#and if i can see it. me who is literally still a teenager and not yet an adult. thats fucking concerning man

[with-my-calamitous-love]

I DONT LIKE ANYONE EXCEPT SOMETIMES YOU

shinso x reader

thoughts about how shinso would act in a relationship. same premise as the kirishima ver.

lovey dovey stuff, teenagers suck but love can be a beautiful thing <3

a/n: you guys ate up every summertime and started SLEEPING on NIKI. go listen to her music rn >:( song is backburner

a/n: me writing about the men who will treat me right (they literally don’t exist)

hitoshi shinso, who’s facetimes with you always run late into the night. you ramble on about your day while he hums in response, knowing that you know he’s not the talkative type. he never asks “how was your day?” he always says “tell me about your day.” because he really, truly wants to hear about your day. you could have cured a disease or simply just gotten out of bed, and he’d still want to hear every single detail simply because its from you.

hitoshi shinso, who loves to cook. only you're aware of it, because he doesn't always like sharing personal details with others, but you never complained- it just means more for you. you're always the first person that gets to try his food, though he claims you're not a very good critic. but you can't help it, everything he makes tastes so good. and with every compliment you shower him in, he'll hit you with a 'yeah, yeah, whatever.' and then next moment, make you more so you can always stay fed during long days at UA and long hours during hero-training. its his silent way of telling you he loves you.

hitoshi shinso, whose cats love you more than they love him. he has three triplets, a black british short hair, a siamese, and a grey ragdoll- pepper, lexi, and mustache- he absolutely hates the last name, but he had just adopted the kitten and you named it for its white streak right below its nose. he'll deny it forever, but he gets pouty and huffs in annoyance whenever he sees the cats run to you, even after he's fed and taken care of them for all of their lives. but he also cant deny the way his heart skips a beat whenever he seems them cuddled up with you on his bed, wearing one of his big t-shirts. it softens his heart in a way that nothing else does- your love fills his heart more strongly and more passionately than anything does.

hitoshi shinso, who is the closed-off, funny but quiet dickhead of his friend group. he's known for his out-of-pocket roasts at the right times and his nonchalant nature that contrasts with the loud, spunkiness of his multicolored-haired friends. but with you, he softens. the few times he's brought you along with him to movie night or training sessions, you've softened his heart enough for the love in him to seep out towards others as well. whenever you crack a joke, make someone else at the table smile, and draw laughs and happiness from their chests, a blush blooms across his cheeks. obviously, he fell for you, how could he not?

hitoshi shinso, who's favorite activity with you is your sunday-ritual. you'll wake up together, either in the same bed or over the phone, and bike down to the coast. you'll bug him about wearing a helmet, but he always complains that it ruins your hair. he'd never admit that its because he thinks you're absolutely adorable when you dote on him. afterwards he'll share a smoothie with you- he hates all the flavors except for mixed berry, which is the one he always insists on getting. he hates the the overpricing for what the product actually is, but loves the smile it puts on your face after a tiring bike-ride. and afterwards, you two will go back to either his of your place. his place if your parents aren't home, and his place when his parents are home, and binge watch a long t.v show of your choosing. he'll always complain that its stupid, poorly written or drawn out, but get pouty whenever you watch an episode without him. it's the one thing he looks forwards to at the end of a long week, drawn out with endless studies, training, and burnout. you're his safe place, and he needs it more than he'll admit.

hitoshi shinso, who somehow remembers every tiny detail about you. his mind works like gears, arranging formulas and deciphering codes, but the intellect of his mind makes you its priority. he remembers the way you pick your nails and cuticles when you have anxiety, and how placing his warm palm over yours soothes some of those thoughts. he remembers how prefer to tie your hair back during training but how you somehow always forget a hair tie- and he knows how you always give him a peck on his cheek once he shows off the one he's been keeping on his wrist for you. he remembers how you can't sleep without your nightly calls, and how he needs to hear your voice before he drifts of too- maybe more than you need it. he remembers the first day you met, the first thing he said to you, the first time he ever felt love for you. he remembers all of it and keeps it embedded in his heart. hitoshi shinso may seem like he hates everyone, but the one exception to that is you. and he'll remember that forever.

