#and excuse literally All of this i was so fuckin tired

[applexi]

school madness

#drama is happening in the school AND I AM IN ON IT RN‼️‼️‼️ /POS IM ABOUT TO RALLY WITH THE ADMINS RAAAUUAWWWWRR #OKAY SO LIKE?!?????!!!!!!!! #our exams are on monday #but not all of the teachers really had their chance to cover all the lessons for us to tackle for the reasons being: #1) the school loves extracurricular activities #2) national holidays (but this is understandable) #3) THEY WANT OUR FUCKING CLEARANCES SIGNED!!!!! SHOULDN'T THAT SHIT BE DONE /AFTER/ EXAMS????? #MF NO CLEARANCE NO EXAM EXCUSE MEEEEEEE YOU EXPECT LIKE 1K STUDENTS TO GO SCRAMBLE AROUND THE SCHOOL ASKING FOR SIGNATURES #youre pushing them to finish getting the admin signatures first RATHER than telling them to study for the exams??? and you tell me #OHH FINISH THE CLEARANCE FIRST BEFORE THE EXAMS #anyways the students and my class adviser (not an admin) are rallying to reschedule the exam for another week because this is bullshit #last school year our exams were transfered to january!!! why cant we do that last time!!!!!!!!!! #and it was okay!!!!!!!! #im like #mad and tired and fuckin OAUUAAHH #usually i feel thr urgent need to study to be prepared for the exams BUT I DON'T FEEL THE URGENCY BECAUSE WE WERENT TAUGHT PROPERLU 😭😭 #my complaining isnt even filled to my satisfaction i still have so much more to complain about ohmymgoiooodd #eugh whatever i literally walked out today to get my clearance signed (30% complete 😭 its not easy to get signatures) im gonna go write #absolute bullcrap i tel you #this week has been hell

[meltingmidas]

Coachella Rut

Paring: Idol!Hongjoong x Non Idol!Reader

CW: DomJoong/SubReader, Joongie is aggressive :))), pinv, unprotected sex (don’t do this plz this is not sexy!), creampie, mentions of marks and bruises, degradation, pls lmk if i missed anything!

WC: 920

Midas's Notes: So I literally started this right after watching the Coachella stream.. holy shit. Joong really did something to me and idk if I’ll ever be the same. Is there possibly a Mingi one in the works? Maybe. Uhhh this is NOT edited cause I’m too tired and this is just raw horniness so please enjoy (and excuse) this messy fic! PS also didn’t have a fuckin clue what to name it so enjoy the random title <3

🔞 Below 🔞

“Fuck Joong, slow doowwwn- ugh please!” You whimpered as he roughly pounded into your abused pussy, your legs over his shoulders, his arms beside your head. He’s been at it for nearly 2 hours now, rejecting your every single orgasm, giving you no time to rest. Your neck is littered in bruises, cheeks red from his previous slaps, eyeliner dragged down to your jaw. He’s always like this after a concert; but for some reason Coachella has him in a rut.

He’s aggressive, raw, and borderline psychotic. A wild smile plastered on his face, the shitty red dye running down his face over his eyes and around his cheeks, down to his chin and neck. He locks eyes with you as he brings his hand up to roughly hold your jaw, your cheeks uncomfortably squishing together. “You are fucking mine, got it? Your heart, your soul, your thoughts, your pretty pussy, everything. You belong to me. Yeah?”He whispers out, inches away from your face, he’s movements never faulting. You nod, and mewl out a small “Yes sir” before he gives the corner of your lips a small kiss and returning to the side of your head, giving light nips to your neck. Hongjoong looks straight out of a horror movie; and it’s fucking sexy.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by a particular hard thrust, kissing your velvety sweet spot inside you, making you sing his name like it was a prayer. “You look so fucking good underneath me. All fucked up on my cock, yeah? You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grunts out, his voice course from the previous show he put on. You nod eagerly, your nails scratching at his shoulders, bound to leave your mark all over him. “Yeaah that’s right slut. Tell me how good I am.” You moan loudly at his request, surely others would hear (not that you cared), starting to attempt to form a sentence. “Cock feels to-fuck feels too good Joong. Need you to fuck me harder. Please!”.

He chuckles deeply, heavy into your ear, soft grunts and pants leaving his lips. “You feel so fucking good, you were made for me, whore.” You scream out his name as he starts fucking you faster; harder than he’s ever gone before. You whine and whimper, begging for your release, “Please Joong- pleasepleaseplease fill me up sir, I need it so bad. Need your cum inside me so bad.” Hongjoong moans loudly in your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. He lifts up to look at you, the fully sits up, your lower half now slightly lifted up off the bed thanks to your legs still over his shoulders. He gives you a wild smirk, eyes dark and full of love and lust. His hands find the plush spot of your hips, nails digging his shape into it. You whine, tears spilling out as you keep your babbling pleas for his seed. “Fuck- such a good girl, asking so politely for my cum.” One hand moves from your hips and finds your clit, your eyes shoot open and a drawn out moan leaves your lips, a new spark shoots up your spine and your release edging closer and closer.

He grunts, his thrust growing sloppier and harder, you can feel him twitch inside you as he gets closer. “Gonna make you mine sweetheart. All mine- fuck.” He peers down at you, a smile and his signature laugh, “Cum for me, doll.” That was all you needed as you find yourself twitching, hips bucking up into his, you feel your walls convulsing around his, feeling your sweet slick run down to your ass. He moans, voice scratching as a string of “shit” leaves him, as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you up. You whine, feeling so full of him and his milky cum. “So so good. Fuck you’re mine. Mine all mine..” he whispers out, more to himself, as he pushes his final spurts of cum inside you.

You look at him through your wet lashes, admiring the scene of his sweat drenching him, basking in his post sex glow. He catches your eyes, a soft smile leaving his lips as he leans down to meet yours. Hongjoong gives you a soft, gentle kiss, completely different to the ones you received earlier. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t do too much did I?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you, a mix of both your cum oozing outside of your puffy pussy. You shake your head, “No, not at all Joongie. But holy shit, I don’t think I can get up after all… that.” You laugh, and you hear him quietly joins you. “Here.” You look over to find him handing you a glass of water (that he already prepped beforehand, what a gentleman), and a towel in his hand beside you. You gladly take it, shaking as you hastily take a sip. You feel him gently lift one of your legs, softly patting and wiping you off. “I’ll start you a bath, and we can take one together. Or would you rather eat first? Which sounds good?” He quietly asks you, throwing the towel to a dirty clothes hamper and grabs your hand to give it a kiss. You giggle, “Bath, then food, please.” He nods, slowly rubbing your knuckles in his hands. “Sounds good sweetheart.” He gets up to start your bath, you sit up, sipping your water and wondering if you should get chicken or a burger.

#Ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader

[corecataclysm]

need sum1 2 have me blockef so i can just pour my heart out without feeling lame

#like omegle sucks bc ppl domt know me #but regular degular ppl ik KNOW me #so. #idk #maybe ill never be completely content woth the rel8shunshio i have with someone #social anxietys been kicking my ASS not 2 vent on main but who cares its my blog lol #like edpecially online #bc in online spaces i.m less likely 2 b on autopilot so my overthinking gets the better of me #worst thing ever is seeing a cool environment wher ppl kno n like each othr and not knowing how to be a part of it :( #shoots my anxiety out of my head #therapy sux #isnt doing jack shit yet excuse my french #i need n experienced therapist iz the problem #all of rm except stephanie have been like . right outta fuckin grad skool #not fun at all to say sth and have em be like oh never heard of that before :) please elaborate ;) #:)* #literally i am not a fun new experience i am scraping by #tired of not knowing whats wrong with me #and knowing shit i do is wrong but bein caught in a vicious cycle of Mental Ill #hopefully this new shit i got works :/ #just. i make friends and then we drift apart. or i makr a friend > they bcome my fp > i fuck up >they leave #or they just lose interest idk #tags r too long ew #txt

[mcfuckity]

You know what? Im breaking my silence. Im TIRED of people missing Jess’ character on purpose. Like, everyone can use context clues and fill in the blanks for every other character but somehow Jess is the only one taken at face value? Jess is being seen as a cold, detached, mean bitch by fans but I cannot determine whether we even watched the same movie.

Let’s address the elephant in the room, because she is a black woman who is NOT a mammy character, people criticize her harsher. Jess was MORE than Miguel’s “lackey”. She had her own thoughts and opinions. She definitely had her own personality and feelings about the entire situation. She lowkey stalled time to give Gwen chances to fix her mistakes.

If Jess was as cold as Miguel and such a “bitch”, she would’ve left Gwen the first time. Let’s not forget that Miguel was fully about to leave Gwen with her own father holding her at gunpoint, JESS vouched to bring Gwen under her name. Jess put her OWN position at risk to help Gwen and it required that she do her job accordingly. Jess made the boundary VERY clear, she is NOT Gwen’s mother. She is NOT her friend. I seen people argue that “Jess’ maternal instincts” should’ve kicked in to protect Gwen” but fully ignoring that Jess HAS A FAMILY! Jess is PREGNANT with her OWN child. Her instincts DID kick in and she chose her dimension with her family in it!

Jess was stuck in a rock and a hard place. She obviously wanted to help Gwen (considering she brought her in at the cost of her own position) but UNFORTUNATELY, GWEN messed up. Gwen saw Miles and that ultimately led to Spot escaping. You can love these characters and acknowledge that every character had their OWN thoughts and motivations that led to fuck ups. It’s not right to try to make Jess sound worse than the man who fuckin replaced his dead self out of grief, was about to leave a teen at gunpoint, and had an entire society of people chase a teenager who wanted to save his dad.

Don’t get me started on the “she’s fighting crime while pregnant argument” because we can accept superpowered people but NOT the possibility that their bodies are more resilient. NOT TO MENTION THAT PETER B HAS A WHOLE BABY ON MISSIONS???? Like, no one is calling him a bad father so what’s different with Jess? Miguel was mean as fuck to Miles upon meeting but Jess doing her JOB is considered being “mean”.

Then the “I didn’t see her enough to connect with her” is fair until everyone can somehow create entire {TERRIBLE} mischaracterizations of Hobie, Pav, and Peni who (arguably) had just about the same amount of screentime. She also shares traits with every other spider person with being snarky and quick-witted while being completely grounded. She’s literally one of the spider people that Miguel fully trusts but somehow the fandom erases her and goes “He loves Peter B and Lego Spidey🤪🤪”

Like, it’s crazy how people find it so easy to erase Jess and Margo (Spiderbyte) in fanworks for things they easily dismiss from other characters and it’s feelin like misogynoir. Like, Margo and Hobie served the same purpose with deciding to go against Miguel for Miles, yet only Hobie and Gwen gets that credit.

AND THEN THE MANY EXCUSES WHEN IT COMES TO SHIPPING! People keep hating on Jess/Miguel because she’s “obviously pregnant and married” but go right around and ship Miguel with Peter B. Same with Margo/Miles because it’s a bunch of “Miles and Gwen are obviously endgame” ANDDDD???? Since when did every ship HAVE TO be canon in order to be a ship? It’s especially crazy because I BARELY EVER see those comments on Miles/(Peni, Pav, or Hobie) or have no problem with having all the boys huddled around Gwen. The double standard is glaringly obvious.

In conclusion, some of you mfs dont deserve ATSV.

#IM ABSOLUTELY SICK OF THE JESS SLANDER #AND IM ALSO SICK OF MARGO/SPIDER BYTE ERASURE BUT THATS ANOTHER POST #atsv spoilers #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #jess drew #jessica drew #margo kess #miles morales #miguel o'hara #spiderverse spoilers #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #peter b parker #atsv critical #criticism #atsv fandom #fandom misogynoir #white favoritism #misogynoir #spider woman #spider gwen #spider byte #spider punk #spiderman india #spiderman 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv

[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

Masterlist

Prev |

Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.  

