Tumgik
#i just needed to get that off my chest because i can't help but need to make it clear we are fans and he holds all the truths you know
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The ‘bad’ kind of desire
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pairing: soobin x reader (but not really)
synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.
warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it
a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭
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“Am I bad person?”
Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.
"What?"
And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head. 
It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”
His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.
Soobin.
Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.
Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with. 
Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.
"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"
You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression. 
He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."
“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.
Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.
Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge? 
“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”
You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.
He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.
You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type. 
But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.
“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“
“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.
Really, why were you so concerned now? 
Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different. 
Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.
Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile. 
Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.
He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.
In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.
“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“
Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”
“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.
You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.
Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."
"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.
He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."
—-
You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.
Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.
He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.
He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.
But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.
You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.
And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.
You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.
But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.
It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.
Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.
And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.
Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.
Soobin was different though, special.
You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.
He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.
—-
"Fuck," he panted, "please,"
The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.
"Please,"
Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.
"Please."
"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.
Close enough.
"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"
He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.
"I need it~"
The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"
Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"
He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.
He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.
Not with you in the next room.
He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.
Because he would only focus on you.
You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.
But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.
He wanted to hear you.
Not some substitute for the real thing.
He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.
Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.
You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.
You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.
"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"
Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.
Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.
Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.
"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."
Fuck, so that was what it was.
His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.
You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.
God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.
Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.
But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.
In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.
You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.
He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.
You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.
God, that’s what he needed right now.
Needed you.
Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.
Not you fucking someone else in a different room.
Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.
"More."
He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.
It wasn’t enough, not nearly 
"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"
He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.
He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.
“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.
"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.
"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"
He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.
More.
"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.
He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.
"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.
"Your's." He moans in reply.
And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.
Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.
But it doesn't matter.
Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.
Up,
"Slut." You whisper.
and down,
"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.
over,
"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.
and over,
"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.
harder,
"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.
faster,
"Mine." Across his cheek.
deeper.
Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-
"-Cum for me baby,"
And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.
Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.
"Fuck,"
And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"
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a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭
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graymanshoots · 2 days
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Tender Love & Care
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x POC fem reader
Intimate fluff
A/n: Updates will be slow because I am still grieving but I hope
Prompt: Simon and you wind down after a long mission and he takes care of you
(Cute & Boring Domestic Life :D )
The car ride back home from base was comfortably silent. Simon's hand on your thigh as he drove down the long stretch of road. Your eyes were focused on your phone propped on the dashboard playing a movie as you took your cornrows out.
It had been a long couple of months on the job being moved from place to place to do whatever assignment you were given. You dreamed of the shower back home, the lukewarm temperatures and poor water pressure on base not enough to break the tension in your back. The biggest thing you missed was your shampoo and conditioner, your hair in need of some serious TLC after being stuck under a helmet or balaclava for the majority of your mission.
Finishing with your take down, you sighed in relief, and your head of messy and stretched-out hair hit the headrest. Simon's hand moved from your thigh up to your head and massaged your scalp for a little bit. “Don't touch my hair; it probably stinks,” you sighed, not taking any action to stop Simon's actions. “Don't seem to mind too much, love,” he responded before bringing his hand back down to your thigh, earning a displeased whine. He smirked and glanced at you. “Hey, don't get too upset, we're almost home,” he said, feeling relieved to actually be pulling into the familiar neighborhood.
After parking, the short trip inside of the apartment you shared with Simon was quick. The flat was cold and dark, but it was still a welcomed feeling now being able to fully relax. “Shower or bed?” Simon asked, resetting the security alarm now that the door was locked tight and his hands were empty. “Can't sleep with my hair like this,” you sighed, making your way down the hallway in the direction of your shared bedroom. Simon followed after you, leaving the bags in the living room, his arms coming around your waist just as you got to the door of your room. “I can help you with your hair, love. You're too tired,” Simon said, walking forward into the room with you still wrapped in his arms. It was an awkward waddle into the room that made you laugh before relaxing back into Simon. “You just want an excuse to touch my hair,” you accused, leaning your head back to look at him. A smirk played at his lips as he met your playful glare. “Guilty as charged.”
You scoffed and playfully pushed Simon away from you, his hold giving easily as he stepped back a few to take off his hoodie. You pulled your shirt off and kicked off your jeans, tossing both into the empty laundry basket sitting slumped in the corner of your room, your underwear soon following.
Simon let out a low whistle, and you flipped him the bird as you walked into the connected master bathroom. “Just admiring!” he called after you while removing his own clothes, his scarred pale chest contrasting with the tan of his arms from the hours of being out in the desert. “Any tanner and you'll be using my foundation, Simon,” you commented with a snort, seeing the very visible tan lines. “Shut it and get your ass in the shower,” Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes at your jokes, an unexpected smack hitting your ass as soon as you turned back to the shower, your neck turned so you could stick your tongue out at your boyfriend. “Fuck off!” you yelped, now keeping your cheeks covered from any further attack. A stifled chuckle had you turning to Simon with a glare as he shrugged like he didn't do a thing.
You shook your head and turned the water on, letting the temperature warm to perfection before getting in, a pleased sigh leaving your lips at the comfortingly warm water and good water pressure. “There ya go…” Simon hummed, stepping in after you; the shower had been altered to accommodate his size. Simon allowed you to lean against him with your back against his chest and his hands at your waist. The two of you just stood in comfortable silence, letting the water beat against your worn skin, tension breaking away from your muscles. Simon leaned forward and grabbed your washcloth before lathering it in the sweet aloe & coconut body wash that was sitting in the rack. He gently ran the soapy cloth over your shoulders and down your arms, pressing you to his chest when he smoothed over your hands. Simon pressed light kisses to the back of your neck as he moved over your chest and abdomen.
You soaped up and rinsed off together, but the sweet shower was far from over as your hand reached for the Mielle shampoo. “My favorite part,” Simon grinned, taking the bottle from you and squeezing a good amount into his large palm. “Your hair has grown since we’ve been gone,” he commented, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, a pleased moan coming from your lips. “At least there was minimum breakage,” you sighed, closing your eyes as Simon's fingers scratched at your scalp. He was so firm and gentle you could almost fall asleep, the sound of the shower reminding you of rain in a forest and the sweet smells of your body wash and shampoo bringing a smile to your face. “Are you sleepy, pretty girl?” Simon questioned, noticing you swaying on your feet a bit. You hummed in acknowledgment before bringing your head under the water to rinse out the pomegranate & honey shampoo. Once the water ran somewhat clear, you brought your head out and let Simon massage the conditioner into your hair. With the conditioner in your hair, Simon grabbed your detangling brush and gently ran it through your hair, trying to cause minimal discomfort. “Oh lord, what did I do to deserve you?” You whined, earning a chuckle from Simon. “I should be asking that same question, love,” he said, brushing through another section of hair. “I love your hair; it's so soft,” Simon commented, twirling a piece around his finger. “Like a dream…” he trailed off.
