirdly; it was mentioned that she has no visible suction cups on her “tentacles”.

I don’t know what this means realistically, but I really do like this point. If she is an Inkling/Octoling, it’s very possible that she was suction cups that just aren’t visible do to the way she’s styled her hair, but if she didn’t have any because salmonid’s don’t, that would also make a lot of sense.

Fourth; in Deep Cut’s song “Anarchy Rainbow”, there is a section that resembles the Grizzco jingle from salmon run. I think this is the biggest piece of evidence in support of this theory, but I could also be do to the increased focus on chaos in the overall story for Splatoon 3, and Salmonids are the greatest form of chaos currently known to Inkopolis.

The fifth point I have is actually in opposition of this theory, and it’s that Frye has incredibly sharp teeth, whereas salmonids have flat, rounded teeth.

A friend of mine pointed out that just because Inklings and Octolings can’t breed, it doesn’t mean that Inklings and Salmonlings can’t breed. Even though this doesn’t have much credence, I admittedly love this point.

So in conclusion to everything I’ve found, if Frye is anything other than an Inkling, it’s possible that she is a salmonling in disguise, or even a half inkling half salmonling.

What do you all thing? I really want to hear what your theories and things you’ve noticed are!

(Also please be nice lol, I’m new to theory crafting)

#Splatoon 3 #Splatoon Frye #Frye #splatoon direct #Splatoon Salmonids #Splatoon Theories #Splatoon inkling #Splatoon octoling #Splatoon salmonling #ok but legit #I love this theory #let me know your thoughts

[andrewwtca]

hello, I am andrewwtca and this is my self-indulgent sunflower seeds analysis

if you don't know, I wrote this sunnflower fanfic called sunflower seeds in the rearview mirror and it is my pride and joy! long story short, Sunny and Basil go on a road trip together and Shit Gets Fucked Up. and I put a lot of metaphors, symbolism, all that jazz in it. like I said, I am so very proud of it,,,

so this, is my analysis of... drum roll please... Sunny's horrible grip on his memory!

my attempt at an introduction

Chapter 1

A part of him wishes he had a CD to keep them both from going crazy in silence but he hasn’t bought one in four years and he isn’t about to bring nursery rhymes with him. The radio signal couldn’t be that bad, right?

(the radio signal is indeed not that bad, Sunny. it's a shame you'll never use it because I completely forget about it)

Sunny has a very selective memory - he's not at all conscious of what he is choosing to remember and forget, much like how he didn't want to forget the incident.

he is also very, very aware that he has missed out on a lot, saying that while everyone around him grew up, he is still a child with nursery rhymes. Sunny has no intentions to 'grow up' however, choosing to remain in this mindset. even when Basil confronts him later on in the bathtub at their motel, saying he's still a child, Sunny makes no direct motion to prove anything else is true, other than saying he's sixteen.

Sunny is aware of the time that he's lost and the time he continues to lose - the first step to gaining that time back is to figure out where he is.

what time is it, anyway?

Chapter 2

Basil looks at the corner of his eye and Sunny settles on the passenger side, glad Basil can't stare at his eye patch. "The Boy Is Mine, Brady and Monica. I think it's popular in our town but nobody has talked to... I-It's popular on the radio. Been topping... Topping charts. The announcer always goes on rants about how popular it is.”

Chapter 2

"Well… Oh, Disney released some new movies! Remember how we used to watch The Little Mermaid under the covers in your living room?"

...

But before he got rid of it, Sunny would always invite his friends to come watch because his set was the best out of all of theirs. They would play video games on Kel's Genesis, which he would lug every weekend, or watch whatever movies they could get their hands on.

When The Little Mermaid was released, the whole group was obsessed with it. That was overtaken by when Aladdin released, but the story about the girl who wishes she could walk on the world struck a chord with them all.

...

"Let's see, Disney released... Lion King and Hercules? I want to think you've seen them but if you haven't... Left, and you don't have a set, how could you have?"