A senseless daydream.  

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it.  Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape.  This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place.  It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.  

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt.  Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life.  And last week he was suddenly dead.  It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie.  All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor.  Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.  

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s.  Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste.  Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.  

Whatever you wanted. 

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke.  His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you.  He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him.  He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place.  Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick.  He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible.  Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible.  And for what?  For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions.  Pathetic, he knew.  But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.  

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man.  Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything.  He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come.  A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind.  And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver.  The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him.  He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better.  It was a lie.  He never had the flu.  He didn’t feel better.  He wanted to die.  And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive.  Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon.  His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones.  There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did.  A flaw in the system.  And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?  

Several.

He thought to himself.  

You could have gone to school, shown up.  

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no.  So.  Many.  Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death.  He couldn’t stop making excuses.  Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse.  For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together.  Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had.  It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision.  He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid.  Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed.  And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues.  Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies.  Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum.  Dancing in the living room.  Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees.  Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin.  Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense.  Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer.  That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised.  Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights.  Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in.  Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home.  Only he rarely did.  Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time.  Years and years of push back.  A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.  

“My dad has a ton of jobs.”  He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.  

The kids would snicker.  Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness.  And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day.  Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them.  Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature.  At least that’s how dad described it.  It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse.  They called his dad a drunk.  They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged.  “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie.  Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time.  Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt.  And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up.  Closure in some kind of fucked up way.  Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with.  Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes.  Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability.  No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door.  He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it.  This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions.  He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world.  They shouldn’t have to worry about me.  With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana.  A life he’d always longed for anyway.  

Be careful what you wish for.  

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away.  “One slip up…”  They had said.  It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him.  Literally anyone.  As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.  

Cause he was nothing if not a problem.  First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.  

“Eddie?!”  

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry.  The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.”  His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime.  “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear.  Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.  With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made.  You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“Shh.”  You soothe. 

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose.  A wordless commitment.  Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere.  You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure.  Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had.  Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at.  He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.  

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house.  Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred.  If either spoke it would make it real.  Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him.  There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind.  Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip.  It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.  

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him.  In the standard of fight or flight, he froze.  Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together.  His croaking voice made that hard.  But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability.  And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime.  Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him.  Maybe that was dare you even think it, love.  But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions.  Conclusions you backtracked on immediately.  It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.      

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–”  A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.”  His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior.  “I shouldn’t–”  There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath.  “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn.  Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet.  Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.  

“How’d you know?”  He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.  

“Wayne called me.”  You sigh.  “Said he got my number from Steve.  Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?”  At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it.  “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in.  Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.”  You assure, taking care to relax your features.  “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out.  He wanted me to check in.  I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.”  You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again.  You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick.  The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor.  There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better.  You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again.  It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words.  When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage.  In his eyes.

“But I will be.  Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses.  Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble.  A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.”  You demand.

“No, Bambi.  Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key.  Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself.  And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses.  His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness.  Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in.  He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!”  Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow.  “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down.  I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it.  My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.”  Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze.  A plea.  “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in.  I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal.  It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him.  The room turned colder, more vacant.  Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart?  His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall.  The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.  

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended.  Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness.  Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what?  Stormed off?  Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat.  He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other.  And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness.  The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut.  An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.”  You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth.   “And I did.  You didn’t say how long or—or where to go.  But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake.  Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.  

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips.  Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you.  Your boy.  

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense.  Bambi and Eddie.  There is not one without the other, not anymore.  Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”  

It just fell from his tongue.  A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious?  Is that what you’re gonna ask?”  He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping.  Not because you’re afraid, no, never.  You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts.  “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.  

“Bad.”  He reiterates.  “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.”  Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip.  “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it.  And I’ll run with it.  Far.  Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.” 

“I’m a pathetic man.  Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”  

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.”  You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.”  He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.  

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.”  You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow!  Jesus fuck.”  Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek.  “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of.  Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.  

“Can you…can you do that again?”  He whispers.  Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck.  His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest  wet dreams.  

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail.  And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

 He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.  

“Like that, baby?”  You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.”  A whisper that tells you everything.  “I-I never—no one’s ever—“  He tries to warn you.

“What?”  You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe.  “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”  

“Just my hand.”  Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap.  Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his.  Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.  

“We can stop.”  You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.”  His voice shakes, chest heaving.  “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”  

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him.  But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable.  Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.”  You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him.  “Let me take care of you.”  

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles.  You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you.  His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.  

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far.  His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.”  You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.”  He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria.  “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.  

“Please, baby.  Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.  

“You bought condoms?  Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.  

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!”  You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back.  You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?”  You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.  

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care.  Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed.  You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you.  Purely Eddie.  Woodsy and minty.  A tad smoky.  And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room.  And then it plays.  A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love.  A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.  

“Well alright, cowboy.”  You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.  

“Shut up.”  He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.  

“C’mere.”  You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you.  “Wanna see you.” 

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach.  Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago.  The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined.  While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side.  Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him.  Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants.  Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.  

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet.  But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.  

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side.  His eyes grow, lips parted in awe.  And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.  

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control.  And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.  

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval.  That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it.  Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red.  Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.”  While grinding into nothing, poor boy.  “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands.  You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth.  Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps.  Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair. 

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot.  Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned.  Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone.  The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom.  The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.  

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm.  Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.  

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting.  The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

 Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds.  Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what.  Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime.  Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm.  His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted.  You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark.  All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you.  He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.  

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless.  Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit.  Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”.  That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close.  Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.  

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart.  Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.  

It could help though.  And that’s all that mattered.  If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing.  If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.  

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree.  Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar.  Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works.  Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.  

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did.  Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste.  Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.  

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes.  While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet.  Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity.  Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips.  A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”  You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.  

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth.  It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.  

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?”  He laughs, voice husky with sleep.  

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”  

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created.  Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow.  He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”  

Eddie just stared. 

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!”  You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you.  When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.  

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse.  I just didn’t.  I’m sorry.”  His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck.  And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you.  I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.”  You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table.  Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you.  Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute.  He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing. 

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I.  Love.  You.”  You enunciate each word with a peck.  “Point blank.  No exceptions.  You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man?  We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records.  A huge stack of them.  All genres.  Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal.  It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling.  That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?”  You scoff.  “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school.  You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach.  He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.  

And he was blushing. 

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me.  I picked some out that I knew you’d like.  Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them.  Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him.  Like Pandora’s box or something.  Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper.  A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold.  His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper.  It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head.  Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture.  At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said. 

“No fucking way.”  He smiles, half laughs.  Then repeats himself.  Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around.  Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.  

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table.  The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other.  Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between.  His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three.  Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled.  Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere.  You miss it.  But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything.  Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi.  Makes small talk with mom and grandma.  Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day.  No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her.  He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang.  Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual.  Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background.  Something about a broken sled.  Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either.  This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on.  Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default.  She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially.  Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house.  Beautiful in the summertime.  Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays.  One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

[stopthatnel]

towing cars

nsfw under the cut, reblogs are so appreciated lovely’s 🥺

tw: powerplay, roles of authority, oral sex (m! receiving), anal play (and mentions of it), use of sir, use of pet names, degradation/praise, lmk if i missed any.)

deputy! reiner who knows your car and plates a lot more than he’d like to. several noise complaints could be traced back to your sleek red mercedes and for the first few of them, you were off the hook with a warning. the deputy never understood how many ‘warnings’ a single person could manage without actually receiving a ticket until he was dragging himself out of his house to angrily glare at your car circling his cul de saq.

off duty and all, he’s stomping his feet across his yard while muttering about what kind of psychopath was blaring their music this loudly at two in the morning. he’s harshly tapping at the drivers side window with his knuckles, noticing the barely legal tint applied to the glass. when your window rolled down, reiner almost didn’t see the look of irritation that spread on your features. he was taken aback by your doe eyes, glossy lips and rose stained cheeks.

you hadn’t bothered to turn down your stereo as you glared daggers into his head, appalled by the audacity of the complete stranger who decided to dirty your crystal clear windows. in your eyes, he looked like he just rolled out of bed (he did, thanks to you), and needed someone to argue with.

“ma’am, do you know what time it is?” he asks you, holding onto the roof of your car and leaning into the open window. your ditzy eyes looked like they rolled into the back of your head, popping your gum loudly.

“m’sorry, can’t hear ya! try again during business hours hun.” you’re sarcastically saying, already reaching to roll your window back up. but reiner was absolutely too tired for this shit, reaching one of his arms into your car and pulling your keys from its slot and stepping back. “excuse you? give me my fuckin’ keys you psycho!” you gasp, taking your foot off the break.

“ma’am are you under any influence tonight?” reiner asks, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at you. he watches as you sputter, grabbing your phone off the console and stepping out of your vehicle. your outfit left just enough up for imagination, a pink denim belted mini skirt and a too thin tube top barely keeping your breasts confined.

“are you acting’ like a cop right now? i’ll have you know an actual cop lives on this block, loser. give me my keys back ‘fore i call him!” you threaten cluelessly. the deputy is chuckling, daring you to go ahead and call the cop that you ‘knew’. it was only a few awkward seconds before you realized the house the man came from had a deputy car parked front and center in the drive way.

“i’m sure your cop friend is just busy right now, ain’t that right darling?” your gaze nervously reaches his smug face, suddenly overly aware of the new dynamic that just took place. you quickly unlock your phone and text your friend (who sucked at telling you her neighbor cop was literally the deputy) to stay inside the house until you said anything else.

“m’not drunk or anything, swear.” you mutter, propping your cell between your skin and already stretched out top. “then i’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing a quick sobriety test, right?”

reiner almost laughed in your face when you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning your nose up. “n’ how’re you gonna do that? you’re in your pajamas.”

“i can hold onto your keys and go change into my uniform if that’ll make you more comfortable. in fact, i can even pull out the deputy car and turn on the sirens if you’d like anymore of a scene than the one you’re already causing, doll.”

your ears are turning red at the way he talked to you, so smugly like he trumped you. truthfully, he did. you just hoped you could get your act together and work your magic on the deputy the same way you’ve worked your charm on the other officers that’ve tried to issue you tickets. and in all honesty, you weren’t drunk.

“i- these heels really hurt my feet!” you pout, pointing to the black stilettos that adorned your feet. “and it’s really hard to walk in ‘em. can i take em off at least?” reiner sucks his teeth, swinging your keychain around his fingers as he shamelessly looks you up and down.

“you had’em on while driving, shouldn’t be too hard to walk in. c’mon, straight line, one foot in front of the other.” he steps back farther into the street, crossing his arms and raising his brow expectantly. he watches the way you huff again, keeping your hands to your sides and eyes focused on the shimmering pavement underneath you. walking towards him, reiner would’ve almost made his point had your ankle not rolled to side, leaving you stumbling for balance. he sighs.