After rinsing the rest of the product from your hair, you soon found yourself wrapped in a warm towel and sitting cross-legged between Simon's legs on your bed as he two-strand twists your hair, something he learned to make your nights easier.
“Do we have any plans for tomorrow ‘cause I've got to get groceries or we’ll be eating take out for the week?” You asked, rubbing your body butter over your drying skin.
“I wouldn't mind ordering food tomorrow; let's handle the groceries on Tuesday,” Simon offered while applying leave-in to the small section of hair he was twisting up.
You hummed, rubbing some butter onto Simon's hairy legs. “You should let me wax your legs,” you started randomly, patting Simon's bare legs like bongos.
“Sure, why not!” he replied enthusiastically, causing you to straighten up with surprise.
“Really?”
“No.”
You immediately deflated when Simon's deadpanned rejection hit your ears, putting a hand to your heart as if you’d been shot. “You’ll live,” Simon scoffed, finishing up on the last twist. He patted your leg, signaling that you were done before running his hands through his hair with the excess product.
You let out a noise that could only be described as relief once Simon finished, throwing the towel to the side and moving on top of him. He circled his arms around your waist and leaned back into the mattress, pressing soft kisses to your lips.
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[04] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader
Warnings: Danny is an oc, mention of death in the family (not reader or miguel related), mention of pregnancy (not reader), annoying customers, two cliffhangers in one (im sorry), patrick o'hara (web-slinger)
series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist
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Another day, another employee seeming to irritate him to the core. Miguel didn't understand what was so hard for this guy to understand that no meant no, but seeing him beg Miguel for a day off when his PTO ran out was comical to say the least.
"For the last time, Danny, you used up your PTO. I cannot give you the day off simply because you don't want to work. If you were at work more often instead of doing whatever you want to do, then maybe you'd have the day off." He says while leaning back in his chair.
"But you don't understand! I need the day off, Mr. O'Hara! Please!"
"Give me a valid reason why and I'll think about it." It was bullshit. The only way Danny was going to get out of this is if his fiancée was giving birth or if he had a death in the family. For any other reason, Danny was going back to work and Miguel didn't care if Danny was going to throw a fit.
He was honestly surprised that Danny and his fiancée were still together considering he hardly works and they live together.
"Well...you see..." Danny started, but he couldn't come up with a valid excuse other than not wanting to work.
Miguel waited for him, his leg folded to where his ankle rested on his knee and his hands folded on top of his abdomen. He tilted to the side as he listened to Danny stutter.
"Danny, I'm a patient man. However, your stutter isn't natural. You're nervous because you can't come up with a lie right now and that's fine. However, don't expect me to listen to you if you can't come up with a lie. Get back to work."
Danny grumbled before leaving Miguel's office, slamming the door behind him.
"Slamming doors como si paga por algo-" he paused and shuddered. "Oh God, I sound like my mother." (like of you pay for something-) Miguel shook his head and fixed his blazer before going to type on his computer before his phone rang. A small smile formed on his lips when he saw your name pop up on the screen, but he didn't answer it until the third ring.
"I thought you gave me a fake number there for a second." You let out a sigh, making Miguel let out a shy chuckle, fidgeting with his pen as he tried to tell himself to relax from how hard his heart was thumping in his chest with nerves.
"Nope. Right number." He says, leaning back into his chair again as he heard you put the phone down.
"Good! Okay, I had a weird question to ask you." You say, everything around you sounding much louder which he automatically connected it to you putting the phone on speaker.
"Ask away." He reaches over and grabs his glass of water with a trembling hand from his nerves.
"Why did you need to know about interior designers and such?"
Miguel smirks, thanking whoever that it was a phone call and not in person communication or a video call. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."
"Of course it is."
He heard you huff out a breath and he couldn't help but bite his bottom lip to hold back a laugh.
There had to be flaws somewhere in you...right? I mean, he only saw perfection-
'No. Stop it, Miguel. Not yet. Don't fall just yet.'
"Well, I'll let you go. I have a cake to work on."
Before he could get a word in, you hung up.
Miguel put his phone down and let out a chuckle. He rests his elbow on the arm rest of his desk chair, his chin resting on his palm as he let his mind wander a bit.
Where did his mind wander to exactly?
To you.
He wondered if your hands were rough or surprisingly soft. He wondered where you learned to bake. Was it taught to you by a parent or guardian? Did you learn from recipe books? YouTube videos? I mean, he had to thank someone for your talent. Shit, he wouldn't be surprised if you were self taught.
He shook his head before a soft knock was heard from his office door. He looked up and immediately regretted it when he saw the look of shock and anxiousness on Lyla's face.
"They're here for the meeting, Mr. O'Hara."
He got up and buttoned his blazer before following Lyla out of his office and into the conference room. He knew Lyla well enough that when she said his last name, it wasn't Alchemax business.
-----
You raise a brow at the man in front of you who was asking for a gender reveal cake.
"Sorry, can you repeat that?"
"I want a gender reveal cake, but instead of the usual pink and blue and you do black?"
You blink at him.
"Black and...?"
"Just black."
"Do you want the frosting black?"
"No. I want the cake to be black."
"Sir, that's not how a gender reveal cake works. If you want, I can do black and whi-"
"No, I want black."
"What's the gender?"
"Boy."
"Okay. So you want everything to be black?"
He nods.
"What flavor?"
"Vanilla."
You stood there for a bit, screaming internally as you head to the back to take out a vanilla cake you just made. You quickly made black frosting with food coloring before decorating the cake. When you triple checked that it was perfect, you showed it to the customer.
"You made sure it was blue on the inside, right?"
You wanted to throw it at the customer.
"Sir, you told me you didn't want to do pink or blue, you wanted black."
"Yeah. The frosting."
You clenched your teeth before forcing a smile.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, I need it within the next two hours or so."
"Come again?"
He gave you a nod before stepping out of the bakery.
"Customers piss me off sometimes." You murmur.
"Do they? I'm sorry to hear that."
Your eyes widen before they meet a familiar pair of brown eyes.
"Hey darlin'. Hope I'm not interrupting anythin' important." Patrick says softly, giving his charming country boy smile that made you relax.
~~~~
tags:
@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfictions @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax @cicithemess @diannana @itsameclinicaldepresssion @hwasoup @migueloharasbbm @vkumi
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wormdebut · 2 days
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LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND (CRUSHED LIKE A BUG IN THE GROUND)
Ahoy! This is my first VERY LATE ficlet for @corrodedcoffinfest ! My absolute bad for being so late, but BOY am I HAPPY TO BE HERE!
Warm Up Prompt One: Taxed. Word Count: 1000 (scrivener says 1000 Wordcounter says 979. IDK Man, it’s within limit), Rating: T, Pairing: None, CW: Swears, Smoking, Angst Tags: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak
----
October 1987
They've been at this for fucking years. Eddie feels like a fucking girl scout.
'Well hello there Mr. Music Man, would you like to buy a box of shitty garage band metal?'