#bnha x reader #bnha dabi #bnha manga spoilers #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha bakugou #mha deku #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #hitoshi shinsou #bnha shinso hitoshi #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x y/n #denki kaminari #mha dabi #my hero acedamia #bakugou katsuki #bnha eijiro kirishima #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #hitoshi shinso x y/n #mha oc #mha spoilers #bnha x you

[dukeofdelirium]

https://www.tumblr.com/xabura/752028677741608960/bryke-confirming-that-katara-loves-aang-like-a?source=share

I gotta ask you something? Apparently there was a behind the scenes interview and Bryke compared Katara loving Aang like a babysitter or to a younger brother. This confuses me so much. Especially seeing as this is from the creators who are Pro Kataang as far as I know and the show itself contradicts this as Katara doesn’t view herself as babysitter or Aang as a younger brother despite what the ZKs will say. What does this mean? Are the ZKs right? 😱

Zutarians are so obsessed with trying to find canon “validation” for their fanon ship that they’re digging up shit from almost 20 years ago and then misconstruing what Bryke even said 😂

Bryke didn’t literally say “Katara and Aang are like siblings and her role in the story is to be his babysitter”. They were talking about how they liked teenage drama stuff and always found it fun and engaging, which is why they then began discussing common tropes WITHIN said genre of “teen drama” which is a younger guy liking an older girl and how said girl usually viewed him more platonically at least at first.

They were literally just discussing different things that they found some sort of inspiration in or that they wanted to play on in some manner in their own storytelling. They weren’t literally discussing Kataang itself as it is written when they mentioned genre tropes 🤦🏻‍♂️ they then go on to say they feel that Katara is really the “heart” of the group while Aang is the “spirit”, and that Katara is really the first person Aang feels a deep connection to and that she and Sokka are like his new family. They are also strictly discussing book 1.

Bryke drawing some kind of inspiration from teen drama and its many tropes doesn’t make anything in their show a 1 to 1 replica or iteration of such. Writers know how inspiration fuels their own work, and I say that as a writer myself. Small things can spark ideas of your own, especially if you enjoy the tropes and genres already which bryke literally said they frequently watched happily.

It’s crazy to me that they still try so hard to invalidate kataang by failing to actually listen to anything bryke is saying as they meant it. The whole behind the scenes thing was also not even for ATLA itself but was rather over the M Night movie. Like???? Zutara is never gonna happen, stop trying to make it happen 😂 kataang is canon and endgame. “reeee they’re siblings!!!!!” they had 3 kids 💀

#do they not ever get tired lmao #kataang #pro kataang #avatar the last airbender #atla #anon #anti zutara

[reallifetangent]

A take I wanna have (please don't yell at me or attack me. Corrections might be okay, it's late for me and English is not my main language):

Edwin's love interests. Less to best for him.

Cat King on the less. I know. I love his character, he's very charismatic. I love the teasing and seeing how far he can push Edwin's limits and face his own feelings. I do live for that in some ships. Their dynamic is interesting but let's be real. Even if CK is an Entity and has 9 lives (currently only 6), Edwin is a ghost. Forever 16, forever existing. At some point the relationship would look and or feel weird. And tbh is the one that changed the less thanks to his interactions with Edwin. Edwin grew a lot (and learned a lot about himself) but Cat King? He still play games and yeah, he cares for Ed, but he's been like that since always. And to be loved is to be changed. Maybe the dying for Edwin when he tried to protect him from Ester and ended up dead counts for something, but he's too much in his idealistic bubble where at some point Edwin would fall for his charms. Maybe if he approached in a more friendly way and not trapping him in town, (a less Wattpad Cliche Way), maybe something could've come out better. And look, I love their teasing. I want CatWin being something before Edwin and Charles becoming an actual couple. I still want Cat King and Edwin playing with each other, who's smarter, who's sharper, who's one step ahead of the other, silly little games between them. I want Edwin appreciating Cat King's death for him. I want Cat King obsessed in a respectful way for Ed, appreciate him, praise him. And Ed just, panicking because too gay to function but at the same time, it's not who he wants to hear that from. Yet sometimes falls for that but he knows it's wrong for him.