“take ‘em off then.” he could almost see something spark in your eyes, staggering back to your starting point. he’d half expected you to bend over and unclasp the ridiculously tiny ankle straps that kept those heels on your feet, and you do that.

except you turn around and keep your legs shoulder width apart when you do so. reiners jaw almost dropped, your bare cunt and pink plug on display for him to see. you took your time undoing the clasps, doing each one individually, allowing yourself to feel the cool air between your thighs. you could feel his stare, and having said nothing you decided to test the waters a bit more, swinging your hips gently as you moved over to the next clasp.

truth be told, this excited you. the once smart mouthed cop had nothing say at the moment and when you came back up, you twirled around and carelessly plucked your phone from out of your top and placing it on your car hood. you smile giddily as you watch the way his eyes trail over the fabric that inched it’s way down the swell of your breasts, areolas peaking out from the very top now of where they rested.

you stared back at him, noticing just as much as him on his counterpart, a tent in his sweatpants slowly becoming visible. “m’kay, ima try this again. if i fail it this time, you can do whatever ya want. but i’m promisin’ you—”

“get to walking.” he’s gritting, his eyes momentarily unable to meet yours. now, now, he understands why little old you was getting away with just warnings. he see’s your red mercedes almost everywhere after that incident, his face unwillingly turning pink each time, almost afraid to keep looking. but he does, and time after time you’re strutting out of that car with the stilettos that were too hard to walk in as you make your rounds to his neighbors house.

deputy!reiner is unsure if you’re fucking his neighbor, but he wouldn’t find it hard to believe if you were. stepping out of his house alone and pulling your miniskirt (how many of those could one person even own?) down over your ass, popping your gum loudly as you get into your car and never bothering to turn down the previous volume you had on your stereo.

however, there’s only so many times he could handle being awoken from his sleep to your ditzy music, your ditzy cackle, your stupid plump lips blowing bubbles with the gum you seemed to constantly have in your mouth. and tonight, reiner didn’t bother going to sleep. he waited to hear your obnoxiously loud engine going way too fast in the cul de saq, sitting at his window and watching you confidently strut over to porco’s house and go inside.

while you’re in there doing god knows what, he has a boot cradled in his arms and the key tight between his teeth. just as quick as he’d show up, he’d be gone, making himself comfortable in his bed until he hears banging at his front door.

his deal was simple, give him one good reason not to issue you four tickets and have your car towed and he’ll give you the key to the boot and let you go on your merry way. but you stood at his door, arms crossed over your chest and a pout forming on your face as you stammered over your words, intimidated by the confident calm he held over you.

“buh, buh, buh. cats got yer’ tongue tonight, lil lady? but what? why shouldn’t i fine you for that tint, for your reckless driving, for your speeding, and noise disturbance?” he’s relishing in this, he’s feeling a comeback from the way you had him acting out of character that night. “i, fuck man, i don’t even know your name.”

“that’s not necessary doll, deputy is fine with me.”

when tears began welling at your eyes, the deputy would’ve almost felt bad had he not known you’d do anything to get out of a tough situation. but with that knowledge in mind, he invited you in, pulling out a seat from his (way too big for one person) dining table and sat directly across from you as if he was about to interrogate you.

“are you seriously going to boot my car? i literally need it, and i- i don’t have the funds to get it out of the yard. this is so fucked up, i didn’t even have my music that loud.”

“i heard it from my bedroom, darling.” reiner lies, a phony sympathetic smile plastered on his face. “look, out of four tickets, im asking for one reason.” he attempts to reason with you. one tear from the welling at your water line slipped past your lashes, groaning and throwing your head into your palms.

“deputy please,” you beg. “i won’t even come ‘round here no more, you’ll never hear from me again. promise!” reiner audibly tsks at your words in disapproval. “not a reason darling. i’ll be calling the tow company and you can head on with the car n’ em.”

the lot of emotions that swirled through your mind almost clouded your eyes from seeing the egging, smug smirk that was plastered onto the deputy’s face. almost, however, is a very important word. you hurriedly wiped your cheeks clean from the saline that stained them, sniffling your nose and picking up your phone. reiner sat and watched you quietly, tapping away at the glass, eager to see your next move. were you going to call someone, perhaps porco next door? after all, you had just came from his house, maybe he’d provide you with some help.

but instead you placed your phone face down on the table and huffed, turning your nose up. “so?” the blonde asks, curious as to what was behind those pretty eyes. reiner wasn’t really going to boot your car and give you four tickets, he wasn’t even on the clock. he just wanted to shake you up a little bit, just enough to allow him a good nights rest. but the way you leaned into his dining table with those big wide eyes of yours and fixed your lips to say,

“you’re right, i was being disrespectful. is there anything i can do to make this up to you? i’ll be a good girl, sir.”

had him thinking back to your pretty pussy bent over on display. god the nights of him closing his eyes and picturing himself just acting on the moment, pulling his sweats down fucking your pussy dumb right on the hood of your car, so dumb that you don’t question him, his authority. promising to be a good girl, just for him.

that smug grin of his seemed to be widening more and more as he stared at you, his biggest giveaway being the way his eyes relaxed, peering at you through his thick lashes. he didn’t jump, or give any tell of the way shimmied closer to the edge of your seat; but your ankles are finding themselves crossed with his, the sound of those too high stilettos clicking underneath the two of you. he clasps his hands in front of him, leaning into your bold movements with a simple cock of the brow. he wanted you to do it.

in fact, he dared you.

“how are you going to make it up? what do you have that could make me give this a blind eye?” he questions you. your ankle inched up his calve the minute his lips closed, watching him carefully as you did. the way he sat there nonchalantly would have made you believe that he could pass a lie detector while lying through his teeth, but that was all for null. seeing as the tip of your heel found what it was looking for, you grinned at the feeling of hardness underneath it.

but that wasn’t enough for you or him, and you don’t hesitate to draw your legs back into your body and slyly unclasp the buckle holding the shoe to your feet. he’s clearing his throat as a cover up to stifle the groan he lets out when he feels you press up onto his crotch, wrapping his calloused hands around your ankle and roughly yanking you forward.

“if you’re doing what i think you’re doing sugar, i need to hear you say it.” he mutters thickly. he’s looking at you through his lashes, waiting for your pouty lips to tell him exactly what you were trying to do, shamelessly at that. but you had to save yourself some dignity, and in return you refused to do that. “what do you think i’m doing, sir?” your heartbeat thumped loudly behind your chest, noticing the way his grip tightened around your skin when you repeated the use of ‘sir’.

reiner oh so definitely wanted to hear you say it, but he couldn’t help it, feeling the ball your foot press back and forth against his awfully hard dick was nothing more than magic to make him speak. “i think you want me to bend you over this table and fuck you like a whore, sweetheart.” reiner never failed to notice the little twinkle in your eye as the pet name drawled from his lips. something about his southern accent saying the nastiest things in the sweetest way.

“do you wanna?” you smack at the gum between your teeth, obnoxiously popping bubbles. reiner’s smirk dropped, tilting his head at your question. he was getting too far in, desperately drawn to your words but he needed to be the one in control here. after all, he did have the key to the boot that kept you here in the first place.

“do you deserve it?”

“it’s not about whether or not i deserve it, it’s about whether or not you’re into it. sir.”

reiner sweeps your ankle off his lap and pushes his chair back, standing up and walking over to your side. he places a palm down onto the table in front of you, the other resting gently on your bare shoulder. he leans into your ear and whispers, “and if i am into it, do you still think you’d deserve to have that slutty cunt of yours split on my cock? you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass, y’know.”

you fluttered your eyes closed at his words, the degrading tone making you cross your legs together. even without reopening them, you can feel his eyes like daggers in your face, expecting a response out of you. you take a shaky breath, opening your lids slowly and glancing at his hand before gently taking his wrist between your comparatively small fingers. you mumble something, something reiner genuinely didn’t hear. he leaned closer into you.

“what’s that?”

“take this as an ‘i’m sorry’.” this time, reiner heard you loud and clear. but just to feel it, he lazily takes his hand off your shoulder and hooks his finger underneath you chin, asking you to repeat that last part. he looks into your eyes, amber but dark as ever.

“m’sorry.”

“show me how sorry you are.” his hand reaches over to the nape of your neck, pulling your cheek to meet the white fabric of his tank top, feeling the warmth of his skin underneath. he look down at you as you place your hands on his hips, fingers blindly dancing at the elastic of his sweats. i could’ve just been a coincidence that he was wearing the exact same outfit as the night you’d flashed him, but it wasn’t. this is how that night should’ve played out, he’s thinking. he should’ve had you choking around his shaft with tears in your eyes just as you are now.

gasping for air as he throws his head back, thrusting into your mouth as he holds your hair up to see you pretty face trying desperately to take a solid gasp of air. he’s grunting at the way your tongue still manages to flatten against the underside of his dick, curling around it to cover your bottom teeth. the drool that coated the elastic of his waistband (which you hadn’t even bothered to tug down fully) didn’t affect him in anyway, barely reaching your chin at every gag you made.

his dick was big, thick and veiny. it was heavy in your mouth, pulsating against your tongue. he was surprisingly neatly trimmed, only a tuft of a blonde landing strip at the base of his happy trail. the mushroom tip was a deep purple color from your throat closing around him so tightly. he tapped it against your hanging tongue, his shaky breaths rocking his upper body as he stares at the submission he’s been seeking.

it wasn’t enough.

he needed more. he needed those tears to count for something, not just his cock bullying your uvula. it should bully your cunt too, but in time. you’re dragging the back of your palm across your mouth in an attempt to clean up the slobbery mess you’ve created, jaw sore from how wide he’d kept it open. “up, c’mon sweetheart. on ya’ feet.”

he watched in satisfaction as you stood up without hesitation, without a word, without a snarky attitude. he wondered where the gum in your mouth had went, and he takes your cheeks into one hand, squishing them to open your mouth. he slips his finger past your red lips and you open up wider, closing your eyes as you feel him press onto your tongue and swipe along under it. you seemed to know what he was looking for, “i swallowed it.” you’re speaking around his digit. he raised his brows up but made no comment, stepping back and using the spit he’d collected to help him tug at his length.

“you sure know how to give a show don’t ya’?” he asks you, watching as he pulls his sweats down further over his thighs. you tilt your head wordlessly, becoming a bit shy as his eyes danced over your figure. you go to tug the leather mini skirt just a bit over your ass, only to be met with that familiar tsking the deputy seemed very fond of aiming at you. you gaze up at him, halting in your actions as he shamelessly stroked his cock.

“tell me, darling. you got that pink plug stuffed in yer’ lil asshole today?” his words sounded slurred, drunk even. you shake your head no, had you known he was seeking it you might’ve just humored him. he chuckled, mumbling something about having something else he could shove in there.

“bend over the table for me.” he tells you, following right behind you. when your chest hits the table you look back at him, admiring the gold between your legs. you wondered what went through his mind, but the quick flicks of his hand wrapped around his leaking tip told you more than you needed to know. his eyes glance over to your peering eyes, “face forward, slut. did i say you could look?” he snaps.

your eyes widen momentarily as you snap your neck forward, then closing them in… embarrassment? your cheeks are heating up, taking in slow breaths as you anticipate his next move. his rough hands are somewhat gentle as he yanks your barely there skirt fully over your ass, fingers kneading the soft flesh. “i wonder what was going on in that empty little head of yours that night,” he mumbles to himself, “were you looking to get fucked?” he elicits a soft gasp from you when he pulls your thighs farther apart, tapping the taut skin of your asshole with his thumb.

“or did you already get fucked? was that plug just to keep your little boyfriend’s cum stuffed in you?” you hum as his fingers drag down to your slit, spreading your lips apart with his middle finger between them. “i- ah, he’s not my boyfriend!” reiner chuckles at your exclamation, but doesn’t dwell on it too much as he pursues his lips and spits onto his finger, mixing it in with your slick.

“i bet he won’t be after this for sure, ain’t that right sugar? you’re gonna be a good girl and listen t’me, huh?” reiner is still waiting for syour answer as you whine from the width of his fingers, slowly inching into your cunt. “yes, i- i’m sorry.” reiner almost laughed at you, all of that snotty brat behavior went where exactly? two knuckles deep into you and it’s gone, you’re a quiet whimpering slut.

so, he laughs.

“what’re… oh fuck- what are you laughing about?” you ask, squeezing your eyes tightly as he curls his fingers into you. the deputy doesn’t respond to you, simply fucking into your pussy with his digits, trying to stretch you out. if it’s one thing about the deputy, he was in control, and being in control called for an awareness that the normal person wouldn’t typically project.

and reiner knew his cock would stretch your little hole out until it was molded to the shape of him, and a little help wouldn’t be an issue for him to give. your pussy spasmed around his fingers, but reiner was a bit confused. he expected you to be loud, matching your boisterous actions. however your eyes remained shut tight, small gasps and whines escaping through your nose. your hands held onto the corner of the table tightly, and for a moment reiner almost doubted whether or not you felt good.

but when he thrusted into you, the gasp you’d let out was nothing short of an ego boost to the deputy. the squeals tumbling from your lips, the incoherent mumbles of words that could’ve been apologies or gratitude played no roll in the way reiner’s hips met yours, and with such animalistic growls coming from him you almost didn’t believe it.

his hands meet the skin flush on his thighs, pulling your own thighs wider apart as he digs into your stomach. he felt so deep you’d swear if you put your hand over your belly you’d feel him. and speaking of your hands, they gripped the sleek wood beneath you tightly, promising yourself not to run from his assault on your cunt.