Except they weren't fucking shitty. All of the guys had been working their assess off, writing, playing shows, shitty gig after shitty gig after shitty gig.
But they haven't managed anything. Nothing, zilch, nada.
They had a small crowd showing up at the Hideout, and the owner, Benny, started letting them play not only their usual Tuesday but because Eddie had been helping him with placehe was letting them play Saturday nights now too, which was great because while he appreciates the likes of his uncle and Wayne's best friends on Tuesdays, there were almost twenty people every Saturday night and that was something.
They also had a standing gig at a bar in Indianapolis at least once a month, lately they've been playing The Barrel every other week and Eddie thought--he thought--that that would get them somewhere.
The guys were fucking exhausted but Eddie kept pushing because they could do this. Corroded Coffin was great. They were great and somebody was going to see that…right?
Eddie saw what they had. He did. But the guys--
"C'mon Ed, we can't keep sneaking Gareth into bars forever. I think we need to--maybe consider other options or--" Jeff rambles. They were supposed to be practicing but Jeff Williams had to swoop inwith his stupid common sense bullshit. Jeff motherfucking Williams is one of the best guitarists Eddie has ever had to the privilege of listening to, but Jeff wants to go college like a real boy!
Gareth cuts him off, "It's just the two bars man, and I have a fake, if I need it anyw--"
Would you look at that, it's time for Freddy to cut in. "Yeah, but you're three feet tall and have the face of a newborn child."
Gareth shoves at Freddy's chest. "Oh fuck off, man. At least I'm not a virgin!" He yelps and great. This is great.
Now the band is fighting, again, because Jeff wants to go to College, Goodie is a Virgin, and Gareth is short.
Eddie just want to play music.
If they all want to yell, Eddie can yell louder. "See. Do you see what happens when you start talking about 'other options' Jeff? Chaos--and not the fun kind!"
"See, Eddie--this is the fucking problem with you. All you care about is your music, your dream, It's all about you!"
Jeff is yelling at Eddie, Gareth and Freak are rough housing, how did this even happen. All Eddie wants is to do something. Be something. He believes in this, in Jeff, and Freddy and Gareth, in the band.
And he gets that everyone is taxed, tired. Eddie is fucking exhausted. Gareth is trying to not fail his senior year. He gets it, he does, but-- "You know what, Jeff?" His voice breaks, and isn't that fucking humiliating? "Some of us, don't have college as an option. Did you ever consider that?"
Eddie leans over and grabs his cigarettes from the table, before shoulder checking Jeff as he leaves.
——
What’s the fucking point? Eddie puts everything into lyrics that people probably don't even know, all of them spend hours writing and harmonizing, making sure chords make sense, just for everything to be a pipe dream. They haven't taken a break for anything. It's either work or school or Coffin Shit. They haven't played D&D in months. They've just been doing this.
But it's all Eddie has. How the hell was he ever going to get out of shitty ass Hawkins, if it wasn't this way? He didn't exactly ace his finals--even the third time around. Honestly? He's pretty sure they just let him pass, to get him the fuck out of there.
He lights up what feels like his eighth cigarette--it's not, it's his second--and stares out to the empty street. They use Gareth's garage to practice…for being as straight laced as she is, Ms. Emerson sure does believe in the band.
Dottie Emerson and Eddie. God dammit, maybe Jeff is right.
He should go back, he should go back and apologize, and let this go. He has the job at the Hideout, he can save and maybe move to Indy--play an acoustic at some bars or…something.
God, he's just so tired of this shit.
He finishes his cigarette, and tries to breathe. Breathe in--hold--breathe out--he doesn't realizes Jeff until he taps his shoulder.
"Hey." Jeff says, quiet. Eddie, just nods, grabs his pack and offers a cancer-filled olive branch. Jeff takes it.
Eddie doesn't say anything. Doesn't want to, doesn't know what he should say.
So Jeff does. "I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm just fucking tired man, we all are and I do want this, I do, but it's fucking scary." Eddie turns, watches Jeff blow out smoke. "I got accepted to IU, did you know that?"
Eddie blinks. He did not know that. "No, you hadn't mentioned it."
Jeff turns to look at him, "I didn't want this to happen."
Eddie closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath. In--hold--out. "You should go." He forces a smile, watches as Jeff's eyes shine for a moment--no wonder he had that silly crush on him his second senior year, but it was only for like a week, leave it alone--before he srunches his face up, Eddie can't help but laugh. Jeff always does that, when he's stressed. It makes him look like a rabbit.
Jeff goes to speak, but Eddie cuts him off. "Let's do this Halloween show, it'll be our going away gift to our tens of adoring fans."
Jeff laughs at that, nods, and pulls Eddie into a hug.
Everything will be fine, with or without Corroded Coffin.
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fallenhunnyapple · 15 hours
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Decided to do a kinda.. design breakdown for my version of Sinner Adam cuz there's a number of deliberate choices.
Piercings
Left eyebrow ring piercing
Two Hoops on the Left ear
Two chained studs on the Right ear + dangly triangle
Tongue piercing
Snake bites
Nipple barbells
Before becoming a sinner, the only piercings he had were tongue and ears because he could get away with them without Sera chastising him
The snake bites were just There when he became a Sinner and the irony pisses him off, but they're definitely not the only snake bites he's getting :3c
The eyebrow piercing and ear piercings also just Were There when he became a Sinner. The only ones he got afterwards were the nipple piercings and that's because he finally learned why males have nipples and a little of wanting to please his dom
He's got some vaguely goatish/sheepy details
He has the long rectangular pupils that give him an advantage to lateral views which, given the fact that he's severely Nerfed, is an advantage he needs.
Obviously his horns are an homage to the ones on his helmet but have the grooves that are more common in ram horns.
He got ears that are somewhere between floppy sheep ears and elf ears. They can move a bit up and down but they're not super mobile.
Wings
His wings are a dull golden color, nothing like the vibrancy of his wings as an Angel. And more than that, they're Literally Clipped. He can't use them as wings, he's completely grounded. He can't put them away either so he has a constant reminder of the fact that his wings are Useless. He still uses them protectively, they're still big enough to at least partially cover himself (or Lucifer when need be)
Tail
He has a classic long spaded tail. Naturally, it's All Black, but because of his deal with Lucifer, there's a Red Mark on it, not unlike the heart marks on Lucifer and Charlie's tails.
Scars/Marks
Adam has a number of these. Of course he has the scar along his torso from when his rib was removed. That's something so deeply engrained in him that even coming back as a Sinner doesn't remove that.
He also has the Scars from Niffty going absolutely wild with the knife. Instead of just a single classic X where the main blow was, he has a number of scars littering his chest and back, the first and worst Stab being the most visible. These scars have a bit of a golden hue to them because they were scars to his Angelic Body.
His Apple mark is something Lucifer deliberately left there. It's also like a Golden hued Scar, and it acts like a Brand. After all, their deal is for him to lend Adam protection, but he can't Always Be there, so a mark like that should help deter anything too bad from happening since it's Very Clear that Adam belongs to Lucifer. It hasn't always worked to plan, but it does give some level of protection when Adam is on his own, especially in the beginning where he doesn't trust or like anyone in the hotel and vice versa.