Sunny is struggling to get a grip on time, so he begins to take out specific moments in his memory that references such events. he doesn't do this for the rest of the trip, just at the beginning: he needs to know where he is, what time it is.

he needs to know where in time and space he is, because he's had an ego death or something, his entire identity has just been retconned or something

for the rest of the trip, Sunny does not think about the song or the promise of movies (on that note, Basil doesn't bring them up either, but I'm giving him a pass... for now). his memory doesn't find a need for anything time-relevant anymore.

he knows what the most popular song is now, as he was worried about music before he left. and he was able to not only hear Basil talk, but got to catch up on something brought up. simple and clean problem and resolution.

he knows he's missed out and it left him feeling left out; now, with the promise of being included once again, Sunny no longer feels the need to focus on the names of anything, the dates of anything. his memory has given him an outing as he has solved the first question: what time is it, anyway?

now to the more pressing issue: Basil.

sharing and losing fixations, sharing and losing memories

Sunny is prone to get fixated on things (autistic Sunny supremacy) easily, and those things can change the very thought process of his brain... so, what happens when Basil (re-)introduces Sunny to Greek mythology?

(this is in no way me just projecting how much I like Greek mythology onto them, I swear)

Chapter 5

Things makeshift Greek tragedies have that real Greek tragedies don't:

Basil and Sunny, that's for starters. They don't have an angel of Gaea and an angel of Helios, turn against their own and fly towards each other, burn their wings and leave their nests just to hold each other (or try to);

Chapter 11

“Yeah.” Basil nods and it’s enough to draw Sunny's eye up from the water. Basil doesn’t turn, doesn’t run, and the two of them stare at each other. Study each other, like artists. Maybe they are artists. They created a mess. They created a tragedy. A play—

Chapter 15

Sunny won't let death be how his story ends. He's not a fucking tragedy. He gets his fucking happy ending.

Sunny begins to think in terms of tragedies. he begins to thinks in terms of there is someone bigger tugging at his strings... but why? Sunny knows little about Greek mythology, other than the stories he and Basil used to read as kids, so why get so fixated on it?

it's a horrible attempt to stop the descent of forgetting.

Sunny, to a subconscious level, is aware that there are blanks in his memory. to a subconscious level, he is aware that he keeps missing out... after all, that's the reason why he came.

Chapter 1

The whole point of this is to forget. Or, at least that’s how Basil pitched it to him. And it’s a pretty worthwhile idea, so Sunny is going to do just that. He’s going to sit in the front seat of the old car with a faint scent from the swinging car freshener, and he’s going to think about the street lights flickering over him and he’s going to forget, even if it’s for a bit.

with the intentions of forgetting, Sunny came on this trip - he wants to rekindle with Basil, yes, but how can you do that when there's so much weighing you down? so, Sunny lets himself forget.

oh dear. Sunny, that is a horrible mistake.

Sunny WENT ON THIS TRIP TO FORGET. and then HE BECOMES SHOCKED WHEN HE DOES. oh foolish one, why did you sow?

nonetheless, Sunny must face the consequences of his attempt to forget, directly after going through the biggest fight of his life as a consequence of forgetting (are any of you noticing a cycle?), and it's that by forgetting all the hurtful things, he can barely hold on to the good things.

because existing is all of it. it's the bad, it's the good, and if you reject one, you reject the other.

Chapter 15

...until they’re in the light and running and they can

live.

Live with their sorrow. Live with their hope. Live with their anger. Live with their love.

this realization is not one Sunny has right away. no, we have some pressing issues, such as forgetting: so, Sunny goes on this trip to feel happy (it's literally in the description of the fic) so how is he going to remember?

well, he must trick his brain to associating the bad things with the good.

Basil, through all their conflict, all their hurt, is a good thing in Sunny's life.

Chapter 8

He feels his heart shatter and he whispers, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Basil.”

so, to remember, he begins to associate hardships with something Basil likes: Greek mythology. tragedies, specifically. even when it's something small, Sunny is tricking himself to remember. he's tricking himself to remember the hardships, so that he can live once again.

when things get hard, he wants to escape. so when things get hard, he remembers Basil, Basil's interests, all things that make him happy. and you know what, it works! it works until he is confronted with the horrible truth that he has only remembered a fraction of what has happened.

acceptance

Chapter 2

"I think... There's these traveling stops," Basil says.

Chapter 12

Sunny studies the photo. There’s a small brown building, a rest stop probably, in the way of the sky in brilliant shades of blue. The sun is blurry and Sunny tries to remember where they were but it’s not getting any clearer. It’s like the closer he gets, the more obscured it is. Remembering the truth wasn’t hard—once the pieces were there, he just had to glue them together in order and accept it. There’s nothing for him to accept here, everything so blurred, so obscured, so off.