“fuck, i was laughing ‘cus this is how i was supposed to have this pretty pussy. if you wanted,” he pushes down on your back with one hand, digging in deep and leans forward. he was bottomed out, nipping at the stretchy fabric of your tube top with his teeth. he’s pulling it down hastily, his skin feels hot against your back. “you could’ve just asked to be fucked right. i wouldn’t say no, especially not to a brat like you.”

while his voice was strained, he still somehow managed to speak to you in a belittling manner. your nails dig into the surface beneath you, crying out as he draws his hips back and then slamming it back flush.

“oh my fucking god!”

“there ain’t nothing godly about this, darlin’. how about reiner, how about you call for me.”

you couldn’t even process the fact that he finally told you his name, but you’re calling it, over and over like a prayer. his hands won’t stop moving, pressing down on your shoulders, holding the skin of your ass apart and spitting his drool onto your asshole.

he was watching the way it would drip down to your split open cunt, disappearing in the mess you’ve already made on his dick. so fuckin’ pretty, your head was spinning from the contrasting nothings and something he was whispering to you. he was calling you a slut, but it’s okay because you’re his pretty slut, and he was going to fuck your attitude into place.

he was most definitely keeping his word, dropping his leg from the chair and lifting you up and flipping you over. you finally get a good look at him, sweat beaded at his brow, his cheeks were pink, and best of all, the shit eating smirk was back and full blown. he doesn’t let you think too long, dragging you to the edge and lining himself back up to your hole. wasting no time, he dips back in slowly, watching the way your face stared down at where the two of you connected, panting and relishing in the way he stretched you out.

about halfway, he’s giving you slow languid thrusts, taking the tempo to catch his breath. “fuck me back baby,” he says, cupping the rounds of your ass under him. you prop yourself up onto your elbows, rolling your hips into his thrusts, stifling a moan when the mushroom tip of his cockhead nudges at your gspot.

“you take this dick so good… fuckin’ made fr’ it.”

#aot smut #aot x reader #snk smut #aot reiner #reiner smut #reiner braun x you #snk reiner #reiner braun smut

[liv-does-stuff]

“Happy Birtday Dumbass”

Hasan Piker X Reader

Warning:cussing but that’s it

A/n: I’m so sorry for whatever this bullshit is I’m high asf right now and I proof read this as best as I could.

————////———-////———-////———-

You and Hasan rarely fought. Yes you argued over trivial things sometimes, but you could count on your fingers the amount of times you actually had a bad fight and boy was this a bad fight. It all started Monday, you had spent the whole summer so far trying to help your best friend move down to North Carolina, God knows why, with you being away for the a few months you had seen Hasan only a few times through June and July , but you made sure you would be there for his birthday. Now you may be wondering where the fighting came in and here’s the answer. One night you had been on the phone with your boyfriend, trying to find a cheap flight, but they were all pricey.

“Y/n don’t worry if it’s that big of a deal I’ll just buy the ticket.” Hasan said tired of your complaining. You were quick to shoot that down by saying, “Oh absolutely not It’s supposed to be your birthday party and I would feel bad if you bought the ticket.” He sighed, “Y/n, could just stop complaining then, I’m trying to be nice, but you’ve literally just bitched this whole call.” Normally Hasan wouldn’t have said something like this to 𝘺𝘰𝘶, but today had stressed him out, his stream was glitching and Austin was late to the podcast and it threw everything off. He never meant to bring his anger out on you, but he had and you weren’t about to take that, “Excuse me”, you said taken aback by his change in tone, “I’m so sorry that I was trying to do something nice for your fuckin birthday and yea what if I started complaining? These Flights aren’t cheap and it’s frustrating !” He sighed into the phone, “Then don’t come”, he said lowly. “What are you even saying?” You said quietly. “If it’s such an inconvenience the don’t show up.” He stated. You hadn’t meant to say it, but you did, “Fine”, you hung up the phone with a sigh.

2 days had past and Hasan hadn’t reached out. Too be fair you hadn’t either, but even so you still planned on making it to his party, which is why you were up at 3 am trying to book a flight for tomorrow and finally you got a good deal. Hasan was having a dinner around 7 with his friends and your flight landed at 5:30 so you decided to make a call.

“Hey Austin I need your help.” You said after he picked up on the 4th ring.

“Y/n what the fuck I was asleep!?” He said groggily trying to make sense of why you were calling.

“So yea can you pick me up and take me with you tomorrow?” You asked after explaining everything that had happened.

“Of course y/n/n, but seriously if you wake me up like this one more time I’ll beat you ass.” You snorted as he said that. After a few more minutes of talking you said bye and hung up.

After your plane landed you went to look for Austin and once you made eye contact you ran up and hugged him. “Oh my god I missed you so much bitch!” You both laughed. He broke the hug and led you to the car. You were nervous to say the least, you didn’t know if Hasan would still be pissed or if he would be happy to see you. You really didn’t want to ruin his birthday for him. Austin seemed to notice your worrying because he looked at you and said, “Don’t worry y/n he misses you he just wants to give you space.” You nodded and soon the conversation drifted off into how Austin’s love life was going which made the drive go by quicker, and soon you were parked at Hasans house. God you missed this place. Austin ran up the door, knocked and shouted, “Hasan it’s Austin I brought you an amazing present.” The door began to open, “Austin why the fuck are you thirty minutes la- y/n?” Hasan locked eyes with you, you wanted to hug him and run your hands through his curls right there, but you resisted. Austin walked into the house and winked at you. Hasan shut the door and you immediately fell into him not caring if he was mad or not you just needed him, he wrapped his arms around you. “Y/n I thought you weren’t gonna come.” He sighed. You looked up at him, “Hasan I’m so sorr-“, he cut you off, “No I am you didn’t do anything I was just being a dick.” You laughed, “Yea you kinda were.” He smiled and you got on your tip toes to kiss him. You giggled into the kiss and he whispered, “I love you”

“Happy birthday dumbass.”

#hasan piker #hasanabi #hasanpikerxreader #happy birthday #twitch #valkyrae #austin show #will neff #qt cinderella #shitpost #nickisnotgreen #ethan is online #peethan #kaya #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #guillermo de la cruz with colon #beauty #fan art #food #history #fanfic #fluff #elon musk #twitter x

[tanked-up]

Fake Dating + Only one bed trope :)

(I know it’s long, but it’s worth it I promise - pt1)

—————————

Ghost: Remind me again why we’re doing this, capt’n?

Price: Just grab the intel with Soap and head back.

Ghost: Okay… but a ball?!

Soap appears all dressed up: Have you not been to a ball?

Ghost: Do I look like a man who’s been to one of those fancy parties, Johnny?

Soap: Eh, anyways… ye’ like it?

Ghost: Like what

Soap: My outfit!

Ghost: Oh. Well, uhh… it’s agreeable.

Soap: Ye’ kidding, LT

Price: Alright boys, enough with the chit chat. Get on goin

Ghost sighs: Alright, come on-

Soap: Wait, are you going like that?

Ghost: What’s wrong with this

Soap: It’s not formal, at all

Ghost: I have another change of clothes, I’ll wear them when we arrive to a hotel.

Soap: Wait- We’re staying at a hotel!?

Price: Where’d you think you’d be staying, Soap? Plus, change clothes, you will be arriving late and probably won’t have time to go to the first event of the party.

Soap: Alright, capt’n

Price: Also! I forgot to tell you both. Now, I know this might cause a bit of… tension, or anger between the two of you…

Ghost: Great, the surprises keep on comin

Soap: Just listen.

Price: Okay, so there’s only one bed.

Ghost: Come again.

Soap: Hm?

Price: You heard me fellas. Now get going

(Price drags them both out of the room)

Soap: Wait but-

Ghost: I’m gonna get ya for this, capt’n

——————————————————————

(In the limousine which Price had to rent as a disguise of course)

Driver: Alright boys, bit of a change in route.

Soap: What do you mean?

Driver: Where heading to the hotel first.

Soap whispers to Ghost: Enough time for ye’ to change, LT. No excuses now

Ghost: Fuckin hell, Johnny.

Soap: Also… about the bed. I can sleep on the floor-

Ghost: You’re sleeping on the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.

Soap: No! Ye’ know your trouble for sleeping, the beds the best opt-

Ghost: Johnny. Don’t be a pain in my ars and give me a headache. Your sleeping on the bed, and that is final.

(They both stay quiet for the rest of the trip to the hotel)

——————————————————————

(2 hours pass)

Driver: Alright, we’re here.

Ghost: Good

Driver: Let me help you with the- Is he asleep?

Ghost: Oh, seems like it

Driver: Want me to wake him-

Ghost: Don’t bother.

Drive: You know this is a rental, right. I don’t have all night-

Ghost: Don’t. Bother.

Drive: Okay then

———————————————————————-

(In the room)

Soap: Sorry for falling asleep earlier-

Ghost: It’s okay.

Soap: Man it’s cold

Ghost: What is this.

Soap: Ye’ve got to be kiddin me.

Ghost: You heard Price, right?

Soap: Yeah! He specifically said “Hotel”

Ghost: Son of a bitch

Soap: This is a junkyard. Maybe we’re in the wrong place?

Ghost: I’m too tired to argue, let’s just get some sleep.

Soap: Whatever ye’ say…

Soap: Why’s there’s a bunch of Newspaper on the floor?

Ghost: Beats me. I’ll find someplace comfortable-

Soap: LT.

Ghost: Soap, no

Soap: It’s just for tonight!

Ghost: No! You take the bed, it’s more comfortable

Soap: But, then you’ll be uncomfortable.

Ghost sighs: I don’t care, besides, I probably won’t even sleep.

Soap: Fine- You heard that…

Ghost: It sounded like a squeak…

Soap: If there’s a mice, I will literally burn the whole place down, I’m not kidding, LT

Ghost: I’ll help ya

—————————————————————————

(3:30 am)

Soap: Are ye’ awake?

Ghost: Hm?

Soap: Are ye’ okay and comfortable?

Ghost: Since when the carring?

Soap: C’mon, LT… this beds big enough for both of us.

Ghost: Johnny, I said- Oh Shit

Soap: What?!

Ghost: Fuckin splinter

Soap: That’s it, I’m draggin you

Ghost: Soap- no

Soap: Fine, then I’ll sleep on the floor as well.

Ghost: You’re pissing me off, Johnny

Soap: Good

(Soap proceeds to lay besides Ghost, on the wooden floor)

Soap: This floor creaks a lot.

Ghost: Mhm, why can’t you just let me be on the floor.

Soap sighs: I feel, bad. Ghost

Ghost: Why bad?

Soap: It’s just… that you’ve done so much for me, and your always there besides me, and then there’s me always screwing stuff up and dragging ye’ with me-

Ghost: Johnny-

Soap: Ye’ know I’m right, LT… and now you here on the floor, it’s just- seems wrong. You’re always giving me the nice things and you end up with the worse.

Ghost: I’m used to it-

Soap: It’s not that! See, that’s exactly why I wanna change that. I need you to feel loved, and appreciated…

Ghost scoffs: Loved is the last thing someone can gift me, Johnny

Soap: You don’t seem too tough to love…

Ghost: Is that so?

Soap: What I meant was-

Ghost: No no, you’re just the first person to ever say that to me…

Soap: Oh… well, I- I’m happy?