Simon. We know he was his bully. He had feelings for Ed, and back when they both were alive, being like them was a sin. He only wanted to scare Edwin. Nothing else. If Edwin was able to forgive Simon in hell, understanding it wasn't his fault they both died (technically it is but nobody told them entities and ghosts are real so that wasn't on him), and even wanting to get him out of there, there were a reason. Also, both were sixteen. Still a lot to develop and think and experiment. It took Edwin 100 years to finally open up and be comfortable about himself. Maybe Ghost Simon could learn at the same time with Edwin as his teacher, since both were the same period. Could be interesting Simon revoked from death back to the living because he has unfinished businesses somehow and Edwin taking his case just to make things more clearer and give us a better chance to know why Edwin forgave him. Because just the "Oh, you were in love with me and you didn't know the sacrifice would actually work" doesn't sound enough reasons for someone like Edwin to break out an ex bully from literal hell. There is an explanation. There must be.

Monty. Just. Take away Edwin having feelings for Charles, and Monty being Ester's Familiar Crow. Otherwise, it could've worked. Not right away, but with patience, they could've been in a cute relationship. Monty caught feelings for real, and Edwin is too slow to understand, but at some point they'll both learn and well, lovers. I see Edwin on the aromantic spectrum, so, Monty would have to work his way and Edwin open up to get to like Monty. Or just accept they can be a platonic relationship and that can be good too. Also same issue as Crystal or any Living Entity. Age permanency. Could be a nice Teenage Love Story for Edwin and Monty, but not in case Monty is affected by human ageing.

And best by far, Charles. 30 years of being the married couple on acid. Both timeless, forever young, together by choice, each other's personal afterlife. They died when they had so much to live for. Now they can't be more alive thanks to each other. Even if they end up as platonic stuff and never end up being partners, there wouldn't be any complaining. Edwin loves Charles in a romantic way, and just knowing that Charles won't go away because of that is a total relief, and they have the eternity to find out of Charles does have romantic feelings as well. And reading a post about Charles being a People Pleaser and always saying or doing what others wanted so they like him and been trying to be on Edwin's good side to not push him away for 30 years, so, knowing that his best mate loves him must be a good reason to stop doubting Edwin.

Charles and Crystal are okay. I mean, I like their relationship just because they needed someone. Crystal admitted she could try if he were alive, but between her brainwash, the demon possession, everything happening, it's more like a distraction than an actual feeling. Maybe better writing and they could be her teenage love. After that, she'll grow up. He won't. (I know I said best partners for Edwin but I wanted to clarify my take on Crystal and Charles).

#dbda #dead boy detectives analysis #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives edwin #dead boy detectives cat king #dead boy detectives charles #dead boy detectives simon #dead boy detectives monty #dead boy detectives #dbdetectives #dbda headcanons #reallifetangent #rlt #reallifetangent writes

[madwickedawesome]

figured id visualize something i said today

#the quote was in fact “get mischaed bitch” u would never guess the context in a million years #SORRY if u met me while i was in a Mood i am in fact not always behaving like a sweet old grandmother who bakes u cookies sorry #i am still very much a teenage boy obsessed w a fictional youtube rapper #i finished my hwwww sorta yippee #mischaposting #guess whos back. back again #literally 11 pm NO ONE is gonna see this #giggles #mischa bachinski #rtc #mischa mischa mischa #[he appears before me like beetlejuice] #also ive been listening to the pride and prejudice film soundtrack and it is beautiful ? i really wanna watch it now #anywaysssssssssssss #ride the cyclone #i dont think i tagged that one already #the mutualcule can do the restOMG MY BOOTLEG DONE UPLOADING TO DRIVE #if i wasnt so fucking exhausted id watch moulin rouge but alas.. i got 3 hours of sleep last night #thats why im probably going sleepy sleep now GOODNIGHT!!! #(probably)(so much emphasis on probably) #11:11 make a wish

[willczek-art]

Remember that Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes fanmade trailer I made as my final school project???? Well, apparently people over at Nerdy Pup Games liked it enough to COMMISSION ME FOR AN ANIMATION FOR THEIR NEW PROJECT.