Bonus notes
I know I don't really draw Adam as Soft as a lot of people do, but he's definitely not Skinny. To me, because of his position as Leader of Heaven's army and being responsible for training the Exorcists and also just getting involved with Exterminations himself, I see it more as like a balance of muscle and fat, solid and soft. In other AUs where his lifestyle is different, so is his body type to me. But in this one, this is the kinda dad bod type I give him. (The lack of hair is because I am a coward and don't really like body hair so I don't wanna draw it for my own stuff)
Also: I have Sinner Adam's hair, skin, wings, and wardrobe all be much more muted colors than how I draw him as an Angel and that's also deliberate. No more divine light for this guy, so it's left him dull and dark.
As for why I don't have him with a face resembling his mask: While I do appreciate that choice for other people's designs, to me it's got a lot to do with my Dysmorphia Headcanons. He doesn't like how Human his face is, it's one of the things he has the most insecurities about. So of course Hell is gonna exploit them and give him a face that's so very similar to his human/angel One. He doesn't get away from it that easy.
Thanks for coming to my TED Talk
Tbh if anyone wants to hear anything else about that AU, or any other, any details or questions, please feel free to Ask. I love getting to talk about my ideas, I just don't know how usually lol
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angelsanarchy · 2 days
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Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N One-Shot Series PRT 33
Tagging: @roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27
Jack walked carefully into the house and sat down trying to catch his breath. He never thought he would get Cleo's forgiveness but she had actually forgiven him. He looks through the box she left and kicks it to the side of the steps before pulling out his phone. He wasn't sure if he should call Y/n or Dr. Carty. He promised her that he would call her if he started feeling like a meltdown was coming and he didn't want to go back on his word.
He pushed the button to call her and waited, leaving the phone on speaker because of how terrible his hands were shaking.
"Hey! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Jack could hear her smile through the phone.
"H-hey...um.." Jack hadn't thought about what he was going to say but Y/n could tell something was wrong.
"Jack? Are you okay?" She asked concerned.
"I'm...I'm kinda on the verge of a panic attack...and I'm...scared." Jack's voice cracked. He could hear heavy breathing on the phone.
"Carrie...CARRIE! I've got to go. Let them know I've got an emergency." Y/n wasn't talking to Jack. She was talking about someone she worked with as she sprinted to her car.
"Just keep talking to me okay? I'm on the way." Y/n's car door slammed. He knew it would take her at least 15 minutes to get here so he tried to ground himself.
"What are you feeling baby? Is your chest tight?" Y/n asked keeping her tone soft.
"It's getting there. It's hard to catch my breath...I'm shaking. I can't stop shaking." Jack shook his hands out trying to calm himself.
"It's okay, just keep breathing and try to breathe through your nose okay?" Jack did as he was told and started taking deep breaths.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry I'm like this." Jack apologized.
"Hey it's okay. I'm so happy you called me. You promised you would and you did." She said with a relieved smile. Jack felt at ease as she spoke. He heard the tires screech outside and she ran through the front door, tossing her phone on the counter and dropping to the floor next to him. She didn't want to be obvious but she looked him over for wounds.
"I didn't..." He started to say and she shook her head.
"Okay okay that's good baby. I'm so proud of you." Y/n pushed his hair off his sweaty face just as a huge roll of thunder hit and knocked the power out.
"Y-your mom-" Jack realized the power had gone out from the storm coming and she shook her head.
"Ms. Linda is with her tonight. She will be fine." Y/n helped him to his feet and led him into the living room to sit on the couch. Once she sat him down, she ran to the kitchen, returned with water and an armful of candles. Jack sipped the water as she lit the candles and turned towards him on the couch.
"Tell me what you need Jack. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Let's figure out how to get through this one together." She rubbed his hand between her own and he looked down at her hands holding his.
"You're making a huge mistake with me...you're...you're too good for me, Y/n." Jack shook his head and Y/n chuckled.
"Hey, only I get to decide that. I'm exactly where I want to be okay?" Y/n kissed his forehead.
"You're going to spend your whole life taking care of me and all my fucking issues. That's not a life." Jack was frustrated. He hated how weak he felt in this moment.
"That's actually my whole life babe. It's what I like to do, take care of people is quite literally my profession." She pointed to the scrubs she was wearing.
"It shouldn't be that way when you come home to someone you love. You should be able to live your life without worrying I'm going to jump off the roof over something stupid." Jack wiped at his face and Y/n listened to him.
"What was so stupid that triggered-" He snorted out at the mention of the word triggered'. He hated that term. It was like saying someone flipped a switch and his bat shit crazy was activated.
"What's making you feel anxious? I imagine you weren't just sitting around working on the house and suddenly couldn't catch your breath...if that's the case, we need medical intervention." She gave a reassuring smile making Jack shake his head.
"Cleo came by...she heard me starting my recordings on the porch. We had a talk and she...she actually accepted my apology, Y/n. She forgave me for everything I put her through...I just...I never thought." Jack buried his face in his hands and Y/n put her arms around him.
"That's so great Jack. I know how much you needed that forgiveness. I'm sure that weight is what threw you into a loop. This is a good reaction, I swear." She kissed the top of his head as she held him.
"She didn't just forgive me...she actually apologized to me like she did something wrong. I should have told her it wasn't her fault." Jack pulled back and let Y/n wipe his face.
"She knows its not her fault Jack. Sometimes people who care about you apologize because it's what you deserve. She knows it wasn't her that caused that pain but she can still feel empathetic that you got hurt." She explained.
Jack was always someone who hated people who apologized for shit they didn't do but Y/n made a decent point. Him and Cleo had a life before all of this. They cared about one another. If the roles were reversed, he would feel the same way that he wasn't able to heal those wounds or protect her from the past.
"Taking care of people is how I express my love. Feeling sorry that someone hurt people you care about is love. I know that you've got a skewed history with being loved but you also have a handful of really amazing loves. You have a best friend who would literally kill for you. Cleo clearly wanted a family with you. I love every minute we get to spend together because it makes me happy. You make me happy." Jack looked at her and gave a weak smile.
"Life isn't easy, neither is love but you find people that make getting through it worth it. I promise you, if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be." She stroked his cheek and he leaned his forehead against hers. She hadn't said the words exactly but she had expressed to him in that moment that she might actually love him.
"Thank you for coming." Jack said in a whisper. She gave him a quick kiss before pulling his body towards her and laying back on the couch, cradling him against herself. She rocked slightly and hummed into his hair, almost motherly in her motions but Jack kept his ear to her chest, listening to her heartbeat. He felt himself relax against her as she hummed.
He felt safe. He felt protected. He felt loved.