(Ghost let’s out a small chuckle)

Soap: Did I just make ye’ laugh…?

Ghost: Maybe

Soap: Does that mean there’s a heart capable of loving, inside ye’ Ghostie…?

Ghost: Go to sleep, Johnny

Soap: With pleasure.

#I know it’s long but it’s worth it. #I promise #If it gets attention then I’ll prob make a pt2 #fake dating #ghostsoap #soft soap and ghost #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #ghost mw2 #simon riley #john price #incorrect cod quotes #cod meme #one bed trope

[amazingmsme]

Wake Up (Proto)Call

AN: FINALLY, MY FIRST NPMD FIC!!! Been wanting to write this since I saw it, the brainrot is strong with this one. Just some Spankoffski bros fluff ft. Steph. This fic was an absolute blast to write! This trio literally own my heart now, wtf. Here’s day 29!

Ted walked down the hall toward's Peter's closed door, hands shoved deep in his pocket. He barely gave a knock before opening it.

"Hey Pete, got a min- oh. Well hello." Ted stood in the doorway awkwardly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Stephanie Lauter looked about the same, sitting on the leaning against the headboard with a book in hand and Peter napping in her lap. A blush quickly spread across her cheeks as a teasing smirk tugged on his lips. She gave a shy wave.

"Um, hi."

Ted walked into the room, milling about as he inspected his brother's shelves of action figures, comics and other nerdy memorabilia. He held a hand out for her to shake.

"I'm Ted, Pete's older brother." She arched a brow, but didn't shake his hand. He held his hands up in surrender. "Too cool for a handshake, hey, I get it." This seemed to snap her out of it.

"No! It's not that, you just- caught me off guard is all."

Ted gave her a skeptical, albeit amused look. "Mmhmm." He turned his back to her and grabbed a stack of comics. "I owe him 20 bucks now, so thanks a lot." Steph scoffed.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously, setting her book aside.

"I thought he was full of shit when he said he was meeting the mayor's daughter at Pasquale's, so obviously I made a bet," he explained as he started to sift through the stack. It was Stephanie's turn to smirk.

"And obviously you lost."

Ted snorted, but didn't pay her much attention beyond that. Steph frowned. "You know he's really particular about his stuff, right?" Ted turned around on his heels, bending at the waist to get closer to her height.

"Seeing as I've known him since birth, uh, yeah I do, lil miss," he snarked. Steph glared at him and flipped him off.

"Don't fucking call me that. I'm sure Peter doesn't want you snooping around his room anyway," she sassed back, crossing her arms, careful not to jostle Peter as he slept.

Ted rolled his eyes, somehow putting his whole body into it. "Yeah I was hoping he'd be gone, but asleep is the next best thing," he said, turning back to face her. "If you must know, I'm just trying to keep track of everything he's got. All this junk looks the same to me, and I can't just ask what he doesn't have, 'cause then he'll know what I'm getting him-" he started rambling.

Steph's expression softened into a grin. "His birthday's still a month away."

"Yeah, and I'm running out of time," he mused, setting the comics back where he got them. He even made sure they were ordered correctly, Stephanie noticed. He glanced at her, looking as though he wanted to say something. Stephanie scoffed and looked him up and down. "What?"

"I really wanna do this thing, but if I do Pete's probably gonna be pissed," he said, mischievous eyes glued to his brother's sleeping form. Mischief came off of him in waves Steph hummed as she reached for her book again.

"Then you probably shouldn't do it."

Ted took one step closer to the door, but meandered his way back to the side of the bed.

"Oh but it's a tradition. You see, it was always my job to wake him up for school, dude sleeps like a fuckin' log-" he started. Steph frowned and shook her head, a hand carding through his long hair.

"Don't wake him up, he's tired. I told him he could nap."

"Yeah but he has a guest over, and that shit's just flat out rude in my opinion. Besides, I think you'd really like it," he said the last bit in a singsong tone. She rolled her eyes and returned to her book.

"I'm serious, don't bother him." Then quieter, she added, "He's cute while he sleeps." He made a gagging motion while she was distractedly looking down at Peter, stopping right before she looked back at him.

Ted turned around in "defeat" and headed to the door, muttering, "Even cuter when he's being tickled." Now that got her attention.

"What?"

Her tone was joyous and inquisitive and when Ted looked at her, she had an evil smile spreading across her face. That's more like it.

Ted sauntered back, sitting on the bed next to his brother. "Oh yeah, one thing you need to know about my lil bro is that he's like, crazy ticklish. Seriously, you're welcome, I just gave you the key to getting anything you want from him," he chuckled, only have joking.

Steph was looking at her boyfriend in a new light. "Thank you. That is... very intriguing information."

Ted made a show of cracking his knuckles as he spoke, "This is one of the only ways to actually get him up. Yeah an alarm will wake him up, but he won't actually get outta bed, ya know?" He was hunched over Peter's sleeping frame with hands hovering over his torso. He gave her a sly grin. "I don't get to do this as often as I used to, so I'll take any chance I can get."

Steph giggled and ducked her head, "I don't blame you."

Peter was laying on his side with his head resting on Steph's thighs, his knees tucked close to his chest. Ted started poking up and down his side, slow at first but gaining speed as he went. To Stephanie's delight, sleepy giggles slipped past his lips as he began to stir.

Sporadic poking turned to scribbling and the small huffs of laughter grew more consistent. His hands swatted blindly at offending ones, but lacked the strength or accuracy to protect himself.

"C'mon Pete, time to wake up," he cooed, one hand trailing up to scribble at his neck. A tiny squeal slipped out as Peter scrunched his neck, burying his face in the flannel tied around Steph's waist.

"Tehed leave mehehe alooone," he whined in his half asleep state. It took a second for his foggy brain to connect the dots, but once they did he was wide awake. He shot up so fast it startled both of them, Steph even letting out a startled squeak. "TED WHAT THE FUCK? GET OUTTA MY ROOM!" he yelled and pointed at the door, face quickly turning red.

Ted sat on the edge of the bed, completely frozen with his hands in the air as if he'd been caught by the police. He was fighting off his own laughter, mouth gaping open in shock at the outburst. Shock quickly gave way to amusement.

He wore a sly yet somehow sheepish grin as he looked at Stephanie. "I promise he usually isn't like this," he joked, shooting her a wink.

"GET OUT!" Peter repeated, using his long legs to his advantage, kicking his brother in the back to shove him off the bed. Ted stumbled to his feet, giving his brother a bewildered look. What the hell was his deal? Oh right, they weren't alone.

"Alright aright, I'm leaving," he admitted defeat. He only made it two steps before Stephanie spoke up.

"No you aren't." Peter stared at his girlfriend, a look of utter betrayal in his face. Ted's brows furrowed in confusion as he turned back around.

"I'm not?"

"Yeah, he's not?"

"Ted here was just about to give a detailed demonstration on all your tickle spots," she said, so matter of factly. Both Spankoffski brothers scoffed in shock before she continued, "Weren't you?" She looked at Ted expectantly, cocking her head to the side. There was something almost... challenging in her eyes. As if she dared him not to comply to her demands.

"I wasn't planning on it, but if you insist!" It took little to no convincing for Ted to take the golden opportunity presented here.

"No wait!" Peter protested, about to bolt off the bed when a hand around his wrist pulled him back. His nervous smile grew wider by the second. "Steph, let go."

"No," she said, an evil grin firmly in place. She snatched for his other wrist, and he moved it out of reach just in time. He held his arm out to the side as far as he could while Stephanie stretched across him, trying to grab him. She took the cheaters way out in the end and scribbled in his exposed armpit, causing him to slam his arm against his side for protection, a bark of laughter escaping past his lips. She easily caught his wrist and pulled both of his arms above his head.

"Thanks for being so cooperative babe," she said and Peter rolled his eyes.

"You're not welcome," he snarked.

"I'd be nicer if I were you. She doesn't look like she holds back," Ted chuckled as he sat on his ankles to keep him in place. Peter kicked and tugged on his legs, but they remained firmly trapped.

"C'mon guys, this isn't funny!"

"Really? Then why're you laughing?"

"But I'm not-" Peter was cut off with a shriek when Ted struck, squeezing his younger brother's boney knees. He yanked his arms down, catching Steph off guard with the level of strength he displayed. His hands immediately moved to cover his face and clamp over his mouth.

"Oh yeah, forgot to warn you, he's stronger than he looks," Ted added casually, as if he wasn't making Peter scream with laughter. "But knees: major weak spot." Steph nodded in understanding as she wrestled Peter's arms into her hold once more.

"Ohoho you're one toho tahahahalk!" he managed through his laughter.

"This isn't about me though, is it? Nooo, it's about you," he emphasized his point with a poke to his tummy, making him try to curl in on himself with a squeak. Ted continued, "Anyway, his belly's also pretty bad," he noted, forming a claw with his hand and hovered it in the air. Peter saw what he was doing and shook his head frantically.

"NO! Tehehed Ihihi'll kihihill you!" he threatened through giddy, nervous giggles. His older brother merely shrugged.

"I'd like to see you try," he said, not quite as condescending as usual.

Steph had had enough just watching and shifted his hands under her legs so she could join the fray. She looked at Ted expectantly.

"Where should I start?" she asked, smiling at the indignant cry Peter let out. Ted chuckled in amusement.

"Well he's ticklish just about anywhere, so knock yourself out," he encouraged, ignoring the indignant protest that mingled with Peter's laughter.

"Yeah, but what's a good spot?" she pressed further, seemingly unsatisfied with the vague answer.

"Well if you wanna hear the cutest giggles ever then go for his neck. Oh! And if you scratch at this one spot behind his ears he'll snort really loud, it's hilarious!"

"TEHEHED! Shut thehehe fuck uhup!" he shrieked, his cheeks taking on a dark pink hue from the flustering conversation taking place overhead.

"Wow, is that how you talk to your brother?" Steph asked in a taunting tone. Peter shook his head, babbling protests spilling from his mouth as she skittered her nails over his neck. Ted really wasn't kidding: this was probably the cutest sound she'd ever heard her boyfriend make. She was smiling down at him, her grin stretched from ear to ear as she scribbled her nails just behind his ears.

Peter snorted and tried hiding his face in the crook of his arm, but it still left half of it exposed for Steph's viewing pleasure.

“Oho my God, that’s so cute!” she exclaimed, leaning so far into his personal space they nearly touched noses. Ted fake gagged behind her back, for no one’s benefit but his own. “Do it again,” she ordered, using both hands to scratch at that spot.

A loud squeal was abruptly cut off by a giggly snort, and Peter turned a shade darker.

“Steheheph nohoho!” he whined, kicking his legs futilely where they remained pinned.

“Steph yes!” he cried, ducking down to blow a raspberry on his neck. Peter threw his head back, wild cackles filling the air. Ted leaned back, looking impressed and proud.

“Wow, and I didn’t even have to tell you about that!” he teased, reaching out to tweak Peter’s hips. He yelped, twisting side to side.

When Steph blew the third raspberry, Ted decided to show a little mercy. He grabbed a lock of Stephanie’s long hair, giving a few gentle tugs to get her attention, “Hey, we wanna keep him alive, yeah?” Steph looked over her shoulders, leveling him with a harsh glare as she yanked her hair back.

“You do?” Peter asked breathlessly from where he laid beneath his tormentors. They both chuckled and finally relented.

“Mhm,” Ted hummed cheerfully, standing up from the bed and dusting himself off.

“You got a funny way of showin’ it.”

“Hey, what’re brothers for?” he asked with a shrug. He held his hand out for a fist bump. Peter scoffed, looked at the hand, then at his brother. He sighed in defeat and gave him a fist bump. He turned back towards the door, ready to leave for real this time, when he was stopped once again by a familiar voice.

“I’ll get you back you know!”