It's called Super Squad High, it's a boardgame about teenage superheroes and I DID THE TRAILER OPENING FOR IT!! :DD

✨>YOU CAN WATCH IT HERE<✨

#animation #board games #my animation #commission #animation commission #HOW IS THAT A REAL THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME #nerdy pup games #super squad high #i had my eye on this game since the Rebels trailer bc the art IS STUNNING and very much my vibe #teenage superheroes in general are literally the cornerstore of my artistic interests #so to say that this is a DREAM commission is an UNDERSTATEMENT #WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE THIS IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED #now i need to actually learn basics of animation instead of being forever chased by deadlines and just making things up as i go #BUT I LEARNED A TON DURING THIS #CAN YOU SEE?? how much better this is than the Rebels one????? #still too fast bc i want to cram EVERYTHING in the very thight time limit i had BUT!!!!! #im beginning to see some animation potential in myself xD #ALSO BIGGEST THX TO BRATNIA DUSZA WHO HELPED ME OUT A TON DURING THIS!! would not have met the deadline if it wasnt for her THOUSAND THANKS

[fleshdyke]

is anyone else really concerned by this “adultification” of teenagers and preteens. like idk i’ve seen 12 year old girls wearing full faces of makeup and worrying about fuckin. contour or fake lashes or whatever and looking like they’re 20. like i’ve seen way too many 13 year olds that look and act like they’re in their 20s. and like i know when you’re 12 you want to be taken seriously and treated like an adult but it’s just concerning to me the amount of young children i see that are trying to become older. i know for a fact that when i was that age i looked older than i did and i tried to act older than i was and it wasn’t even that long ago but it’s just on a whole new level with these kids. man. let yourself be a kid. i don’t have the proper words to articulate everything abt it right now but it’s fucking worrying and depressing and it’s tiktok’s fault

#it’s all of social media’s fault tbh but tiktok is just a specifically insidious kind here #like i don’t know how to properly explain everything but its just really really worrying #and if i can see it. me who is literally still a teenager and not yet an adult. thats fucking concerning man #rambles

[lebrookestore]

oh girl what the fuck

#so....i have investigated to the best of my abilities and i am still thoroughly lost so thats that #but what?? literally so much transpired ok so firstly soobin flipped seunghan off with his toes like what.... #SEUNGHAN WAS KICKED OUT OF RIIZE FOR SMOKING..... R U KIDDING ME LMFAO THATS SO????? #PLEASE he was doing normal dumb teenager things u should see the people in my college and literally every other college here #why do people drag any sort of celebrity for making normal human decisions #like yes it isn't good for you no shit it isn't but im sure he's mentally sane enough to know that #people who smoke are AWARE of the fact its not good for them trust me i have friends who are well aware #the consequences are on every single pack like they know #bro got kicked out for something literally millions of other people do like what kpoppies are insane and sm is stupid #secondly....i don't even know how to address the made in abyss scandal like it seems so messy what even #let me be so clear here if this allegations are true then i am absolutely disgusted and cannot even fathom what the fuck is happening #like woozi taeyong everyone what #but from what i have seen... and PLEASE DO NOT MISTAKE THIS AS ME DEFENDING ANYONE I AM SIMPLY STATING WHAT I HAVE SEEN ON TWITTER DOT COM #the copy that taeyong had of that manga was the censored version #does this help no not really but i don't really know enough about this situation i will look into it as much as i can i just have no TIME #ive also seen that all of them have been cleared??? so thats also something we should take into consideration i suppose #and the manga/anime is advertised as gore/horror etc ofc this does not excuse its contents literally what the fuck is that author on #but i have to state how entirely hypocritical it is to judge someone based off the media they consume because i know damn well #that a lot of people consume very fucked up content like dark fiction is a thing have yall seen the ya novels nowadays #that does not make the person who consumes it condone it...bc its fiction #at the end of the day these are men i dont trust them as delusional as i may portray myself on this hellsite #also i saw a tweet ab someone on twitter saying bc taeyong reads beserk and that is also a manga with incredibly dark themes he must be #fucked up #firstly a lot of manga/anime have dark themes but thats not the point #a LOT of people around the world have read that manga (im literally not talking ab taeyong here i promise) #literally people i know have #they KNOW how fucked up it is they dont recommend it to anyone and literally say read it at your own risk its fucked up #it does not mean they directly condone the shit that goes on in the manga they have quite the opposite stance actually #(beserk is also the nunber 1 rated manga of all time i know this my ex doesn't shut up ab it and neither does one of my best friends) #anyway i dont know much about this yet so i will look into it more; had no idea what was happening until five mins ago but literally wtf ma