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roxygen22 · 1 day
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>>combining two similar asks, though tweaked to be gender neutral<<
Hold Me
You woke in the middle of the night to the sound of the shower running. You reached around beside you and found an empty space where Timothée would normally lay. Odd, you thought. You rolled over and tried to go back to sleep until you heard faint whimpering above the rushing water.
Concerned, you got up and quietly padded to the bathroom door. As you got closer, you could more clearly hear more sniffles. You lightly knocked, but Timothée did not answer. Too worried to prioritize his privacy, you pushed through the door and opened the shower curtain. At first, it looked as if nobody was there, until you looked down and saw your boyfriend sitting on the floor. He trembled as the water ran over him.
You immediately knelt to the bathmat and ran your fingers through his wet curls. His eyes were set in an unfocused stare that never showed any recognition of your presence.
"Baby, what's wrong?" you pleaded.
The sound of your voice brought his attention back to you. "Please. Please, hold me," Timothée begged before breaking down into sobs.
No questions asked, you dropped your robe and climbed into the tub. You sat behind him and pulled him close. He turned so his face laid on your bare chest. The water was hot, yet he was still shivering.
"Shhh, shhhh," you cooed as you rocked him slightly. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"
"I f-froze in rehearsal today. I couldn't rem-member m-my lines. I haven't been able to p-practice because I have to be everywhere all at once. Dinners, premiers, m-meetings, costuming, travel. I- I can't keep up. I can't do this. I just can't."
"You've been going at an inhuman pace. It was just a matter of time before it all caught up to you, my love." You kissed the top of his head. "You need a break."
"But, I have the premier in Montreal..."
"No buts. If you do not take a break voluntarily, then either your mind or body are going to force you to stop longer than you want," you said sternly, but gently, as you ran your fingers along his arm. "Now, let's get you toweled off so you don't also get sick on top of all of this."
You turned off the water and grabbed the towel. You gently squeezed the excess water from his curls, patting him dry as best you could from his seat on the shower floor.
"Can you stand, love?" you asked.
Timothée nodded and put his weight on his arms on the ledge of the tub. He stood shakily and took your hand to support his step out onto the bathmat. You wrapped the towel around his waist and guided him back to the bedroom. As you passed in front of the vanity lights, you saw just how dark and deep the circles were under his eyes.
You lifted the blankets and sheets so he could slide into bed. He whined for you to join him, but you first wanted to set up the diffuser with lavender oil and a white noise machine to help him sleep. As soon as you laid down, his gangly limbs snaked around you. You positioned yourself so that he could lay his head on you again. You placed a lingering kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Timothée."
He sighed and nuzzled into your neck. "I love you, too." Soon, his breathing evened out and slowed in sleep. The two of you became untangled during the night so that you were facing each other come morning. You woke up first and stared at his relaxed features. He came to a few minutes later.
"Please stay home today, my love. If you want, I'll even call your assistant to clear your day. You need to rest."
He smiled. "As long as you stay home today, too."
<><><><><>
Masterlist
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spenglersweetheart · 2 days
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heyyy! i know it’s kind of cliche and a little boring but could you do something where the reader gets hurt (like falls and scrapes up her knees) and egon cleans her up but the whole time there’s a lot of yknow… tension in the room, and they get really close and they kiss and get freaky.
also i love your writing you’re really talented 💋
i can try and make it work !! also thank you sm 🥹 i'm so glad you like my writing !! <33
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Wounds and Tension
Egon Spengler x Reader
WARNINGS : indications of nsfw stuff (but not full smut)
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YOU PRETTY MUCH CRIED OUT WHEN EGON POURED THE hydrogen peroxide onto your wound. It was a long gash on the arm, and you had got it while you were on a call with the boys. Ghost managed to get you good before Egon caught it. It was looked like your forearm was severely cut open, but it was nothing too major. You didn't need stitches, which to you, was absolutely great.
But you couldn't help but to cry out, tears falling down your face as Egon tried to help you with the wound. You couldn't help it. It hurt that much. You were sitting on one of the couches at the Firehouse while Egon was helping you. You let out another yelp when you feel the burning again.
"I know, I know," Egon said softly, "But I gotta do this."
"I know," you say back, "But it just hurts. It hurts so much."
You've gotten scrapes, cuts, and bruises before, but they didn't hurt as bad as this one. This one was a different breed. You knew it wouldn't heal for a while. So you were prepared to be uncomfortable once Egon would put the bandage on.
You watch him. He's so close to you. The thought of it almost makes you flustered. Maybe it was the tears thinking for you, but he just looks so good just tending to your wound. You obviously didn't know why you were thinking this way at the moment. But, it wasn't like you didn't think of him and ways you shouldn't have.
Egon looked at you every now and again to make sure that you're okay. You had stopped crying, and you hadn't really said anything since you told him that the wound hurt.
Both of you could feel the tension in the room. You knew Egon could feel it, because he awkwardly shifted from time to time. But you brushed it off as him being uncomfortable because he was knelt down beside you.
He finished cleaning your wound up, finally wrapping the bandage a couple times on your forearm where the scar was.
"There ..." He says quietly, "Does that feel okay?"
You give a small nod. "A little uncomfortable, but it's nothing I can't handle," you answer with a chuckle, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied.
There was a silence between you two. You said nothing to each other. You thought about just putting your lips on his. Just once. But, by the time you had even thought to do such a thing, he kissed you.
But you didn't even question it. You kissed back. You felt your heart flutter in your chest as you kissed him.
You were hesitant, but you put his arms around his neck. And that was like a signal for Egon, because you felt his hands on your waist, slightly pulling you closer to him.
It was a sweet kiss that eventually turned into a makeout session. You feel both his hands start to wander. "Is that okay?"
You give him a nod. "Mhm," you hum in approval.
He gives you another kiss. Eventually you feel one of his hands between your legs. You didn't mind, though. Between that, and the neck kisses, a breath moan escapes from your lips.
"Should we take this elsewhere?" Egon asked
"We should," you answer breathlessly.
He immediately pulls you up. Your own hand gripped onto his as you go into a private place within the Firehouse.
Let's just say the rest of the boys wouldn't let you live it down when they found a mark on the side of your neck.
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hereforthe911buds · 2 days
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so let's say at the wedding, Buck decides to come out to his parents before Tommy arrives. But before Tommy can get there, an emergency occurs that he can't leave. So he's later and later and later, until it's more halfway through the reception and Buck already feels like shit due to the hangover.
he sits at a table with his parents, Eddie within ear shot two tables behind them with Marisol. she goes to the bathroom, but Buck's parents are becoming more and more dismissive, to the point the comments are borderline homophobic/biphobic. Eddie can see Buck's stress level building before his eyes.
The one of his parents says "at least you're little thing doesn't have to take away from your sister's wedding." the hurt all over Buck's face, his parents disparaging what is him coming out. Eddie stands up and immediately walks towards Buck.
"Hey," Eddie reaches his hand out, "do you wanna dance?"