Ted stopped in the doorway, one arm resting against the frame as he casually leaned on one foot. Peter was sitting up now, leveling him with a determined stare. It was a look Ted had seen before. He smirked; Peter rarely followed through on his threats.

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he said, classic condescending snark returning to his tone. He turned back around, only taking one step before another voice spoke up.

“He’s a lot braver now, you know.”

Ted spun around on his heels, retort ready on the tip of his tongue when he saw his brother standing by his bed, a confident smirk on his face.

Ted’s own cocky smile faltered into something a bit more nervous. He took a step back, holding his hands out in front of him.

“Hang on now, Pete. W-wait!”

Peter cocked his head, like Ted had done so many times at him. Well shit.

“Why would I do that?”

Ted saw movement from the corner of his eye and noticed Steph also stand.

“Hey, I helped you!”

“Actually, I asked for a comprehensive list of his tickle spots, and IIII don’t knooow… that didn’t seem like a fully comprehensive list to me.”

That little bitch!

Ted scoffed, “Did you just use me to get your way?”

Steph wore a truly radiant smile. “Get used to it.”

Ted took another step back. “I had to leave you some surprises!” he defended himself, shrieking when Peter lunged at him. He just barely escaped when Peter caught him by the shirt, sprinting out of his grasp. His celebration was short lived when he was tackled to the ground.

“Oh Ted, I bet you thought this day would never come. But it’s about damn time you had a taste of your own medicine.”

He could never take what he dished out.

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 29 #peter spankoffski #ted spankoffski #stephanie lauter #hatchetfield #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd fic #npmd tickle fic #ticklish!peter #ticklish!pete

[elsfairy]

Sevika accidentally exploding at you after a hard day at work, then later realising her mistake and doing literally anything to make it up to you

a/n: lol, I apologize if this is too sad or half-assed, it's a shitty day. this was only supposed to be short... shit.

just wanna put it out there that I don't think it's something that happens all of the time. she loves you and truly cares about you & your feelings so if she were to ever get mad, she would walk it off until she cooled down. That being said, it probably does happen when she's been working for so long and all she wants to do is sit the fuck down and forget about her day.

It wasn't that she intended for it to happen. You were just simply asking her if she wanted something to eat, or drink, and yet that small question made her snap. Sure you've seen her angry before, but never towards you. She got annoyed, or moody but other than that, she never shouted at you.

"Can you just, shut up for five fucking minutes? I'm tired"

Not the fuckin way she wanted to go about that conversation. She knew damn well you were sensitive. Sevika knew that shouting at you wouldn't fix her problem of being angry at work. Yet those words were instantly regretted when she noticed your smile falter as quickly as it appeared. Yeah, she fucked up.

The only thing she looked forward to after working was coming home to you, her Sweetheart. It wasn't that she meant to shout at you, everything was just getting on top of her and instead of getting up and walking away like she is used to doing when she was mad, she didn't. And yet? she knew to give you space. Because just because you loved her, you needed that moment to yourself while she sorted herself out.

Sevika always knew her mistakes the minute they happened. It didn't take her long to realize she was angry at the wrong person. You had done nothing but care for her, and look after her. You're the only person who she'd let this close to her, and knowing she had upset you? made her more upset than angry.

Was a weird setup but she would leave you be for a solid 30 minutes just to fix herself. She would take a short walk around the living room, pacing back & forth, having inner battles with her head, telling her she needed to just calm the fuck down because you didn't do anything wrong.

Rushing around your small apartment trying to find a solution. Flowers? or would you just throw them back at her? Chocolate? or would you throw them in the trash? Could even find your favorite food in the streets, but again, would you refuse to eat it because she shouted at you? would buying.. no, she can't just bribe you. no.

Yes, you were sensitive to many things, but you could never stop yourself when it came to curling up on her side of the bed, because it was hers and it smelt like her. As much as you'd like to be angry at her for the outburst, you did understand that she's been working harder & longer and it wasn't her fault. You understood she was exhausted, but still she didn't need to shout.

No doubt she finds you, curled up with her pillow to your chest after the 30 minutes are up and she feels god awful that she can hear you sniffling because of her. Doesn't get nervous, but when it involves you? god she's terrified you're gonna be angry this time.

"Babe?"

Tries not to chuckle when you cover your face with her fuckin pillow.

"I shouldn't have done that. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have shouted at you over something that's not your fault, never your fault. I'm just really tired, and I know that's not an excuse and it won't make up for telling you to shut the fuck up.. I am sorry.. if you want me to leave you alone for a while, I can do that.. just know that I didn't mean it.. i love you"

You know she had trouble voicing her feelings but you couldn't help the small smile that appeared on your face. of course she was looking around nervously and not even aware you were on the verge of giggling.

"I knew i should have gone with buying you flowers"

"Flowers? if you buy me flowers.. i will forgive you.."

Now you're bribing her?? the nerve on you.

"Fine, I will go and buy you every flower I can find it means you forgive me"

"I love you"

It's really fuckin hard to be angry at each other.

#sevika #arcane sevika #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika arcane

[sewercentipede]

ranting and raving💋

I don’t wanna be an asshole but my sister got diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and is like……. acting really just. idk how to explain it. But it’s making me wish she had literally anyone else to talk to. like for one thing I feel bitter at how there is literally just a simple blood test for this fuckin disease she has, while I had to go thru a decade of genuinely life destroying trauma horror and pain before I could get correctly diagnosed w crohns. not that I want her to go thru all that but like. Im still really fucked up from that and it’s hard to talk about this when she’s just talking about how she caused this to herself subconsciously thru hating herself and her life is over at 33 and her life has been shitty and she’s ugly and old looking and not going to have a stable living situation soon and idk what to say honestly. she was not around for any of the horrible fucked up shit that happened to me. she did not take my illness seriously she would say I used it as an excuse and then when she did take it seriously (meaning after I almost died) it was just patronizing. she was not there when I was LICHERALLY HOMELESS. I wonder if she would be less insensitive if she had witnessed a fraction of it firsthand. she’s all about the “we cause disease in ourselves because of our subconscious feelings and beliefs” thing which I despise. It’s literally just self-pity mixed with self-(or victim)-blame. But I don’t want to be callous toward her and be like “think of how good you have it” because that shit is garbage. my mom did that to me and it was just awful.

I just feel like i can’t handle this im not over any of it my life is still completely fucked and nothing about my life or my health is secure. I cannot be a “liaison” for introducing normal healthy people to the world of chronic incurable illness. everyday im just trying not to kill myself

I feel like a piece of shit person because I felt so bad for her at first and the more I talk to her the more I’m just. bitter. tired

#autoimmune disease

[degreeofdisorder]

young royals s3e5 episode reaction:

well I really hope the cliffhanger isn't horrifying bc this week is gonna be really fucking long

let's fuckin do this

"tired" and it's just him contending w the fact that erik might have been violently homophobic

i can excuse [rolls down a 6ft long papyrus] but I draw the line at being racist - august, probably

"family" LMFAO sure dumbass

seriously those girls are acting like sara and felice broke up (and I get it, friendship breakups are horrifying but damn)

"are you on something?" MY LITERAL FIRST QUESTION SKFISJFKSJFKDJF

I feel like micke is gonna die. idk.

his own letter? why?

oh. hello ludwig. i forgot what your voice sounded like.

"it's hard for her to show weakness" yeah well so it is for all of us. be a mother. show up for your son.

naaaaaaaaaaa volvete serio ludwig

wdym he was perfect. are you serious. do no adults in this show have the slightest bit of common sense?? you're talking to erik's spare my man. erik's little brother who now has to take on everything erik had to do. be the most fuckin for real rn

of fucking COURSE

"it'll be nice to celebrate you. and to meet simon too" ok that was sweet.

yeah wille being in the choir was starting to feel too weird skfjdkfjd

okay? calm your tits my man? simon hasn't said anything?

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON????? HE'S LITERALLY DEFENDING ERIK?????????

oooooookay kristina jr.

ohhhh it was sara's locker. ok.

oh micke is dead isn't he

FELICE DOING WILLE'S NAILS AAAAAA

HE'S PAINTING THEM PURPLE SOULMATISM

also is this the writers acknowledging the nonbinary wille headcanons bc.......

I can't believe wille likes doing his nails. that's so fuckin nonbinary of him.

god I wish micke had been dead. that is SO much worse.

pls don't get into a car crash sara

linda honey no. it doesn't fit him perfectly it's goddamn huge on him.

love shouldn't be this hard I agree linda

oh fuck me

oh her little face sara no

oh sara is breaking my goddamn heart

WILLE'S PURPLE NAILS

wilhelm, why do you have nail polish remover in your room

MI WILLE I'M GONNA FUCKING BLOW MY BRAINS OUT

omg malin was willing to be bribed. back to fanon malin we go (after the shit show that was season 2)

WHY IS HE WEARING THE PYJAMA PANTS AGAIN SIMON

okay this is killing me inside. this is too much.

BECAUSE THERE'S A RISK OF POISONING SJFKDJFKJFDKFJDKFKFKFKDLRK

simon's FACE im

SHE CURTSIED @ SIMON

I know he must have felt disgusting sjfkdjfk

after pretty much 3 years of a polar opposite fanon interpretation I cannot *believe* I'm witnessing kristina and ludwig being genuinely happy about meeting simon. this is so insane

august are you staring at sara's boobs

oh a rolex

OH IS IT BECAUSE OF ERIK

IT IS BECAUSE OF ERIK OG FUCKKKKK

I missed sara and felice I'm ngl. I love my tiny baby girls

oh kristina is about to throw up isn't she lmfao

ludwig is being weirdly nice. this is so strange.

ludwig and simon chatting away while kristina is about to choke and die

hold on. IS kristina gonna die?

even during wille's birthday they can't stop yapping about erik. my god do royals genuinely only care about their firstborn? god

NOT DILF HUNTER SJROSUFOSIDOD

class bad boy slfjdlgj I think they had to have done that on purpose. I mean vincent didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of giving him another award. I can assure you.

august is such a *sad* character oh my god

I WISH I HAD DONE THINGS DIFFERENTLY WITH YOU NAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW

oh of course she kissed him.

WHAT A SNITCH WTF

im

"please don't leave me alone with your parents like that again" honestly wille they could've eaten him alive

my god wilhelm you're being SO NASTY

OH HE'S GOING OFFF

oh ldkgldjgldjfldjffl

I can ASSURE YOU during my s2 liveblogging at one point I basically wrote "[points at ludwig] AND YOU" bc i was so fucking done with his bullshit skrjdlrkdlrkld

to hear wille going AND *YOU* is fucking sending me help

IT ISN'T EASY TO BE BOTH YOUR MOTHER AND YOUR BOSS OH FUCK OFF KRISTINA

I NOTICED BECAUSE YOU'RE SO USELESS AT BOTH HOLY FUCKING SWEET JESUS CHRIST

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD

me rn:

my god this is the most cathartic shit I've seen in my life

OH AND SIMON IS WATCHING THE WHOLE THING

god

I knew the cliffhanger was gonna be that

but I didn't expect them to cry like that nor did I expect ME to cry like that

bro I'm sobbing I can't wait another week

#yr livenats #yr s3 spoilers #young royals spoilers

[spotsupstuff]

I'VE COME TO RELIEVE YOU FROM THE HOARDE OF BEPPI LOVERS

this is your free ramble pass! feel free to use this ask as an excuse to ramble about whatever random crap you feel like rambling about

hmm..... how about... broadening the worldbuilding horizons a lil with some of the filler Iterators. here's the list of names that i'm slowly workin on to develop into enough of people for my tastes

most well defined of these rn are: Orion, Spore, Gem, Expiation, Rustle, NAE NAE BITCH (Embrace), Vapor and kind of Sadness

with Presence being... finished on account of literally being just IKEA memes the Iterator. that was sister's idea, not mine jglksdmcklsd he's a hippie during the day, creepy fuck during the night. one never knows what's goin on with him, but he's usually sweet n helpful. probably stands in dark hallways with a knife in hand right next to Notos tho. it also has a knife in hand

Orion's Pathway is slowly gaining on importance and characterization!