[pepprs]

idk how to reconcile my new self with my old self. also i fucking hate waiting. GRAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

#delete later #im getting a taste of my own medicine bc when im overwhelmed depressed etc i don’t even open emails or dms or whatever and then ifeel guilty #and let them build up and run away from them and literally do not reply for years. but ive been waiting for like 5 different but related #replies for 3ish days at this point and im soooooo impatient omg i want to bash my head into the wall.. and afaik no one i messaged has #opened the message despite being active online elsewhere which is EXACTLY what i do so i have no right to complain at all. but still. omggg #i just have a simple question (me and the ps5 voice) reply to my message boy #purrs #also.. ok yeah im gonna be honest about it even if there are consequences lol. idk why im on such a mission to get back all my old #characters but if i don’t i can and will go crazy. i don’t even do that kind of thing anymore and d*viantart is an irreversibly warped #landscape due in part to capitalism and in part to own mistakes and selfish actions. and i truly feel like my tumblr mutuals are the only #ones who understand me and feel safe and cozy on here. but i miss my old internet home. and i really miss my old internet friends and seeing #all the jokes we had and how we were all like interconnected w the same adopt groups and stuff and now we don’t even talk… it makes me so #sad and i feel weird messaging them just for the purpose of asking if they can give me back characters i gave them 4 years ago like a) you j #just don’t do that kind of thing i don’t think but b) it feels so transactional and would make the part of saying hey our friendship was #important to me when i was a teenager and even though we don’t talk anymore i think of you fondly and wish you well. like lollllll. and i #feel cringe even tracking them down / messaging them bc we are all jn our 20s now… embarrassing. but i am so mad at myself for letting those #friendships wither (not that i have the spoons to sustain them these days anyway but still) and for not keeping bettr track of my characters #when i sold them and for giving them up in the first place and for letting my old internet life just fall apart due to neglect bc it puts me #in a bind to try to piece it together again no matter how i try it and i shouldn’t try anyway. but i am so tempted to rn. lol #* itd make saying stuff abt appreciating friendship weird bc there’s a transaction tied in (source: i did this and feel weird and bad) #like the way i want to SCREAM seeing that dA ate all of the journals i made when i was a 14 year old and turned them into glitched polls. th #the way the wayback machine has terrible unreliable records of everything and i can never get some stuff back / track some stuff down. pain #anyways it’s stupid bc i feel cozy and listened to and as connected as i have the energy to be to all of u guys so why am i doing this. but #i miss the dA stuff too and i wish it wasn’t cringe and i wish i could have everything that’s ever been part of me all in one place. lol #also this doesn’t even take into account my poetry community on dA on my other account who i also felt so safe and cozy with and i abandoned #that too and lost touch with basically everyone even though we all knew each others deepest secrets for years.. the heartsickness of it all #anyways mutuals who knew me on deviantart i am clutching both your hands with impassioned urgency and kissing u on the cheeks. that’s all

[bumblingbabooshka]

YOUNG TUVOK: I was sent against my will. VULCAN MASTER: Then I suggest you leave. YOUNG TUVOK: I'm not a prisoner? VULCAN MASTER: Only of your emotions, or so I have been told. YOUNG TUVOK: My emotions free me.