"w-what?" Buck studders, but Eddie doesn't wait for a response. He grabs Buck's hand and pulls him to his feet. His parents are shocked, but Eddie is guiding Buck to the dance floor. Honestly Buck feels a little relief that he doesn't have to sit with his parents any longer.
"I'm leading," Eddie orders as he places his hands on Buck's body.
"what are you doing?" Buck questions, but there is a giddyness in his voice.
"dancing with my friend," Eddie answers nonchalantly.
"you don't have to do this," Buck comments, though he doesn't know why he's so happy Eddie did.
"any excuse to give some parents the middle finger," Eddie shrugs off. Buck looks over Eddie's shoulder to his parents glaring, as if he is taking away from his sister's day. but no one else seems to care besides them. He looks back at Eddie.
"well thank you," Buck sighs, "What a mess of a day. I'm almost relieved Tommy didn't make it, not see me looking like I slept in a bathtub last night."
"what are you talking about? you really rallied. he'd find you handsome as hell," Eddie gleams, then suddenly feeling this tightness in his chest, as if he just realized he's dancing with a guy in front of everyone. and not just any guy. Buck, his best friend who he has a connection with like he hasn't with anyone before.
and now he's publicly dancing with him, and he didn't even think about it. Buck looked like he needed help, and also deserved at least one dance with how good he looked tonight.
oh god.
"and you look-" buck starts, but then stops himself because 1) he may have been about to call his best friend beautiful 2) Marisol is standing by her and eddie's table staring them down.
"uh your girlfriend does not look happy," Buck comments, causing Eddie's head to turn. the second they make eye contact, she hightails out of the reception hall.
"wait!" Eddie yelps as he chases after her. he feels bad leaving Buck there, but his girlfriend is obviously mad. But it's not like he was dancing with a girl, he was just offering some support by slow dancing with his guy best friend.
it is sounding gayer and gayer the more Eddie thinks about it. he's not far behind her but as she stomps through the entrance way, Eddie sees Tommy heading in the opposite direction.
"Hey Eddie!" Tommy starts, but then see Marisol storm past him with Eddie trailing behind, "uh, bye Eddie." wanting to avoid whatever confrontation is happening, he continues into the hall.
as Eddie steps out the building, he looks over his shoulder to see Buck embracing Tommy, looking so elated that he finally appeared.
and Eddie doesn't know why but he feels like he got punched in the gut.
"Marisol!" he calls out.
"I want to go home," she commands.
"yes, let's go home and talk-"
"no, I want to go to my home," she cuts him off, "my car is at yours. either drive me there or I'm taking an Uber to get it."
"it was just Buck," Eddie tries to distract.
"no, it was only Buck," Marisol points out, "we barely even danced, and then you-"
"Eddie, you're in love with your best friend," Marisol states firmly, "I don't care how he feels for you, but I don't want a boyfriend who obviously likes someone else more than me."
"So are you taking me home or not?"
and there goes the longest car ride of Eddie Diaz's life.
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fuctacles · 2 days
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Eddie Munson Collectible
For @subeddieweek Day 4 | T | 1115 | transfem Steve, playing dress up, fluff, established relationship, Eddie in a dress :3 and I've included a lil doodle
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"What are you doing?"
Eddie jumps a foot in the air at the sudden intrusion, grasping at his chest. 
"Fuck!" he yelps, eyes bulging at his girlfriend, who suddenly appeared at the doorframe, leaning casually against it and observing his antics. 
It's not like she was being stealthy, and his music wasn't turned up that loud either. He was just too preoccupied with whatever he was doing to notice her coming back home.
And that thing seemed to be trying on Stephanie's dresses. 
"You scared the shit out of me. Do you want me to die?" he wheezes. But she doesn't care about his heart right now. What she cares about are his hairy shins sticking out from her yellow summer dress. 
"Were you playing dress up without me?" she asks, raising her eyebrow. 
Eddie gulps, grabbing the flowy fabric absentmindedly. 
"Uh, yeah? I was kinda curious how it feels."
Stevie is silent for too long, but when he looks up, all he sees is her glowing smile. 
"Well, why didn't you say so?" she asks cheerfully.
She steps into their bedroom and opens their wardrobe wider. She hums and ahhs until she finds the thing she's looking for, pulling it from between the flowing fabric. 
"I got this one because it reminded me of you. It's not really my style, you know."
It wasn't and he thought as well when he first saw it but you don't question your girlfriend's wardrobe choices, especially when it took her so long to get comfortable in dresses. Stephanie preferred flowy, girly clothes with puffs, lace, and gathered fabric. This was a black, off-shoulder bodycon with flowy, Stevie Nicks-type sleeves.
"Well?"
Eddie looks in the mirror, where he's drowning in the sheer volume of Stevie's puffy sleeves, and the sunny yellow fabric clashes with his pale skin. He nods.
"Okay, let's do it."
Stevie's grin is so wide he's afraid for the well-being of her cheeks. (He'd kiss them better if needed, of course.) She hovers over him, impatiently helping him unzip the dress he has on so he can change. 
"You weren't so excited the first time we had sex," he murmurs under his breath, muffled by the fabric he's pulling over his head. She hears it though, and slaps his arm, almost making him lose his balance due to his immobilized state. 
"I've had sex before, but never saw the man I love wear something so pretty for me."
Eddie blushes instantly, reaching for the dress held up for him. They've said the L-word before but it overwhelmed him a little bit every time. He felt like he'd never be over the fact he was dating such a beautiful girl. So bitchy, sporty, and yet interested in his hobbies. 
He was the happiest man alive, so what was letting her play with him like he was a doll? She didn't have it in her childhood so Eddie would be happy to provide now.
The fabric has a lot of give, so he doesn't feel trapped in it despite what his reflection suggests. More like snugly wrapped. It's short, pulling up above his knees, and the line of his collarbones looks extra bony when displayed like that. His shoulders aren't very wide, but the contrast of his pale skin to the skin-tight blackness makes them pop out more. And the sleeves...
He can't contain his glee and starts flapping them before Stevie has the chance to fully zip him up. They are long and flowy and fun.
"It's like my ren faire shirt," he says, spreading his arms to see the full extent of the fabric. "Heh, I feel like a bat." He grins up at his girlfriend and finds her eyes sparkling with joy too.
"You look like a princess," she offers instead. He seems appalled at the comparison.
"But you're the princess," he points out with a pout. His arms never stop moving the fabric. 
"Nuh-uh." Stevie shakes her head. "I'm a queen."
Eddie huffs, putting his hands on his hips dramatically. 
"You know these are two different titles. It's not hierarchised."
Stevie rolls her eyes. 
"What's the rule, baby?" she asks, eyebrows raised. Eddie sighs.
"No nerd talk in the bedroom unless we're role-playing," he recites.
"Correct. Now be a good doll and spin," she instructs, making a circling motion with her finger. Eddie does so, the sleeves swooshing around him. "You look so hot," she says with a groan. 
Eddie stops to eye himself in the mirror. He should probably take off the socks he was still wearing, they weren't a fitting addition to a dress. 