(quick concept doodle, very much subject to change yet but the mark is most likely gon stay)

he's the 3rd eldest Iterator of the Eo group, finished and brought online about 190 years (Or Honestly More, Fuckers Big n it is all very early on yet) after Boreas' construction. bein the Third means he actually got to socialize with Boreas' antisocial bum (and Zephyr too). all of the Iterator social business that Boreas doesn't wanna deal with he throws at This Kid until Euros comes around. then the two get to share Boreas' "i really don't wanna do this, here you kids go" shit

Orion might look all cool and stuff, but the idea of him wasn't actually even born out of the constellation/myth originally! the idea and also color palette all (will) come from the czech chocolate by the same name

fuckin Love this shit. and just like Orion Chocolate Shop's milk chocolate, Orion's Pathway is a sweet, soft kid that is just a delight to interact with. unlike Boreas, he's an actual angel without any blemishes. he's like the Prince Charming (cinderella 3) of the Iterators... he looks up to ol' Bee a lot <3 his voice claim is Ebucs as of rn

Orion is positioned here on the map (aaaand das Spore right under him <3):

which is Important cuz this darling fucker actually has lore that is very location specific

he serves as something of a physical border/something of a custom office(???) to the Frost's Promise group. works well with how much of a geographical choke point that there is. originally, this wasn't the case including his whole helmet look, but if u caught the whisper of that one war with Iterators in it that i mentioned, then this was it. that changed Orion from a regular Iterator to something of a border guard. the war was between the Ancients of the Eo group and the Frost's Promise group. it happened in the first quarter of Gen 2 ages, so Fish was already around but not Euros

he doesn't actually have a sword n a shield with his puppet, that is mostly mural and such stuff, but the helmet was added to make him look inspiring to his citizens n intimidating to the enemy whenever his image would be projected for whatever reason

he's also something of an old school Phone Operator and had the unofficial title of being the Chief of it just because of his age. after Euros shows up and gets the full hang of the communication systems + handling of the Aeolus Root, most of all Orion's Phone Operator privilages are stripped from him ("oh thank the void." he says, overworked and tired and so excited to get some time for himself. this little hyperactive red fuck is gonna handle it all Just Fine)

stuff for some other filler Iterators:

• Spore's whole thing was that she was originally meant to be one of the first medicine focused Iterator facilities. her placement in the shroom place was done on purpose because as we all know shrooms can get a lil funny in the RW universe. this went wrong though, when the spores of the shrooms got into her systems and started parasiting on her neurons similarly to cordyceps with ants. that is what those jellyfish lookin things stuck on her are!! parasitic neurons already tryin to take her over

a big part of Mission Self-preservation in her case was saving her from the fate that we see her succumbed to at the start of the Ascending Notos comic - her voice claim is something like... Fluttershy but with a Minion from Despicable Me effect/feel to it??? this is the real blorbo of the Eo group fuck everybody else • this is NAE. NAE is a bastard

often bitches about how stupid his name is. then two weeks after the Mass Ascension his arms just kinda Fall Off and he's like "OOOOOH. OOOOOOOOH. *OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!* WELL *SOME-FUCKING-BODY* IS GIGGLING FROM THE BOTTOM OF THEIR VOID STAINED BATHTUB, AREN'T THEY. MOTHER. **FUCKER.**" - he's Euros' neighbour and his Mechanic at that time came to help Sparrows out with the 1st Rot situation. Euros likes annoying him a lot • Gem in an Eye is going to be based off of a witch a lil, she's gonna do shit with ✨ crystals ✨ (she's an asshole) • Sordid Expiation will be based off of a nun and will be bitchily religious (unlike Fish who is funnily religious- he's like a conspiracy theorist while Expiation is all serious bleeeeegh boooooo 👎) - Gem and Expiation have a playful rivarly going on, crystals vs religion. with Spore in the friend group, medicine joins in, but when she gets worse with those parasitic shrooms she stops joining in on the play-arguments • Raspy Rustle's voice claim is AnnenMayKantereit and he is a Sweetheart. he and Reed get mistaken for each other often because of the initials n they might end up havin similar chat clrs too. both find it very funny • Vapor is based around the vaporwave aesthetic and is Notos' neighbour. so you have this goth bitch who doesn't care for attention and right next to it is this pastel neon chillax'd music star who cares a LOT for attention (like that one meme with the houses...). her mark is that vaporwave sun and it's splattered all over her face instead of just on the forehead • Sadness is based off of Sad Machine by Porter Robinson- her clr palette will be sampled from the album cover n her voice claim is That song as well. she's closeby to Fish and Likes Writing Poems :')

#Spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #oc: filler iterators #filler means at this point that they dont have That much relevance to the main plot like the Anemoi + Fish n i will not go Too hog on- #-givin em much characterization and society building. believe it or not but Orion still doesnt pass the Big Boy Char check for me #oh fuck it actually Orion gets his own tag #oc: orion's pathway

[soldier-poet-king]

I love my Nonna dearly but I also just got my first real "here's how you should find a man" advice so truly 2023 IS my Charlotte Lucas year

To be fair, I'll give them credit, this is one of the first times my family has pulled this shit on me. I suppose my "I'm too busy focusing on school" excuse that I used through all 8 years of undergrad and grad school doesn't really work now that I've been working full-time for a year. And she also didn't bring it up in front of everyone or out of the blue, it came up because we had been discussing how insane my motherhas been about babies lately and my Nonna said "oh it's BC she's waiting for grandkids"

And like??? Just because my mother got married and had kids by my age (which may have been the right decision for her, this isn't judging even if I think her life went to shit bc of it) doesn't mean it's the right decision for ME

In fact, it is the ABSOLUTE WRONG decision for me. Theres a whole long list of reasons why I'm not getting married + or having children, including but not limited to: the trauma of my parents marriage and my childhood, my own ongoing health stuff, the whole religious queer anxiety guilt complex I've got going, the fact that if I were to get pregnant the resulting mental health crisis and dysphoria would undoubtedly make me *** y'know not soemthing that is frequently a source of nightmares for me or anything, my inability to take care of myself let alone CHILDREN, and the anxiety of raising children religious when I don't even know wtf is going on with me, CHILDREN??? IN THIS ECONOMY????

Ofc I can't exactly say any of this to my Nonna who, while incredibly sweet and loving and Good, is also like. Not at all exposed to these concepts and would probably freak out if I was like hello yes I am a big fat queer and I rlly hate the concept of gender and societal ideas of womanhood :) it also doesn't help that rlly the only single, middle aged woman my Nonna knows is this lady who works at the church who is DEFINITELY a badly closeted lesbian but also she's super fuckin mean and condescending and no one likes her BC she's a bitch, on top of the whole being a badly closeted lesbian in a conservative heteronormative religious environment

Like even IF I were to get licitly Catholic married to a man. You wanna find one for me??? My Nonna was like "go to church more to find a man" HELLO??? WHERE??I GO TO MASS EVERY WEEK?? Every religious man I know irl is a radtrad women can't wear pants type or is a manchild. Even if I COULD find a normal man, he'd have to get real cool about some stuff real quick. In that forever dilemma of too leftist queer for the religious and too religious for the leftist queers. (Obvs your partner doesn't have to be your duplicate but I'm like. Generally being on the same page. The same BALLPARK. is probably conducive to having a healthy relationship, y'know?)

Besides a significant part of my having 0 social life is because I am living in my parents basement which is in a shitty not-a-suburb of mostly immigrant families with youngish kids or super old folks from when the neighborhood was built, so it's poor and run down but also super fuckin far from anything To Do, so it's the WORST of both worlds of urban sprawl. And I have no car. And I already spend 2.5 hrs a day commuting for work. And I'm chronically tired. And joining a fencing club or taking art class or whatever costs MONEY y'know the thing I'm trying to SAVE by living in this hell place???? She literally said in the same convo "live here as long as possible to save money" like??? YOU CANT HAVE UR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO as long as I'm living here I'm NOT going out and meeting ppl BC there is literally Nowhere To Go. Big box stores like Walmart? Yet another strip mall? The highway??? THIS IS SOULLESS HELL of neither nature NOR accessible city amenities

And anyway, I would rather be in a long term marriage for tax benefits relationship anyway. Not platonic, not romantic, but a secret third thing (jk but also serious). Like. Mutual devotion that blurs the lines and transcends labels. It could be completely chaste. It could not be. It's not a dealbreaker really. It's about trust and devotion and companionship and love. But also I'm insane and I KNOW how insane and obsessive I sound, and society prioritizes nuclear family relationships and not the weird ass shit I crave, and I feel too much too fast and would ruin any relationship I had even if I WERE to somehow find someone who prioritizes those things too

So like. It's fine. Most days (not all ofc, but I'm trying) I'm okay with this and being on my own and learning to cultivate my own peace and Goodness and I know who I am and what I believe and what I trust to be Good and I'm working toward that and I'm not sacrificing it for anything. But also. Can you give a bitch a break. Please. I'm so fkin tired

#franposting #my bday isnt even til JUNE #im going to bitch anyway #im genuinely really upset but part of that is bc my headache has come back #and its worse than ever #i might cry but my head already hurts too much #i got really good news at work and only the men in my family made a big deal #the women were just. meh. and ofc none of them have careers so why should ot be important to me? #as the only granddaughter ofc :)))) #i am going. to crawl into bed. hair washed. lavender candle on. #do a lil meal planning. and then read or maybe just sleep. #tmrws goals after church are gym and grocery shopping before dnd #have to make my body hurt so much i cant think again #ofc bro 1 has claimed the car. so maybe i cant go #god. gos. i fuckin need to get out of here #but i literally cannot afford even studio apt rent in the city #and moving to one of the boroughs doesnt gwt me any closer to anything esp without a car #literally. just like. fuckin kill me #or find me a decently paid not soul killing job in a smaller city or even a town #where i could have a garden #or a porch swing. sit in. the sunlight

[cyncerity]

:0 part two to the karlnapity sizeshifter reveal fic? it was so good i'd love to see fluff or noms with them if you wanted too :D

This was literally like 5th thing in my inbox, and was asked the same day i posted the first part to this au, which means it’s been in there for well over a year.

Anyway i haven’t stopped thinking about it. It’s always just kinda been in the back of my mind, so i hope this anon is still around to see it actually get answered shsklssjshw

So, without further ado, here are some karlnapity soft noms 💖

tw: vore

“Sapnap, i’m fuckin tired. And hungry. Get me food.” Quackity said, burying his face further into Sapnap’s chest where he was laying and weakly slapping the “ground” below him to make a point. Karl weakly nodded in agreement from his place laying beside him. Sapnap sighed. “I would love to if you two would get up for 2 seconds and let me grab something from the fridge.” He responded, barely looking up from a comic book he’d taken earlier that day.

Ever since Sapnap had told his fiancés he was a shifter, it had opened up a whole new world for them, and the three of them loved it. Quackity and Karl could boss Sapnap around a bit and make him gather things cause it’s be “easier for him” and he has an “advantage cause he could blend in with the humans.” Which, to be fair, was true, but Sapnap had a feeling that his boyfriends were just lazy. Not that he minded, he preferred the teasing over them being scared of him (like he had expected) by a long shot. It made him happy to know that even if he didn’t feel 100% ok at his human size yet, they trusted him fully, even if he looked like something they were all taught to fear. They’d also taken to hanging out in the employee break room after the store closed. Even if they loved the traditional hole in the wall home they’d built together, the break room had a microwave, fridge, beanbag chairs, and other cool human things that it had taken the trio way too long to figure out how to use (especially the microwave).