#haters will say he's neurotypical #Young Tuvok wishing he wasn't Vulcan can actually be something that's so powerful #the alien feels like an alien bc to him he is not an alien but he /is/ weird...he WISHES he were an alien then everything would make sense #His teacher was like 'Tuvok you need to see what's behind you' and Tuvok was like NICE try MORON I don't have any eyes behind me #'....I meant....(sighs) Tuvok I was speaking metaphorically-' YOU CAN'T TRICK ME!!! #I love teen Tuvok #I love him as a character and as a method of recontextualizing adult Tuvok #it hypothetically (not used in the show) gives a lot of depth to his character to have been a troubled teenager on the verge of becoming #without logic...literally got kicked out of school and banished by his dad. You'd never imagine that if you saw Tuvok in canon #I love how Tuvok goes from wishing he was not Vulcan as a teen to taking a stubborn pride in the fact that he's Vulcan when he's an ensign #and I mean stubborn in a good way #Tuvok is like...when you think as a teenager that you're a weirdo and you're abnormal and you're fucked up #and then you realize what exactly was causing that and you get fucking MAD when people call you weird and fucked up #and then over time you calm down into an adult canon Tuvok who's completely at peace with himself and no longer trying to prove anything #to anyone #idk I just love him #and all his implied character growth #also I love how in snw its established that there are like facilities established to help people who are struggling with their logic #but Tuvok still got sent to some fuckin caves to deal with it because his family's religious /j #also fuck Tuvok having the same haircut his whole life I'm giving him long hair #Tuvok art #st voyager art #st voyager #bea art tag #the caption is a quote from the voyager ep Gravity #neurodivergent tuvok #autistic tuvok #? perhaps

[diabolicjoy]

.

#warning there’s too many typos but who cares #i’m always complaining to myself in my head about how me & my best friend have grown apart #we’ve spent all out teenage years doing everything together even though we weren’t from the same school #we’d still find ways to see each other if not every day then at least every month #& since she started college & then a relationship & then work we’ve just grown apart & it was embarrassing for me really because i was alwa #ys the depressed never busy always alone type & i always ended up felt clingy when asking to hang out #feeling* #specially because she’s a social butterfly & i’m the one who has social anxiety lol but it was always reassuring to have her by my side #during these social events #then the pandemic happened & after things went back to normal.. i can actually count on my finger how many times we’ve seen each other irl #also stopped texting each other which is an important detail considering we used to talk every single day #especially because she’s like. literally the only person i feel comfortable opening up abt things i wouldn’t tell anyone #so i just feel isolated & a bit lost in life without her presence in it... but i’m just a very insecure human & always feel like the plans #& little dates & things i come up & plan for us to do is just... super boring to her (or anyone else) #so i stopped trying completely. which is sad because i miss her immensely #but last november i went to a festival with some friends but felt super stressed on the first day but tried to hide it from everyone #because i don’t wanna ruin the whole trip by being moody so i just kept to myself #ended up feeling overwhelmed & on day2 of the festival we txt each other bc she’s gonna be there #so i just spent the entire day2 with her & her partner & we all had such an amazing time... it really revitalized me lol #& everything felt so familiar even though i hadn’t seen her since her bday in may.. #& idk i just missed her. i always felt like this lack of talking & seeing each other just meant that they didnt like me as a friend anymore #or that i wasn’t worth keeping around... idk i’m always expecting the worse which is so unfair to the other person #i know she loves me & that life happens #anyway all that to say that i decided to stop being a pussy & stop mopping around #crying abt how i’m alone & friendless. & like. just text them & invite invite them to see a movie or something #idk if it didn’t work our 2 years ago life happens i am trying again #i won’t find someone like them that easily again in life i think