"I should lose the socks," he says out loud, looking for confirmation. 
"Sit down," Stevie instructs immediately. He takes a couple of steps back to sit on the edge of the bed and she kneels in front of him to pull off his socks for him. She kisses his bony knees while she's there. "You're so pretty," she says, looking up at him. "And all mine to play with."
Eddie's heart thuds harder at the double meaning. He pushes her face away, groaning.
"Stooop!" 
She giggles, falling back to lean on her hands. Her loving gaze is still on him.
"Can I? Please."
Eddie huffs.
"Of course you can." What a silly question.
He'd never deny her anything. So he lets her sit behind him and brush his hair back, style it up to uncover his neck, and frame his face. Lets her swap his hoop earrings for a pair of dangling roses and put lipgloss on his lips. All the time he's facing the mirror, watching himself being pampered with care and love.
Once she's done, Stevie wraps her arms around him and leans over his shoulder to face the mirror as well.
"My pretty metal doll. Collector's edition."
Eddie snorts. 
"Don't laugh. This shit is priceless," she scolds.
"I should have never told you about collectible figurines," he sighs.
"Too late. Now I'm hooked."
She put her fingers under his chin to guide him into a kiss. It's a soft caress at first, but soon he gives in, leaning into her warm chest to get consumed. He sucks on her tongue like it's the only thing keeping him alive and sighs into her mouth when her hands wander, giving extra attention to his exposed collarbones and thighs. She leaves a trail of goosebumps on the insides of his thighs and he knows the tight dress will hide nothing.
Stevie squeezes his sides before parting, giving his lips one last lick, and finds him in a daze, eyes blown and under her spell. The prettiest doll to play with.
"How do you feel about wearing heels?"
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savage-rhi · 4 months
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✨️Magenta✨️
#I've been really sad lately#its logical I've had a lot happen and a lot going on#and I've been mostly bedridden the past week cause of fibro flares#my brain can see the logic of why my body feels burnt out and why i feel anxious#but i also have this profound sense of loneliness that's been weighing on my chest#I feel the need to isolate and get away from people because it feels like it doesn't matter how much i try to blend in someone#will catch onto me being an “alien” or not quite fitting their mold or having a difference of opinion and i get bullied or ostracized#out of participating with folks or doing activities#and i get so overwhelmed by people and their literal energy/vibes that it feels as though I'm caught in a sneaker wave and being pulled#from shore and this is compounded on top of that feeling of being surrounded by people like tons of them who may even enjoy your company#but still feel very much isolated and alone the whole time#it could be winter triggering trauma responses in me due to childhood abuse related to the holidays#and then there's me trying to brainstorm how i can make money with my creativity when i have little to no help with anyone#and no one will give me a chance to bounce ideas and get a third persons opinion#its felt like this since i can remember: people value that i listen and reflect all the while show compassion#and then when i really need it myself and attempt to reach out i get the door shut in my face#it feels like the only people that have truly listened to me are therapists lmao and it hurts cause its like i gotta pay someone#just to listen to me go off on this idea i have for a side hustle a creative pursuit something i love#and i can't really share that with anyone irl because I'm supposed to be everyones therapist#and its shitty i dont get paid for it if thats the case lol#i feel like tumblr is the only spot I really have where i can share a lot of myself and make things that make others and myself happy#i don't know what id do without it#magenta is my safe word for venting#thanks for coming to my tedtalk as i write into the void#getting shit off my chest at 4am#i aint gettin no sleep cause of yall yall not gon get no sleep cause of meeee
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aureentuluva70 · 6 months
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dimiclaudeblaigan · 1 year
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Anon with the "GW not bad for Faerghus" ask. I couldn't read your full response bc your other blog is private but yes, there are people who say that the Kingdom is not in a bad position. Mostly those who think Claude's "scheme" will force Edelgard to end the war bc he could ally with the "still strong" Kingdom to crush her if she didn't, and that GW is some kind of "golden ending" for the three nations. Some even argue that Claude freed Faerghus/Dimitri from the Church's chains - or whatever.
I don't know if you saw my post where I mentioned you should be able to read it now, but if you didn't you should still be able to. I think I switched off the setting for that because I didn't realize it would prevent you from seeing the whole ask. :o
That's wild to hear though that people think the Kingdom isn’t in a bad position. They've lost a lot of military power regardless of whether or not they lose influence. Like I mentioned in the previous ask, it's basically up to Claude whether or not they retain their influence (regardless of what Petra wants in GW or what she thinks she knows about Fodlan lol). If they do, they still have no military might. If Sreng invades they're fucked if Claude doesn't treat them like a vassal state of Leicester and help them under the pretext that Faerghus is now part of Leicester.
In other words, they’re at best a vassal state and otherwise left alone, and at worst they’re left to rot.
Technically, Claude could try to get them to help him fight against the Empire, sure, but they won’t have the military might to help him very much, and like I mentioned in the last ask, the chances of it working are slim. Gautier won’t help and I can say that with pretty much full certainty, and if Gautier won’t help then Fraldarius probably won’t either (remember, it’s Felix who makes the final decisions now and not Rodrigue, so if Felix sees Sylvain is still upset about his father and won’t help the Alliance because of what they did, Felix won’t help them either. Felix is extremely emotional about his friends - especially his childhood friends. If you fuck with them then he’s going to fuck with you).
So now, Claude can either decide to try to force them to help, which would invoke another fight between him and Faerghus and cause more deaths, or he’ll just have to accept that he’s not getting help/a lot of help from Faerghus (I detailed it more in the other ask, so hopefully you can access the rest of it now!).
Post GW, Faerghus won’t be helping anyone in a war, I can tell you that. It’d take everything they had to keep Sreng out and to fix any damages from the Alliance’s attack. Even if Claude called on them, they just... couldn’t help.
Unfortunately even in GW they imply that Dimitri is “freed” of the Church, so of course most people take that at face value and don’t look any deeper than what’s told to them. Dimitri isn’t really free or not free of the Church. He was never in a situation where he was being controlled by them. They’re on friendly terms, but that’s really it. Rhea doesn’t tell Dimitri what to do or how to run Faerghus. It’s just that the people there are very devout because of their good relations with the Church and because Rhea helps Faerghus when they need help. It’s give and take for them just like any political situation. Faerghus isn’t in a bad position because they’re around. They’ve only really benefitted from the Church if anything, because Rhea doesn’t personally involve herself with their political decisions.
The whole “we have to free Dimitri from them” thing sounded more to me like Claude needing to find something “good” to hang onto to excuse himself for making those choices. As it was he was grasping at straws to justify their invasion to begin with. He already didn’t have a good pretext for attacking them. Saying “we’re freeing you” is like... his lowkey way of saying he needs to make himself feel better about it, because Dimitri didn’t need his or anyone’s help to begin with. If they were left alone, Faerghus would’ve been fine. Edelgard in GW is struggling on both sides of the war, so if Faerghus hadn’t been attacked by the Alliance, I can guarantee the Empire would’ve just lost.