(don't kill the messenger y'all but I think Basil went to a traveling stop, I know, shocking)

Sunny is not going to be able to remember this moment. there are hundreds of other moments like these, that he just will not be able to remember. he was able to trick his brain before to remember, to remember all the bad things, but there's only so much that it can do. some memories, aren't hidden behind a key, waiting to be unlocked.

some memories, are gone. they were not suppressed, they were just not kept. it's almost similar to the final sequences of the game itself, Sunny going down memory lane: Sunny forgot all these good memories, because he would not accept the bad ones either.

except, Sunny needed those memories to face the underlying truth of Mari's death and his role in it. Sunny needs these memories to move on, to continue to exist, not to actually accept anything.

this is no longer a consequence of his actions—this now feels like a consequence of his existence. this now feels like a constant, that there will always be something he'll forget, there will always be something he can't hold on to...

but.

Chapter 10

“Me?”

“You brought yourself here.”

“I…” Sunny looks around.

Omori had wanted to send him to the pits of his mind, where he could rest.

But Sunny resisted.

Sunny did not succumb.

Sunny is a boy of cycles. he is in this cycle of forgetting and remembering. but there's another cycle, one we don't give him enough credit for: hardship and resistance.

something bad happens. and somehow, eventually, one day, Sunny will resist it. he will resist the idea that this is now his entire life. one day, Sunny will face this hardship with shaky arms, and he will play his music once again.

Sunny has accepted his hardships. it's driven him crazy, it's made him want nothing more than to rest. but he does not.

Sunny has accepted what plagues him and he carries on.

Chapter 8

And so, the curtain draws, and Sunny raises the bow, and they play again.

you who resembles I, or something like that

we, of course, cannot talk about Sunny's selective memory, Sunny's cycles, anything about post-incident Sunny, without talking about Omori. he is an extension of Sunny's being: he is the desire to rest, the desire to hide away, the desire to forget.

yet at the very end, Sunny has a chance to forget, and Omori doesn't let him.

Sunny has experienced prolonged gaps in his memory, filled in with fantasy: the driving lesson and the car chase are examples of this. and he hasn't just experienced gaps, his brains had filled in those gaps with poorly scribbled in memories, in order to convince Sunny to hide away.

Omori does not trust Basil.

Chapter 10

“It wasn’t even you! It was that damn flower boy! It’s always him, it’s always him ruining fucking everything!” Omori regains his balance and direction and lurches forward again for Sunny, this time tackling him to the ground.

it's safe to say that Omori feels a lot more than just distrust towards Basil (gasp).

Chapter 10

Omori sits up and pulls his legs to his chest. He looks off to the side and the sneer is back in his voice, his vulnerability lost to the void. “I can’t believe you. You still love him so much.”

...

Omori presses his weight into Sunny’s abdomen and growls. “You are an idiot. You look so fucking stupid with that stupid lovesick look as if you’ve forgotten everything. As if, as if it means nothing!”

so when Omori has given Sunny two outings before, two chances to escape to a different world and leave... so why, when (it's safe to assume that if Sunny didn't intervene, Basil would not have ended up alright) he could've finally gotten rid of Basil, why would Omori be the one to bring Sunny back?

Chapter 15

Across the street, Sunny could swear he sees a boy who looks just like him in white, gesturing wildly.

well I'm not going to actually answer that because like I really want to write a part two for this AU, so you may be asking. 'Andrew why did you even bother to write all of that than?'

WELL THAT'S BECAUSE I JUST CAN'T TALK ABOUT SUNNYY WITHOUT BRINGING UP OMORI, YOU FOOL! but!

Chapter 10

Letting out a groan of frustration, Omori frees his right hand and swings with the object still in it. It cuts through Sunny’s eye patch and a bit of the skin underneath, and the patch flitters to the ground right as the knife clatters to the ground.

Omori stares right into Sunny’s eye.

hmm... I wonder... what could this possibly mean...

I have more planned for him!!! stay tuned

the end(?)

I have a lot I can say about this story because I just. it is my pride, my joy, and it is my child! I worked very hard on this so I should be allowed to write long winding essays about it!!!

there's so much more I can say about Sunny's memory, but I really want to write a second part!!! maybe this will motivate me to actually do it... (hah. that's funny, Andrew)

Sunny still has a long way to go, but he's acknowledged his gaps and he's acknowledged that it won't all be fixed with time. he'll have to keep working to make it better... until then, let's give him a minute to be warm with his boycrush

if you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading! please keep your local neighborhood Sunny happy and don't let him go on road trips!!!

#literary analysis is my special interest #and so is sunny omori he is my little blorbo #omori #sunny omori #basil omori #sunnflower #sunny x basil #andrew's essays