[sol1loqu1st]

i'm going to be seeing a new therapist later this month & i want to bring up possibly/probably having osdd, but i know that since more people have been kinda learning about what DID and osdd actually *are* there's been an influx of ppl claiming to have it (ftr it is NOT my place to tell people they're faking lmao, i don't care if someone claims to have a disorder and then later it turns out they don't & i don't think most ppl are "faking." it's between them & their therapist if they have it or not and it harms no one to self dx, people taking it less seriously isn't the fault of self dxed people either)

but anyway i'm worried that if i go into a therapist's office and immediately tell them i think i have Today's Trendy Disorder i won't be taken seriously. but at the same time there is really obviously *something* going on with me that isn't just normal depression & anxiety and treatment methods for bpd (like dbt, mood stabilizers, etc) haven't helped even a little bit over the several years i've been seeking treatment for it so i'm starting to suspect there's something else going on i haven't been seeing & honestly after talking with my last therapist abt stuff (who i was seeing for bpd/trauma stuff but looking back they were pretty obviously trying to get me to figure out i had a dissociative disorder, whether or not i do they certainly thought so) i'm realizing that some of the things i experience are a lot less normal than i thought and may be consistent w/ an osdd diagnosis (probably not DID because i don't really experience significant memory stuff though lol. i do a little but it's less "can't remember at all" and a little more like waking up from a dream where i can recall the gist of stuff but it feels far away)

i don't even know what id do with a diagnosis though. honestly i just want answers and a place to start in regards to treatment more than anything else

(advice welcome but not expected)

#idk though maybe it is just anxiety #lot of folks im seeing have like. this detailed internal world and talk to their alters and #have like very distinct separate identities and act really different and all that #my stuff is just like..... idk man #i thought i had osdd when i was a teenager but i eventually decided it was bpd mood swings and identity issues #and any memory stuff i did deal with was adrenaline from anxiety #and i'm still not convinced it's like #NOT that? #but the way people talk to me about myself when they're upset w/ me #like there's always this implication that i should be able to control what i do and say even when my emotions are boiling over #but i... Can't #if it's a situation where i could seriously fuck my or someone elses life up i can wrench back control of myself enough #to not get in serious trouble but when i get like how i do there have been times i literally know i shouldnt be doing something and #i want to stop so fucking badly and i just am basically watching myself fuck me over and make awful choices and i can't. stop myself #& i just. i always thought i was just making excuses for myself and that i was just. one of those horrible assholes #who acts like they cant control themself when they hurt others #(& i do take responsibility for the times i've hurt other people or lashed out unfairly. regardless of if it was me or an alter #it's still my responsibility to make things right) #but. idk. maybe it's not just that i'm a bad person #maybe there really is something actually going on with me and i can learn to cope w/ it in healthier ways #also shut up yeah the mp100 finale got me thinking abt this again ok. seeing mob helplessly watching from inside himself #as a Different Him went on a horrible unstoppable rampage. & the solution was that he had to accept the other him as part of himself #was. very much an 'oh' moment for me. so uh #yeah

[synonymsforstupidity]

'Kris being an outcast who likes freaking people out means they must be a Bad Person™️ and thus taking their free will and piloting them like a puppet is actually Good™️ morally speaking'