Really, if Claude teamed up with the Kingdom in the first place and took down the Empire, they would’ve spared themselves more lives and bloodshed in the long run. Claude caused even more battles to happen and got more innocent people killed. I think by the end of the game he did figure out that he made the wrong decisions, but by then it was too late and he couldn’t take back what he did so he needed to find ways to justify all of it to himself.
I just wish they actually came out and said that though instead of running around it in circles while trying to make us believe he actually believes that the Kingdom was just better off without the Church. They weren’t doing badly with the Church involved or not involved. It was the invasion that hurt them. If Claude skipped around Fhirdiad and killed Rhea, regardless of plot or context or anything, just like, imagine he didn’t invade Faerghus and they just passed through and killed Rhea, then Faerghus’ situation might get a little more complicated for inheritance, but I think just with Dimitri’s temperament that they’d be able to stave off any legitimacy issues pretty quick. That is, people liked him in power so the populace would still be in favor of having him as king whether the Church was there or not. Rodrigue was well liked, so he’d be a perfect public figure to calm down any potential anxiety and worry with the loss of the Church. They could’ve actually made it without the Church, but it was mostly the invasion that really hurt the country and dug them into a hole for the future.
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poppiesforthirteen · 1 year
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went back and tagged all the posts from the past few days and you are all so smart and talented i'm so impressed
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crayolacolor · 2 years
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aaa
#vent cw#negative cw#( i'm sorry i try not to post vent stuff too often but i desperately need to get this off my chest )#i got hit with so much stress all at one time today#covid cases are going back up again and i'm gonna cry because i already feel like i lost 2 years of my life to this stupid virus#i just want things to go back to normal#i keep seeing those reminder: the pandemic isn't over yet posts and it feels like a punch in the gut to me#i know who they're for but honestly. do posts like that really help?#i think the people posts like that are directed towards would just see it and scoff#meanwhile people like me are hit with another reminder that everything is still horrible and nothing's getting better#and even if they DO get better it doesn't last#my mom kept us on 2020-level lockdowns throughout this whole thing and was JUST starting to let us do normal stuff again and now this.#i don't want to go back to that#i want to live#i don't want to lose another year of my life#be cautious of course but i can't just shut myself down completely for this long#my mental health can't take it#i also have had a massive relapse of an unrelated worry that i don't want to directly say because i feel like i'll speak it into existence#i don't. really believe that's a thing that can happen but it's an irrational fear with this worry specifically#and it's infuriating because it's not one that i can easily dismiss in a week or two#this one has lasted for months and is likely to keep nagging at me for the foreseeable future#i just want to not be stressed#that's literally it#i don't know what to do
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skrunksthatwunk · 3 months
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not to doomer post. but. american politics is like here's a conservative warmonger who wants to burn you alive personally and here's a different conservative warmonger who definitely wouldn't stop someone from burning you alive BUT who might raise the minimum wage by $0.30/hour for you, but only like eight years from now (so re-elect me please!! >w<). yes one of them has to be president they are the only two options we'll let you have. no neither of them will stop the government from killing you or anyone else, but at least one will say "it's kind of bad to kill people :( someone should really do something about that..." while giving the people-killers $20,000,000,000,000 to keep doing it then saying they can't afford to help you at all, but oh shucks, maybe next cycle, if you vote for me again! and also everyone will pretend as though they are extremely different political entities covering two highly polarized ends of the political spectrum despite nearly identical policy views obscured by their slightly different ways of addressing their target audiences, many of whom are also conservative warmongers. and also if you don't vote or vote third party the other guy will win and you will watch as they burn everyone you love alive in the same way they've burned so many strangers so you kind of feel like you have to vote for the other warmonger because even though they both have blood on their hands you'll take a handshake over an uppercut. even if you can still see the bodies piling up behind them. even if you can only save like five people you know and not the thousands of people who are dying in the other room. because you believe the difference between 30,000 and 30,005 is still worth it even though no one needed to die in the first place and no one seems to agree with you. you have to keep living in this world every day. if anything changes it will take decades and it will never be enough. if this takes a toll on you good fucking luck surviving off the generosity of the warmonger state that claims to serve you. happy voting!!
#like. yeah i'll take the raised minimum wage. i guess. but jesus christ#yes you are doing slightly good things sometimes almost. can you stop killing people though. please. that is a higher priority#like this is my first prezzy election season since i turned voting age right and like. what the fuck am i supposed to do now#what am i supposed to do with this. it took me 5 fucking months to pick a dead cockroach off my floor how am i supposed to fix this.#how am i meant to be a person and go on living while knowing i am doing nothing and cannot do anything and won't do anything#i need to fight i need to get up but i am stuck. im always stuck. i pray yknow. i don't know what else to do#how can people think about buying houses and getting promotions in this world. how are they not feeling likr their chest is caving in every#time they falter in their complex self-distraction. how am i supposed to do anything when all i can think about is helping and my body won't#let me. i cant do anything i cant but i have to but i cant. im supposed to and im a bad person if i dont and i cant live like that.#and if i am too upset about that i am punished for it by the people around me and ignored by those in power if not punished as well.#i love the world. i love people. you motherfuckers are killing everything and im not stopping you and you're getting in the way of me loving#the life i was built to love and i can't understand why you think it's even thinkable to do what you're doing. or what im doing.#i just want to look at clovers and paint and be good to my neighbors but you won't stop fucking murdering people in front of me#and i can't fucking do anything. i cant take care of the people i love i can't carry my own weight i can't take care of myself i can't move#and im supposed to fucking file taxes? to fund mass slaughter? on the off chance it might go to welfare or something. god.#i hate it here i hate it here america is a fucking nightmare it is hell i can't stand it but if i leave im just running and saving myself#whch is selfsh and cruel and so i would never be able to escape the feeling and i would always be in american hell because it' a part of me#but if i stay i cannot do anything because my body is filled with smoke and broken glass and im supposed to fucking get my drivers license#so i can buy groceries or get a job so i can keep myself on life support watching everything get worse and worse around me#and knowing that nothing has ever been good here and ive been lied to forever and im still being lied to#and i am in hell.#and me dying won't fix it and me living won't fix it ans both are too painful to even consider.#i am drowning i am drowning i am drowning i am drowning and my skin is on fire im on fire and i want to have children. but i can't imagine#doing that to someone. oh my god. and to raise them and watch them come to understand what this place ive brought them to is#that ive raised them in a slaughterhouse and to feebly try to show them the clovers and the ducks and the baby shoes and teach them to love#when maybe that love of the world is a distraction. or maybe i use it as one. i think of the blood as an obstacle to love and joy but maybe#i would not love the world so much if i was not so constantly desperately scared and ashamed of living in it#and i am a very lucky person. my life is cushy and i want to rip my skin off because what does that matter when it doesnt let me help people#god help me. but help the rest of them first. but i am helped first anyway and i hate it. i dont. i cant. god.#nyarla dni
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