Which led to where they were now; Sapnap at human size reclined on a beanbag with his two tiny fiancés laying half asleep on his chest at what had to be around 2 in the morning. And as much as he loved them and was internally awwing and screaming at how cute they looked and how much they trusted him (they were his boyfriends, all right? he was allowed to fawn and simp over them as much as he wanted), he was actually pretty hungry and also tired and was getting sick of their refusal to move and let him get them food so they could fucking sleep. He loved them but god could they be impossible.

“Just shift a bit more and reach the fridge, it can’t be that hard.” Quackity said, face still shoved down in the fabric of Sapnap’s hoodie. Karl once again just nodded in agreement, though Sapnap didn’t think Karl was actually processing anything. Sapnap groaned. “I fucking hate shifting that big. I don’t wanna.” “Oh so you’re gonna let your fiancés starve huh? Rude.” “Fine, ok, i’m not playing this game, but you owe me, alright?” “Yup, whatever you want.”

Sapnap smirked at that last bit. Since Sapnap had found out about some…other abilities, he and his fiancés had been testing those a bit more often. One in particular they’d only tested out a few times, but for Sapnap, the few times he’d done it had been absolute bliss, and now he had an excuse to do it again.

But he had to get to the fucking fridge first. Sapnap groaned obnoxiously just to show Quackity how annoyed he was (he assumed Karl had fallen asleep at this point, given that he had gone practically still and his breathing had evened after the last time he nodded) and began to turn around on the beanbag. He had been facing the fridge, so he had to shift so he could reach the other end of the room, and he had a grow a good bit in order for his arm to be able to grab the door. Without any more hesitation, he began to shift bigger.

He held back a grunt of pain. He didn’t shift bigger than human size often cause it took more energy than was worth it most of the time, and now that he was tired it was especially achy. He didn’t want Quackity to feel bad for suggesting it, though, and the thought of what Sapnap would get to do after kept him going. He moved agonizingly slowly and carefully to not disturb the two on his chest (and especially to not wake Karl), but eventually he managed to reach over to open the fridge and grabbed the first thing his hand touched, quickly closing it and shifting back, pulling the thing he grabbed back with him.

He laid a hand over his fiancés to steady them as he looked over the food in his hand. Huh. One of those meat and cheese snack packs. Could definitely be worse.

Quackity pushed one of Sapnap’s fingers away gently and looked up expectantly, tapping Karl to wake him. Karl hummed a bit but made no move to lift his head. Sapnap chuckled and removed the packaging from the snack and handed 2 little blocks of what he assumed were cheddar cheese and pepperoni to his boyfriends and watched Quackity eat both of his almost immediately and Karl take a few bites out of each before falling asleep again soon after. Quackity ate his fair share before looking up at Sapnap again, confusion clear on his face.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Sapnap just smirked. “Nah, I was hungry for something else tonight.” He grinned wider as he gently swiped a thumb across Quackity’s cheek, watching his boyfriends eyes widen face darken in color, freezing in place for a minute before he sighed, trying to hide a smile. “C’mon, Sap, really?” “Yeah, really, you owe me, remember?” “For fucks sake, do I have t- hey!!” Quackity was cut off by Sapnap reaching to his head and plucking the bandana he always wore off, taking joy in messing up his fiancés hair, and lightly tossing it into his mouth, swallowing shortly after. “You want that back, right?” Sapnap said slyly, a lighter blush forming across his cheeks.

“…fuck you.” Quackity responded, face deadpan but still the same shade of red, showing Sapnap that he wasn’t really as opposed to this as he’d like to seem. Quackity began to climb higher on Sapnap’s shirt before Sap just brought a hand under him and lifted him up to his face. “You ready?” “Again, fuck you.” “Q, be honest with me here, im not gonna do this without your permission.” Sapnap responded, a note of concern in his voice. Fuck, this was why Q fell for him. As much as Sanap was brash and kinda stupid, he was the most genuine and kind boyfriend a borrower could ever want. Even if he was a bit weird. So, he sighed and smiled, rolling his eyes before making eye contact with the giant in front of him. “Just get on with it already, you’re hungry, aren’t you? I’m good.”

Sapnap smiled at the fond look his fiancé gave him and began to lift him higher. He slowly brought his hand closer to his mouth and used his tongue to pull his tiny boyfriend in, gently shutting his teeth behind him with a soft click. After he felt Quackity get settled, he started to lick him, slicking him up for the journey down. He heard Quackity yell in disgust, but he simply stifled a laugh and kept going.

He tilted his head back gently, letting gravity pull Quackity farther back into the throat. He felt a few gentle pats on his tongue and took this as his que, starting to take small swallows to bring his fiancé down. He gently pressed a hand to his throat and felt the bulge that his lover made as he descended farther down past his collarbone and deep into his core, shifting and moving slightly the rest of the way down only because Sapnap had admitted to him once that it felt nice.

He soon felt a weight drop into his stomach, the organ giving a loud gurgle in response, making Quackity laugh from within. Sapnap flustered a bit and pressed down where he could feel his boyfriend for a few seconds to mess with him before releasing the pressure and starting to massage the area. “You alright in there, duckling?” “Santo mierda,” Quacktiy sighed as Sapnap felt him get more comfortable, “I forgot how tight it was on the way down. There is, like, no tension left in me at all, it’s like the worlds most constricting massage.” “So…you’re good?” Quackity chuckled a bit in response before patting on the stomach wall next to him. “Yeah, i’m good. And i got my bandana back, so, again, fuck you.”

Sapnap laughed as he continued to rub circles over where he felt his little fiancé, trying his best to ignore the consistent gurgles his stomach would make and the fact that Quackity seemed to find it hilarious, though he was trying to hide his laughter. Whatever, Sapnap knew he hadn’t eaten real food, he’d just ignore the noises for now. Unfortunately, someone else was having a harder time ignoring it.

“…Sapnap?” Karl said, rubbing bleary eyes as he sat up from his position on the shifter’s chest, causing Sapnap to panic almost immediately. “Oh my god, Karl, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up.” “You didn’t, your stomach did.” Karl laughed, yawning and stretching his arms. “Did you forget to eat?” “Hmmm, not quite,” Sapnap smirked, laying a finger on Karl’s head and lightly messing with some of his hair, which the smaller man made no complaints against, “but isn’t someone missing?” At this, Karl looked up at Sapnap past his finger and then around the area where Quackity had been with him. He looked confused for only a moment before he registered what Sapnap had meant. “You two are weird.” Karl scoffed, pressing himself more into the finger in a headbutt-like form of affection.

“You wanna be weird with us?” Sapnap asked, licking his lips so Karl could know exactly what he meant. But while Karl’s face turned a light pink at this, he merely shrugged. “Not tonight, too tired for all that. I just wanna sleep.” Karl said, shifting himself to slide further down Sapnap’s torso. The shifter was confused for a moment until Karl reached the bottom of his shirt and tried valiantly to lift it higher, and Sapnap turned red, realizing what his boyfriend was trying to do. He reached down and pulled his shirt up higher since Karl was having trouble moving it by himself, and Karl wasted no time climbing back up until he was right above Quackity. Karl pressed against the top of the stomach from the outside and Sapnap saw his eyes light up as Quackity pressed back.

“Hi lovely!” Karl shouted, face practically pressed into Sapnap’s belly, which definitely didn’t fluster the shifter at all. “Karlos!!” He heard Quackity call back, shouting loud enough that Karl could barely hear him through the layers of muscle and skin between them. “Sorry we woke you up, mi amor.” “That’s alright, i’m gonna go back to bed, i just didn’t want you to fall asleep without knowing how much i loooove yooou.” Karl responded in a sleepy, drawn out syrupy voice, which made Quackity laugh loud enough for Sapnap to feel the vibrations. “I love you too, Karl, goodnight darling. Just one question, though: how flustered is Sapnap right now?” Karl looked up and, though Sapnap did his best to avoid eye contact, he couldn’t easily hide the bright red that shone through his cheeks. “I’m not, fuck off.” Sapnap retorted, looking back at Karl to see a cheeky grin on his face. He pressed his face back into Sapnap’s torso, the pride clear in his voice as he responded “Oh, very.”

“Ok, enough, this is bullying, this is harassment.” Sapnap said, picking up Karl with one hand and laying his free hand over his stomach, effectively blocking out Karl and Quackity’s communication. Nevertheless, now both boys were just trying to get Sapnap flustered, with Karl making kissy noises in his direction and Quackity rattling off some of the worst pick up lines Sapnap had ever heard.

He just laughed, blushing and sputtering excuses while the two he cared more about than anything in the world laughed with him. God, what did he do to deserve them? They were his world, his everything. He loved them. He loved them more than he could ever love anything.

Their laughter died down, fatigue finally catching up with them after what could only have been the past few minutes. Sapnap set Karl back down on his chest, where the smaller man immediately slid back down and rested himself above the hand Sapnap still had laid over Quackity. Karl was out like a light almost immediately after he was settled, and Quackity joined him shortly after. Sapnap stayed awake a bit longer, just looking down at them. He could feel Quackity’s calm, even breaths from within him, and Karl had a slight smile on his face, a light pink still brushing his cheeks. He felt like every time he looked at them, he fell in love all over again. How he got lucky enough to end up with the most caring, understanding partners in the world was beyond him, but it meant more to him when he saw them like this. Quackity trusting him enough to sleep literally within him, where he was fully at Sapnap’s will. And Karl not flinching away from him for a moment, even choosing to rest on his hand, trusting Sapnap not to grab him or hurt him. His heart swelled the more he thought about it. They trusted him. And, as he fell asleep, he promised himself that he’d make sure they always had a reason to.

#i love writing cute relationship stuff but only for like karlnapity specifically for some reason #and c!beeduo but i’ve only done that once #i’ve written a lot of karlnapity shit #anyway i hope y’all like it!! #i’ll post poll results soon <3 #cyncerity #cynwrites #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #tw vore #soft vore #safe vore #sizeshifter!sapnap au #store shifter au #g/t vore #g/t karlnapity #giant!sapnap #tiny!karl #tiny!quackity #also if you’re the anon that asked for this please lmk if you’re still here i just think it’s be really funny #also i hope you like it after waiting all this time hskslsksh

[lunatriense]

I am not in the RWDE camp and probably never will be but God it is refreshing to see criticism for how much attention Jaune has been getting this volume. Like this is what, the fourth time consecutively a girl ended up sidelined (weiss), murdered (penny), or both (ruby Right Now) all so jaune can cry about it and be all sad and every character can turn their attention onto him. the only reason I don't want him to just stay in the ever after is because Ren Nora and Oscar deserve better than no closure on their leader just ditching forever. ruby isn't going to get closure on penny because jaune takes up too much time. _wby arent allowed to have organic reactions about Anything going on because jaune's paper family is more important I guess. he didn't even apologize for blaming ruby for everything going wrong and yelling at her so hard that she ran away into neo's tea party torture chamber. ruby is 17 years old. jaune is roughly in his 40s, presumably. he has had years in literal wonderland to get over this, there is no excuse for his behavior and I just hope this last episode realizes this and makes him idk. fuckin apologize to ruby for exploding at her, at least. also the whiterose bait is gross and I am tired of it goodnight

You don't have to be part of our little community to see how shite Jaune is anon, we welcome you nonetheless lol. And yeah, not even just this volume; he's been getting that focus basically since the beginning. Between Jaundice, Pyrrha's fridging, Weiss' impalement so he can freak out and get his semblance, the statue scene, Penny's assisted suicide, and now Ruby's suicide, the only volumes where he hasn't had this happen are 1 and 7.

I still want him dead though, or at least to stay in the EA. Nora and Ren can get closure by having the others tell them what happened, and then they can forget about him like everybody else immediately forgot about Pyrrha, Penny, and Ruby. Fuck that guy, all my homies hate that guy.

#rwde #answers #anti jaune arc #jaune arc bashing #jaune arc critical