How about I eat your skin how bout that

#the lack of nuance people address Kris with makes me want to bite things every day #also they are LITERALLY A TEENAGER who as far as we know is JUST A BIT WEIRD #tho I think part of it may be a purposeful commentary on how we treat characters vs real people even in a story we buy in2 very genuinely #bc certain traits both behavioral and physical- when observed in the context of a story- set Villain Flags mentally #whereas irl the same actions or things would be considered (fairly) innocuous #or at least not judged on such a concious unabashed definite level #I think its similar with Berdly how every1 is like 'this bitch annoying can we please kill him' #and then in Snowgrave you fucking DO- wish granted #but in-universe all you've done is fucking murder a teenager whose biggest crime is being kind of obnoxious #even with a universe you're invested in and where you care a lot about the characters #your role as a player/observer taking on the identity of someone in that world- no matter how immersed you get- #is still fundamentally different from how things are viewed in-universe #because you are still reacting to things as you would a story while characters are applying the standards of what to them is real life #EVEN WHEN you buy into the fiction that the characters are meant to be concious beings who you the player r interacting with thru the game #not that this is necessarily a 'bad thing' but ut and it seems dr are works abt exploring our relationship to fiction and its characters #and about how much we think we empathize with them but also treat them in a way we'd never treat people #but yea the amount of ppl I see saying Kris is EEEEEEVIL bc they have red eyes and like knives and steal pie #and because they don't seem to want to stick to the script the story has laid out for them #and how them being EEEEEVIL or even just Not Vewy Nice :( makes taking over their body not AT LEAST morally questionable #is infuriating #maybe bc they don't want to deal w the fact that we as a player are participating directly in their suffering #if not the entire cause of it/the person its for in the first place #and like I get it that sucks and I feel bad thinking abt it too but I think thats kinda the point #the victim doesn't have to be perfect or likeable or even a good person for their suffering to matter and be fucked up #but that rationale is very commonly used in stories to dismiss/diminish/justify morally troubling actions #and tbh I think that one is used for how people treat real-life narratives as well to some degree #ok bye #Deltarune #kris dreemurr

[dennisboobs]

oh yeah, i love the always sunny book! my favourite parts are the insane cringe-inducing mischaracterization present in every single one of the "audio transcription" sections, the prioritization of shocking, edgy, gross-out humour over actual funny jokes... and you know, i gotta give props to the admirable work of reducing characters to one singular bit, especially charlie's cheese thing, which, while funny in small doses, is absolutely HYSTERICAL when talked about nonstop over several hundred pages. also love the implication that charlie regularly disposes of corpses for the gang. and the addition of slurs in a book that came out in 2015, long after the show dropped their usage, is also really cool.

but at least dennis

#the stuff written by frank was honestly hard to read at times #theres a part where the editor chimes in and insults charlie's voice which is like. man. #its wild bc half the book was kind of funny and half felt like it was written by an edgy teenager #unless i was completely misreading the implication. charlie got hard talking about cheese. and ate literal shit. #THERES JUST A CERTAIN POINT YOU NEED TO STOP #the gang being outrageous is nothing new but it didnt feel like them half the time ykwim #especially when half of it actively goes against canon #its little things like mac saying that he's made 'fours of people' throw up and that they called him crazy #but in mac & den break up the only one who argues w the idea that apple skin isnt poisonous is dee #charlie frank and dennis not only go along with it but den & frank appreciate him looking out for them #JUST. LITTLE THINGS. #like. ur telling me dennis doesnt remember maureens name??? and its not a bit?? he specifically brought her up by name in MFGM #and if this is meant to be during s9 or 10 he still regularly sees her and pays alimony #i would trust any fanfic author over whoever wrote this book im ngl #fanfic authors wouldn't forget that dee majored in psych and dennis minored in psych #also like. this also happens to be a critique of mine with the later seasons of the show as well #but when theyre TOO unbelievably cartoonishly criminal it takes me out of it #i may not like it. but i can believe that dennis 'accidentally' killed maureen. one body... sure. #but implying that all of them regularly kill people and get away with it... nah man. i dont buy it

[violeterinys]

just watched interview with the vampire season 2 episode 1...... assad zaman.... i want you.. i want to be you...

#he is so good as armand jesus #p #also his portrayal is so funny because he is so relaxed and chill and book!armand is literally a 500 year old teenager #who famously has no chill #and they aged up show!armand thank god but i can telllll he wants to go ballistic and is not allowing himself to #[in the horniest voice] i cant wait to see him fully explode #(im still a lesbian guys let me have this)

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie

[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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